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Vorcla's Quest 2: Resurrection (Four)
The music was even louder than Vorcla had expected. From the small corner couch their party had shanghaied he watched as Kara and Bri danced with each other, reveling in their freedom, youth, and limberness. Their bodies swayed dangerously, hands trod towards regions that any passing bystander may have considered indecent. To he and Chris, their actions were nothing short of normal. His fellow detainee sulked over the brim of his stout and watched uninterested in the possibly obscene actions the girls demoted themselves too.
Vorcla’s own attention was not drawn so much to the girls, but rather to a younger couple who had been dancing halfway across the floor. Their skin was pale, faces sunken, yet beautiful all at the same time. He had smelt them the moment he came in, but was unsure of just what to make of the two. The kids hardly looked as if they were legal, and the fact that they had avoided being an obvious eye target from any possible figure of authority only confirmed Vorcla’s suspicions. They were vampires.
He thought little of the fact, though the natural hostility welling in the pit of his stomach spoke more than his conscience on the matter. They were not making trouble, and no inherent rule said that they would. Perhaps the notion that they had to have snuck in bothered him slightly, but he forced himself to accept the fact that rules were made to be broken.
The light scheme broke into a series of fast paced strobes, much to the delight of the dancing crowd. Dylan squeezed his eyes shut and took another sip of beer. The alternating lights screwed too much with his over-developed optic nerve. He had no idea how Kara was tolerating it.
“You okay?” Chris shouted above the blaring music.
“Uh huh,” Dylan sighed. He felt something squeeze his hand and forced open his eyes slightly. Kara was standing above him, her hair matted with sweat and breath heavy. “What do you want?”
“Come dance with me.”
“No thank you,” he shook his head. She sat down in his lap and put her forehead to his. “What are you doing?”
“Embarrassing you to the point where you just give up and come out on the floor,” she smiled at him wickedly. He could feel his cheeks blushing, but was rather fond of how the quickly flashing lights masked the fact. Suddenly they stopped and the song turned to a more mellow beat.
“It’s official. The world conspires against me.”
“C’mon,” she pulled on the collar of his jacket. “One good spin around the dance floor and we can go. Who knows, perhaps you may like it.”
Looking into her slightly dilated eyes, he shook his head but willingly began to rise. Bri let out a low whistle as the two moved out into the crowd.
“Now how come you won’t do that with me?” she asked, slapping Chris on the shoulder lightly.
“Because we’re as good as married and I have no reason to continue pleasing your silly whims,” he muttered and finished his stout of beer.
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself,” she pinched his cheek then took away his empty glass. “I’m going to go get you another beer and a bottle of water, and then you’re dancing with me. No excuses.”
He smiled up at her as she walked away, worming her way across the floor.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Vorcla looked down at Kara when she finally stopped pushing through the crowd.
“Oh, please,” she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ve seen pictures of you from your rocker days. Show me how they moved back in eighty nine.”
“You know,” he chuckled as she swayed back and forth to the beat, “I wouldn’t be surprised if something like this led to your conception back in eighty nine.”
“Don’t ruin this for me,” she pressed her fingers to his lips. He finally succumbed to the motion of her hips and went along with the beat. He stared down at her for the longest time, and she looked back, her eyes full of curiosity and play. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in her embrace in a long time, and he was fairly certain she hadn’t been this warm either. The next song was even slower, and she allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder as they rocked back and forth. He loved the warmth of her snuggled against his beating chest, and rested his chin atop her head.
Across the floor Robert and Lindsay pushed their way out of the slowly moving crowd, managing to make it to the high bar table they had stacked their things at.
“I’m so glad we came,” Lindsay laughed, wiping the beats of sweat off of her brow. “God, I’m gross.”
“Let’s get something to drink,” Robert nodded towards the bar. They waitress had never returned. They pushed through the casual stander-bys, clubbers who considered themselves too sophisticated to dance and rather lurked in the shadows sipping their drinks and talking about nothing important. Coming down a small set of stairs Lindsay stopped. “What is it?”
“Robbie,” she raised a pointed finger towards the bar. A short woman with flaming red streaked hair leaned over the lighted counter, yelling at the top of her lungs so as to be heard by the bar keep. “It’s her.”
