(Any reply, please leave in rp. If there is any comment other than an rp one, please send it to me via message. I welcome critiquing, but would prefer to not mess up the thread, thank you.)
Dr. Yu worked on his test samples, retrieved from some of the walking junk piles found in Sharkhead. He was asked by a mysterious benefactor, possibly someone in the Family, to do some research on the side for them. He had no problem with that, as long as Lord Recluse's lot did not know about it.
He worked out of his private home, high up in his own apartment building. The building was filled with his body guards and gang members that provided protection for a place to stay. In his "penthouse suite", he was surrounded by his most trustworthy, and best equipped. He was safe. So safe, that he had no fear when he left his window open, to allow a breeze in, and the smell of chemicals out.
"How goes the process," a low voice rang out. The accent, only a hint of Cajun French, filled his ears. He knew who it was, as did his body guards, who barely even acknowledged the person crouched in the window.
"Jerrin, how are you?" Dr Yu smiled as he turned and faced the beautiful creature of the night. He was the ultimate test subject to the good doctor.
"I am fine. It has been a few weeks since we last spoke, and I only wished to know if there was any progress," the vampire stepped into the room. The entire feel of the room changed ever so slightly, and the body guards became uneasy. They were not scared, on the Rogue Islands, for one to survive, one must face many demons. It was just something about the presence of the man, centuries old, that stirred ones blood.
"I have made little progress, I fear," Dr Yu turned his full attention now to the vampire, and away from his current work. "You see, I have never studied blood such as yours, if indeed it can be actually considered your blood. DNA is an impossibility, as you are mixed with so many others. I cannot even fathom how you process the blood."
The body guards eyed Jerrin now, the talk and the feel of the room awakening some inner survival instinct, much in the same way any prey acts around a predator. These men were predators as well, and they would not allow the fear to swell in them for long, before they turned it into violence.
"You men are excused," Dr Yu said, motioning the guards to the door.
"Are you sure doc"? Brice asked, his forehead furrowing. He was the leader, and felt it was his honor at stake if anything ever happened to Dr Yu, as well as his paycheck.
"I am sure, Jerrin would not harm me, and would protect me against any harm from others, I am sure." Dr Yu smiled to Brice, then back to Jerrin, "am I not right?"
Jerrin simply nodded, and lowered his head, eyes closed. He allowed his senses to pick up everything around him, flooding him with information. It took centuries for him to learn to do this without over running his mind.
Brice took this as a sign of submission to the doc, and nodded once, before filing the others out.
Once they were all gone, Dr Yu approached Jerrin.
"I am sorry I have no other information for you," he was sincere.
"You really do not fear me, do you?" Jerrin asked, his dark eyes settling on Dr Yu's.
"You have fed before coming, I can tell." Dr Yu said, reaching out and touching Jerrin's arm with the back of his hand.
"Of course, it would not be wise of me not to. Even now, your blood cries out to me, but I am able to push the desire away."
Dr Yu nodded, as if he understood. He continued to examine the vampire for any other signs that he had changed since last they met. He had not.
"Doctor, am I diseased, am I cursed, or has my body just mutated. You surely have some opinion on this."
Dr Yu shrugged, and fixed his eye glasses as he backed away and looked Jerrin up and down.
"I cannot say. I only know you cannot be considered human, not really. Your body has changed too much, though you still have most human qualities. Cursed? I do not believe in such. Diseased? If so, I cannot find the disease to separate it from whatever else you are. Mutated? Possibly, but it is so massive that surely any living being would have died from it. So, while it seems I have no answers, what I have found out NOT to be true is just as much an answer."
Jerrin nodded, and pondered on it, as Dr Yu turned around to look at his research notes.
"I will keep trying to find more out," the gush of wind tells Dr Yu that any further conversation would be spoken to the breeze behind him.
Dr Yu turned about and looked to where the window remained open, with no sign of Jerrin. The only thing left behind is the uneasy feeling that seems to follow the vampire wherever he goes.
"There are none others like me," He told the pastor. His strange eyes following the man around the church.
Pastor Victor Manfree, a thin man, always with a look of thoughtfulness. He wore a suit and tie daily, as if ready to give a sermon, or a funeral, in but a moment. Jerrin could not tell which. In this God forsaken place, Cap au Diable, it would stand to reason more and more that it would be a funeral.
"It is true, none I have met anyway," he looked the creature over. "You cause a feeling of anxiety to come over me Jerrin, something I am not very use to. What is your intent?"
"I mean you no harm, yet, my intent," he paused a moment in thought, time fleeting by. The preacher was use to such actions from the self proclaimed vampire.
"My intent is beyond even me. Why do you come to this broken down cathedral. It was abandoned by priests many years ago when the Rikti killed so many."
"Where else am I to go, Jerrin. I am a pastor with no sheep, and a preacher with a word no one wishes to hear. This place, in many ways, as broken as it is, mirrors my own ministry. Yet I do not feel released by God to go back to the states. Am I a fool Jerrin?"
Jerrin just gazed over the wreckage of the once grand church, the few pews that were left in tact scattered and unused. He knew some made it to the church, in need of something. Food, clothes, maybe just a friendly smile. Victor would always give them what they were in need of.
"Your beliefs are not mine, yet I cannot help but respect that you hold to them."
"Are you an atheist Jerrin," this time a smile forms on the lips of Victor. Jerrin does not return the smile, in fact, it may have been many years since a smile crossed the face of the bloodletter.
"One cannot be as cursed as I am and believe in something greater, yet, one cannot be as cursed as I am and not believe in the one that cursed him," and while Victor knew there had to be more to his thoughts, he did not push the vampire. He knew he was left alive by the creature only because he interested the creature in some strange way. In fact, Jerrin told him when they first actually met, though Jerrin had stalked and watched him many weeks prior, that he was an intended meal. That he may still become one, if he did not leave and abandon the church. Victor would not leave. That was about a year ago, and he was still alive.
"I suppose one can be cursed, the scriptures do speak of it. Yet it also speaks of redemption, and forgiveness."
"I am not ready to forgive," his face was as stone.
"I did not mean for you to forgive, but maybe to be forgiven," the same conversation they had many times over. Victor waited, then felt it, the rush of wind. He needn't look back, Jerrin was gone, as was the uneasy feeling of his presence.
"You can be forgiven my friend," he said to the wind.
Angela counted her tips as she left the Dirty Duck, the cash feeling wonderful in her hands. She had not done this well in ages, but the bar was full of off-duty Rogue Island Police. Apparently they had some sort of gathering at the Arachnos Base, not far from where she worked. They were patted on the back, and received awards for this or that. They partied hard late into the night, and early morning. It was all done with now, past 4 am. Mercy Island, a place of opportunity and safety. Right. Angela kept her .357 in her purse just in case. The R.I.P. were never much to depend on before, unless you paid the protection money, or were a prominent member of the Islands society, none of which Angela was a part of. They were in no shape to help anyone, now that they were mostly all drunk and staggering home, or to whatever brothel they would sleep at that day.
His dark eyes watched her from relative safety. He followed her every move. She was tall for a woman, 5'10 at least, and her dark skin was smooth. She was beautiful, and he was hungry for a "colored girl" tonight.
"Lickity split, lickity lip, your going to be mine tonight lil girl," he said to himself.
She turned, her straightened hair flowing a bit around her. It was long, about to the waist, that was barely covered with her skimpy work clothes. He worried for a moment that she had heard him, but he realized she was only looking around in general, the money she had in her hand now secure in her purse, which she held close to her.
"Don't worry none, my little dark angel, I don't want that money. No my dear, it would not satisfy this hunger one bit."
He was bigger than her, his broad shoulders setting his muscular frame just right. He had no fear either, the supradine flowing strong in his veins. He was the hunter, and she would be his new victim. So far, none really missed the night workers that he took. He would make her a part of his collection. Deep in his own hide away, he kept many.
Angela never did like the shadow of the Arachnos Base she was passing by now, it was too big, and way to luminous. The drones almost appeared alive as they floated on nothing, looking for any move of violence. The soldiers that watched over the base were never friendly, even though she did kind of like that blond haired one that patrolled sometimes. He never so much as smiled, but he was quite a looker.
"Momma would smack my face for these thoughts," she said to herself, even as her eyes scanned the wall of the base. She did not see him, only helmeted faces looking down with no emotion. He may well be one of them, for all she knew.
