In The Outside

A dark circular enclosure housing hundreds of people, a lit rectangle in the distance, on it three sharply dressed men playing the guitar, another on the drums. ~”Oh what a night, late December back in ’53, what a very special time for me, cause I remember what a night…”~ Hundreds of excited heartbeats rattled above the music of Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons.. ~”Oh what a night, you know I didn’t even know her name, but I was never gonna be the same, what a lady, what a night..” ~ Bishop spun a laughing Harriet. ~”Oh I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room, as I recall it ended much too soon…” ~ Watching enviously as Bishop and Harriet swayed, Markus chugged on his cigarette. ~”Oh what a night, hypnotizing, mesmerizing me, she was everything I dreamt she’d be, sweet surrender, what a night!” ~
When the concert ended the trio of vampires were the first to exit. Once they were outside, they scoped potential victims as the audience cleared out. A group of stranglers, giggling, scantily clad females were spotted. Harriet looked at Bishop who in turn glanced at Markus. Flicking his cig aside, Markus approached them. “Ladies. How would you like to meet the band?” he asked softly. Excitement hit their hearts like a firework Markus led them into a side alley with Bishop and Harriet in hot pursuit.
The feast had just begun when the trio sensed a non-human approaching. “Is this a private party?” an English voice rang out. Harriet didn’t see the knowing look exchanged between Markus and Bishop. “Not at all,” she replied. “The more the merrier.”
Stepping forward was a broad-shouldered man, turned during his mid-forties, dark layered hair cut short, one eye jet black the other dark brown. “You’re too kind.” He replied.
“Mm perhaps I spoke too soon…freak.” Harriet said.
Bishop dropped the woman he had been eating, brushing his hands off in the process. “Lance, you must pardon Harriet, sometimes she’s too fiery for her own good.” He greeted.
“You know him?” Harriet asked bluntly.
“He does, but it’s quite alright James. I rather enjoy fiery.” Lance responded. He ignored Markus who offered him his meal as Lance passed by. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Harriet the Horrific.”
“Oh? All awful I hope.” Harriet smiled.
“Indeed.” Lance agreed studying her curiously. He gestured at the woman in Harriet’s grasp. “May I share her?” he asked. With her eyes darting to Bishop briefly, Harriet nodded once. Only the woman separated Harriet from Lance. “Madames first.” He encouraged. Harriet returned her fangs to the woman’s neck, Lance bit into her collarbone, his eyes remaining focused on Harriet. Together they drained her and when they were done, the woman’s body fell to the ground like a rock. (And like a rock, she was no longer significant.) With the barrier between them gone, Harriet and Lance looked each other over openly. “…She is a fine one James.” He announced.
Bishop’s smile was somewhat forced. His body was tense, his face rigid and if he had bothered to glance at Markus, Bishop would’ve noticed his posture was exactly the same. “Thank you.” He said.
A smile twisted on Harriet’s lips. “You’re not too hideous yourself, though I admit your eye is unnerving.” She replied.
An identical smile assembled on Lance’s face. “It is a sign of maturity.” He said.
“You’re old then?”
“Ancient.”
“How do you know Bishop?” Harriet asked.
“The same way most vampires know one another – business.” Lance answered.
“And what business is that?” Harriet pressed.
“Harriet.” Bishop silenced.
Lance’s gaze didn’t falter from her. “Perhaps you’ll learn soon, Precious.”
“Precious am I?” Harriet hummed, her fingertips snipping at Lance’s clifted chin. Lance’s hand coupled with hers and he raised it to his lips.
“Markus,” Bishop began, partly because Markus had taken an uneasy step forward and partly for his own reasons. “Would you be so kind to escort Harriet home….?”
“I don’t need an escort.” Harriet scowled. Bishop gave her a ‘don’t-trouble-me-right-now’ look and she sighed. “Fine. I’ll bring the lapdog home with me…” Harriet submitted, marching towards the mouth of the alley. Pausing she turned around and patted her knees excitedly. “C’mon lapdoggie, c’mon!” she cooed, her mocking gaze on Markus. Remaining stationary, Markus smirked then in one swift movement he was inches away from her, fangs sprouted in a hiss. Harriet merely pushed him away in disgust and kept walking, waving a hand overhead in a silent goodbye to Lance and her lover.

Markus’s nails chipped away at the desktop as he waited anxiously for Bishop to return. Ironically when Bishop did enter, Markus remained where he sat. “What are we going to do?” he greeted.
Bishop’s eyes narrowed. “/We/, Markus?” he repeated. Markus’s face turned indignant as he stood. “You know as well as I the customs…./I./ am going to give Lance what he wants.”
“Harriet.” Markus noted.
Bishop attempted to hide his frown but failed. “…Yes.” He said.
“And if she doesn’t want to go with him?”
“I don’t see why she wouldn’t, she and Lance were perfectly friendly.”
“It wont last.”
“Of course not. But that isn’t important.”
“No?” Markus challenged, starting to pace. “You’re going to just ‘give’ her to Lance? What is she a doll?! She gets no say in it?! Customary or not, that’s shit Bishop. Harriet’s ours!”
A long moment of silence passed, during which Bishop just eyed Markus blankly. “….Ours.” Bishop echoed. Markus grimaced but to his surprise, Bishop smirked. “I respect your opinion,” he began. Markus blinked. “I even agree with it. But as I said, that isn’t important.
“…It could be.”
“It cant.”