Robert squinted as he focused in on the target. He blinked a few times in shock. Lindsay was right, it was her. There, in the tattooed flesh. The mere sight of her triggered something in his mind, and he looked to Lindsay. She shared the same look. It was not an emotion of fear but rather an automatic one of devotion. She nodded, and the two continued to make their way towards the counter.
“Hello,” Robert leaned in, his voice a bit shaky as he came up to the bar. Bri nodded casually with a smile, still swaying to the music.
“Hi.”
“I think we know each other,” Lindsay shouted above the music. Bri did a double take between the two.
“We?” she looked at their faces again and honestly didn’t recognize them. “I don’t think so. I’m not exactly from around here.”
Across the club Dylan watched the scene unfold uneasily. He strived to listen to their conversation but the overwhelming pulsation from the surrounding speakers drowned out their voices. The music had picked up again, loud, fast, and hard. He glanced around for Chris and saw that he was already making his way towards the bar. Kara looked up at him when his hands stopped moving with her hips.
“What is it?” she turned around, sensing his nervousness.
“Vampires.”
“What? Where?”
They stopped dancing all together. He led her towards the bar by the hand, weaving in and out of the crowd of reckless dancers.
“Surely you remember?” Robert put his hand on Bri’s arm.
“Look, I’ve done a lot of stupid crap in my life but I’m fairly certain I never had a drunken threesome with the two of you. You hardly look like you’re seventeen. Please let go.”
“Mistress!” Lindsay pleaded, grasping her other arm tightly.
Bri’s face fell in horror. “What did you just call me?”
“Hey punk,” Chris laid a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “She said ‘please’.”
“Fuck off,” Robert snarled.
“Wrong answer,” Chris shook his head and without a moment’s hesitation whammed his clenched knuckles into Robert’s jaw.
“Chris!” Bri screamed, horrified as Robert recovered quickly from the blow and then lunched at his attacker.
“Bri!” Vorcla grabbed her hand and thrust her aside to Kara. “Get out of here, now!”
“Mistress!” Lindsay hissed and took off after the girls, who hadn’t needed Vorcla’s command to run. Kara would be able to handle her. He watched the two men tumble across the floor, fists flying. A small crowd had gathered around to watch the brawl and out of the corner of his eye, Vorcla could see the club owner and two armed thugs making their way towards the fight.
He wormed his way through the mob, pushing others aside. “Chris!” he shouted, hoping to get his attention before one of the security thugs did. Deciding it was best to avoid a trip to the precinct tonight, Vorcla pulled Chris out of the skirmish by the back of his collar and shoved Robert down when he tried to go for another swing. Pushing Chris through the crowd, they broke into an all out run as soon as they were out of the club. One of the two overly muscular men followed them for two city blocks, and then lost their tracks as they rounded a corner.
The two stopped when they could no longer hear his footsteps, and panting, leaned against the alley wall. Vorcla took a few deep breaths and quickly regained control. Chris watched as he started pacing, running a nervous hand through his blonde hair. “How do you do it?”
“We’ve got to find the girls,” Vorcla moved to the mouth of the alley, his boots splashing through the oily city puddles. “Chris, they’re vamps.”
Pale dread filled Chris’ cheeks and he soon found himself fully capable of sprinting the six city blocks back in the opposite direction to where the car was parked. They found Bri sitting alone inside, the doors locked, her faced buried in her knees. Chris knocked lightly on the window and she jumped, startled at the sound. Quickly she unlocked the door and fell into his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked, holding her tight. She shook in his arms but managed to choke out a yes.
Vorcla searched the parking lot. The Ducati was overturned, their helmets scattered half way across the pavement. Evidence of a struggle wracked numb fear in the back of his mind. City traffic numbed his ability to hear anything out of the norm. “Where’s Kara?”
A groan of pure pain and agony echoed through the parking lot. Bri pointed in the direction of the small back alley from whence it came, but Vorcla was already running towards the chasm. A figure, hunched over a strewn pile of rummaged garbage cans screamed miserably as it convulsed in earth shattering pain. Vorcla patiently waited for Kara to finish her Change before offering help. His eyes trailed over to the limp form of the girl, lifeless on the ground. He squinted and drew nearer.
