Embracing the Shadows (21 page)

I woke again when I felt the trickle of a
warm, strong liquid in my mouth and running down my throat.
Thinking Viggo was giving me more Jack from my flask, I
instinctively swallowed. It wasn't Jack Daniels - it was better, so
much fucking better. I let my mouth hang open for more, and it was
given. My eyes sprung open. Viggo stood over me, pulling his wrist
away from my face. "Welcome back, Leo. Welcome to your new life,"
he said with a touch of sadness.

Confused, I looked down at the rips in my
gut. They were still pushed open by my innards, but the blood had
stopped. For each wound, I pressed my guts in, pinched flesh
together, and visualized it knitting back together. The first wound
healed quickly; the next two even more so. Other than a sense of
clarity, I didn't feel any different. Turning my head to Viggo, I
said, "Was that it? That wasn't so bad."

He shook his head slowly. "Technically, you
have been brought into the night. You are a member of the Deviant
faction and, more importantly, my scion. Whether you can remain so
. . . will soon be seen."

"Whoa, uh, what the hell does that mean?"

Viggo crossed his arms and stated ominously,
"By this time tomorrow night, you will be in the grip of the
infliction. Your world will be nothing but pain."

THIRST

Huh, infliction and pain . . . Not two of my
favorite words. I was a little rattled by them.

"You are far from fully fed," Viggo told me.
"We should fix that. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so." When I eased myself out
of the leather chair, I realized a few things. First, I still had
big slivers of wood stuck in me. Second, I didn't feel any of the
aching effects of being tossed around. Third, and most evident, was
that the blood-bond to Viggo was gone. I still respected him more
than I can say, but I had a clear perspective on all of the things
he'd said and done. I immediately began to question some of those
things that were simply accepted before.

While Viggo helped me pull out the slivers, I
looked around at the room he brought us to. It was a small chamber
made of stone and mortar. A few pipes ran through it, up near the
high ceiling. There was only one door, metal and rusty. Other than
the nice recliner chair, the only other thing in the room was a
widescreen TV mounted to a wall. "Where are we?"

"A private retreat," he replied. "The
entrance has been cloaked. I have others. This one, however, is
near feeding locations, both above and below. For now, we will only
take sustenance from down here. You must gather strength and learn
your new Gifts before attempting to stalk humans."

"Stalk humans?" I asked. I was a little
unnerved by the idea. "I knew it was done on a regular basis, but I
never pictured myself doing it." Holy shit, hunting people for
blood . . . The concept of being a hemo hadn't sunk in yet. I'll
admit it - I was scared.

Viggo led me through the door out into a
curving, narrow brick hallway lit with sporadic bulbs. It had a
shallow trench cut into the center of the floor; the lumpy contents
in it were moist, but there wasn't enough fluid to make it flow.
The resulting stench was a mix of mold, vomit, and sour milk. It
made me doubt I could be one of the sewer-dwelling Deviants like
Roach or Neva.

We turned left at a tunnel junction. It led
to a T, where our tunnel met a wide drainage shaft. There was a
sort of tiny sandbar where the two met, although that sand was
really sludge with a sprinkling of broken glass. How lovely.
Frolicking on that little underground beach from hell were about a
dozen big rats. "Okay, now what?" I asked.

Viggo turned to me. "Tell me how you
feel."

"Well, I gotta take a piss, and I'm hungry.
But, uh, like a cheeseburger kind of hungry, not raw rat."

"Is that so? Indulge me, Leo. Run your tongue
over your teeth." I did, and was surprised to feel that my canines
were very pronounced and sharp. Viggo saw my expression. "When a
numen body is depleted of blood, the teeth for feeding will grow
automatically. You must slake your thirst."

"Uh, are there any other options?"

"Only one; you can deny your need. Soon
enough, it will cause you to lose control, fully in the throes of
blood-lust. You will attack anything, not stopping until you are
fully sated." The explanation reminded me of the wild hemo in the
park that I shot. I still felt bad for that raccoon.

"Listen well, Leo," Viggo continued. "Because
of your strong lineage, your blood is concentrated. A large
quantity will be needed to replenish you if you become hungry."