The sound of the front door closing echoed through the silent home. Hearing no heartbeat, Harriet stayed in the water, her eyes flicking to the corpse beside the tub she was in. Her eyes traveled up Markus as he appeared. He took a hand out of his pocket to gesture at the bloody water surrounding her. “…Time of the month?” he greeted.
“Funny.” Harriet said dryly though a smile was circling her lips. “To what do I owe the displeasure Markus?” she asked slinking deeper into the water.
“Thought you deserved to learn the truth…it’s been long enough.” Markus began, his mind teaming with ideas. He couldn’t tell her about Lance, she would ask questions that he wouldn’t have the answer for and her skepticism would grow and grow until she completely overlooked his warning.
Harriet forced a sigh out. “Alright, let’s hear it.” She hummed. Markus opened his mouth but Harriet spoke, her voice turning manly “’I’m queer for Bishop.’ – is that what you were about to say? I’ve known for a while Markus, it’s why you try so hard to get at me.” Markus’s face remained blank. “…Hm not even a chuckle. Very well doggie, speak.” Harriet encouraged, gliding to the side of the tub and resting her arms on the ledge.
“…Ever notice how Bishop mentions Aidan so often?” Markus asked.
“Aidan’s his prodigy, it would be unusual if he /didn’t/ praise the bastard every chance he got.” Harriet replied.
“Right but there’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
Markus smiled tensely. “You.” He lied.
Harriet’s face scrunched in confusion. “What?” she asked.
Markus laughed dully. “You think Bishop cares about you?”
“Are you saying he doesn’t?” Harriet replied.
“Sure he does. He cares so much, thinks you’re so damned perfect that you should be with Aidan.”
“…Bishop wants us to be killing partners?”
Markus rested his weight inches from Harriet causing her to coil back into the tub. He tried to ignore that minor fact but it stun. “In a trophyywife kind of way.”
“What are you saying Markus? Spit it out!” Harriet snapped.
“Bishop’s gonna pawn you off. He never wanted an eternity with you Harriet, he’s just been priming you, trying to get you up to Aidan’s speed. And you’re about there. Wont be long now…” Markus responded. Harriet’s gaze stared into empty space and Markus knew he had her. “Bishop loves you…like he loves a prized possession.” A sneer weaseled its way on his lips. “Or a pet.” He finished with malice.
Anger exploded on Harriet’s face and she sent a great splash of water at him. “LEAVE Markus. NOW.” She ordered.
Markus dunk his hand in the water. “But I was hoping to come in.” he grinned. Harriet’s leg lashed out and catching it, Markus planted a kiss on her thigh. Retracting her leg, Harriet pushed Markus’s head with her hands causing him to stagger. Smirking Markus blew her a kiss then made his exit.

When Harriet didn’t come to him, Bishop went to her last known address. Bishop found an envelope waiting on her nightstand, his name written in elegant cursive. Thinking this was some kind of game, Bishop smirked as he opened it. Inside was a slim bundle of Polraoids. The first one showed Bishop’s sire, Castillo, sitting on his knees with his hands behind his back. On the bottom of the picture was the word HOW. The next Polaroid showed a machete lodged half-way through Castillo’s neck, with the word DARE written on the bottom. The last Polaroid was taken at an upward angle, it showed Harriet standing in a pile of dust, her middle finger close to the lens. The final word was YOU. Disbelief clouding him, Bishop flipped through them again just to be sure – Harriet had written HOW DARE YOU on the images of her killing Bishop’s sire. Harriet had abandoned him but not before disgracing him first. Bishop’s grip turned limp and the photos flew out of his hands. “…..Markus….” he muttered.

Bishop eyed the small trope of vampires with a bemused smile. They parted to let Lance walk forward. “James.” He greeted tonelessly.
“Hello again Lance.” Bishop replied warmly.
“I’ve come to collect Precious.”
“I’m sorry to say, that wont be happening.”
The trope of vampires became more alert as Lance shifted his weight. “Oh? Why would that be?” he asked.
Bishop smiled humorlessly. “Unforunately Harriet and I…have had a falling out.” Lance’s eyebrow perked. “She’s gone. Left without even saying goodbye.” He explained.
“You intend to track her down.”
“I do.”
“Good.” Lance turned to leave but paused in the ranks of his trope, to glance back at Bishop. “And James…if she is not 100% Harriet the Horrific, stake her then yourself. Spare me the trouble.” Lance finished..
Bishop lowered his head in respect. By the time he raised it, Lance and his soliders were gone. Exhaling, Bishop journeyed into the basement, the stench of werewolf floating into his nostrils. Ironically the mutt was outside, and Markus was in its cage. Bishop knew the mutt wouldn’t try to escape, he had been entertaining them three years now. The werewolf was a professor, fresh out of college at the ripe age of thirty. Bishop nodded at The Professor in acknowledgement then slowly shifted his attention to the cage. In it was Markus who had slumped to his knees, barbed wire tightly roped around his neck pinning him to the cells of the cage. “Bishop, please.” He wheezed.
“Please what Markus?” Bishop mocked.
“Please. Let me out. It’s been in here…”
“Half a month. And?”
“I need to feed! Please” Markus said.
Bishop’s mouth moved wordlessly, mimicking him. A pathetic whimper rumbled out of Markus. Bishop just studied him. “You took Harriet from me.” He reminded.
Markus strained to look at him, the barbed wire gorging deeper into his neck. “You took her first..” he replied.
A smirk cut the corner of Bishop’s lip. “Whine. Whine. WHINE.” Bishop untangled the ends of the wire and wrapping them around his knuckles, flexed the wire yanking Markus to his feet. Holding the wire ends tightly, Bishop slowly pulled his knuckles away from each other twisting the barbs into Markus’s neck like mini-saws. “Bad doggie.” He breathed. In one swift movement Bishop had rived the wire over Markus’s head, the barbs searing the flesh on his cheeks. Markus staggered to the other end of the cage holding his face as he stared at Bishop undaunted. Bishop balled the barbed wire into a ball and flicked it at Markus. With a satisfied smirk, Bishop left without another a word.