Angela turned north, and proceeded away from the base. The streets were quiet, and she had quite a walk home. How she ever ended up on this part of the island, she never knew. She use to work at the Tiki Club, but she lost the job when she refused to perform a private "dance" for the owner. She was a bar maid, she was willing to accept that. She was not a prostitute.
The crunching of rock behind her startled her a bit, but she made no move to even look. She only slightly picked up her pace. This was Mercy Island, a place of no mercy. However, she had little to offer in the way of money, even the good earnings she had tonight was not much to those with super powers. She had no enemies, and kept to herself, with only a few friends in her circle. Luckily she was friends with the one they called Mongoose, and she would be in sight of him in about ten minutes. He monitored things for Kalista, a strange and influential woman that worked for Arachnos to pick out worthy possible members.
The rocks crunching were closer now. She looked about, but there were no others out on this cold night. She was alone, well, alone except for whoever was following her. Her hand went to the revolver in her purse, and she left it there. No need to look like she wanted trouble if they really did not mean her harm.
He followed closer now, seeing no one about, he would be making his move soon. He would purposefully make noises, the more scared his victims, the better. He loved to torture, he loved to torment. It was who he was. It was what he did. The black woman picked up speed now, and he knew she knew. Her pace quickened, and would be a run if she went too much faster. He enjoyed this.
It was what he did.
His hand wrapped around a cloth, that had chloroform plenty on it. It would put her out quick, then he would take her to his den. He would have fun, maybe for days, with this strong one. She would not die quickly, not like the last one. The whole blue eyed blond hair experience was boring. She passed out from fear every time she opened her big eyes. Her screams were good, but so short lived. She died in less than a day, probably from fear alone. He sure didn't bleed her enough, unless she was already anemic. What a waste. Lickity split, lickity lip, she just made him more hungry.
Not this jewel he picked up on. He saw her a month ago, even before he took blondy home to mother. He did not feel like it was the right time. But now, oh now, it was time. He felt it, all over his body. The supradine bringing every bit of senses to on high. Oddly enough, it dulled the feelings of most people, but not him. Lickity split, he was the man, and he controlled what the drug did, it did not control what he did.
He was now close enough to hear her breathing, and it was hard for sure. A few paces closer, and he could reach her. No rocks to kick now, he had to be quick, he had to be quiet. It was okay, he was the man, and the man could do anything he wanted.
One more step, and he was close enough.
He almost fell over as the dark woman spun about, aiming what looked like a cannon, at his vantage point, right at him. The hammer was already in motion. The chamber was turning a round into place. He could see it all happening as if in slow motion.
The blast sounded like a cannon shot to Angela, as the weapon bucked in her hand, spitting .357 rounds from her Smith and Wesson at whoever was foolish enough to think her their victim. She was use to firing it, so the recoil did not mess her up. However, whoever this man was, he was able to drop and roll quite fast, saving his head from a new hole in it. He was also up and running, way too quick for a normal man, though she knew there were drugs that could do that. She did not unload the revolver on him, in fact, she only shot three rounds, leaving three, in case he came back. She had more rounds in her purse, but she did not unchamber. Just in case.
"Shoulda aimed at center mass, like I was told," she muttered, backing away a bit, then turning and running in the direction of the Mercy Island lifts. Mongoose would be there to greet her. He was some kind of ugly, but a tough nut that did not tolerate idiots messing with the general population.
Deep down in his den, he knew the sun was well up in the air, probably somewhere around 10 am. The ear that was nicked had dried up and was no longer bleeding. His den was dark, but he could see well anyway. Probably something to do with the supradine.
While he was no longer bleeding, he was full of blood. He enjoyed the blood. He enjoyed the screams of the young teen age girl he snatched as he fled to his underground lair. No one would hear her screams and pleas of help, not in this once snake hole. No one would venture down anyway, even if they did.
She was his, and while she would not last more than another hour, for the next hour, he was the man.
"Lickity split, lickity lip......"
The morning was drawing near, and he could feel his skin tingle. He hated this time of the night, where it would soon be gone, replaced by the burning orb that seemed to scowl down at him. He could not even stand outside in the light for any amount of time without his skin beginning to sizzle, and by all evidence, would soon catch fire. Dr Yu said it was because of some changes in his physical make up. The man was atheist to the bone, and gave no account to the fact that Jerrin fit every sign of being cursed, and being exactly what he was told he was for over a century, a vampire.
Jerrin sat on a billboard sign, some warning about the dreaded aliens that have attacked. There was a time it seemed the world only had to worry about illegal aliens crossing borders, but now it had all gone crazy, and they worried about aliens coming from the sky, from below, and from dimensions that no one seemed to know even existed.
"I hear tell there are other us's as well," Dr Yu had told him. "Quite possibly another you, Jerrin, as odd as that may seem to you."
"If that is so, is he cursed?"
"Cursed you call it, but look at me, I am aging, my hair is falling out, and I have arthritis. You, well, you cannot go in the sun, and you have some strange fear of being a vampire. I have explained all of that away to you, yet you cling to that old world thought process! We are in an age of new things, exciting things! Look around you Jerrin, all the things you did not know when you were actually a young human, up to now, when you are this new beautiful creature. You have not aged, you have not been sick, and you heal at an alarming rate. You could live forever, though the odds of no accident happening to you forever is slim..." Dr Yu let that tail off as he seemed to ponder the odds.
"Yes, doc, centuries. All of my family, gone. All who I loved, gone. All I knew is but a memory, one I remember very well, seeming never to forget. Anything. I do not dream doc, I remember. As if I am there, yet can change none of it," his mind seems to wonder off, though his senses obviously still keen.
Dr Yu glanced over to Jerrin as he poured himself some wine. This was his apartment, his part of the world that was safe. Jerrin was one of the few that could enter it without being harassed by his guards. The gangs that lived below kept people out, his own body guards kept people, and the gangs, out. His work for Arachnos on the side paid him well though, and he was given all of the material he needed to perform his serums. Most of which were meant to enhance the human condition. That condition of growing older, slower, and the final condition that even he feared, dead. Jerrin's blood samples were meant for development, yet, so far, he could not salvage any of it past a few hours out of Jerrin's body. He was beginning to believe the man was cursed indeed, or maybe he was cursed.
"I would kill to have your problem Jerrin, imagine, being able to study constantly, with little desire to ever leave my own lab. You do not grow tired, you do not need rest. You only sleep in the day, and personally, I think that is due to you BELIEVING you are cursed, not some silly curse....."
Dr Yu stopped shortly as Jerrin's cold eyes turned to him. Jerrin seldom showed any emotion, but the doctor was sure he sensed some anger, and the uneasiness in the room grew, as did fear in Dr Yu.
"If I have....offended you...." he began.
"I must go, I will see you again. However, if you cannot find a cure for my condition, then we must come to the conclusion that you are of no use to me. I am not in need of a friend, I am not in need of a companion, and I am not in need of your wisdom," Jerrin looked at Dr Yu in the eyes a moment, Dr Yu suddenly feeling a paralyzing fear come over him, and the vampire was gone.
"You are beautiful," the doctor said to the thin air.
Jerrin sat on the billboard sign, half wondering if the doctor was right about his fear of the sun. Maybe he would not burst into flames, but only felt the burning due to his "condition". Was it worth trying? He had a fear within him that drove him to his own underground hide away. Of course he did not sleep in a coffin. That was not only silly, but very uncomfortable it would seem. He only needed to stay out of the sun light.
He could actually hear the song of the sun, as the earth slowly turned the Rogue Isles into view. He watched painfully as the corona began to edge about, something the human eye could not view. Jerrin's own eyes began to burn, and tears of blood began to pool under his bottom eye lid. He had no water in his system, though he could surely drink if he chose. However, the blood satisfied all of that.
His own fear began to become unbearable, as his skin began to tingle, then burn.
The doctor was wrong!
Jerrin fled to his own home, a forgotten layer of some unknown. He was pleased he was so close to it, yet, as he entered, and was closing the door, he felt the searing pain as his hand began to burn. It quickly burned the flesh deep, quicker than any fire made by man.
"You are cursed," it told him, even if it was only in his own mind.
"I am cursed," he said aloud, holding his now smoking member, knees buckled under him in agony. He remembered burning himself as a human, and it felt nothing as this. This pain burned his flesh, and it seemed, burned right down to his soul.
