Prey and Predator Ch.31

Part XXXI: Nightson


Exhaustion. Oh, lord. What devil possessed me into thinking I could sleep for a few hours at night and stay up an entire day, plus the night that followed? And without feeding on a drop of human blood! I’d gotten home and Bristol had to practically force-feed me a bag of donor’s blood just to get me up the stairs since he still had a hip injury to worry about and couldn’t carry me up as he could 50 years ago. I fell into my coffin and truly felt like I had died. I believe anyone who would have seen me tucked into my coffin so snugly in such a deep sleep would not have dreamed of questioning my death.  I slept the rest of the night as well as the next day, entirely submerged in a dreamless sleep.

When I awoke next morning, Ian had yet to be heard from. I had such mixed feelings about that fact. I was relieved and felt dreadful for it. I was glad to have a moment of peace around my home and only too delighted of not finding any corpses lying around the manor, particularly in my casket. At the same time, I was sick to my stomach with fear that borderlined panic.

I tried his cellphone 126 times counted. On my last attempt, some unknown bloke picked up. He didn’t know Ian’s name but he was only too glad to describe that scrawny half-bred slut he’d fucked for hours ‘til he broke’ the other night. It took all my strength not to smash the phone to the floor. I’d felt a strong desire to do the impossible and strangle the vampiric scum through the line.  

Bristol spent about an hour trying to calm me. I was shaking with ill-restrained rage and he knew exactly how dangerous it was for him to be around me in such a state, still he stayed and soothed me, preparing me some blood tea with calming herbs too strong for mortals and whatnot. He kept saying that Ian was fine, that bastard had been lying and Ian was only playing a cruel, vengeful joke on me. That was a very probable scenario, knowing Ian, but I had to be sure. I’d kill whoever laid a hand on him. I would find them…

After I had gathered my wits once more, I dressed in my usual attire and took my leave, promising Bristol I would not do anything too irrational. I had to at least have a clue where the brat was or I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my bloody evening. I wasn’t at my strongest, but I was not weak, I could crush a few throats if I put my energy to it.  

Once I found something, anything, that lead me to believe Ian was only being a spiteful little twat, I would visit Jace. I had been neglecting my vehicles recently, and would continue to do so since it was much easier to blend in on foot than in one of my extravagant automobiles. I visited our mutual friend, Gale Sanctum, on 21st street Eastern District.

Gale was a strange vampire. He was a great catch, but he repulsed me a bit. Most vampires took the entire “being born into darkness” thing as a joke and only followed the clichés for tradition, not actually believing one word of the superstitious nonsense. Not Gale. Gale was as devoted to The Devil as any mortal Christian was to their God. He fervently studied The Occult and the Dark Arts, often pulling off stunts that frightened me, if I am honest. Spells that actually worked, Sacrificial Rituals to invoke spirits, hallucinogenic substances that made him see visions… He was a ridiculously strong vampire for his age.  

He knew I was coming before I reached his place, opening the door just before I knocked. Gale was tall, taller than I was, and horrendously thin. He had jet-black hair streaked neon-green and gleaming red eyes ringed the same glowing color of his hair. His eyes were always bloodshot and twitchy and he always had a smirk on his leering face.

“Good evening, Fox-Face. You look particularly stoned tonight.” I greeted.

Indeed, he looked different. He wasn’t smiling… in fact, he looked as if he’d just seen a ghoul. (or a pink unicorn since ghouls really didn’t faze him) His face was drawn, lips pale, make-up in dried drips over his cheeks as if he’d been crying.

Without a word, he grabbed my wrist in his crushing his grip, his long fingernails digging into my flesh, and pulled me down into his underground den.

“Gale… For Christ’s sake!”

“You will not mention the name of The Lord’s sworn enemy in this home.” He hissed at me, his raspy voice sending a chill down my spine.

His berating on that matter was completely normal, but his snarling tone was not. Something was terribly wrong with him. He kept jerking my arm as we descended, as if I were falling behind. His frame was trembling in a way that was surely alarming. We finally arrived at his rat’s hole. The place smelled off a strange mix of spices and decay, as always. Disturbing items and trinkets adorned the macabre lodgings. We stood in the middle of what I assumed was his living room, but he still would not release my wrist. I tried prodding at his mind, knowing penetrating it would be difficult.

He suddenly froze and turned to face me with an expression of maddened rage. “Don’t you fucking DARE, man! You keep your little mind tricks to yourself!” He growled, his nails breaking through my skin.

I flinched at the slight pain, trying to pull free from his claw-like hand. “What the devil is going on, Sanctum? Why are you being like this? What did you do?!” I demanded.

He suddenly released my arm, throwing his up in the air. “You reek of mortal! You are the sickest, most irresponsible bastard on hell and earth, you demon! Gale is disgusted!” He ranted, pacing frantically over the blood-stained carpet. Gale had a habit of referring to himself in third-person when he was harboring strong emotions.

