Showing posts with label runs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label runs. Show all posts

Monday, May 16, 2016

Blood Runs Thin (Original Series)

Marcus Johansen was the leader of the House of Roue, the most powerful human alive, but he cowered in the corner of his panic room, staring at the monitors that quietly screeched static at him. The room shook with each pounding explosion, shaking loose dirt and debris from untold nooks and crannies. Panic threatened to overwhelm him as his breathing was rapid and ragged, his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Another pounding came, a monitor shook loose and crashed to the floor. He shrieked, and clutched at himself tighter and tighter, terrified at the things at his doorstep. 

Silence finally fell, even the gentle hum of gunfire was gone, something he only just noticed. Slowly the dignitary stood, his back still pressed to the wall, his eyes locked on the solid steel door. He prayed they had relented or had perished, prayed whatever was out there causing chaos and destroying his home were gone. He felt hope well up in him, maybe he was safe. The whole house shook again, metal from the door groaned and creaked. Terror took the sounds from him before he could make them.

The door deformed, degree by degree, inch by inch, pieces that were welded shut popped open, rivets sprang out. All he could do was watch in abject horror as his last line of security finally screamed a metallic cry and was wrenched from the frame outwards. The human leader felt his bladder let loose its contents as his eyes made out two figures in the dusty hole in the wall; one massive, one much smaller, but seemingly much more lethal. A voice slithered through the wreckage, dark and violent, "Marcus Johansen, Leader of the House of Roue, your presence is requested." 

The human tried to answer, but his voice was still locked from sheer and utter terror. The giant shadow remained in darkness, but the smaller one stepped through the frame, a vision out of a nightmare. Eyes glowing red, skin beyond pale with ribbons of purple and black veins, fingers longer than any humans, clothes tattered from fire and bullets, and awash in blood, it dripped from long fangs and claws. The crimson liquid made small trails in the dust and debris as the vampire walked forward. "Forgive my rudeness. I'm Michael, that's Raecien. And you will be coming with us."

As Michael got closer to Marcus the human could feel his world go dark, his vision narrowed, and finally his breath sigh out as he fainted. For a long time the world was darkness with flashes of the outside world making it's way through the fog. He caught a glimpse of his home, torn asunder, pure, white walls now stained red with blood and viscera, a man begged for his life only to have his skull crushed, his brains adding to the gore, a car, and finally large glass windows. He slept for a time, the horror of the world gone, for now.

Marcus knew he was upside down, knew he was swaying, but he couldn't figure out why. A soft, gentle, almost musical voice cooed to him, "Marcus. It's time to wake up. Oh, Marcus." Finally the human opened his burning eyes and saw the vampire with the purple eyes, his shoulder length black hair, and chiseled, perfect features. "Oh dear God. I'm going to die, aren't I? You're going to kill me!" There were more words, but they all became a mess of blubbering. Michael smiled at him, almost sweetly, "No, Marcus, no. You'll live a long and happy life, as long as you help us." 

The human sobbed, but tried to ask how, the vampire answered the question, "You're going to tell me where to get as much gold as I can. All the gold to fund an army. And if you do that, you'll live." Marcus' blubbering had slowed enough to speak, "You promise me you won't kill me. I'll tell you how and where to get everything you need." Michaels hand rested on his ribs gently and the swaying stopped, "I promise." The leader of the house of Roue extended his hand, it shook as it waited confirmation from his captor. The vampire's hand was like ice, but they shook on the deal.

The giant wolf that was with him at the house appeared and dropped Marcus down gently as he sobbed his thanks. It took hours for all the information to be conveyed, all the layouts of safe houses, all the caches of personal wealth, every ounce of gold accounted for. After the plan was concocted Raecien was silent as he escorted the human to a small room with no windows, the door locked behind their human guest. Mixed feelings ran through him as he thought about his betrayal. He had bought his way to life with the money and lives of others. He dismissed the entire thing and slept.

It felt like days, but he doubted it had been that long, he was fed a few times, so that was no successful measure of time. Then the door opened and Michael entered, "Well, my dear friend. Everything was successful. We have the gold, we will raise an army soon. And I just wanted to thank you, personally, for all you've done. But our friendship is at an end, and I'm afraid you must be added to the list of casualties." Panic flooded through the human, "But...but you said you wouldn't kill me!" The vampire had stood and was nearly at the door before he turned back, "I did. And I'm not."