"I am cursed," he said again, tears of blood dripping on the dirty floor.
Angela's manager, Santonio Diego, sent her an escort to bring her to work at the Dirty Duck, after she had refused to go in for a week almost. He was not mad, but he needed her there. She was the best, and all of the patrons liked her, and, she did not use that to turn tricks. Prostitutes never worked out, they would make a few bucks and not show up to work, or, turn a bad trick and get themselves killed. None of which was any help to Santonio, whose job it was to keep it all in the profit margin. Angela was a beauty as well, and a pleasure to have around. If he could ever figure out a way to get with her, he most certainly would. So far, she refused his advances every step of the way. Unfortunately, this only made Santonio desire her even more.
Angela felt a bit more at ease as the night wore on. The midnight hour came and went, and it was now close to two in the morning. The place was still filled with the party goers, the night clubbers, and the off duty R.I.P. that frequented the place. It wasn't too often that Arachnos soldiers came in, though they did time to time.
"Angela, my darling, you are doing better. You must be feeling better, no?" Santonio asked, in a strange accent that sounded like something between Spanish and Italian.
"I am more at ease, and thanks for sending your two guys to get me. I tell you, that creep scared me the other night," she said, speaking of her attacker.
"Jus' some pervert no doubt. You should find you a man that would take care of you, one who would protect you," he smiled, and she knew he meant himself.
"If you find one like that, let me know, but for now, I am fine on my own," she laughed, patted his head, and headed back to the tables of hooting and holleringhollaring. Santonio just laughed, he may never actually "get her", but he enjoyed the cat and mouse all the same.The air was sucked out of the room, much like some giant taking a deep breath, as the door opened. Heads turned to the door as the stranger walked in. He wore a cowboy hat, brim low, with a long rain coat.
Was it really raining?
He was dripping wet, so apparently it was. He was all in black, but a broad smile peeped out from under the brim.
Probably drunk.
“Some weather we having out there,” he said to Santonio, as he walked up to the bar. Angela was off and running again as the Dirty Duck seemed to come back to life.
“Wow, didn’t know it was raining out there, or that we were suppose to get any,” Santonio chimed in, only halfheartedly. Weather talk always bored him. “Got a thirst?”
“A thirst, a hunger, you bet I got it all,” his laugh was strange, but Antonio was used to strange, this was Mercy Island, and he did run a club just next to the Arachnos base.
“What you wanting,” Santonio asked again, no smile this time.
“Man after my own heart, get to the point, lickity split, lickity lip,” he replied, with a lick of his own lip. “I will take the strongest brew you got, no kidding around me, no sir. I got a mighty thirst, and a mighty hunger, and you look like the man that has the answer.”
There was no way Santonio was going to give this man a shot of Recluse’s Fire, the best mix he had, if someone wanted to get fall down drunk that is. Instead he poured him some rum, and slid the glass to him.
The stranger was watching the crowd, or scanning it, as he lifted the glass from the bar without looking. One gulp, it was down, and his tongue reached out, extending far past what a tongue should, to lick his lips. Lickity lip, is what Santonio thought of as he did just that.
“Good stuff, you little weasel,” he said, but Santonio was not sure he understood him right. Surely this man did not call him a weasel.
“Sir, what did you say,” Santonio was not a man to just let anyone talk down to him.
“I said good stuff, sir, good stuff,” and the man smiled sincerely, as if he did not say weasel. Santonio thought he may have misheard, and nodded, as he went down the bar to help others out.
Angela was, at the moment, sidling away from a particularly handsy patron. The police of this area were not the top of the line, but they tipped well enough, making this just a hazard of her work. More incredibly, she held a tray of drinks that did not so much as spill a drop, leaving the table cheering for her agility, including the would be groper.
“Here you go guys,” she said, as she dispensed the drinks to another table. Many times she set them up two drinks at a time, warning that she may not get back soon, leaving them to have to make the long walk to the bar. In their condition, at times, those 10 steps could seem miles.
“Hey Angela, who is that oddball guy that just walked in, he is up at the bar,” Crazy Eight asked. He was called Crazy Eight because of his badge number, 44, and the fact that he once jumped down a snake hole for one silver dollar he refused to lose.
“Don’t know him, and don’t think I want to be knowing him. Already looks like he is annoying the boss, so I am betting getting to know him is pretty useless at this point anyway,” she smiled, patted ole Eight on the shoulder, and headed off, another handful of tips to stuff in her apron.
As she approached the bar, the only open space was near the stranger. It seemed no one felt very comfortable up close to him. She had to admit, she did not either, but all the same, she did what she had to do.
“Three brews of no label, one sour, the others drug free,” she called, in her own way of ordering one beer with a lemon and the others with nothing added.
“Got a way with words,” the man next her said, raising his brim, and smiling a strange smile at her. Too many teeth showed, it seemed. However, there were lots of strange dudes entering the Duck. It was a city of villains, was it not?
“Well, it keeps it all interesting,” she said, with only a side glance at him.
“You keep things interesting for sure,” he smiled, and nodded. “****.”
“Excuse me,” she said, not sure she heard the last words correctly.
“Excuse ME, hiccups and all, I said you keep things interesting around here, what with the way you handle everything. You are good for business, no doubt.”
Angela nodded,
“Do something about them hiccups, that can be dangerous you know.”
“I sure do, I think I need to hold my breath or something. Maybe the entire place can help me hold my breath,” he smiled, and seemed to stop breathing.
Angela rolled her eyes, and turned back to the bar.
“Come on Santonio, we got business to take care of, those folks don”t like getting thirsty,” she called out.
Santonia was in middle of pouring a draft, seemed held in place, as the beer poured over.
“You wasting money there boss,” Angela chuckled, thinking Santonio playing some kind of joke.
Santonio never moved, even as the catch began to overflow, not being able to drain as fast as the beer poured into it.
In fact, the entire place seemed to go quiet.
Angela looked about, and it seemed everyone just stopped in place.
Then she looked over at the stranger, who was obviously holding his breath, his cheeks puffed out far wider than they should be, his face turning red, almost purple.
“Are you nuts,” she asked, but the man just pointed to his lips as he held his breath, signifying he could not talk yet.
“What are you doing,” she looked about at everyone, who also was beginning to turn red in the face, their own breaths held.
Then, just as it seemed the stranger would pass out, reeling on his feet, he let out the breath in him, and sucked in a long deep oxygen filled breath.
The entire Duck seemed to do the same, and life started back up again as if nothing happened, except for Santonio cussing about spilling all over, and wondering why his drain backed up.
“What did you do?” Angela asked, staring at the stranger.
“Held my breath ma’m, hiccups and all you know. Kind of got light headed there for a bit, but it seems to have worked.”
Angela back away from him as Santonio brought her the new order.
“Here you go Angela, I got a mess to clean. Tell Brunas get over here and help me out, he is in the back with Louisa, and I may add, been there way too long”.
As he said that Brunas walked out, straightening his shirt. Santonio waved him over, forgetting about Angela and the stranger.
Angela just looked about, hardly believing that no one suspected something strange just happened. Apparently not even the stranger, who was fiddling with his collar, trying to straighten it out, looking every bit uncomfortable.
She now wondered if she even saw what she thought she saw.
Angela moved away and headed back to the tables to serve more drinks. The only reminder that something odd happened was Santonio fussing and cussing about the catch backing up, and some of the customers complaining that they spilled on themselves.
Soon she made her way back up to the bar, where the odd man was now eating peanuts, and tossing them into Santonio’s mouth as well. Santonio was smiling and laughing as if he was drugged, or some crazy.
“What are you two doing?” She asked, but was looking more to Santonio for answers than the stranger.
“Wait, wait, don’t make him talk, he may choke if you do!” the stranger called out quickly.
“Sit boy!” he hollared, and oddly enough, Santonio did just that, just like a dog. The stranger tossed him a peanut, and he caught it in his mouth, giggling and smiling as he did so.
“Good Boy!” the stranger said, “you are actually good for something you idiot. Bout the dumbest hombry ever to walk these islands, if I do say so myself, and I do.” The stranger never stopped smiling.
“Now, go kill Brunas for me would you, more peanuts where these came from. Take him in back, and do it good.”