"So . . . it's like I have a big-ass gas
tank, and it takes more to fill it up when I'm low, right?"

Viggo stared at me for a second; I guess he
wasn't thrilled with my analogy. "Essentially yes," he said. "And,
like a fuel tank, you can go further with yours than most others.
They must 'refill' more often. Moreover, you can use your stronger
blood to augment your physical abilities and empower Gifts that
require it. As an example, Mr. Fletcher needs to channel a small
portion of his blood into the effort of transforming into a
wolf."

"Are you saying I can -?"

"No, I do not have that Gift, so my blood
would not have passed it along to you. There are many others I do
possess, however, and we shall explore what you instinctively may
already know, in due course. For now, though," Viggo said as he
waved an inviting hand toward the rats, "drink."

I'm not going into the details other than to
say I almost couldn't do it, and that biting into a squirming,
dirty rodent was going to take some getting used to. Okay, they
were rats, but their blood tasted good. Viggo told me while I
grabbed another docile rat that I didn't have to worry about
diseases or anything. Eleven rats later I was still hungry, so he
used his Gift of Fauna to call more.

A short time later I was full, and completely
disgusted with myself. I sat in the sludge with blood spilt down
the front of me, surrounded by over forty dead rats. Fighting a gag
impulse, I stood up and pissed into the streaming water. I stood
there for nearly two fucking minutes draining my bladder. As I
zipped up, Viggo commented that I wouldn't have to worry about that
bodily urge again - ever.

"No offense," I said to him, "but I think I
wanna be alone for a little while." We went back to the hidden
room, where Viggo told me I'd tire soon and that the chair was
comfortable for resting. Before leaving, he said he'd be back the
next evening.

I sat back in my ruined clothes and turned on
the TV. The channel it was on reminded me the date was July Fourth.
Fine, whatever - I'd had a different version of fireworks that
evening. I was thrown twenty feet into a stack of wood, had my head
bounced on a wall, got my gut ripped open, was turned into a hemo,
and bit into one squealing rat after another. Regular fireworks
were for pussies.

Ignoring the giant cockroach on the pipe
above me, I changed channels until I came across a 'Dirty Jobs'
marathon. I eventually dozed off convinced that the host of that
show was some Deviant's minion.

INFLICTION

Even though the recliner didn't stretch out
like a bed, I woke up feeling good. Wait, change that to great.
Strong, alert, fluid in my movements - my new vitality was looking
for an outlet. I wasn't going to beat the shit out of the chair, so
I calmed myself with a kata. I still felt like a live wire
afterwards, but I gained composure and control over my body.

Three minutes later, that composure and
control were gone.

The pain started in my stomach. It settled in
my bowels and gathered strength, causing me to flinch and grunt
from cramps. The king of all shits was on its way. When Viggo
walked in, I yelled, "Toilet, NOW!"

He put his arm around me. We void-walked and
came out in another stone room. I really didn't notice anything
else except for the toilet in the far corner. I didn't care that
there was no privacy. Viggo told me to flush often, and then
stepped out of the room. Holy shit, it was like I overdosed on that
stuff you're supposed to drink before a colonoscopy. Someone
thankfully thought ahead; there was a new six-pack of toilet paper
on the floor next to me.

It must've been twenty minutes of grunting,
groaning and constant crapping. I put my face in my hands, noticing
that I wasn't sweating like I would've expected to be after
shooting out ten pounds of shit. Oh, sorry, was that too graphic?
Deal with it. I did.

I cleaned up (which took a few more flushes)
and looked around. The room was carved out of solid stone, about
twenty feet square and without much in it. There was a rusty shower
pipe and drain in the corner across from the toilet, a cot against
a wall, a low ceiling with one overhead bulb, and an iron door in
the far corner. That door had one of those slide slots for looking
in. It also had locks that prevented me from getting out.