She was still dressed. The vampiress hadn’t transformed into a bat creature at all, and yet Kara looked as if she had just been hit by an eighteen wheeler. He stared at the object protruding from her chest and carefully withdrew it. The spiked heel of a stiletto sleekly slithered out of her torso. He stared at the blood covered heel in shock and then realized that it was coated in a cork finish. The girl had, by all stretches of technicality, been staked. Kara’s sputtering tore his attention away from her corpse. She hacked up a bit of blood, then clutching her sides rolled over.
“What the hell was that?”
“Are you alright?” he kneeled beside her, removing his coat and covering her naked form.
“A couple of broken ribs,” she choked through gritted teeth and wrenched as the bones began to mend themselves. “I’ll be alright in a minute.”
“Take your time,” he cautioned her. “No need to rush.”
He almost regretted the suggestion as he watched Kara’s ribcage take on a new form while it healed. Each little misplaced bone cracked back into place, small mounds of new bone pushed through the skin before retreating back into their rightful place. Kara’s face was nothing more than pathetic, and as one bone slithered back into her body from its original point of protrusion outside of the flesh, Vorcla worried if she could retain consciousness.
Her breathing was heavy when the healing was done, but she managed to sit up and recline against one of the fallen trashcans, putting on Vorcla’s leather riding jacket. “She didn’t even have to Change.”
Vorcla looked over at the girl and closed his eyes. Bri’s memories ripped through the back of his head. The girl looked identical to how she had five years ago when Bri turned her in the dark black woods. Her name was Lindsay, the boy was Robert, Robbie affectionately. Bri had tortured them mercilessly while under Morella’s trance; mocked, raped, and teased until she eventually devoured the two. After Lindsay lay pale as snow on the leaf litter floor, Bri broke from her trance, and in a fleeting moment of human compassion, buried the two together.
Vorcla knew exactly why she had been so strong. Recent underground paranormal research had proven that vampire venom was mutating. As the species’ numbers decreased, hunted for centuries by paranoid mortals and all other supernatural beings, their need to survive had forced their venom’s chemical compounds to blend as if it were blood. Bri’s blood was that of Morella’s, her venom much the same. When Bri bit Robert and Lindsay all those years ago, she had not only passed on her venom, or Morella’s venom, but worse. The teenagers were hybrids of the two frighteningly powerful vampiresses. Given Bri’s free will and stubbornness and Morella’s power and evil, the combination was far from good news. The fact that Lindsay had not even had to change in order to bludgeon Kara had been a sheer testament to her potential.
He sat beside Kara and she rolled her head on to his shoulder. He explained all he knew and his theory of Lindsay’s strength to her. She nodded in understanding but then stopped. “There’s a community of underground paranormal researchers?”
“And doctors, and lawyers, and professors,” he informed her, nodding his head as he played with her hair. She sat up and looked at him almost startled by the news. “Surely you didn’t think that vampires and werewolves are so rare as to not have their own community?”
“I did, actually,” Kara nodded, almost more blown away by the news as she had been by the struggle with Lindsay. “I mean, it’s not exactly as if you hear about a mother giving birth to three hairy wolf cubs in a public hospital. I just figured that there were so few of you that you remained independent.”
“There are many, Kara. Larger cities have whole ghettos of clans and packs. They are ostracized from society but make it on their own. Very few actually integrate fully into the mortal world.”
Kara nodded, wanting to ask why he had. There were many things about his past that Dylan had never shared with her. She had always figured he would open up when he was ready, but ready never came. The sound of an entire society of people just like them was almost comforting to her. The silence set in and both found themselves staring at Lindsay’s body. Dylan lifted the bloody shoe in front of Kara’s face and smiled. “You did well, honey.”
“Doing well wouldn’t have killed her.”
“You did what you had to.”
They sat in silence for yet another moment and finally Kara pushed herself up off the ground to her feet. “Let’s go,” she looked towards Lindsay’s corpse and then to the mouth of the alley. “The last thing we want is an angsty teenage male vampire returning and Bri and Chris to be sitting ducks. She’s only got one shoe left you know…”
Vorcla almost laughed when he remembered that Bri had been the one wearing corkboard heels. The girl was just too good to be true some days. He managed a face of solemnity and picked up Lindsay’s body, following Kara out of the alley. Chris and Bri gulped when they saw the corpse but without hesitation they opened the trunk of their car. Vorcla laid her body down gently.