“What did you DO?!” I yelled, springing forward to clutch the collar of his shirt.

He gave a demented laugh, his twitching eyes focusing in mine. “Nothing! Gale did nothing at all! Ian is fine, by the way… Well, not fine, but safe. You needn’t worry about him, old friend!” He rambled frenziedly.

I gave him a glare, almost lifting him from the ground, his stiff shirt wrinkling under my grip. “Where is Ian?” I hissed.

“Well, Gale is in no way able to deduce that information… without payment.”

“Damn it, Gale!” I barked, giving him a rough shake.

I had a lot of rage built up inside me. It would not be pleasant for Gale were I to release it on him. He knew this, of course.

“Alright, alright! Give old Fox-Face a second!” He exclaimed, throwing up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

He closed his eyes and muttered some sort of hymn in a language I could not understand. I did not miss one of the lit candles going out without any seeming prompt as a chill went up my spine. A hoarse breath left him before he opened his crazed eyes to look at me once more.

“He is… like Gale said, safe. Dreading life, but alas, safe… in the arms of a seraphim… It’s quite repulsive, really.” He tried to soothe. “But, you needn’t worry about him! Nightson, you blinded fool! You should worry about yourself!” He added hastily.

…What? Alright, so Gale was certifiably senile, but the guy did have some sort of… talent, contact, whatever it was. Something that allowed him to SEE. If I had learned anything over the half-century I had known him for, it was to listen to his wild stories once in a while as they sometimes, SOMETIMES, were worth the time. I, however, very much doubted I, The Vampire Nightson, could be in any sort of danger.

I lowered him back to the floor and released his shirt. “What do you mean, mate?”

His grin grew. “You should be looking out for yourself, friend… and your mortal bonnie-lass. Or is it lad?” He mused.

My heart leapt to my throat. Jace… Had I put Jace in harm’s way? I didn’t wait for any more explanations, I had to get to my human lover immediately. I dashed up the stairs in a second, leaving a bewildered Gale behind.

“Hey!!! Nightson, don’t! Friend, it isn’t safe!” I heard his shrill voice.

He leapt behind me, slamming the door I was opening shut. He was panicking once more. I elbowed him hard in the ribs and bolted out of the place. Gale skidded to a stop at his doorframe, something I found quite strange. I turned to find him visibly struggling, his mouth pulled into a grimace, exposing his double set of fangs. He looked as if he were afraid to step outside. He connected his gaze with me.

“A great evil is coming your way! Evil Gale cannot control! Nightson, please! Gale begs you not to go! You must stay with Gale so he and his master can protect you! Nightson, PLEASE!!!” He bawled, nails digging into the iron frame, making it screech.

I scoffed. “I don’t need your wretched Beelzebub’s protection. Thanks for the warning, Fox-Face!” I gave him a wave before dashing away.

Goodness. I was bloody dying. The exertion I was forcing on myself was taking a terrible toll on my body as I hadn’t fed in a while, but it couldn’t be helped. I had to move at top speed to reach Jace as quickly as possible. For all I knew, this could all be some more of Gale’s demented shenanigans, but I had to be sure. Jace was such a fragile thing… The thought of losing him made my throat knot.

In my frenzy, I failed to notice the eminent threat until something whistled through the air and struck my neck. The impact made me stumble over my own feet, but the searing, burning pain in my throat forced me to my knees as I desperately dug my fingers into my wound until I touched the intrusion. The contact burned my fingers but I paid no mind and pulled it out, then threw it to the ground as well as a handful of my blood.

…Silver dart? Fuck!

The clicking of a gun reached my ears and I looked up to find the barrel of a baptized revolver aimed at my face.

…Fuck.

Oh, I knew this slayer. This big-chested brunette with the purple eyes and the scar over her lip… Cornelia, named after her great-grandfather, Van Helsing. I couldn’t help but laugh.

The gun nudge closer, making me respectively jerk away, but a foot on the small of my back threw my forwards, landing me on the dirt.

“What’s so funny, parasite?!” A deep male voice snapped behind me.

I didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, nothing, only that the worst Slayer in the Van Helsing linage has the audacity of pointing a gun at ME.”

The foot dug into my back, causing no pain. This young Slayer that thought he was so tough had no knowledge of the History of the Van Helsing family – he just knew they were important. Simple-minded bastard. Cornelia Van Helsing was an ultimate failure in the Vampire-Hunter society and a disgrace to her family, having twice as many near-death calls at the hands of vampires than vampiric heads mounted on her wall. She’d come after me after I’d broken into the Sydney Research Facility. Of course, she’d lost track of me within days, but not before the 12-year-old half-breed Ian Steinhart bashed her skull against a marble wall… Oh, god! She was pathetic!

“Yes, you… The Great One, Lucifer’s Angel, The Blue Devil, The Heart-Hunter…” She spoke stoically before letting out a chuckle. “Or, my favorite, the small-town London boy-whore, Galic Nightson…”

This made me snarl.

