V is for Vampire

“Him.”

“That drunk?”

The two men looked over at their target. They were sitting in the darkest corner of the nameless disco, nursing their drinks and watching everyone else enjoy themselves. Times had been hard lately, and money was tight. Hence their current activity, which was the selection of the next source of income.

Dan, Dark Darn as he liked to call himself, fidgeted, wishing he’d had more to drink. He was always nervous before a hit, and the alcohol helped to suppress that. Still, ‘Little Mick’ would strike true. He fingered the blade hidden in the secret pocket of his trousers and nodded at his companion.

Frank returned the gesture. He was a big man, fat more than muscular, but it worked out the same in the end. He had an innate strength that no amount of time in the gym could replicate. His face, scarred through many fights, was ugly, with a misshapen nose and small piggy eyes. Probably the reason he always wore a hat pulled low over his face, as he had now.

To be sure, Dan wasn’t exactly Casanova material, with a scrawny build, slightly shorter than normal, thinning blond hair and a nervous twitch. Hardly the sort of person that you’d picture when thinking of a stone killer, one reason that he’d had so many fall to his hand. They simply weren’t expecting him to be a stark raving lunatic with a hidden blade. Several hidden blades in more desperate times.

“No, he’s not going to have enough on him. He’s had his drink longer than we have.” Dan scanned the disco once more, eyes sliding off the babes that never even so much as glanced at him, over the jocks that they danced with, drunk and stoned and sure of their reward at the end of the night. Dressed in their Friday night best, never touching the harsh realities of life in their fancy offices. God how he hated them.

“Him.”

Frank interrupted his sneering with a nudge that nearly knocked him off the chair.

Looking across, Dan squinted through the gloom for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. The mark was perfect. Obviously worse for drink, but also obviously not short of a bob or two, not in those clothes. Armani or something, he wasn’t sure of the label, but the black suit reeked of wealth, even in the flickering light of the nightclub. He was sitting in the corner, brooding over a table clogged with empty bottles.

As Dan looked on, a drunk blonde, barely dressed in some golden semi-bikini outfit lurched up to the man and whispered in his ear.

She got short shrift. The object of her affections pushed her away without even raising his head, and she stumbled off cursing unheard oaths.

As if the woman had roused him from his lethargy, the man stood up and looked around, a little unsteadily. Dan was impressed despite himself. He was a pretty good judge of the human animal, and there weren’t many like this one. Self confident, he thought, massively self confident. Probably Old money out slumming it.

The target was tall and well built. Dark hair hung low over a brooding, but handsome face. The suit was immaculate. Black with a white shirt and, oh my god! A cloak! He had a fucking cloak! Hanging behind him like some lord would have years ago.

“What a wanker,” Frank said.

“A wanker that’s going to pay our wages,” Dan replied. “Come on, keep him in sight.”

Frank downed his drink quickly and the pair set off after the target, which moved through the crowds like smoke through air.

“Jesus, he’s a slippery bugger,” Dan said as they stopped for a moment, having lost sight of the mark in the mass of humanity.

“Over there, near the exit.” Franks’ larger frame gave him a better view. “Quick, he’s nearly out.”

They shoved their way through the dance floor, eliciting several loud complaints, which they left behind in their wake.

“There!”

Dan followed Frank as they barged through a crowd of drunken college guys and towards the way out, which seemed happen very suddenly.

One moment they were in the smoke filled, dimly lit, warm interior, and the next they were outside, in the cold, harsh world.

He glanced about. Two large bouncers glared at him, and he moved quickly off, chasing his friend who was single mindedly following their target. That was Frank for you. Not big on thinking Frank, but once something caught his attention, he was like a Rottweiler with his teeth in someone’s leg.

Hurrying along, he pursued his friends’ broad back as they moved off down the street. It had been raining, still was very slightly, and the road was all but deserted, the streetlamps glaring harshly down onto cars abandoned by their owners for the night.

“I can’t believe it,” Frank muttered, slowing down so Dan could catch up. “He’s going into an alleyway! Talk about luck! Probably wants a piss or something. Come on, get your blade ready.”