Santonio clapped, and nodded, his own smile too big for his head.
“When your done, ace yourself, right across the neck bud, lickity split, lickity lip,” he called, licking his lips again.
Angela watched in horror as Santonio grabbed the knife he used for lemons and limes and called Brunas to the back room. Brunas nodded, looking a little pouty, probably due to being fussed at over taking too much time in the back with Louisa.
“Santonio...”she began to call him, but the stranger grabbed her arm.
“Let him go, lickity split, you and I got something to talk about anyway,” he said, still that strange smile on his face. Angela felt the fear she knew the other morning on her way home, and saw the ear that was scabbed over.
“You,” she said.
“And YOU,” he said, and smiled again.
“Help, HELP...” she called back, waiting on the crowd to come to her rescue. They all liked her, and most would be willing to put a bullet in this stranger for her.
Unfortunately, as she looked back, being held by the stranger, the crowd only smiled and waved at them, as if she was simply introducing him.
“Got a good man there, Angela,” someone yelled out, with a look of complete approval of her new “man”.
“He is a keeper, a handsome devil for sure,” Louisa called out, her hair a little messed up from her time with Brunas.
It was then she heard a loud yell, and a scream. Brunas and Santonio! No one else seemed to even care, as they went back to their chatter.
“See, I am a keeper, a good man, your people says so, so you must believe them,” the stranger offered, his grip on her arm cutting off circulation.
Angela began to push away, but to no avail. Her hits did him no damage, even though she had been known to knock a grown man out with one of her punches.
“Now stop this!” he yelled, pulling down hard on her arm, as she heard the pop of it coming out of place, then the pain of it slipping back into joint.
Angela fell to her knees, the white hot pain starting to ease, tears now filling her eyes, though she was doing her best to try and keep them at bay.
Again, the club went on as if nothing was happening. Louisa was more than happy to take over serving them drinks, flirting with them, and letting them grope her.
“I like this place,” the man said, looking down at her. “I think it needs a little more violence in it, but over all, it is a good place. Lotsa sinners! Lotsa losers! You know, according to what you call the Holy Bible, these folks are all hell bound in a basket, lickity split, lickity lip.”
Angela watched as the man licked his lip, the tongue once again going out further than it should, then licking his lips as if from another mouth altogether.
Angela tried to crawl away, but the man grabbed her by the hair and drug her back to him.
“I tried to get my friend to do some work for me, Angela baby. He did great for a time, let me in this stupid body, took me around, thought he was using me, thought I was something called supradine. He was an idiot though, never much use to me really. You I thank, though. You getting away helped me, in a way.”
What was he talking about?
“Before you, Angela, I was nothing,” he seemed to become very sincere, and very thoughtful. “I was but a grub, a worm, or, better yet, I was a slug. No, no, that is not it. I was a caterpillar! Yes, a wormy, sluggish caterpillar. Now stay with me, I am going somewhere romantic with this,” it was then that Santonio walked out of the back room, covered in blood, and crying.
Was he crying?
Again, the patrons never seemed to notice, in fact, one even clapped him on the back and nodded some kind of encouragement to him.
The stranger just seemed agitated, Santonio messing up his romantic attempts.
“I am so sorry dear, but I will need to handle this,” he said, letting her hair go, as she slumped to the ground. He walked away from her, fussing at Santonio for something, she was having a hard time hearing what over the talk in the club, that seemed to get all the louder.
Santonio was hunched over, his shoulders down as well as his eyes, as if he was some kind of a school boy being chastised by a teacher. He would nod, and his eyes avert, sometimes to Angela. Then the stranger motioned him to follow, and they went back to Angela.
Santonio was still crying, the blood starting to dry on his face and arms.
“Angela, tell Santonio that what I tell him to do, is for his own good. Why, I would never let my best friend in the world down, would I? You have known me much too long, Angela, to think I would ever let my best bud here down,” he said, patting Santonio on the shoulder, and nodding with sincerity.
“You are crazy,” Angela said, looking at the two in horror.
“See, Santonio old buddy old pal old friend of mine, I am crazy about you. You heard her say it, and you know Angela would not let you down.”
Santonio looked at Angela with pleading eyes, as he raised the knife to his own throat.
“No, don’t, that is not what I said!” She hollered.
“See, don’t not listen to me,” the stranger nodded,” go ahead, cut that jugular like a good friend. Take it like a man! Show us you got the fortitude! Lickity split, lickity lip, just like that.”
Santonio did just what he said, staring at Angela, pleading eyes. Lickity split, he was cut, he was bleeding, he was squirting, and he was dead. Angela watched as he fell, gasping for breath, looking about for help.
Life in the club went on as usual.
“Poor guy, he never knew what hit him Angela. He never knew.”
The strangers eyes turned toward the patrons, and eyed Louisa.
“Such a bad girl,” he said, smiling way too wide for his face. “I need some fun, Angela, you are such a bore. Me and Louisa, well, we can rock this town, rock it inside out. Now that poor Brunas is gone, and we WILL miss Brunas, poor soul. Now that he is gone, well, Louisa needs a friend, and by all that is true, I am that friend she needs.”
The stranger looked down to Angela, and grinned.
“Good night Angela, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite. Now I lay you down to sleep, best to be praying that your soul is not mine to keep,” he sneered this time, a most fearsome look, as opposed to the almost comedic look he had been displaying. Then he struck her across the jaw, and Angela blacked out in a swirl of pain.
I guess it started when I was a teen
And my parents will never know their little boy is such a fiend
I guess sometimes it works out, but you never know what it means
Cause a lullabye don't always turn to a dream
Naw, a lullabye don't always turn to a dream -Amos Lee
Angela raised her head, and the pain came back. A headache like none she ever felt, and she knew she had a concussion.
Was it all a nightmare?
Looking about, she knew she did not dream the nightmare, but it was a very real nightmare. Right here, right in view of the Arachnos base, and none came to their aid.
Right in the view of many Rogue Isle Police for that matter!
Angela's eyes cleared, and she saw why no help came. There were bodies everywhere, lying dead. Patron, worker, and police. No one left the Dirty Duck Bar and Grill that night, morning, so no one would have reported. She was willing to bet the door was locked.
Angela sat up, still very shaky, still very much in pain. She noted it was dark, and wondered if she slept the whole day, or a few minutes, or....she just could not tell.
Getting up was impossible, even though she was horrified by the sights she saw. She wanted to run, and not look back, but her body just would not listen.
"You are alive," the voice said, more matter of factly than anything. It brought a new wave of fear to her, and a wave of nausea. What little she had in her stomach came out in a gush, making a mess on the floor, as well as her skirt.
He was still here!
She heard the footsteps, though very light, walking across the bar toward her. She tried to focus, but could only make out a dark figure. She saw the dead bodies so clear, but she could not see him clear.
"Stay away from me...." she said, trying to sound tough, like she was not afraid. All for nothing as her tears began to fall, and her voice quiver, giving away the panic she was now starting to feel.
"I mean you no harm," he said, as he extended a hand, filled with a towel from the bar. "You are alive, and will live. I mean you no harm, I assure you."
Angela took the towel, and knew at that moment, this was not the stranger that came in. This was not the man that brought chaos, that brought hell itself, to this small bar and grill.
She wiped her face first, then found herself balling into the towel. There was no hand of kindness rested on her shoulder. He did not say anything else to quash the fear she felt deep within. He just let her cry.
"Th thank you," she finally managed, though she did not see where he went. Something told her, however, that he had not left.
"Who are you?" She asked, looking about, then finally her eyes settled on someone. She could now make him out a bit better. He was near six feet tall, of good build, but looked nothing like a hero that would have been needed to save this place. To save her.
He walked toward her, and came into better view. He was pale, and had a tinge of dark about his eyes as if he had not slept much. His clothes was outdated, looking like he stepped out of the 1800s, but he had a handsome face. His hair, pulled back in a pony tail, looked shiny and clean. The man was almost spotless in fact, except for a bit of blood by his lips, which he wiped absentmindedly away when he noticed her staring.
"Were you hurt as well?" She asked, attempting to stand again, but becoming nauseated and sitting as fast as she tried to get up, her head once again spinning.
"No one hurt me," he replied. "It should be me asking you questions I suppose, though none of this is really my business."
"This is horror, sir, horror. Have you called the authorities?"