“You’ve been a pain in the ass to find. Murder counts… innumerable. Human interaction counts, also innumerable. Theft, Fraud, Kidnapping, Assault, Impersonating a Slayer, Breaking into a covert government facility and stealing a unique specimen… needless to say, you are under arrest.” She went on.

Now, the crime should have been failing to see a Slayer in their ranks had red-eyes, white skin, fangs and pointed ears, not to mention the obvious change in atmosphere around them.

“I’m afraid I have to politely decline, Madam.” And with that I’d thrown the bloke trying to hold me down over my shoulder and pushed him on her before making an attempt at an escape.

If course, she’d brought back-up. Soon, I was being charged with silver daggers and stakes, being shot at with silver bullets, rained on by garlic juice. I don’t know how many there were and I cannot say how many necks I snapped in less than five minutes. I was no match for any of them, but their number was overwhelming. These Slayers were not completely useless, no. They managed to land multiple hits. My skin was burning with the acidic garlic juice and I had been shot in my left bicep, rendering my domineering arm useless. I was snarling, snapping at them as I used my inhuman strength and speed to my favor. To them it was probably impossible to believe I was a being with emotions just like they were, that I had a lovely red-headed boy to protect, an old butler to please, or a broken child  to find. I had no friends, no loved ones, no thoughts or ambitions… I was just some feral demon they had to exterminate.

I was by then soiled in blood, mine or these mortal assailants’ I could no longer tell. My fangs were extended and the taste of garnet was at my lips but not from feeding. I crushed another young Slayer in my clawed hands, just about to make my escape when I felt a sudden agonizing ache in my torso. A scream tried to escape my throat, but I was unable to make sound. Slowly, I looked down to find a silver-tipped stake sticking out of my chest. My knees gave, and I pummeled to the cobblestone road, wheezing and coughing, violently shaking.

OH GOD, OH ZEUS, ODIN’S BEARD! I’d take that wretched Beelzebub’s protection now! I’d been staked… How in heaven and hell had I been staked?! Never in all my life had I been impaled by a vampire’s most dreaded of weapons. To me, and any creature of the night, a stake through the heart meant sure death… and I could feel it… the Grim Reaper puffing his icy breath against my neck… I felt so cold… I could feel the coolness of my body becoming a deathly chill as my blood seeped out of my wounds, soaking through my clothes steadily and oozing onto the pavement bellow as I weakly attempted to rise, only to smack against the ground each time.

I coughed and hacked, throwing up heaps of my own crimson plasma. My vision was blurring… Oh Lord, I couldn’t die like this… and certainly not at the hands of THIS WENCH. Should’ve listened to Gale… was this even what that crazy fuck had meant?

The stake could not have pierced my heart, I would be dead… but it had destroyed my left lung entirely and crushed my ribcage, I was sure. Not even I could suffice this… was I dying? No!!! I would NOT die like this! So shamefully… so abruptly…

‘Damn it all, Gale! Come help me you bloody coward!’ ‘Jace… what about Jace?! He’s still in danger!’ ‘God!’ ‘Satan!’

Were these tears in my eyes? Oh, that was shocking… Ah, nevermind… just tears of pain and effort…

“I was told to apprehend, not terminate… But you got hostile. What a pity…” I heard the Slayer’s mocking voice as I heard the cock of her gun again. The young man from before was with her as well as a couple others who had survived me.

The gun went off in a sudden blurry mess of emotions, thoughts, and commands. ‘Move! ...Move! MOVE!!! OUT OF THE WAY, NIGHTSON!!! DO SOMETHING!!!’ A sonic boom suddenly filled my ears and I snapped my eyes open, only to see the glistening silver bullet hovering in front of me for a split second before it was repelled as well as the Slayers, the ground they stood on, and even a few cars. Lamp-posts bent in the opposite direction and a tree was ripped from its roots. My attackers lay on a pile at the very end of the street, groaning in pain if not unconscious when it was over.

I’d never had much control over my telekinetic abilities and never had I managed a push of such magnitude. I could feel the drainage coming… I would lose all my remaining strength after such a powerful spectacle and I knew if I passed out HERE I would never wake again. The adrenaline rush was strong enough to make me feebly rise to my feet and sprint away, ignoring the stabbing pain in my entire body, scrambling back into a run whenever I would hit the pavement as my muscles went on momentary strike.

I did not think of where I was going, I just knew I needed to keep the Slayers away from my immortal friends and away from my lair. A clinic was the first place they would look, so that was a no… I just let my shaking legs carry me where they saw fit… and that, OF COURSE, happened to be Jace’s apartment. Scaling the wall was a mission, opening the window an even bigger one. Once I finally managed to open it, I crashed into his living room. Was he even home? Unlikely. It was so dark… or maybe I’d just lost my vision… I collapsed on the carpet, not being able to take the strain anymore and passed out…