Shining in Crimson: Empire of Blood Book One (A Dystopian Vampire Novel) (5 page)

Shining the flashlight at some of the houses, he walked along the dimly lit road. There was very little to see.
Just old houses with heat-worn paint.
The yards, or rather what was left of them, consisted of dusty ground with the occasional patch of short red and brown weeds. He continued on to the next block and then the next without incident. The only sounds were the echo of his footsteps. Eventually he started to calm down for the first time since he had been caught. For the first time in a week, he found himself able to let his thoughts wander. He found it ironic he had been condemned to die in a state once famous for legalized prostitution, considering the crime he was guilty of. He was
more angry
that the "prostitute" ended up being a morality cop than ashamed for what he had done. He looked up at the night sky and noticed that as he walked farther from the center of the city, more and
more dim
stars became visible. He was glad it didn't seem as though it would rain. But then again, this being his first visit to
Nevada
, he had no idea how often it rained here or how badly it could.

After walking about ten blocks or so, Hank found a knee-high concrete barrier at the end of a yard and sat down. He slipped the backpack off and reached inside, feeling around until he found the two thermoses. The first one he grabbed was red. He stuffed it back inside and grabbed the other in its place. He pulled the thermos out, unscrewed the lid, double checked it was water, and took a big drink. The water was warm but refreshing none the less. He was beginning to feel the hours since he ate his "last meal." He would hardly call it a meal, though.
Miniature portions of toast, mashed potatoes, something that was supposed to be some kind of meat with gravy, and corn, all of which tasted like water.
Bad water at that.
He was beginning to wonder what kind of canned foods he could find in the houses. He knew better than to look for frozen foods. It had been just over 20 years since anyone lived here. He turned and looked at the house behind him. After a moment of thinking it through, he decided to give it a shot.

He stood up and pulled his machete from its sheath. He could barely make out the dried blood on the blade in the pale street light coming from down the block. The wind picked up, sending
a tumbleweed
in front of Hank as he started walking through the yard toward the house. Ahead, he could see a large porch above three large concrete steps. The house was made of brick. He couldn't tell if the brick was brown or some odd shade of red. The front door had once been painted dark brown but now only flakes of the original paint remained. It had a small square window towards the top. As he shined his flashlight around the porch, several spider webs reflected the light back at him in thin lines of bright silver weaved into intricate patterns. He was about to turn around and give up when his stomach growled. He began weighing his options. On one hand, he could deal with some spiders even if he did have a pretty strong case of arachnophobia. On the other hand, it was common knowledge that the suburbs, cities, and towns that once surrounded the city eventually became abandoned after the blood pact. Who knew when he would find food? Beyond that, if he made it out of the city alive, he would still be a fugitive and had little hope of being safe anywhere populated.

He shined the flashlight around again looking for any visible spiders in the hope that maybe they were long gone. His hope disintegrated when he saw a huge brown spider sitting in the middle of one of the webs. It hung upside down a few feet to the left of the door above an old wooden rocking chair sitting against the wall. He pointed the flashlight at it and ran it along the web to the right until he could see that the web ended on the other side of the door.

"Shit," he said, cringing. He took a deep breath and before he could talk himself out of it, he charged up the stairs. He put the machete in its sheath and went for the door. He reached out and tried to turn the doorknob. It turned freely but the door would not open. He took the flashlight into his right hand and busted in the little window with the handle end. The sound of the window breaking echoed off the houses across the streets, causing him to jump and look behind himself. When he managed to calm himself again, he turned back to the door. This was turning out to be a lot of hassle.

Hank put the flashlight under his left arm and picked up the rocking chair. It felt light as he put it in front of the door. Then he stepped up onto it and reached his right arm inside the little window. Once his whole arm was inside he felt around for locks. Finding what felt like a small, oval knob, he tried turning it. As his fingers pressed into the knob, he had to push himself against the door in order to reach enough to turn it. Then it made a loud click and a large cloud of dust shot out from between the door and the door jam. While pulling his arm out of the window, Hank fanned the dust cloud with his other hand and coughed to free his lungs of the dust. Once he could breathe again, he reached down and tried the doorknob once more. With the deadbolt unlocked, it slid open immediately. Hank laughed in triumph, jumped down from the chair, and pulled it aside. Then, with a huge grin on his face and his flashlight at the ready, he pushed the door wide open. A thick, musty smell nearly knocked him over. Inside, everywhere he shined the flashlight, was a thick cover of spider webs. In just one pass of the flashlight, he counted nine spiders within the mess of webs.

"Son of a bitch," he said bitterly, looking wide-eyed at the silver threaded mess before him.

* * *

Ishan sat with his mouth open about to speak when he seemed to change his mind. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and smiled at Simon.

"Do you know the history of this magnificent building on which we all sit, Simon?" he asked, spreading his arms out and turning his head to look from one end of the building to the other. Simon shook his head nervously.

"No, sir, I do not," he stammered.

"It's called," Ishan said, pausing with an air of mystique, "the Stratosphere. I wouldn't expect you to know anything about it. In fact, I would be quite surprised if you knew much of anything about this city's history at all." The rest of the vampires sat as still as if they were dead watching Ishan like he had hypnotized them.

Simon only nodded. Indeed, he
knew
very little about the city's history nor did he care to know. He knew it had once been a human slush pit of sin. That was all that mattered. The righteous Empire, of whom Simon had known and loved most of his life, had done God's will using these demons he was sitting with right now to "cleanse" the city.

"You see
Simon,
this building we sit atop was a source of entertainment. Not only for its breathtaking view, but for its restaurant inside, and ..." Ishan said, trailing off as he got up from his seat. Simon noticed the vampire was holding some kind of handheld electric device. Ishan pushed a button on the device and held out his arms while something huge with neon lights began to come out of the building behind him. Then the thing came to a stop and tipped downward like a huge teeter totter. When it was still, Simon noticed it was actually some sort of amusement ride. "...for its thrilling rides." Ishan said.

