Fanghunters (13 page)

Vincent Beauchamp released a contented
sigh as he pulled apart the outer casing of the mold he’d left to set. The
prize inside popped out and hit
the
surface of the
metal desk with a tiny clang. Vincent picked up the cube of clear Lucite and
held it up to the fluorescent light. Encapsulated inside were the fangs he’d
extracted from the vamp young Dominic had slain. Vincent turned the small block
in his hand, taking the fangs in from all angles. He nodded his head in
appreciation. “A clean set of ivories on this one,” he mumbled to himself. He
took a moment to stare through the hollow, syringe-like stem of each fang,
through where the venom flowed freely. The very thought of having both of them
sink deep into one’s flesh was a sickening prospect. One he’d hate to ever
experience. He pitied those that had.

He looked away briefly and shivered. He
then turned his attention back to the preserved fangs and sighed. It was
strange. There was this seemingly unending satisfaction in extracting vampire
fangs that he couldn’t quite explain. Fascinating things. What was even more
fascinating was the fact that they are the only part of a vampire that doesn’t
dissolve in sunlight. Most curious. The brain, the heart, the bones, the blood,
all evaporate under the UV light, but the teeth were made of sterner stuff. And
that was why he chose to keep hold of them.

As for the corpse. Well, the weather
forecast for the next day was dry and sunny. He’d lay the body out on the back
porch and watch it frazzle away into dust, glass of mineral water in hand. He
had nothing on tomorrow.

He chuckled to himself as he stood up from
the desk and made his way toward the door at the back of his lab. He triggered
the voice recognition and the metal door slid open to reveal his secret room.
His personal trophy room. He stepped inside with a spritely gait, happy for
young Dominic, glad that he pulled through and managed to kill his first vamp.
Vincent had been worried he wouldn’t see or hear from him again. Unfortunately,
that had happened in the past and he quite liked the young man. He had spirit.
An inner strength. Vincent appreciated that.

He fully entered the small room and flicked
on the light switch. The overheads came on, illuminating both the small chamber
and his trophy cabinets, along with their contents. Now, hundreds of similar
blocks of clear Lucite resin stared back at him, each with a pair of fangs
encapsulated within them. He scanned the rows and rows of trophies, seeking the
perfect spot for his latest addition. Space was at a premium and Vincent
suddenly realized he’d need a whole other trophy room pretty soon to store his
prizes. He managed to find a space on the top shelf of the cabinet nearest the
door. He carefully placed the block down amongst the others where it fit nice
and snug. Vincent took a step back and stared up at it, pride and nostalgia
surging through him. Years and years of hard work, good work stared back at
him. Necessary work. Work that had earned him the moniker of the Dentist.

Fearsome vampire slayer.

But, he needed new blood. An apprentice to
take up the mantle. His creaking bones were no longer up to the task. Dominic
had passed the first test with flying colors, now it was about him overcoming
the next hurdle: separating oneself from the normality of life. It all came
down to how much he wanted to change things.

    And only time would tell.

    A satisfactory smile spread across
Vincent’s wizened face. It had been a good day. He turned and left the room and
his prizes alone, flicking the light off. He stepped through his underground
lab and up the stairs that led back to the hallway of his mansion. From there
he entered the lounge where he and Dominic had been sitting just a day or two
before.
Was it a day? Two?
Vincent found himself having a senior moment;
his memory wasn’t what it once was. He shrugged. It didn’t really matter.
A
day or two, what difference did it make?

