Live to Rise
Chapter 8: I Want to do Bad Things to You
Sherlock woke up when he felt a cup of lukewarm water strike his face. Even before he opened his eyes he could tell he was in a chair with his wrists bound to the arms of the seat by rope and his ankles were equally bound. He heard a few chuckles and swearing and next to him was sobbing.
"For Christ's sake, J.T., you didn't have to hit him that hard," Monica said as she glared at a man dressed in male designer jeans and a dark shirt. It was hard to tell everyone's appearance in the dimly lit room. He could at least see there were six others besides Monica and J.T.
"You didn't warn us that you baited a Hunter," J.T. said.
"How the hell could I know?" Monica asked as she threw up her hands. "He seemed like some ordinary guy." She walked over to him. "Besides he was able to fight despite being so shit faced and if he faked getting drunk well that is pretty darn clever."
"You just want him because of his face," another man said. He was Hispanic and had a lip ring. He wore a black shirt with white text Keep Calm and Chive On.
"Why did Trevor bring in the girl?" Monica pointed to Sherlock's right. Her crimson painted nail indicated the young sobbing woman with blond hair in a messy braid who was also tied to a chair in the same manner as Sherlock.
"I think we should feast on him, now," another woman said. She was tall and black and wore a leather jacket. "Get some payback for what he did to the others."
"No," Monica said as she brushed her fingers against Sherlock's face. "I do have to admit I did fall for these gorgeous cheekbones and such kissable lips and these pretty ginger curls." She ran her fingers through his hair. "He has such a deep voice and look at these hands and feet. You know what they say about men with those features." She ran her fingers down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt along the way before brushed it against the inseam along his thigh.
"If you think I will sleep with you then you are greatly mistaken," Sherlock told her as he tried to keep his legs from moving.
"What the," Monica said and stepped back.
"I thought he was from the south," a different woman said. She had had long shiny fingernails and short hair. She was Trisha, one of the missing."You baited a Brit."
"Well, Bobby which one is real," Monica said. "The accent from the bar or here?"
"You have changed your hairstyle," Sherlock said. "You pulled half of it in a ponytail. You usually wear all of it up but early you had it all loose and by the citrus like scent of your hair I can tell you favor the Aussie brand of shampoo. You also have adjusted the top of your dress to reveal more cleavage in hopes to attract me, thinking that I am only interested in women for their décolletage."
"Way to fail," J.T. laughed.
"And you, J.T. are trying to pass yourself off as someone with good taste, or at least someone with money," Sherlock continued as his eyes have adjusted to the weak light. "Those blue jeans cost at least sixty dollars and are from a department store, the silk shirt at least forty. The haircut cost about thirty and you wanted to keep those ridiculous sideburns meaning you want to have a bit of a rich cowboy look." He hunched down as far as he could. "Ah yes ninety dollar cowboy boots and those are not new but have quite the luster. You take about an hour to polish them twice a week."
"The hell?" J.T. asked and pointed at him.
"He's got your number, J.T.," Another man laughed. It was Caleb.
"How the hell did you do that?" J.T. demanded.
"A learned skill," Sherlock told him as he looked over to the other prisoner. "Were you the one to kidnap this under-drinking-age Sorority girl?"
"How did you know?" Monica asked.
"It's simple. There is a lack of any scent of alcohol on her as there is a lack of scent of beer, or wine cooler, or any other drink. The only thing she was drinking tonight was either water or a soft drink. There is also the stamp on her left hand that says she is underage. She is wearing a necklace with the letters indicating Phi Sigma Sigma."
"You see," Monica said in triumph as she turned around to face the others. "He's smart. You know what I just insulted him with that. Bobby here is a genius."
"We could use a genius," Caleb said.
"He could fill our British quota," Trisha said.
"We don't have a British quota," The man with the lip ring said.
"Well we do now, Hector," Monica said. "Trevor, come on and claim yours."
"Gladly," a tall and lanky man in jeans and a letterman said as he walked over to the college student. "Time to get a new taste on life." He opened his mouth as his sharp teeth slid out and bit into his wrist. He grabbed the girl by the back of her hair and shoved his bleeding wrist into her mouth.
"Trevor doesn't know how to treat a lady," Monica said. "Or a lover, but I doubt he had one, at least in a while." She bit into her wrist before she sucked in her own blood.
Sherlock felt himself freeze with panic. He had hoped that if he had kept them talking it would give Sam enough time, but apparently the talk was over and Sherlock knew from how long it took for the others to bring him to the location and how far he was from the bar it would take Sam four and half more minutes to reach the cabin.
Sherlock braced himself and closed his eyes when Monica pressed her lips against his. He tried to keep his mouth closed, but her fingers pried it open and kept it open long enough for her to spit the blood into his mouth, followed by her tongue.
"That is the right way to do it," Monica said as she stepped back.
Sherlock spat the blood out and continued to spit with the hope he got everything out. He felt sick and tired and weak. A new fear gripped him when he realized he wasn't able to get it all out and the transformation had begun. He tried to stay awake but drifted off only to snap up his head after what could have only been a few minutes.
