13 Tales of the Paranormal Page 15

  “Gotcha, you little bitch. The boss is going to have a field day with you.” The new little pimp vampire taunted in her ear, laughing as he picked up her limp, numb body and placed it into a silver lined body bag. She knew this was not going to end well. She let her eyes close and prayed for the final death.

  ***

  The high pitched cackle roused her from her drug induced coma. Where on earth am I? What has happened? This definitely isn’t the final death, Betula thought to herself. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the loud music and boisterous conversation taking place all around her. Betula blinked several times as she tried to clear her foggy mind. She smelled humans in the distance, sweet succulent humans. She smiled as she thought of her own saying, ‘the sweeter the smell of the human the sweeter the soul’. Betula knew instinctively pure people were near her. Good people that had been brought to their slaughter, she feared. Since she had not fed last night, she was starving, and the hunger was beginning to take control. She knew she would have very little resistance at this point.

  She sat up, shook her head and tried to release the grogginess of her brain. She quickly assessed she was in some sort of silver box in some sort of small room, like an office. She had no way to free herself; she was at the mercy of whoever had put her here. Which begged the question, why was she here, who put her here and where was here?

  She pulled her hands to her forehead and went inside her mind for a moment to evaluate her surroundings with her vampire senses. She could tell, she was in some sort of nightclub, but she was locked in one of the back offices. A wide mixture of people were drinking, mingling and having a good time. They were here under the pretense of an office party. They were mostly accountants and their families. These poor, unsuspecting people, she thought. She also sensed several vampires. None of them seemed familiar. She knew very few vampires. She preferred to walk the nights alone, but she could sense them now.

  “Hello?” She said quietly. She knew she wouldn’t have to speak loudly, since vampires had stellar hearing. She idly wondered why they didn’t have one stationed to watch her, but she figured there was no way she was getting out of this silver lined box on her own. The door creaked open and then slammed.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little princess that tried to kill me last night. How ya doin’? Guess this isn’t exactly how you thought things would turn out, huh, bitch?” The little pimp vampire taunted as he stuck Betula with a silver knife through the silver mesh box.

  She shrieked in pain, bared her fangs and prepared to fight. This shifty little man was not going to get the best of her. She didn’t care if he was vampire or human. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “What did I tell you about taunting our prisoners?” A smooth silky voice questioned from the shadows.

  “Sorry, master, I just couldn’t help myself! This bitch left me for dead two nights ago,” Pimp vampire said, showing his fangs.

  “You are released from duty, Bernie. Now please leave me with our newest guest.” Silky voice yawned at the newest vampire showing his boredom and waved his hand in the air signaling him to leave the room. Bernie, the pimp vampire, headed to the door grumbling under his breath.

  “I can hear you, you insolent fool,” Silky said as he moved toward Betula. “It is almost impossible to find good help these days, my dear. I apologize for your less than desirable accommodations, but I didn’t want to run the risk of you escaping before we had the opportunity to meet and chat first. I’m sure you must be hungry, so please have a bite on me.” Silky snapped his figures and a young boy about the age of 13 stepped into the room.

  “You may not kill him, but you may have a little bite to regain your strength, and then we will discuss your current situation,” Silky offered. The young boy looked adoringly into the stunning vampire’s eyes as he stuck his wrist into Betula’s box. Betula had no choice, she needed her strength. She bit quickly into the boy’s wrist. He flinched briefly, but continued to stare into Silky’s eyes.

  Betula groaned in enjoyment. His blood was delectable. He was obviously pure of heart and he tasted fantastic. She hadn’t had a meal this succulent in over a century. She sighed and released the boy as she heard his heart begin to slow.

  “Well, my, my, you show immense control for someone that didn’t eat last night,” Silky mocked and released the boy, sending him out of the room. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Jonathan,” Silky proclaimed as he let Betula out of her box. Betula stepped out cautiously.

  “Ah, thanks for the bite, Jonathan. I’d say ‘pleased to make you acquaintance’, but I’m not really in the habit of being glad to meet vampires that kidnap me.” Betula squared her shoulders and looked Jonathan in the eyes. She hated to admit to herself that she was completely intrigued by his deep dark eyes and chiseled features. He wore his blond hair short and slicked back.

  “Oh my dear, I hate to think you believed I’ve kidnapped you,” Jonathan said with a wicked smile.

  “Ok, then, I’ll bite. What exactly would you call drugging me and keeping me in a sliver box?” Betula questioned narrowing her eyes at her less than desirable host.

  “Well, my dear, I’m so sorry you see it that way. I needed to speak with you and you are somewhat difficult to track down. Very evasive for a nightwalker, an impressive trait, I must admit. I wonder where you learned to be so elusive,” Jonathan said leadingly. Abigail’s name shot into Betula’s head and her wide eyes made contact with Jonathan’s dark eyes, but Betula said nothing.