I started with a patient knock that quickly
escalated into cussing in rhythm to my fist hammering on the door.
I stopped when I saw the dents I was leaving in it. A while later,
Viggo and Barnabus opened the door and came in carrying large
cardboard boxes. Viggo set his box on the floor, pulled an apple
out of his coat pocket and tossed it to me. "Take a bite," he
requested. I did, and it went down fine. About ten seconds later,
it came right back up. I didn't quite make it to the toilet. "You
do not have Harlan's ability to ingest food," he stated
conversationally. "No more steak or cheeseburgers for you,
Leo."

"Yeah, thanks," I said as I glared at him. To
be fair, though, there wasn't any other way to find out. The apple
also helped to drive home the point that I wasn't human
anymore.

"The emptying of your bowels signals the
beginning of the infliction," Viggo said with some compassion. "You
will remain in this room until it is over. We have brought you some
items for your stay."

I wiped my mouth and fought back the despair
of being imprisoned again. "Okay, thanks."

Barnabus set his box on my cot. "I have
selected a number of fine reading materials for you, Leo," he said,
trying to sound upbeat. "With any luck, you'll be able to focus on
the well-crafted literary prose instead of, well, anything else.
And do not become disheartened if you unintentionally damage any; I
happen to own more copies of each of these works."

Reaching into another coat pocket, Viggo
pulled out two rubber balls. He was about to toss them to me when I
had sudden, painful spasms in my hands. Viggo waited while I tried
to get my fingers to uncurl. He set the balls next to me and said,
"These are for simple entertainment, and to grip when more pain
comes." He turned back to his box and tipped it over. The flaps
opened, allowing a shitload of rats to come scrambling out. "These
are meant for sustenance should you expend excess energy during
your stay. I do ask that at least one is spared so you may continue
your practice of the Gift of Fauna."

"You may find," Barnabus added, "that success
will come sooner for you now."

"What about -" An unexpected, stabbing pain
in my spine interrupted me. "What about my cat?"

"Clara now has a spare key to your abode, and
will look after your pet," Viggo answered. "I have your phone,
keys, wallet, and gun. Nothing was lost. I will soon return them to
you."

"Okay, okay," I stammered as my teeth began
to ache. "My friends - they're going to worry."

"One thing at a time, Leo," Barnabus calmly
said. "You can decide how to handle those matters once this is
over. Your sire has expressed to me that two of his minions have
been told of the situation, so don't needlessly concern yourself
with them for now."

"Alright, thanks," I said, forcing out the
words. "I appreciate all this, but maybe -" I flinched when my dick
started burning - "maybe you should both leave now."

They turned and exited without a word. Soon
after the echo of the shutting door faded away, all of my nerve
endings screamed at me. I screamed back. The pain had just
begun.

I've felt my share of pain before, and I've
seen braver men than me endure more than I have. But none of that
compared to the infliction. Torturing my body was not enough - it
attacked my mind as well, challenging my sanity and twisting my
memories into nightmares. I won't try to explain the excruciating
agony I went through; I don't have the words, and you couldn't
imagine it if I did. I wouldn't want you to.

The pain seemed endless, although there were
a few merciful breathers. I tried reading Barnabus' extra copy of
Paradise Lost a couple times, but waves of searing pain made more
than a few pages impossible. The balls were never used for fun; I
never had the chance to be bored. I squeezed the balls to toughen
my will when the infliction tried to trick me, break me. Some of
the rats were used as food, but as few as possible. I raged a few
times, and blacked out more than I care to admit. Time had no
meaning.

The infliction's last assault was the worst.
When it was finally over, and before I lost consciousness for the
last time, I knew who I was. I woke up sometime later on the floor,
with my head on someone's lap. I looked up and saw Neva smiling at
me as she brushed my hair with her fingers.

When I was human, Neva's 'taint of horror'
truly freaked me out. But just then, as she held me, it wasn't so
bad. Once I was past that, her porcelain skin and blue veins were
almost exotic. Her milky white hair almost glowed. If her looks
weren't so alien, she would've been beautiful. I fell back to sleep
knowing I was safe, and that all of my memories were intact.

I woke again when the door shut; Neva was
gone. With nothing better to do, I picked up a rat and gave the
Gift of Fauna another shot. Within seconds, I was smiling.