V is for Vampire

“What do you think?” Dmitri asked again. “It’s a simple task really.”

Sighing, Dan stood up. “Fine. But once the deed is done, you leave me the fuck alone. I’ve enough problems without the fashion-retarded harassing me all hours.”

“Believe me, you aren’t my idea of a good time either. I was somebody back when, you know?”

“I really don’t give a shit. Where do I find her?”

“Stone street, off Main.”

“Fine. I’ll not see you soon then.” Dan stood up and looked around for the door.

“That one,” said Dmitri, pointing.

“I thought you said it was the closet?”

“I lied.”

With only a grunt as a response, Dan made his way over to the exit. The handle turned when he twisted it, and the door opened to reveal a narrow flight of stairs going up. He paused a moment and looked back at the so-called vampire’s pad.

Dmitri raised his eyebrows in a questioning fashion.

“Mmm.” Running one hand through his thinning hair, Dan turned around and left.

~

“Beer.”

“Show me the money.”

“Oh come on Vanessa, it’s not like I’m not a local or something!”

The owner of ‘Business’ shook her head and folded her arms across an expansive chest. “I’m not a charity you know.”

“Jesus, everyone’s against me today.” Dan fished around inside his coat, finally producing a crumpled note, his last, which he threw onto the bar.

Vanessa nodded and scooped the money up efficiently.

“You look like shit,” she said, selecting a glass and moving over to the tap.

“Thanks, it’s been a bugger of a night to be sure.” Dan hesitated. “And day I guess.”

He watched as the bartender pulled his drink. Upon exiting Dmitris’ place, which emerged in a fairly run down area of town in a dark alley, he’d discovered he’d lost a day. Not that that mattered. It wasn’t as if he’d a cozy office job to run off to.

“Here you go.” The drink was slammed down in front of him.

“Have I done something to offend you Vanessa?” he asked, picking the glass up and taking a small sip.

“Fuck off,” was all he had in way of reply. The short brunette stalked off to serve another customer with no further explanation.

Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Dan stared forlornly at the drink lined wall behind the counter.

“Here’s to you Frank.” He raised his glass and took a deep draft. Not that he’d liked the bully, but having a very large, violence prone fellow at his side had made life somewhat easier in the circles of thuggery.

“So, what have we here then?” A sudden voice next to his ear jerked him out of his revere and re-enforced the loss of his colleague.

“Hello Snake,” he said without looking round.

A thin man sat down on the bar stool beside him and raised a finger at Vanessa. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, a white shirt and worn black leather jacket.

“I hear your friend suffered a mishap earlier,” he said.

“It’s a mild scrape, I’m expecting him here any minute,” Dan replied as casually as he could.

“I’d like to see that.” Snake smiled as he received a beer, throwing down a hundred as payment. Vanessa took it stonily and stalked off to get his change.

“Yes, well, you know old Frank, heals fast he does.” Dan purposely prolonged the topic as he surreptitiously squinted at the mirror behind the bar, trying to see how many goons Snake had brought with him, and how likely escape was.

“I hope you’re not thinking of running away,” the loan shark said, as if reading his mind.

“You know me Snake…” Dan began. He stopped short as the wiry man grabbed him by his throat and pushed him sidewise, making him slide off his stool and bump into a large gentleman that had suddenly appeared from somewhere.

“I’ll get your money,” Dan choked out.

“You said that last time.” Snake’s teeth were stained brown from years of heavy smoking. “And now you’ve lost your chum too. Not your day is it?”

“Here’s your change.” Vanessa’s voice interrupted their little chat. “And take the violence outside.” Dan would have been more pleased if the order had had a little emotion to it, instead of the flat, uninterested tone.

Scowling, Snake released his hand and re-took his seat, allowing Dan to do the same, rubbing his throat all the while.

“I’ll give you a day, and I’m being kind here to show respect for your lost buddy, and because we were once friends.

“Mmm.” Dan made a non-committal sound and picked up his beer again.

“So, who did it then?”

“What?”

“I said, who did it?” Snake repeated. “Killed Frank I mean. Must have been a fucker to take the big boy out.”

“Don’t know.”

Snake snarled at him, but didn’t press the issue further. The temperature dropped a few more degrees between them, and Dan finished his beer as fast as possible, whilst not wanting to look like he was rushing. Showing weakness could be fatal with these people.

Finally he drained the glass and replaced it on the counter. “Well, I’m off then,” he said to the world in general.

“See you tomorrow,” was all Snake said.

Nodding in way of reply, Dan walked to the exit. Outwardly he was cool, but inside he was shaking. How the fuck was he going to get two grand by tomorrow?

The door slammed shut behind him, and he stalked off into the night.

~

Maybe it was the whole fucked-up thing with Frank and that Dmitri. Maybe it was the two thousand he had to find in one day, or maybe he just wasn’t thinking straight, but the first time he realized what he’d done was when two large figures detached themselves from the wall and sailed smoothly towards him. A dull flash of metal indicated they were armed.

“Fuck!” Dan came to an abrupt halt, suddenly aware he’d been walking blindly, self absorbed in all his problems. Unfortunately, he’d wandered right into gang territory.

“Won’t do that again anyway,” he muttered to himself, feeling for Little Mick with the hand in his pocket, and slowly sliding a throwing blade from its hidden slot in his sleeve.

“You in da wrong place.” One of his new friends spoke.

The two black men were large. Very large, and dressed in the stupid red leather jackets that proclaimed them to be members of the ‘Bloods’.

Dan had always thought it was a really unoriginal name, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to tell them face to face. Not without a large amount of armed men backing him up anyway. The Bloods had a serious lack of humor.

“Listen, I don’t have any cash…” he started, stepping backwards a pace. A noise from behind him made him stop. They had him surrounded.

“Man, who said we be wanting cash? Maybe we just be wanting some fun.” The first man grinned a gold-tooth filled smile and waved a large knife about.

“Yeah, you wanna bend over now?” The second one pulled out his own weapon. This was no dagger, but a dull black pistol.

Dan took a deep breath, tried to steady his nerves, and let his throwing knife slip into his palm.

The gang members stepped closer…