  “Hmmm, I didn’t think you’d be forthcoming with the information, but I thought you’d be easier to read,” Jonathan said, putting his hands together and walking around Betula as if trying to reach inside her brain for the answer. Betula could sense the danger that surrounded her, but she put her defenses up and decided to go on the offensive.

  “I think it’s just years of practice. Now, can we please get to why I’m here?” Betula questioned sweetly.

  “Ah yes, I have been watching you for quite some time, my dear. Again, I am intrigued by how you seem to fly completely under the radar. You kill every night, yet not one single law enforcement agency suspects the work of something supernatural, even though you are killing out in the open every single night.” Jonathan’s voice flushed with envy.

  “I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Betula said evenly as she thought about Abigail’s training. Abigail had methodically taught Betula how to stalk her prey and kill without making it look like murder. Of course, it helped that Betula killed the same scum the law enforcement agents wanted to lock up behind bars, but she had to admit, she was somewhat of an expert at making murder look like death by natural causes or a drug over dose. She never left bite marks and she never drained a body of blood. She surmised this vampire now wanted her secrets, and it may cost her life to protect those secrets.

  “Oh, I don’t believe you. I know full well you understand and know what I’m talking about, and you will teach me or I will kill all those innocent people at the party. Yes, my dear, I know you try to protect the pure souls and kill only the damned souls. I figured you learned from your maker, so I sought her out. She wouldn’t help me either, so I killed her, chopped her head right off. It was fun.” Jonathan’s evil eyes gleamed and bore deep into Betula. She gasped and her eyes widened. “Ah, that’s what I thought,” Jonathan gloated.

  “Well, then the secret died with her, because I’m not telling you anything. You will use it to hunt the pure souls, and I’d rather meet the final death than contribute to mass murder.” Betula shrugged her shoulders, closed her eyes tight and waited for death. Jonathan threw his head back and laughed wickedly.

  “My, my, aren’t you feisty?” Jonathan chuckled. “Your maker said you would react this way right before I sucked her blood as she lay dying. You see that’s how I found you. Since I drank her blood, I can track any other vampire that has tasted her blood. You are her last child, so you are my last hope. Once I tracked you
, I set the trap with that stupid little pimp by offering him immortal life. I’ve gone through a great deal of trouble to procure you, so I will not be killing you. I may torture you a lot, but I won’t kill you, so you might as well let me in on the secret,” Jonathan said matter-of-factly as he sighed and sat down next to Betula.

  “Well, then, Jonathan, I see we have just began a battle of wills. May the best vampire win,” Betula said as she smiled serenely, sitting down next to the dashing vampire, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Apparently, we have, my dear. I should have stuck around after taking your human life. I should have never left that loose end lying about for Abigail to swoop in and pick up. I’ll send in more snacks for you as dawn draws near. I want you fully rested and at the top of your game for your torture tomorrow night. And, I’ll send my minions in periodically to make sure you’re not thinking about trying anything stupid. Good luck to you.” Jonathan laughed out loud and glided out of the room.

  “Bernie, get in here and make sure our guest is fed and content before you go out to hunt. She needs to be in top shape for the next phase of her extended stay with us.” Jonathan continued laughing as he closed the door to the room on his way out.

  Betula’s eyes blazed with rage. Jonathan was the one responsible for taking her away from God and the one responsible for the execution of her vampire mother. The moment Bernie walked into the room, Betula pounced. She pinned him to the ground, sunk her fangs into his neck and inhaled his essence before he even knew she was on top of him. She inhaled deeply once she had finished. She had Jonathan’s blood pulsating in her veins now and with his blood came the essence of Abigail. All of a sudden, everything made perfect sense to Betula.

  I know what I have to do, she thought to herself. In fact, it’s a simple plan, but first I have to get rid of Bernie’s body and evidence he hadn’t made it out of the room. I’m an expert of getting rid of bodies and hiding death, after all I’ve been practicing for the last 150 years. She smiled cruelly.

  ***

  Betula yawned, stretched and rolled over. She could sense it was nightfall. She knew Jonathan would be here to begin her torture momentarily. She was not overly concerned. She actually felt stronger than she had in almost 100 years. If she’d known consuming the essence of other vampires had such a remarkable effect, she may have tried it years ago. Last night, she consumed the essence of three new vampires sent in to make sure she wasn’t planning anything stupid. Of course, they also had the some of the blood essence of Jonathan, but they had been more than a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Betula shook her head and grinned at the stupidity of young vampires. She knew she couldn’t really get in the habit of hunting vampires, the target on her back would just be too much, but she’d definitely keep it in mind for a power boost from time to time.

  Betula was pretty sure her new potency had actually come from the essence of her maker, Abigail. Since Jonathan consumed Abigail and Betula consumed some of Jonathan’s blood, she had consumed her own maker, which led to one heck of a power surge. Right now Betula needed to disguise her strength. She needed to appear weak and feeble. If Jonathan smelled her strength, things could take a gruesome turn. She knew he was older and more powerful than she was. She would have to get him in a relaxed, complacent mood, before she could make her move. She camouflaged her vigor to the best of her ability and waited to stalk and kill her prey.