"This entire blasted world is a horror, and no authorities can save us from the curses we have brought on ourselves. No, I have not called anyone, nor will I. You will have to do that," he said. He did not lift his voice, he did not say it in a way of teaching. His words were all put together matter of factly, as if it was what it was, and that a bar full of death was nothing new.
Then again, this was the Rogue Isles, and a bar full of death actually was nothing new.
"Is there anyone else alive," she asked, looking about.
"You are the only life left in here. None survived."
"Well, you are here sir, and I thank you for not running away. Can you help me get up?" She asked, and a strong hand righted her, pulling her to her feet with ease. Too easy.
Her head spun again, and she fell into his chest. He smelled like crushed roses, a sweet smell, a pretty smell. Like the roses she found in her grandmother's bible when she was a kid.
"You will need to leave here Angela," he said, and she wondered if she told him her name.
"Do you think he will come back?" She asked, suddenly remembering the killer may be about, that murderer.
"It will be daylight soon, and I must go. You must get from here, or the authorities will be asking you what happened. You know the police around here. They will not care what you know, but some...." he trailed off, then finished, "you are very pretty, and you do not need to be in their custody."
Angela thought that over, and suddenly understood.
She tried to balance on her own again, but began to fall into darkness. She felt the strong arms catch her, and she felt herself being lifted. Then she felt nothing else.
Pastor Manfree scanned the broken down cathedral, and looked over the homeless that now were scattered throughout the sanctuary. Some were just sitting there, probably still drunk or high from the night before. Others were sprawled out across a pew, sound asleep. There was a time when he would preach to these folks, but soon found out they were not listening. They were locked in their own personal hell of life. It seemed to him they had no desire to get out of it, no desire for a better life, no desire for anything else.
Their wills were simply removed by their drug of choice.
Other times he would get the violent one coming in. They were of little trouble to him, in the state they were usually in. A police officer or two could be coaxed in to get rid of the problem. He had no money to bribe them, as most did, but many of them held some kind of moral belief that whatever went on, one did not harm the cathedral or the pastor. It worked to his advantage in these cases, and he was but a mere nuisance to them.
This morning, even the homeless were few. He could hear the cool wind blowing under the north door, and knew it had been a cold night. Not that the cathedral was that much warmer. There was little heat to be had throughout it, but parts of the heating system did still work. It helped tremendously that the big doors faced south. The windows on that side were all boarded up due to the damage caused by the Rikti.
The sun would be up soon, and may be poking it's first rays over Mercy Island already. Pastor Manfree rarely slept late, and was usually up before the sun. He went about his business of prayer and lighting the candles that went out, and replacing those that were burned out.
"Pastor Manfree, got a minute," one of the homeless called out to him. It rarely happened, one actually speaking, even rarer was that he was asking to speak to the pastor, and not just talking to some illusion of his mind.
"Yes, yes, how can I help you," he said as he made his way to the man. He was covered in old rags of clothes, mismatched all about, with an old worn stocking cap that just had enough material to keep his ears warm. His gloves was missing fingers, and worn thread thin as well.
"I think I saw somethin', sir, somethin' not altogether nice," he said, a moment of clarity in his eyes. "Just thought I would wanna talk it out with you."
"Go ahead, it is good for the soul to let these things out," the pastor said, and saw as a smile crossed the man's lips.
It was then that the doors burst open, and many eyes startled to the new comer. It was just morning, so the rays of light flooded in, and feathered a silhouetted figure. If Pastor Manfree was seeing what he thought he was seeing, the man had smoke, or maybe steam, flowing up from him.
Then he saw who it was.
"Jerrin!" he said, and noted that Jerrin had a young lady in his arms.
"Pastor Manfree, take her, I must go," Jerrin said, his voice filled with pain, as his body was smoking ever more.
"Set her down here," he told the vampire, who placed her on the empty pew.
"Through those doors there, it leads to the basement. Close the door, and lock it. Now go!"
Jerrin raced to the door the pastor pointed to, and yanked it open, almost pulling it from the hinges. He disappeared into the darkness below, where there were no lights, no windows, and nothing to bother Jerrin as he slept.
Pastor Manfree had never seen him in that state, though he knew inside the man really was a vampire. But now, his face had changed, and was barely recognizable. He had appeared to have been dead for some time.
The preacher allowed those thoughts to ebb away, and looked to the young lady on the pew. She was of African American decent, or at least mostly. She was indeed beautiful, even though she was sporting a bruised face. Her clothes told him she worked in some sort of club or tavern. Then he saw the front of the apron, "The Dirty Duck" with "Bar and Grill" written under it.
The homeless man had wandered over to them now, and began to stare at the lady, eying her legs that were showing way too much, with the way Jerrin had placed her down quickly.
Pastor Manfree removed his jacket, feeling the cold air now against his arms, and covered the lady. The homeless man, noting that the show was over, and apparently forgetting what he wished speak to the pastor about, walked away to a corner and sat.
Pastor Manfree closed the big cathedral doors, as the sun began to shine into them, darkening the sanctuary once more, the only sign of morning was the few remaining multicolored stain glass windows beginning to glow their pictures of Jesus, Mary, and the saints of old.
"You have been down here for days, my friend. Are you okay?" The pastor could not see down into the darkness of the room. There were no lights down here, and he chose not to bring a candle or flashlight. It just didn't seem right to ruin the man, the creatures, privacy. If Jerrin wished light, he would have already made sure he had light, Manfree had no doubt about that.
"I am fine. I have chosen to stay down here, it is not that I must. I was healed by my next waking." Time meant nothing to Jerrin. It was all kept by waking up, and sleeping. He did not wake every night, either. In fact, there were times, he went months before he awoke again, and fed. It was not exactly a choice, and only on seldom occasions could he control it.
"I am sorry to have disturbed you then my friend. You are welcome to stay down here for as long as you need, or desire. I only checked..."
"Because you worried over me?" It was a question, and it was an answer.
Pastor Manfree said nothing else. Jerrin could hear his breathing, and knew the pastor just stood there, probably at a loss of words, in fear of offending him. Jerrin knew this man of God was really a friend, but he also knew he could not have a human friend. They all left him, for whatever lies on the other side of death.
He doubted the pastor actually accepted that Jerrin was a monster, either. The death he brought to the lowly. The screams he heard in his own ears, barely audible over the blood lust. The screams always stopped though.
They always stopped cold.
Society turned his curse into romance. Rice with her vampires. Those that sparkle in the sun. A count in need of companionship. None of it was true, not that he knew of. It was a curse, it was a horrible, evil curse. He was an instrument of death, worthy to die, but unable to, unwilling to.
"Why did you bring the woman here, why did you save her," the pastor asked into the dark, and felt that uneasiness come over him, knowing the vampire had the full force of his attention on him.
"I did not save her, necessarily. I only kept her from the police, who would have done far worse to her than kill her. You know that, so please, do not turn me into an instrument of salvation."
He heard the pastor's breathing quicken, and realized he was making the man uncomfortable with his stare, with whatever it was that followed him into a room, and stayed in that room for moments even after he left.
"If I offended you, then I am sorry. She is doing well, and has returned in hopes of thanking you. I have told her you were unavailable, and she worried that maybe someone had harmed you. I assured her it was not that, but she still insists on seeing you. What shall I tell her?"
Jerrin went into one of his long pauses, longer than was comfortable. Had he been a man, Manfree would have known to leave him, but Jerrin was known for this. Time stands still for no man, but for Jerrin, it stood at attention it seemed, caught it's breath, and awaited for him to return it to schedule.
"I will meet with her tomorrow night," he finally said, and for some reason Manfree knew he was done talking.
The pastor closed the door, and heard it lock behind him as he climbed the narrow stair case into the sanctuary.
Angela made it to the sanctuary before dark. She was told not to come until about seven, but at that time the Rogue Isles were basked in darkness, and she sure did not wish to be looking into every shadow, worried that the murderer from the other night had found her.
It was now but six, however, the long shadows of the day passing were signaling that the night time was drawing near.
The double doors creaked as she pushed them open, only far enough to enter. It seemed one did not open without the other. Looking about, there did not seem to be many in the church. A few bums resting on a pew was all, and she quickly averted her eyes from any that would look her way.
"You are early," a pleasant voice sounded, and she recognized Pastor Manfree's voice.