Feeling for Little Mick, Dan nodded and started moving with more stealth.

With a backwards glance and a final nod, Frank slipped around the corner of the alleyway. Dan heard him start his usual speech.

“Now then, this can go easy or it can…urg!”

There was a wet crunching sound, and Dan turned the corner to be met by a shower of blood in the face.

“What the!” He staggered backwards a pace, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He was grabbed by his collar and thrown across the alleyway like a rag doll, hitting the wall with a thump that knocked the breath out of him. Little Mick went flying from his grasp, to land with a metallic clinking sound of the hard floor. Dan slid down after it, coughing and moaning with pain and shock.

Someone stepped on his thigh, hard, giving him more to complain about.

“Pathetic. Total amateurs.” The voice was rich and dark, full of confidence and distain.

“I’m sorry,” Dan choked. “If you let me have my knife back, we’ll give it another go.”

“Ha! A sense of humor. Unusual for your kind.”

“What can I say?” Dan replied, still wiping his eyes. He blinked and looked up to see his target turned attacker standing over him, sneering. He moved his hand nearer his backup blade, keeping the movement slow and casual.

“If you touch that knife, you’ll end up like your friend.” The man gestured towards the other side of the alley. Dan squinted and went pale.

The remains were lying on the floor, slowly cooling in the light drizzle. Blood oozed away, tinting the little rivers of rainwater red as they flowed to the nearby drain. Frank’s head was on the ground, some small distance from the rest of him, staring with shock directly at Dan, whose eyes widened at the sight.

“Jesus H. Christ! What the fuck did you do to him?”

“It was a swift and painless death.”

“You’re a bleeding psycho! He never did anything to you!”

“But he was planning violence. I have a nose for this sort of thing.” The man tapped the side of his nose to emphasize the point.

“He was only going to lighten your wallet some, maybe rough you up a bit. He never did anyone any harm old Frank. Well, any serious harm. Unless they resisted of course. Or he was having a bad day.” Dan shook his head sadly.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be concerned about Frank.”

Dan looked up. “Now, come on. You’ve bested us fair and square. No need to rub it in now… Hey, what you doing? Let me go!”

His assailant had reached down and picked him up by the shoulders, raising him off the ground with no visible effort, drawing the luckless thief up so they were face to face.

“This is your lucky day,” the man said, and Dan couldn’t help but notice something odd around the mouth area as he spoke.

“Have I won the lottery then?” He tried to kick, but was thrust back hard against the wall, which knocked the breath, and fight, out of him.

“Much better than that. You’re going to live forever.” The man opened his mouth wide and lunged forward.

Dan managed one scream before everything went black.

~

“Wakey wakey!”

A shower of liquid woke Dan abruptly. He shook his head and opened his eyes, to see his former attacker standing over him, breeches undone, relieving himself on his face.

“Fuck! You sick bastard…ah! Shit!” Dan rolled aside, spitting out the piss.

“Lesson number one,” said the man, shaking himself off and returning his parts to within his pants. “Don’t shout when someone is pissing on your head.” Chuckling at his own joke, he turned away and moved off.

“Christ. What is it with you and disgusting liquid in my face?” Dan wiped himself off with a blood-soaked sleeve, sat up and looked around.

He was in a windowless room, at least part wine cellar by the looks of the bottles lining the wall opposite. Wherever it was, it was a fairly large place, and furnished well, if a little unusually. His tormentor was now in a kind of kitchen area, busy mixing something in a large bowl on a counter. Nearby was a comfortable looking living room setup, with a long brown sofa and several armchairs, worn, but comfortable looking. They were placed around a low wooden table, which sported a bowl of fruit in the center. Bookshelves lined the walls, crammed full of reading material.

Further away two plain wooden doors led to places unknown.

“What’s going on then?” Dan stood up and patted himself down. To his surprise his knives where all present, including Little Mick, which he’d dropped earlier. “Where am I and who are you?”

“My name,” the man turned around and put the bowl in a microwave. “My name is Vladimir Dmitri Michelle La’Rudac.”

“Ha! Michelle’s a girls name,” Dan smirked.