He moved over to the sideboard where he
poured himself a glass of mineral water. He went to pick it up when something
popped into his mind. “Oh!” he said aloud, before digging a hand in his trouser
pocket. He pulled out a chain with silver pendant dangling from it. The one
he’d noticed hanging around the dead vampire’s neck. He removed it from the
corpse, only just remembering he’d placed it in his pocket.
That vampire
must have thought it valuable to hang it around his neck in such a fashion.
He
held it up to the light coming in through the window. The pendant gleamed and
glittered as it swayed idly to and fro on the air. Vincent stared at it in
confusion. He swore he could feel something emanating from it as it swung this
way and that. Something... not good. He got a tingling; it crawled up his spine
and branched out into the very marrow of his bones. He shivered. And the more
he stared, the more he found himself transfixed. He watched it sway back and
forward, its effect akin to a hypnotist swinging a watch whilst attempting to
put someone under. Vincent felt his eyes half close that tingling continuing
unabated. Something wasn’t right. And then he could hear a faint whisper; the
ancient recitals of a forgotten past. They uttered in the hushed tones of
creatures skulking in the shadows.
The darkness is coming...
they said
among other things.

Vincent listened to them, his jaw slack,
his eyes now slits, while that pendant swung to and fro. To and fro.

The darkness.

The dark.

Fear. Spite.

Hate...

Can you feel—?

A noise behind him made him start, breaking
his bizarre trance. He spun, eyes widening, to be faced with the young lady
jumping in through the open window. He quickly jammed the pendant into his
pocket, its effects quickly dissipating, becoming a memory. He cleared his
throat and then narrowed his eyes in disapproval. “I wish you’d use the door,
Patricia” he told her as she strode up to him.

“Doors are boring, Daddy...” she replied. “And
I wish you’d stop calling me Patricia.”

Vincent huffed. “And
I
wish you’d
stop calling me ‘Daddy’.”

“Sorry, Dad...”

Vincent groaned under his breath. “It’s
just not normal to be jumping through windows...
Trixie
,” he then said.

“Says the man who collects vampire
fangs...” Trixie retorted.

Vincent sighed. “They’re a reminder of what
needs to be done,” he said with a dark glare.

“Speaking of that, I found another one,”
Trixie told him.

“Where?”

Trixie checked her nails. “South Side. Need
a new ad? I’ll get the tech guys on it.”

Vincent turned his mouth down and looked to
the side. “Maybe. So, how did our boy do today?”

“Not bad. Had to step in at one point when
a fanghead tried to throttle him to death.”

Vincent chuckled. “Sounds... interesting.
Funny, he never mentioned that...” He narrowed his eyes. “Protégé material?”

“If he can avoid almost get himself
killed...” She shrugged. “He might be okay.”

“I hope so, Trixie. We need new blood,
especially as the Great Unveiling is nearly upon us.”

Trixie widened her eyes. “Ooh scary.” She
wiggled her fingers on the air. “Great Unveiling!
Pff
, whatever, Dad...”

Vincent let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll
see for yourself soon enough.”

“Can’t wait...”

Vincent put on a pleasant smile, before
changing track. “I have to say I quite liked young Dominic. How about you? What
did you think of him?”

She smiled. “He’s cute, in an innocent
kinda way...”

“If only I had a son,” Vincent lamented. “Then
I wouldn’t have to outsource for my replacement.”

Trixie cocked her head to the side. “Thanks,
Daddy.”

“Well, you refuse to take on the challenge.”

“I told you, Dad, I don’t like to get my
clothes dirty.”

Vincent pointed at her. “Yes, we
must
look after the clothes, of course...” He held up his glass. “You know, I’m
really beginning to think that with young Dominic we might have just solved our
problem. I’m seriously considering bringing him into the family. Okay with you?”

Trixie shrugged. “Okay, as long as
I
don’t have to keep bailing him out.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get good over time.
It’s all about experience, my dear...” Vincent gave her a grin before he
drained the last of his water. He let out a satisfied gasp afterwards.
Indeed.
Youth coupled with experience—a killer combination.