"I did not wish to be out after dark, you understand," she said, a bit shy now, and worrying that she may have offended the man, or perhaps interrupted him from something. Quite a ridiculous thought, considering people found their way here all the time.
Stop it Angela, you are such a worry wart, she told herself.
"I understand completely, and I should have met you instead of expecting you to walk here alone."
Manfree smiled at her, and set her at ease.
"Is the man who saved me here, will I be able to meet him tonight?" She asked, having asked to see him before, and being told he was not available.
"I am unsure if he is actually here, but he seems to be a man of his word, as far as I know him."
Angela nodded, and sat on a pew to the front of the church. Manfree sat on a broken alter not far in front of her.
"How have you been feeling?" The pastor asked, knowing the woman was hit, seeing the bruise still set deep into her dark face. The swelling had went down however.
Angela's hand went to the mark on her face, and settled there a moment.
"This was the least of the problem, I assume I had a concussion, as my head hurt, bad as some kind of migraine I suppose."
"Has it passed?" He asked, apparently concerned.
Angela nodded, and said nothing more. The church grew quiet, as both could not think of much to say.
Manfree finally broke the silence.
"Imagine, me, a pastor of many years, and nothing to speak about. I have not even offered you anything to drink or eat!" Angela smiled at that, and waved him off.
"I am fine, and so are you. I am not usually so quiet myself. I guess it is just strange, everything that has gone on."
"Well, you set here a moment, and I will be right back. I do have some water, bottled of course, and a bit of cheese and crackers in the back," Angela nodded at him, and watched as he went to the back of the sanctuary, and enter some office that was once for a priest. She walked about the crumbling sanctuary. While the outer walls still held, the inner walls were in rough shape. Story had it that some Rikti soldiers had entered the church, where many fled to, and began executing the people. Being unarmed, they had no defense, and no one to come to their aid. The priest fled through some back door, and was never heard of again. Many bodies were found in the sanctuary that day, and the church was abandoned. A cursed place, as many called it.
"Hello, Angela," a voiced sounded from behind.
"So you see, I have been here just hoping to gather a following, for many years now, to no avail," Manfree said, as he took another bite of cracker.
Angela smiled, and was moved by the man's determination. It did not seem many were interested in the grace and mercy he was offering to them.
Jerrin just listened in silence, in fact, he had hardly spoken a word since he scared her. That had to have been an hour ago. She thanked him, until she just felt like she sounded foolish. He looked uncomfortable with her thanking him, and just waved it off, until he looked like he was about to leave out of embarrassment. Then the good pastor stepped in, and he took over the conversation quickly. There something about him that Angela indeed liked. He was, for lack of any other word, good. Not something you see on the islands much. Not even the Longbow agents that wonder over for fame and glory could be considered good, not to Angela anyway.
"I am sure your determination will count for much," Angela said, and the pastor chuckled.
The few bums left in the sanctuary looked quickly over, not use to the sound of laughter, and one or two of them scurried out, almost uncomfortable at it.
Pastor Manfree's smile faded as he watched them leave.
"Such sad souls around here Angela, you are a blessing to this place," he nodded toward her.
Jerrin simply took it all in. His eyes turned to Angela as well, and saw her own smile at the preacher's words. He was not trying to flatter her, Jerrin knew this, he was only stating a simple truth.
"What about you, Pastor Manfree, do you have a family anywhere?" Angela asked, and Jerrin realized he had never even questioned the pastor of such.
"Oh dear, I do," he smiled again, and seemed eager to tell of them. "I have two kids, a boy and a girl, back in the states. They are doing well, I may add. My son is an architect in Washington State, with three kids of his own. My daughter is married to a pastor in Mississippi, Pentecostal at that!" That meant little to the vampire or Angela, but Angela smiled all the same.
"And your wife," Jerrin asked, his dark eyes settling heavy on the pastor.
"Well, she is passed Jerrin, and in a far better place than we are, I dare add."
Angela frowned, and placed a hand on Manfree's shoulder.
"No no, do not feel sad. Oh, I miss her, it is true, but she was saved, and is dancing with angels if I know her, and I do!"
Angela smiled again, his mood never faltering, even when speaking of his family. He went on to tell of how he hears from his kids, and how they tell him how crazy he is for being on the Rogue Isles. His son in law runs a huge church, and sends him anything he needs, though he tries not to burden them.
"What about you Jerrin?" Angela asked, when the pastor had run out of funny tales to tell of his kids and their families.
"I have no family, Angela." He simply said. "I must be going," he finally added.
"I am sorry, if I made you uncomfortable," but Jerrin was shaking his head before Angela could finish.
"Nonsense, you did no such thing. I have enjoyed visiting, with you both," he added, a thin smile pursing his lips ever so much as he nodded to the pastor.
"And I have noticed something, my friend," Pastor Manfree said. "I have not felt that, uncomfortable feeling, that sometimes enters this place."
Jerrin looked interested, but then said nothing as he gathered himself to leave. Angela had no idea what they were talking about, but did not feel it was something to ask them about either.
"I bid you both good night," Jerrin said, and left quickly. Pastor Manfree watched the vampire leave out of the side doors, then turned his attention back to Angela.
"You will stay in my quarters tonight, I will sleep in here," and Angela did not argue, as she did not wish to take the walk back.
Jerrin could hear the two inside talking, his hearing being perfect, and far better than most. Her voice was like a song to his ears, and he bathed it in for a bit more, before he vaulted into the darkness.
Dr. Yu worked on his experiment in his large penthouse suite, above a decaying building filled with gangs and guards. He tolerated each of them, on the rogue isles one must have protection. His mind kept working on the vampire called Jerrin Bloodlette, even as his hands worked on a new experiment to destroy the walking slag piles found in the Pitt.
"Someone 'ere to see ya boss," Enrique called in. He was one of the top body guards, a man always ready to kill at a moments notice, if given just the right reason. Dr. Yu figured his safety was just that right reasoning, so he paid the man well.
"I am busy, as you can see Enrique. Who is it, and what do they want? In that order please."
"Uhm, he says he aint got no name, but that you would want to see him bad. Says he knows some things about you."
Dr. Yu turned his full attention on the body guard, who just stood in the doorway with a strange look on his face. He never remembered the man talking so dumbwitted, in fact, Enrique was quite educated.
As Dr. Yu looked closely, he also realized, Enrique was now quite dead, and accompanied by a tall man in a cowboy hat, with a long rain coat on.
Had it been raining?
Dr Yu cleared that strange thought, and he suddenly began to feel a bit concerned now.
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
The man smiled, as he held Enrique as some kind of wooden dummy, holding the rather large dead man up by the back of his neck. Then he let Enrique slump to the floor.
"Lickity split, lickity lip, what's up doc? I was just passing through, and I wanted to drop in and say hello. You and me, we are good friends and all, you know. Kind of like, fare weather friends! When the weather is good, we are friends. How is the weather doc?"
Dr. Yu just stared now, this man was making no sense to him.
"I do not know you, but I have more guards then just Enrique here, and they will be about to check up...." he stopped cold as the man was shaking his head, his lip starting drag further and further down. It would have been almost comical if it wasn't so real, or if the man did not have such strange large teeth.
Tears began to flood the strangers eyes, and he pulled his lip back up, though it still shuddered.
"I am afraid they have all met with an accident my good friend. They, are..." and he let it fall with a sharp look of pain, then squeaked out, " all dead."
Dr. Yu hardly believed it, but this was the Rogue Isles. There were many things possible. It was only odd that he heard no gun fire. Had he been that into his work?
"What do you want?" The doctor asked, suddenly understanding his fate now lied in the hands of this odd man.
"I want a Ferrari." He replied, and then stared off into space a moment, as if picturing himself in one.
For long moments his face twitched and he went from a smile to a frown to a look of determination, as if scenes of him in his Ferarri were playing through his mind.
"Pardon me?" Dr. Yu finally asked.
"You heard me doc, a Ferrari! However, you do not have one to give me, so stop asking such assanine questions, and making such outrageous offers! You and me pal, we are old friends, and we have lots of work to be done. You may not know it yet, but lickity split, lickity lip, we can have power together, you and I. We can be the next great dynamic duo. Batman and Robin, the Wonder Twins, Charlie's Angels even! Minus a few angels I suppose. Frick and Frack." The stranger wrapped an arm around the shoulders of Doctor Yu and pulled him close.