Vladimir Dmitri Michelle La’Rudac sighed and shook his head, taking two slices of toast that had just popped out of a toaster and transferring them to a plate. “You may call me Dmitri, it’s the name I usually go by.”

“So, you some kind of pervert or something then? Want me to bend over and play bum, is that it?” Dan rubbed at his sleeve and totally failed to get the blood out of it.

“Whilst I do have certain unhealthy… fetishes, your behind isn’t one of them,” Dmitri said, buttering the toast. He gestured at the counter, which was lined with tall stools. “Please, take a seat. How do you like your coffee?”

“Black, one sugar.” Seeing no better option, at least faced with someone who could tear heads off, he walked over and settled himself down, accepting the coffee graciously. He took a sip and his eyebrows rose. “Nice.”

“It’s a very rare blend,” Dmitri said. “Scrambled eggs on toast?” He removed the bowl from the microwave and deposited a yellowish mass onto the toast before sliding it in front of Dan.

“Okay, I give up,” Dan said, picking up a knife and fork that were nearby and tucking in. “You are either the weirdest pervert I’ve ever known, and I’ve known some, trust me, or you’re…” he faded out, not being able to think of an alternative.

“A vampire.” The man smiled and sat down opposite Dan, picking at some scrambled egg remaining in the bowl.

“I… see.” He took a bit of breakfast and chewed. It was really good.

“I can see you have doubts.”

“Oh, no, no of course not,” Dan said, wondering where the exit was. “I never ‘dis a man in his own home. So, over there where you keep the coffin then?” He nodded at one of the doors.

“That’s the cellar,” said Dmitri.

“Oh.”

“The coffins are somewhere else.”

“Of course they are.” Dan swallowed and then sat up. “Well, it’s been lovely having this chat, thanks for the food and all that, but I think I’d better be off.”

“I don’t think you want to do that just yet.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” Dmitri stood up, making Dan flinch. “You see, I decided I want some help, and you happened along at just the right time.”

“How lucky for me.”

“Actually, you are. You see, I’ve infected you with Vampirism. You should be feeling the effects soon.” He tapped the table with his index finger.

Putting the cup back down, Dan took a deep breath. “I see. So, it’s out all night swooping on young girls, is that it? Because it won’t be much of a lifestyle change.”

“Pah, forget all the nonsense you’ve seen on TV. It’s true we drink blood, but it’s not an exclusive diet. I wouldn’t have this kitchen if so, would I? No, there are many advantages to being… us. Super strength, you never catch a cold or get ill with the common diseases, and immortality of course, don’t forget that. You can even go out in daylight eventually, to a limited extent anyway. I’d recommend avoiding sunbathing on a sunny beach though.”

“Sounds super. So it’s all milk and honey then.”

“It could be, it could be. If it wasn’t for those who are trying to kill us.”

“There’s always someone,” said Dan, finishing off his drink.

“They’re a secret government organization, Pan-Global, who are dedicated to either exterminating us, or recruiting us. Those that are ‘turned’ are kept under strict lock and key though. Not fun if you’re immortal. If you don’t agree to serve them, you’re ‘dealt’ with.” He made the quote marks with his fingers.

“Wooden stakes through the heart time is it? Fuck. Bloody government.”

“Another falsehood. We can be killed just like the next man. It doesn’t take any more than a well placed, normal, bullet, though we do heal very quickly.”

“So what do you want with me?”

“In return for my ‘gift’ to you, I need you to find a woman for me.”

“Hey, I’m no dating service!”

“This woman,” Dmitri slid a picture over the counter. Dan picked it up and examined it. It showed a large woman in a black skirt suit. She had dark, short cropped hair and was speaking on a phone.

“Not such a stunner,” he said.

“She’s the head of the local chapter of PG. I want her taken out, but, thanks to some unfortunate blunders in times past, she knows me. I need someone to do my dirty work. Someone new.”

“And I’m the patsy, that’s it is it?” Dan said.

“Got it in one. So what do you say? Do I have the right person for the job, or is it time to remove another head?”

Dan examined his cup, swirling the dregs about for a moment. “Any chance of another coffee?” he asked.