Simon began to sweat profusely as the rest of the vampires at the table leapt from their seats and joined Ishan in admiring the ride.

"This," Ishan said, pointing up at the ride he was still facing "is the X-Scream." The other vampires applauded.

Simon felt his stomach turn again. He was beginning to think he liked Ishan much better when the vampire seemed bored and indifferent. But now, Simon had managed to unhinge him. Realizing this, Simon began to shake uncontrollably while still gripping the arms of his chair. At the very moment Simon began to shake, Ishan turned to face him. Looking directly into Simon's eyes he spoke in the same bored tone he had used earlier.

"Peter, give Mr. Withers the time of his life."

Peter grinned with delight.

"Unless," Ishan said, "Mr. Withers, you can do something to help us?"

"It's not up to me. I'm just a little pissant!" he yelled, stumbling to his feet. "Please, I don't have the power to make such arrangements!"

Ishan’s stare darkened. "Then why are you the Mediator?" he asked and then clenched his trembling jaw. As if they had been cued, Peter and the other vampires began moving toward Simon in a slow stalking prowl. Their bodies appeared to be shivering. Simon was starting to wonder if it was really blood these particular vampires lusted after and not pure fear. He looked at them as they crept up to him. He knew it was pointless but his body decided it was time to go. He turned and ran with all of his might, faster than he had probably ever run his whole life. Within fifteen feet, several blurs flashed in front of him. Before his brain could process that each blur had been a vampire, he was looking up at the sky and then down at his legs dragging on the concrete floor. He could only manage to keep his head turned far enough for a split second, but he recognized that Peter was the one dragging him. He could see the others at Peter's side out of the corner of his eyes as he slid along behind them. Scared and exhausted, he didn't have the strength or determination to fight.

Simon felt himself rise into the air and watched the stars grow long glowing tails as Peter flung him down into the front seat of the X-Scream. As he sat there helpless, being strapped into an amusement ride at the top of a skyscraping tower by a vampire, Simon caught a glimpse of Ishan back at the table. The head vampire sat there like a statue leaning to his right. Even though he was seeing Ishan from behind, Simon could tell from the way his arm held up his head that he was in deep thought. He could hear several plops as the other vampires sat down in the seats behind him. Peter, however, positioned himself in front of Simon, facing him, by wedging himself between Simon's seat and the nose of the ride.

The last thought Simon had as the ride began creeping forward was that vampires were truly absurd. A moment later the ride shot forward and down as Simon felt his body thrown back against the chair. He was sure this was what it felt like to crash a plane from the pilot's point of view. The motion only lasted a few seconds, but felt like eternity, as the vampires shouted out with excitement. Then the ride came to its furthest forward point and stopped, causing the seat belt holding Simon to jerk at his body. Simon screamed out in pain. Peter held onto Simon's seat and smiled down at him with his fangs visible, hardly showing any effects from the jolt.

"Don't you understand, Simon?" Peter yelled over the cheering of the other vampires. "We don't want to negotiate with a peon like you!" Peter's expression became serious for the first time. "We want to get things done and we can't do that with someone we can't respect!" The ride began to rise until Simon could feel his equilibrium come back and then it jerked again. Then smooth, cold hands slid down and back up Simon’s chest. A female voice he knew to be Rachel's whispered into his ear.

"You see, Simon, you Mediators are all alike," she said in a hiss.
"So proud and righteous.
So slick and slithery," she continued, her pitch and volume rising. "So weak and useless!" she screamed full on into his ear.

Silence filled Simon’s left side as he felt blood run down the side of his face from his ear. Before he could even make the connection Rachel began to lick the blood from his face like a cat lapping up milk. As she licked up closer to his ear, her fangs lightly grazed his earlobe, exciting him in more than one way at the same time. She seemed to sense his arousal and immediately acted upon it. She began sliding her hand down his chest slowly.
Then his stomach.
She groped at the bulge in his crotch. He closed his eyes in a mixture of revulsion and pleasure.

As she did this, she began sliding her fangs from his ear along his cheek sideways. This increased his excitement for reasons he could not begin to understand. He could tell he was starting to get close. She lifted her head from his and smiled at him as if she could tell as well. He was so mesmerized with ecstasy that he forgot all about his inhibitions, his religious zeal, and his righteous Empire. He even pretended he didn't enjoy Peter standing there watching.

When he was on the very verge of climax, she pulled her hand away and in a blur of movement she punched him in the shoulder. It snapped loudly as Simon felt every nerve in his body relocate. Half went to his crotch and the other half into his collar bone, where they burst into agony. He screamed in a high pitch his vocal chords had never hit before. Peter burst out laughing. Then, at that very moment, the ride began to lean backward slowly. Within a few seconds, it was shooting backward. Simon's body pushed against the harness, causing him more pain than his body could withstand. Everything began to fade including the pain. Then Simon went into a warm, dark abyss.

When he woke up, Simon was sitting in the chair he was first offered upon arriving. The pain in his shoulder was gone and he could hear someone talking to him from both of his ears. He opened his eyes and saw the vampires all sitting where they had been earlier.

"My, sh-shoulder.
It's not broken... and my ear. I can hear. Wha-what did you do?" he asked frantically. The vampires all looked at him with curious expressions.

"I'm afraid, I don't know what you're talking about, Simon," Ishan said. "Peter, Rachel, do you know what Mr. Withers is speaking of?"

"No, I haven't the slightest clue," Peter said and smirked.

"Neither have I," Rachel added, smiling.