He poured another glass of water and
toasted his daughter. “Cheers,” he said with a cunning grin.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid
open, the fluorescent light from inside spilling out into the darkened building
floor. Ensconced inside was Sammy the Saint, much to Leviah’s deep chagrin. He
watched on from his leather recliner with sullen, apathetic eyes, idly tapping
the armrest with his slender fingers in a passionless concerto. He took a brief
moment to pour himself a glass of blood from the bottle on the table ahead of
him, ignoring the visitors to his chamber. With a sigh, he casually picked up
his glass, before leaning back and taking in the heady aromas of his drink. He
scented a good measure of sub-Sahara African, laced with peasant Arabic, with
just a hint of regal interloper thrown into the mix. A delectable combination.
A drink of rarest quality. As he drank, the occupants of the elevator stepped
out into the room; apart from Sammy, Leviah didn’t recognize the others. Nor
did he care. He was instead enjoying the myriad of lifelines swarming over his
tongue, the sensation transporting him all the way back to the desert
incarceration, the sweat of the slaves a delight on his taste buds.

“Hey, Pops,” Sammy said in greeting, and
Leviah was unceremoniously sucked through the void of DNA memory back into the
dreary chamber he was confined to. He opened his black eyes and laid them on
the people standing ahead of him. Their ordinariness was infectious.

He placed his
glass down on the table in a lethargic fashion, then leant back in his seat.
Under the dim fluorescent lights, he took on a blue tinge, devoid of life. His thick-set
jaw, which was home to some of the meanest fangs in all vamp society, jutted
outward. His brooding eyes burned with impatience. “Yes, Sammy, what is it?” he
asked with a labored sigh.

“We’ve found
Drake,” Sammy answered with what appeared to be a glint of excitement in his
eye. Leviah was far too old to feel excitement; it was a trivial state of
being, one that inevitably led to disappointment.

He placed an
elbow on the arm of his recliner and used the first two fingers of his hand to
prop up his head by the temple. “So, where is he?”

“Dead.”

“That’s unfortunate...” Leviah replied with
a frivolous shrug. “And the relic?”

Sammy’s eyes began rolling. “Er...”

“You
did
retrieve the relic from
him, didn’t you?” Leviah asked, unflinching.

“We had a snag,” Sammy finally said with a
sigh.

“A snag?” Leviah echoed in a neutral tone.

“Yeah,” Sammy replied, wringing his hands
and nodding briskly. “When we made it to his nest, he was
vamos
.”

Leviah released an agitated sigh.
So
much for excitement…
“So, what you’re telling me is you lost him.”

“Not exactly.”

Leviah rubbed his eyes. “My patience is not
the best tonight, Sammy...”

“Someone else snuffed him,” Sammy then
blurted. “They bagged his body
and
the Eye.”

Leviah’s eyes snapped open. He frowned.
“Who?”

“I think maybe these guys can tell you...”
Sammy said, cocking his thumb over his shoulder at the three blood sacks
cowering behind him. They were disheveled and nervous.

Leviah could smell the perfume of fear on
them. They reeked. “Come,” he said, ushering them with a tired flip of his
hand.

At first they were reluctant, the fear
gripping them. They were taking nervous glances at the exotic torture devices
stationed around the chamber. Leviah liked that.

Sammy then grabbed one by the scruff of his
shirt and shoved him forward. “The boss wants to speak with you!” he sneered.

The blood sack came to a halt ahead of
Leviah; he stood before him, his head bowed, his shoulders shuddering.
“Y-y-yes,
highness
,” he said in a jittery voice.

Leviah rolled his eyes. “What’s your name,
child?” he then asked with a huff.

“Marlon.” He turned briefly back to the
other two. “That’s Craig and Jeff.”

“Were you all Drake’s brood?”

Marlon glanced to the side. “Yeah, I
guess.”

“Tell me what happened to him.”

Marlon met Leviah’s stare for the first
time. “Someone came,” he said. “Someone came to kill him.”

Leviah remained unmoved. “And did you see
them?”

Marlon nodded fervently. “Yeah.”

“How many?”

“Two. A guy and a girl.”