  Jonathan bounced happily into the little room. He loved spending an evening doling out torture. It was truly one of his favorite pastimes. He had silver weapons, pure souls and even a stake, just in case.

  “Good Evening, my dear! I have been looking forward to our date.” The vampire smiled maliciously.

  “Ah, food…please…now…star…ving,” Betula uttered.

  “Ah, yes, all in good time, my dear. I will try the nice way first, which could save you from being tortured. Will you concede? Will you teach me what you know?” Jonathan asked quickly.

  “Screw… you.” Betula weakly stuck up her middle finger. Jonathan roared with laughter.

  “I had hoped you’d say that. Now, on with the torture.” Jonathan clapped his hands together happily and bared his fangs. “Let’s start with the pure souls. Betula, my dear, I know you want to save the purest souls from damnation, but guess what? I’m going to send them to hell right before your eyes.” Jonathan licked his lips and plunged his razor sharp fangs deep into the throat of a young blond boy. He looked directly into Betula’s glazed over eyes as he seized the life of the fragile boy. He cackled crazily as he finished the young boy, tossed him aside and grabbed a tiny brown haired, brown eyed girl.

  Betula closed her eyes, she couldn’t bear to watch. She hated to sacrifice the pure souls, but she knew he needed to be fully engaged in his killing for her plan to work. As Jonathan grabbed his fifth child, Betula centered herself and instinctively knew it was time to act.

  She brought herself to her full height and then some. She hovered in the air, exposed her own fangs, smiled maniacally and attacked Jonathan with everything inside her. She scratched and tore at his flesh. Having been completely caught off guard, he retreated into a defensive fight mode. That did not slow Betula down. Her eyes burned the same color as her fire-engine red hair. She screeched in ecstasy as she felt Jonathan’s essence drain from his body into her own.

  After she sucked every last bit of the dark dying dilapidated soul from his being and her body pulsated with raw power, she made a vow. I vow to hunt and massacre evil supernatural beings for the remainder of my days. The taste left me wanting more…

  The Walk of Initiation

  Roy Hudson

  The Walk of Initiation

  Roy Hudson

  Creeeeak.

  Swallowing the knot in her throat, Natalie stepped back from the stairwell and said, “These stairs don’t sound too safe.”

  The four men standing close by only laughed, whispering innuendos and jokes amongst themselves. She only knew one person in the building; her boyfriend, whom she had begged to let her in. He now stood in a group across the room, talking to a few of his friends about tonight’s “business”, but he had told her to stay by the stairwell. He and his friends knew much of what was to happen in a few minutes, but she was in the dark. She toyed with a few long strands of the brown hair that stuck out from beneath her blue knitted cap as she rolled her bored brown eyes around the room. Her other features were equally common, a fact that was partly responsible for her success as a pickpocket.

  Natalie looked around the room once again, still puzzling over how a building that had once been a library was now host to the gang called Los Dragones. When a larger library had been built in a better neighborhood, some things had been left behind that nobody noticed. In the right corner sat the remains of one bookcase, its middle shelf broken on the right side, causing it to slant diagonally. Stacked against the back wall, beneath the building’s only window, were uncountable cardboard boxes full of ripped paperbacks and water-damage hardbacks. Thick cracks stood out in the floorboards from where rain had leaked in through the roof. The gang excluded, there was nothing in the old library that wasn’t covered up to its last square centimeter in dust and cobwebs.

  The group of people itself was as eclectic as the bookcases that had once filled the room, joining people of all ethnic groups; something that was not at all common in a typical street gang. But Los Dragones was not a typical street gang. It had been started by a pusher intelligent enough to know that any hood that can produce cash is a good one. So he came up with an idea and went with it. A potent hallucinogenic concoction he called Dragon powder, claiming that “this shit’ll have you breathing smoke.” After achieving success on his own, he expanded, bringing his brother into the business. At first it had just been Lucian and Juan San Luca, and then friends agreed to work for them, and then friends of friends. Before long, Los Dragones had become thirty strong, hosting the best pushers and thieves in Atlanta. However, with power comes opposition, and when there
’s opposition, lines must be drawn.

  About ten feet away from where the girl stood, two young men stood whispering. The younger was a slim, short Caucasian boy of seventeen years; he was sweating and moving with quick jerks. He took off his backwards black cap and then readjusted it. “I don’t think I can stand another initiation, man.”

  The other, a tall African-American nearing twenty-five, was much calmer. The fluorescent lights reflected off of his clean-shaven head and the black leather of his trench coat. He shook his head, lighting a cigarette. “Relax, Jordan. Want a smoke?”

  Jordan shook his head.

  “Anyway,” his friend said, “you know we need initiations. Juan’s gotten paranoid lately.”