"I can give you whatever your lil heart desires you know. You like girls? I got 'em. You like men? Well, I suppose if you fancy them I can get 'em. You like little ones? Don't look at me so sickly, I meant lil men, you pervert! Midgets! Not very PC, is it pal! Nope, not me, I will never be politically correct. Your politics have no place in my world, no place at all my boy. Not a political man at all, didn't even vote last time."
Dr. Yu just stared at him, and began to believe the man was completely insane.
The stranger pulled Dr. Yu really close, almost as if he was going to kiss him, but stopped mere inches from his face. He felt the hot breath from the man, too hot it seemed, as if the man was fevered.
"What I got doctor, will change the whole Rogue Isles. We will see a skip in the beat of it's pathetic life. A change of guards, if I have my way, so to speak. All things will be so much better, when chaos takes complete control, and you and me, well, we can have it all! Lord Recluse? I don't think so. United States president? You are thinking too small I say. No my friend, we can have it all."
"What do you want?" Dr. Yu asked again, trying to pull from the man, but finding him far too strong.
The man seemed a bit agitated from that question, and he sighed a long sigh, too long it seemed.
"Asking the wrong questions. That tends to get me in a pickle, a sour mood I mean to say. Really, can't say what will happen when my mood gets that sour. WRONG QUESTION!"
As the stranger screamed that into Dr. Yu's face, he was flooded with the darkest images of his life. The things he did, when no one knew. The things he did to people. His perversions, his sick fantasies. All of it flooded him, and he seemed to like it.
"Oh boy, I done went and done it, didn't I. I opened a fountain in there," the stranger told Dr. Yu, who was hardly paying attention now. His eyes were wide, and a smile was playing on his lips, as he breathed in and out hard.
"You see the things I can give you doc? The flesh desires, and I got the goods. Your question should now be, 'what can you do for me'? What do YOU need, doc? It is all about you now, doc. I got the goods. Lickity split, lickity lip."
I never really kept a journal before, but the church is a very quiet place when Pastor Manfree is sound asleep, and the pews are empty of the homeless. It is a warm quiet night, so I suppose many did not need the safety of the cathedral. I am well pleased that Manfree allowed me to stay here. He was quite upset that all he had to offer me was a simple cot, but it is a blessing. I cannot go home. If I go home, the Rogue Island Police will be there, or Vinny, or even that stranger that attacked us at the Dirty Duck. I feel quite at peace in this place though.
Jerrin has come to visit us a few times in the couple of weeks that I have been here. He is quite a mystery to me. Manfree does not get into detail of who he is, and only said that it would be up to Jerrin to tell me, if and when he is ready. I respect that, but it still deepens the mystery. Our talks usually go deep into the night, though he talks much less than I and the good pastor. Nothing that reveals what he does. I wonder if he is an agent of Arachnos one moment, then wonder if he is an undercover agent of some other country. His accent I cannot place, mostly because it is so faint, as if years have removed him from where he was born.
Pastor Manfree is a true evangelist. He tries very hard to steer all conversations to his God. I cannot fault him on such, and it is pleasant to see someone that believes in something. He speaks to us of redemption, and I am very interested in his beliefs. Jerrin on the other hand usually grows even more quiet, and tends to tolerate it, more than anything else. I was born to a Christian family, or at least they claimed themselves to be just that. It really did not benifit them or me, but to hear Pastor Manfree speak, he is the most blessed and richest man on all of the Isles. One look about the place speaks out against that, but again, I cannot fault the man for his beliefs. He truly wishes to help others, something you do not find here very much.
Jerrin only says that the world is crazy, and if one wishes to believe in something bigger than themselves, then maybe that is best for them. He called it peace of mind, but Pastor Manfree corrected him, and said it was peace of soul. It only brought a tinge of a smile to Jerrin, that seemed to wisp away quickly.
All in all our conversations are great, and run deep into the night. Usually broken up by Manfree yawning and excusing himself to bed. Jerrin leaves, many times with no more than a nod. He must work during the day time, because he seems to only come to us at night. No matter, his presence is welcomed by Pastor Manfree, and myself.
I find I cannot wait to see him again.
((See Below Link, In The Newspapers))
http://boards.cityofheroes.com/showt...=1#post3552636
"I will not be gone long," he had told her, leaving her in charge of the church as he was off doing whatever it is that a pastor on the Rogue Isles do. She had no idea what being "in charge" actually meant or entailed, but he put his trust in her, and she would not let him down.
So far, on a few wanderers had come in, some that frequent the place often, especially on rainy nights, which it certainly was. One of those drenching rains, but at least there was no lightening. Angela hated lightening.
"Miss, you got somethin' to eat," an elderly man in a beat up drench coat called to her. She had seen him before, and he rarely spoke. Some said he was a member of one of the gangs in his youth, now an old man, useless to them and their desire for violence.
"Yes, I will be right back with a sandwhich for you. I hope you like balogna, because it is about all we got right now."
The old man did not answer, or even acknowledge. It is his typical way to just speak out of necessity, then become locked up in that mind that houses so much violence and pain.
Angela left the large sanctuary, and entered the kitchen area. Pastor Manfree was able to get electricity to this part, he had told her, by cutting off the the rest of the cathedral. The kitchen was still in decent shape, and there was little to no risk of an electrical fire. The refrigerator was old and used, but still worked well, even if it did sometimes freeze items. It was far better than the alternative.
Angela entered the sanctuary again, heading to where the old man was laying down. To her surprise, he was gone. In fact, no one else was in the sanctuary.
"Hullo Angela," sounded from behind her, proving her wrong on the place being suddenly empty.
Angela turned around, and her eyes grew wide, seeing the stranger before her.
"Don't run, it would do you no good," the man smiled wide, too wide. "Orrrr, run, and let's make a game out of it."
Angela could not run anyway. Her legs became like jelly, shaking and not listening to her commands to move.
"Seems you and I have unfinished business, Angela," he said, tipping the duster that sat upon his head. His rain coat was soaked.
"I don't know what you want, but I didn't tell no one, I didn't say anything to anyone," Angela stammered, wishing she had more courage. Unfortunately, her mind kept racing to the Dirty Duck and all the things she saw that night.
"Been a few weeks Angela, a few weeks since you told your old friend hi! Well, I would be mad, except I have to take some of the blame, yes I do indeed. Been busy, lickity split, lickity lip. Too busy, even to find you, yes indeed."
"What do you want?" She asked, even now looking to see if anyone else was there.
"Why do so many ask such a vile question? Open ended at that! I want death, Angela, death and mayhem, and a Ferrari! Chaos rules the day, especially when it is driving a sweet car while doing it. I want to hear you scream Angela, for mercy, for death, for me. How does that make you feel? Oh my, don't start that crying stuff now. Always with the tears, you are."
Angela's horror began to become reality as she knew he had found her, and she knew what he wanted. She could not stop the fear, the tears, the shaking.
"We gonna have fun first though, Angela, lots of fun first," and a wicked smile began to cross his face, serving only to make the stranger look more scary. Angela began to tremble even more, rooted to the spot.
Why couldn't she run?
"You want fun? Leave her alone, and you and I can play," a familiar voice said from the shadows. "Let's see who screams first."
"Lickity split, just like that, you have arrived, wow," the stranger said, his low brim now covering his eyes. "Doc, you were right!"
Dr. Yu stepped from the back of the stranger, his eyes turned down, almost apologeticly.
"I must say, I am not disappointed in you, no sir, my friend, not at all. A real true live vampire, right here in our mist!" He looked up, and what should have been the whites of his eyes were very red as if he had not slept in days.
Angela looked back at Jerrin, eyes wide in astonishment.
Did she really believe in vampires? Surely, if he had any powers, it was something else.
Jerrin did not take his eyes off of the stranger, in fact, they bore into him as if searching the man for what he may be as well.
Oh yes, I am a devil Jerrin, a true devil indeed. Not one of those super powered geeks that run about commiting petty crimes, no indeed, lickity split, lickity lip, I am the truest form. Yes indeed, and Dr. Yu and I have become great friends, aint that right doc. Close your mouth doc, you are looking a bit astonished at everything going on, and I cannot abide your looking so astonished.
Dr. Yu did just that, and closed his mouth, looking around and taking in everything.