Leviah glanced at Sammy, who nodded in
return. Some semblance of urgency suddenly overcame Leviah; he clicked his
fingers and pointed over to the desk in the middle of the room, which was strewn
with empty bottles, guns, knives, and various pieces of communications tech.
Sammy rushed over, picked up a tablet, and hastily switched it on. He began
touching the screen as he approached the now eager Leviah. Once Sammy found
what he was searching for, he nodded his head, then turned the screen towards
Leviah for him to see. Leviah gave him a brief nod, then pointed toward Marlon.

Sammy went and showed him the screen. “Is
this the girl you saw?” Sammy asked, showing him an image of the Dentist’s daughter.

Marlon craned his neck forward and squinted
his eyes. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, his mind working over.
Then, his eyes widened. “Yeah!” he said with a vehement nod of his head.
“That’s her!”

“You’re sure?” Leviah asked, his brow
furrowed in concern.

Marlon carried on nodding. “Absolutely, no
doubt, man. I’ll never forget that bitch. Who is she?”

“She’s not your concern,” Leviah told him.

“You
are
gonna smoke her, though,
right?” Marlon asked, looking from Sammy to Leviah and back again with wide,
eager eyes.

Leviah and Sammy exchanged glances once
more. “She’ll be dealt with appropriately...” Leviah assured him.

“Good, cause I’m still hurting from what
that bitch did to me!” Marlon stated, rubbing his jaw.

Leviah sighed in irritation. “You said
there was a man as well.”

Marlon faced him. “Yeah, he was already
there before she came. I was about to take care of him when she jumped in and
saved him.”

Leviah caught Sammy’s stare and then
pointed at the tablet. Sammy began swiping and touching once more. Soon, he was
nodding. He glanced at Leviah.

“Is this him?” Leviah asked while Sammy now
showed him an image of the Dentist; the slayer of the old Order.

Marlon frowned, his mind working once more.
Leviah scrutinized him carefully; he expected at any moment to see a spark of
recognition ignite in his eyes. But there was nothing, just a blank stare.

Marlon’s mouth turned downwards. “No...” he
said with a shake of his head. “That dude’s too old. The other guy was younger.
A lot younger.”

“A younger man?” Leviah echoed. “Are you
sure?”

“Yeah, I’m
sure,” Marlon said with a vehement nod as if insulted. “I wouldn’t have had a
problem taking out the old guy, would I? It was a young dude; big, strong,
difficult to take down. And I woulda done if it hadn’t a been for the bitch
that shot me up with tranq.”

“Yes, yes, yes,”
Leviah said with a flip of his hand. “You’ve informed us ad nauseam.” He then
fell back in his seat with a sigh
. A younger man with the Dentist’s
daughter? A partner? A new apprentice of the Dentist? Someone to concern the
Order?

“And what about
you two?” Sammy asked the other two blood sacks, who were quietly standing in
the background.

They both shook
their heads. “No, it was a younger dude,” one of them said in a timid voice.
“Without doubt.”

Leviah mulled
what he was hearing with some concern.
Who was this new foe? What role did
he play alongside the slayer and his daughter? Was he a danger? More
complications...

“Hey, uh... Can
any of you guys jab us?” Marlon then asked, glancing at each vamp, but ending
on Leviah, his favored source of venom; the fangs looked like they packed a
huge hit. “We haven’t had a fix since Drake died and we’ve got the shakes.”

Leviah’s angular
jaw rose in a small grin. He parted his lips, exposing his mighty, ancient
fangs. Marlon flinched back in both fear and excitement. Leviah rose slowly to
his feet, put out a hand and said, “Come here.” His brooding, menacing eyes
worked Marlon’s young mind;
come here, I’ll numb your pain, I’ll comfort you,
they said. A dreamy smile flitted across Marlon’s face as he was drawn by those
kaleidoscope eyes. By that electrifying stare. The icing, the hypnosis, the
pleasant sensation akin to a boat bobbing on a peaceful lake with no sounds
other than the rippling water and the cool breeze. Marlon could feel himself
floating across the floor, ghost-like, straight into the arms of the Father,
the protector, the one who’d offer shelter from this cruel world beneath his
wing of blissful darkness. The one who’d repaint his miserable existence with
sublime venom. His soul ached for it. It had been so long, so
so
long.