Raecien replaced the small, thin, vampire. All words had left Marcus and he could only repeat 'Oh, dear God!' Over and over, as he watched the wolf change into something even more frightening than his already gigantic stature. Before long the giant wolf was just that: A giant wolf. It loomed over him, his steps thudded in the quiet room, drowning out the prayers. It roared a triumphant call. The last thing Marcus heard was his skull being crushed between the massive jaws of the beast as his scream echoed.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Blood Runs Thin (Original Series)

Michael sat still, watching the rain pour out over the night, making everything shine. The moon was particularly beautiful, its shape reflected in the pools of water on the empty street. Crouched like a gargoyle overlooking its domain, the vampire let the smells of the world wash through him, bringing back beautiful memories, and memories that filled him with rage. 

Atop the pointed roof of his warehouse, soaked to the bone, he waited. The place was empty now, as Phil's workshop relocated to a nearby suburb. He wasn't happy about it, but it had to be done. Michael stayed behind, sending his new partner in crime to retrieve his sire, after letting him experience the pleasantries that were doled out by The Community. They'd all be hunted, no doubt, but Michael wanted to make sure that their world burned before he gave his final breath. 

The plan, as long as it would take, would be executed the way he wanted it to be, no other way. As the details of it began to sprint through his mind, a scent caught his nose: fresh human blood. He knew his sire was near. He stretched and stood, waiting for the arrival of his old friend, and his new wolf one, the night still washed with  rain. Lightning flashed across the sky, turning the night to day just for an instant. He didn't need the assistance, but Michael easily spotted his compatriots coming in from the edge of the forest line.

Balthezar was naked as the day he was born, his muscular body and thick curly hair soaked, parts of him swinging back and forth with his gait. Raecien was just as drenched, but seemed nowhere near as jovial as the nude vampire, a grimace firmly affixed to his bearded face. Their pace slowed as they approached the warehouse and the waiting vampire, who smiled and growled their greeting, "Welcome home, friends. Let us plot the end of the world." 

Inside, out of the rain, Michael led his little company to the office, where clothes awaited Balthezar, and a reward for Raecien. Talks and planing were held off until the old vampire was dressed, and the wolf had consumed his leg of beef. Michael watched his sire dress, remembering nights they'd spent together, vivid and gentle. But it wasn't time for that, now. "I can always tell when you stare at me, Chell." Balthezar's voice brought the young vampire out of his thoughts. 

Michael could feel his face heat, "Don't call me Chell, you know I never liked it." Raecien paused his noisy eating and rolled his eyes at the whole exchange, choosing to turn his back to the other species and continue his delicious meal. "So what is this grand plan, Chell? Do we burn down the capital? Assassinate all the officials? Expose a corrupt system? Or simply take them all to war?" the sire asked, pulling on his shirt and freeing his wet hair from the collar. 

His purple eyes faded to the gold of the Fire of the Night, conveying the deep conviction and hatred Michael felt, "No. We start a civil war, watch them kill each other off, and then burn what's left of them. We light a conflagration so immense that only ashes and blackened bones will be left for us to crush underfoot." Balthezar's demeanor darkened with the words, his jovial nature nearly completely defeated. "And the innocent, Chell, what of them?" Michael's eyes still burned as he answered, "There are none." 

The old vampire was afraid to ask, but he didn't need to. "After they came for me, they went for Aviel. She didn't go down easily, so they took their time with her." Images of her body flashed through Michael's mind, her naked form in the throes of both pleasure and unbearable pain. "After Aviel, it was Maris, then Julia, David, Eleanor, Rebecca....Shae." The last name made all the difference. Balthezar hadn't talked to his sister for a few years, since they'd both left the house of Tor, hoping to start over. 

"Did...did she..." Balthezar couldn't finish, but Michael answered, "No. She suffered the worst. I'm sorry." The old vampire put his fists on the metal desk that held his clothes, trying to choke back the fury gathering inside, aching to be loosed on anything, and violently. He didn't hear the desk creak and groan as it bent under his strength. Testing his voice wasn't an option, not for a few more moments. Even Raecien's noisy meal had halted, though his back was still turned.

Michael waited, knowing how much it hurt, feeling the pain emanating from his sire in waves. Balthezar's silence broke. He spoke only two words, "What's first?" The young vampire placed a sympathetic hand on his sire's shoulder, "Markov." Raecien stood slowly and turned to face the vampires, his face contorted with confusion, "The human second in command?" 

Michael's brow lowered into a stern look, "Is there an issue, Master Raecien?" The wolf growled, anger in his voice, "Not an issue, but a request." Both the vampires waited, "I get to eat his heart."

The vampire with the purple eyes couldn't help but smile. He went to his wolf friend and wiped away some blood from the wolf's lips, left over from the meal. 
"Of course you may."