Jerrin seemed to move with fluid motions as he stepped between Angela and the other two men.
Leave, Angela, he simply said, a command or a request, she was not certain.
Actually, this sanctuary is under my supervision, and by God, it is not Angela that must leave, said a familier voice from the side door. All eyes turned to Pastor Manfree, except for Jerrins, which stayed intensely on the stranger.
The stranger began to smile, his lips peeling back more and more, way too far for any humans head.
The man of God, wow, right here in our presence, right here for us to bathe in his glory, right here....., oh this will be fun, so much fun.
"I order you to leave this premises right now," Pastor Manfree declared, walking toward the stranger.
"Stay back, Manfree, he is no normal person," the vampire said, never taking his eyes off of the stranger.
"You are so right, so right indeedy-o," the stranger said, as he crossed the room toward the pastor, a qick streak even to Jerrin's eyes.
"In the name of ... " pastor Manfree began, but the rushing sound of a great wind filled the cathedral, knocking Angela back, and spraying debris all around.
"Never touch His annointed...." she heard through the wind, as great screeches filled the place. She could barely make out Jerrin standing there, then he too was moving fast.
The wind ceased and Angela could see Pastor Manfree on the floor, not moving. She scanned for Jerrin, and the stranger, fearing she may now be alone with him.
"Let me go," the stranger called out, and he looked much less threatening now, in the clutches of another creature. The new creature looked very dead, his cheeks sunken, his eyes darkened. What should be the whites, was blood red.
"He deserted you," the creature hissed, a smile curling it's lips, and fangs showing. The creature bit the stranger's neck, as the strangers eyes grew very wide, a scream unable to escape his lips. She watched as he went limp, and the creature discarded him as if he were nothing.
Then the eyes settled on Angela. His lips were red with blood. The eyes bore into her, and he began to smile again, his teeth also covered crimson.
"What, where are you...." a voice called out, as Dr. Yu pushed a pew away from on top of him. "I think my leg is broke."
The creature's attention turned to the doctor, and in a flash he had the man in his arms. Dr. Yu did not have time to scream, as his neck was ripped open, and the creature fed more.
Pastor Manfree's eyes cleared. The stranger had actually struck him in the jaw, and he must have passed out. He now saw the creature, and knew who it was that fed on Dr. Yu.
"Jerrin!" He called, seeing the bloodlust had completely taken his friend over.
Jerrin dropped Dr. Yu with a sickening thud, and gazed at the pastor. Dr. Yu was obviously deceased.
"Jerrin, go, leave out of here," Pastor Manfree called to him, but with more gentleness than authority. Jerrin looked to the girl who was obviously in shock.
"No Jerrin, go," pastor Manfree called out again.
Jerrin appeared to contemplate something a moment, his mind a mix of rage, turmoil, and blood lust. Then, in a flash, he was gone.
Pastor Manfree hurried over to Angela, who was just staring at where Jerrin had been.
"Come on girl, we gotta get you out of here," he said, looking about the wreckage. Angela did not answer, but let him draw her out.
6 Months Later
Angela was actually getting her life back together, having left the Rogue Islands behind. A war erupted between some of the crime families and the Rogue Island Police, something she wanted no part of. Pastor Manfree got her a ride to the states with a fishing vessel, and some papers declaring her to be a U.S. citizen.
Rhode Island was not all that bad, and she rather enjoyed the city of Paragon. She did not live all that far from Atlas Park now, and felt quite safe with the heroes that seemed to flock to the city. Even with the Rikti threats, and some strange talk of colliding universes, she felt safer here than on the Islands.
Her new job was not much different than her old, she was waitressing at a small resturant, but with much better owners. A local mom and pop sandwich shop, called Mom and Pop's Sandwhich Shop. The owners were actually two brothers, great bosses, but they did not get along well at all. Still, it was paying her way through classes at the university in Steel Canyon.
ding
"Get this out Angela, you know I wont be here long. Horace will be here soon and I got no desire to see what kind of mood he is in," Rupert called to Angela, setting a fresh BLT and fries up to be taken out.
"You two should get along better. I wish I had a brother or sister around," Angela told Rupert, rolling her eyes at his look of disgust at that idea.
"You know how he is, nothing but trouble, nothing but trouble," he said, his fat cheeks shaking as his head shook.
It was true, Horace worked the evening as the cook, usually because he could not rise bright and early enough to open up. He liked his nights out on the town way too much. However, even Rupert had to agree that when he was there, he did a great job.
Angela just laughed and carried the plate to her customer. Not many were in the resturaunt yet, as it was just 10:30am, but she expected a good crowd, what with the sunshine and lack of hourly alarms of Rikti attacks.
She placed the plate down and offered a smile to the dark haired customer. He was dressed a bit odd, with a baige trench coat on.
The man smiled back, and nodded, as Angela turned to head back to the kitchen.
"Why don't you run and get me some ketchup for these fries, Angela. Lickity split, Angela, lickity split......."
The End
-bumped to make easier to find by asking parties-
The gun powder sounded, and the bullet flew. It struck the bark of the tree behind him, spraying him with the chips.
He did not move. He felt the wood puncture his pale skin. He felt the wounds as they bled ever so softly. He felt it heal up, within moments of the wounds creasing his perfect skin.
"You missed, father in law," he called out.
The man shook as he glared into the darkness. While Jerrin could see him clearly, he knew his father in law could only barely see a shadow standing where his property met the swamp. This was Louisiana, the deep south. Land does not end here with pretty beaches, and breath taking cliffs, as in other parts of the states. Nothing so abrupt as that. It fights the Gulf of Mexico every step of the way, holding its own, but knowing, eventually, it would be mastered.
The woods behind Jerrin met with the swampy marshlands, but it was still big enough to have hidden him for some time now.
"You, why did you come back?" Harris Thibeaux was not a man that was scared of much. He maintained his plantation, and his slaves, out here in the wilderness where he grew up. The plantation was one of the bigger ones in South Louisiana, edging a small town called Abby's Ville.
"I came back to see you, father in law," Jerrin said, as he stepped from the canopy of trees that hid his face.
In the moonlight Harris could see the pale skin, and his strange eyes. The older man gasped, despite his attempt at courage. He raised his other pistol and pointed.
"I tell you now, Jerrin Hebert, you stay back or I will place dis 'ere round lead ball in between your eyes." The man had tried hard to lose his Cajun accent, but it usually seemed to show when he was either very angry, or very scared. He just so happened to be both at this particular time.
"You killed my wife, Harris. I came back to see you," Jerrin said, his veins running hot from the fresh blood he drank only moments ago. The young slave boy even now slept, and could possibly be as Jerrin come morning.
"You're a monsta, Jerrin, you turnt her into a monsta." Harris aimed his between Jerrin's eyes, but saw only a blur.
The one shot was taken from him, and Harris found himself in the clutches of the same monster he thought to hunt. He could hear his workers and slaves calling out from the plantation, but they were too far to help him now. A part of him knew that Jerrin was vampire, but a part of him refused to really believe that, as he walked his property in search of his once son in law. He wished now he would have believed.
"I did not turn her, you fool," the cold breath brushed his ear from behind, as he felt steel corded arms wrap him in place. "I was going to walk away, and leave her here to live a good life."
Straining to see behind him, eyes wide in terror, Harris could see blood drop tears spatter his shirt.
"I was as a son to you, Harris. As a son. Your daughter was loyal to you, in every way. I did not choose what was done to me, but I was going to leave in peace, and you killed her, for nothing."
The truth sank in, as the arms tightened around him. He felt his lungs beginning to collapse, as fanged teeth sank into his neck. A sharp pain, then a tremendous pain, as he was tossed down like a sack of grain.
Jerrin watched the man die, his neck torn open. Harris' clutched at his throat, and tried to stop the bleeding to no avail. He was missing most of the right side of his neck, the jugular exposed and damaged. In moments his father in law lay still, eyes still wide in terror. The sounds of the plantation carried down to him, and he knew they were coming. He could see the torches in his peripheral vision now, a vision that was well beyond theirs. They would find their master soon, in a heap of death. Alone. With no answers to who or what killed him.
It was 1861. The vampire, now called Jerrin Bloodlette, remembers it well, as if it were yesterday. What is time to an immortal? His mind wonders there constantly, even as his heart still burns for Karla Thibeaux, the only woman he ever loved.