He sucked in a
deep breath of anticipation as he drew close enough for the Father to finally
touch him. Leviah placed an ancient claw on Marlon’s shoulder and a jolt of
coldness shivered him. It quickly dissipated, replaced with a sheer rush of
excitement. He closed his eyes, handing his soul over to the Father. He lolled
his head back, exposing his neck, allowing the Father easy entrance. Leviah
grabbed the other shoulder and pulled him in. Marlon gasped. Anticipation rose
in his belly.

The Father
craned his neck back and opened his jowls wide, his gleaming, ivory fangs
readied.

A smile spread across Marlon’s face.
Here
it comes, here it comes, here it—

Leviah brutally lunged. He dug his fangs
into the flesh of Marlon’s throat; they sunk in effortlessly. Hot pain tore
across Marlon’s soul; he screamed.

Leviah clamped his jaws down. A harsh tear
of meat and crack of bone split the previously subdued atmosphere in two.
Leviah growled as he pulled away, taking half of Marlon’s throat with him. He
immediately turned his head to the side and spat the chunk of meat and bone
from his mouth. It hit the tiled floor with a splat. He wiped the blood from
his chin afterwards, licking it off the back of his hand like a child suckling
up remnants of sugar candy.

Marlon staggered backward, his bemused,
bloodshot eyes bulging, his hand shooting up to the big gap where the other
half of his neck used to be. Blood sprayed from the open wound with each beat
of his heart. He stared stupidly at the blood on his hand, his face riddled
with bewilderment.
What happened? What happened?
his confused mind
stammered. He’d been expecting to enjoy a massive hit of venom, to be sent to
the promised land. Instead, he was witnessing his very life spill from his body
as he hurtled towards his impending death. He just had enough time to gasp, for
the black vortex to descend upon his severed mind, before his eyes rolled up,
not in ecstasy, but in shredded agony. The darkness of death then consumed him
completely and his body slumped to the tiles in a bloodied heap.

The other two blood sacks sprang into life,
terror overcoming them. They both turned and ran in fear, hoping to make it to
the elevator and their escape. Leviah pointed a casual finger in their
direction, giving Sammy his cue. Sammy obediently nodded his head. In one fluid
motion, he pulled his Glock from beneath his jacket, aimed, and fired. The loud
report was swiftly followed by a blood sack hitting the deck. The other one
froze in his tracks, paralyzed with fear. He turned his head to the side to be
faced with the muzzle of Sammy’s gun. “Why?” he gasped.

Sammy gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Just
business,” he replied before coldly pulling the trigger. The fanghead’s head
snapped back, then his body dropped alongside his companions.

Sammy replaced his gun and straightened his
jacket.

Leviah picked a small sliver of flesh
caught between his fangs and flicked it away. “Fangheads!” he said, his voice
laced with disdain. He spread his hands out at the mess on his once clean
floor. “And this is why I forbid biting, Sammy. It spreads germs.”

Sammy had an uneasy glance to the side.
“Couldn’t agree more, boss...”

“Tell the others to stop, Sammy. I’ve
warned you before. We have to be careful who we allow to turn.”

“Yes, boss.”

Leviah wiped Marlon’s blood from the corner
of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Drain these peasants of their blood,
bottle it, and have it refrigerated immediately,” he then ordered.

“On it, boss,” Sammy said, before
approaching the nearest body.

Leviah retook his seat, straightened his
cuffs, and ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, and Sammy,” he then said.

Sammy stopped and turned to face him.
“Yeah, boss?”

“Put a unit together. I want that relic
back.”

“No problem, boss. And what about the
Dentist’s daughter?”