“We’ll dispose of her properly back home in the woods. Kara, ride with Bri and Chris, I’ll drive the Ducati back.”
The sound of interloping footsteps and pounding breath jerked their attention away from leaving. They turned their heads to see Robert staring at Lindsay’s limp body in the back of the car, dumbly looking at her lifeless form. He saw the bloodied shoe hanging in Kara’s hand’s and pointed a threatening finger in their direction. “You’ll pay for this, you bastards!”
“Robert, wait!” Vorcla shouted then took off after him. Kara, Bri, and Chris looked at each other. Kara placed her arms on the hood of the car and then buried her face in them.
“What’s wrong?” Bri patted her back, concerned.
Kara reached into the pocket of Vorcla’s jacket and dangled the keys to the Ducati above her head. Chris and Bri exchanged glances and then finally Kara groaned, pulling her face out of the crook of her arms. “I’m going to need her dress and your other shoe, Bri.”
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Vorcla was gaining on the boy. They were almost two miles outside of the city and going as hard as they could. He was hoping that the boy would merely trip and continued to wonder why he was yet to change into the bat monster. Something reassuring popped into his head. Perhaps he just didn’t know how.
“Robert!” he shouted, choking hard on his breath. “She’s not gone yet, we can still work things out!”
The reasoning had no affect on the teenage boy. The expensive lights of the downtown shopping district had begun to turn to sleazy neon. Every corner seemed to boast a different strip tease or gentleman’s club, the occasional pornography shop added in for variety. Prostitutes stood under street lamps, cat calling at the two as they continued to run down the street.
Robert turned down a back alley and Vorcla thought he may just have had him cornered. That was until the boy took a surprising leap over the metal fence in the middle of passage and continued going. Vorcla climbed it as fast he could, but had completely lost sight of the boy at the mouth of the alleyway. He looked left and right when he reached the street and heard the roar of a train coming from the left. He ripped down the street as fast as he could, stumbling out on to the tracks.
He could just see the taillights of the engine leaving the station. Standing on the back platform of the train, Robert watched as Vorcla did a double take in each direction, and then called out to him in the darkness. “Robert! Its not over!”
He didn’t care what the man had to say; or rather he didn’t believe it. Shaking his head, he opened the door to the caboose, and went inside.
“Crap,” Vorcla shook his head. Carefully he walked across the tracks to the loading platform and pulled himself up to sit on the concrete. With his feet dangling above the tracks and rocky gravel he rested his head in his hands. He leaned back and took in deep breaths. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, his heart pounded in his chest. For the first time in his life he actually felt thirty-four.
He pulled himself to his feet and walked back through the main lobby of the train depot. Looking up at the flipping letters on the schedule he saw that the last train to leave through Platform G was headed to London. Assuming Robert stayed on the locomotive, he’d be there by evening tomorrow. It as too perfect, the boy would be able to avoid sunshine easily, and be free to roam the city as a menace.
“Jesus Chris!” a voice screamed behind Vorcla. He turned around and saw Kara walking away from the hunched over man, shaking out her fist as he clenched his bleeding nose.
She spotted Vorcla and quickly jogged over, the sound of her heels clacking on the concrete floor echoing throughout the station. “Where is he?”
“Hitched a ride,” Vorcla pointed up to the schedule. Kara nodded and looked back to him.
“Are you okay?”
“Better than he is,” he motioned towards her victim. “What did he do to you?”
“‘Accidentally’ grabbed my ass.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I tried reading for you, you didn’t respond, so I just…” She trailed off. He didn’t doubt that he had been unable to sense her poking around his mind. She began to look around the station nervously. “The Ducati’s out front. Let’s go before the sleazoid decides to call security.”
Vorcla was more than happy to oblige. They hopped on the bike and roared out of the city, a trail of fiery dust in their wake.
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Let's play carpenter. First we get hammered and then I nail you.
Last edited by 'Ginnis; 06-06-2008 at 07:51 AM.
Reason: Kara and Rick can't count!
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