"So what are we going to do with James Bond?" Caleb asked.
"I still can't believe we turned him," the black woman said. "Should have thrown him in the cage with the rest of the food at least."
"He is a Hunter, Monica," J.T said. "He aint just going to help us bait."
"I think turning him is a better punishment than just killing him," Caleb said. "We can't be the first to turn a Hunter into one of us."
"Fine," the black woman said as she threw up her hands. "We keep him locked up and starve him. He's practically immortal now, so we can beat him and stab him and shoot him."
"Charlotte," Monica said in a warning tone.
"He needs to pay," Charlotte said.
Sherlock only half listened to them. He focused on how he felt. He was no longer tired and his nausea had faded as the room seemed to have grown brighter and brighter. He noticed the girl next to him was sitting upright and she was blinking in surprise.
"What is your name?" Sherlock whispered to the girl.
"Jamie. What is going on? What's happening?"
"Jamie I'm Robert. Now I want you to stay with me. I am feeling the same as you."
"What are they and did they give me some kind of disease?" Jamie asked. "Am I going to die? Are they going to kill us?"
"Resist the urge to feed and we will both live." Sherlock looked up at the group of vampires. They were no longer arguing. "Finally came to a conclusion?"
"We are going to get a nice cage for you," J.T. said in an amused tone. "We'll give you a water dish and a rubber ball and make sure we'll clean out the wood chips once a week."
"Comparing me to a pet rodent," Sherlock said and sighed. The sounds of the creatures outside of the cabin had grown louder and he could hear small thumps and bumps all coming from one direction and wondered if it was from the people in the cage. "That would be the height of your intelligence."
"Nice one," Trevor said.
"You have a good amount of muscle tone," Sherlock said as he focused on Trevor. "You use your appearance and that jacket to lure young women like Jamie here into your traps. The jacket was yours and not borrowed considering the fading of the letters. The food stains that have set in state that you did not care about it before and the way you relax your shoulders shows that you gave in to joining the sport when you had no interest, perhaps your father pushed you into it, ah yes I can see the watercolor stains around your fingernails. You preferred painting to American football and if these paintings that are hanging up are yours then it is a shame you were forced to squander your talent on something you hated."
"Dude," Trevor said slowly after he swallowed. "Stop that."
"No," Caleb urged. "Keep on going. This is interesting."
"Ah yes, Caleb," Sherlock said. "You play guitar for the group and were once serious about becoming a professional. You were once part of a band."
"Tell me how you know," Caleb said enthusiastically
"The small calluses on the tips of your fingers betrayed your devotion to your talent. Your black nail polish and bleached roots show that you also want to have an image for fans. Your eyes tell me that you have regret and considering your home made t-shirt for a band I have never heard of it tells me you were part of an aspiring rock band."
"That was pretty cool," Caleb said.
"I see you have some small calluses yourself on your fingers," Monica said as she studied Sherlock's hand. "And there is a small one on your neck." She paused and pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow for a few seconds. "Do you play violin?"
"You are actually trying to learn," Sherlock said with a smile. "Yes I do." He felt hungry, but not for food and the hunger alarmed him. He had to keep going. "Charlotte you were one of the original vampires that started the nest. The leather jacket once belong to someone else. Was it the vampire that turned you?"
"Shut your God Damn mouth," Charlotte said.
"You in the back with the bright red hair," Sherlock said as his focus fell on Trisha. "Y-" He paused when he heard the sound of a window shattering.
"What the hell?" J.T. asked. "What the hell was that?"
"Why don't you check it out?" Charlotte said.
"Have you ever watched any horror movies?" J.T. asked. "The person who goes and checks the sound gets killed first."
"You aint human, stupid," Charlotte reminded him. "We're the monsters people are afraid of, remember?"
"There might be a bear out there," J.T. said. His voice was wavering. "Immortal or not I bet it's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch to get mauled by a bear." He held up a finger. "Plus I heard Grizzley's can rip the heads off people."
"There are no bears in Nebraska."
"There used to be," a woman who hung mostly in the back said. She had medium length blond hair with green streaks dyed in.
"Well there are not here now," Charlotte said.
"There are badgers out there," J.T. argued. "And they can get mean."
"Stop being a pussy and get out there." Charlotte pointed. "Ashley go with him."
"Fine," J.T. gulped and walked out of the room with the girl with green hair streaks. She leaned against a wall and let out a sigh of frustration.
"Where was I?" Sherlock asked. The room appeared to have been lit up with several lights and he could hear people running and talking out of the room. His hunger was still growing. It was still at a point where he could easily ignore it. "Right the young lady with red hair. The hair color is as fake as your nails. You also wear a lot of makeup. You are trying to hide your real self-
"Would someone just gag him already?" Trevor asked.
"Gladly," Charlotte said. "Pete, get the gag." She pointed to the only other person in the room had yet said anything. Pete had long brown hair and he was listening to his Ipod. "Pete!"
"Dude," Trish said as she pulled the earbuds out of his ear. "Listen to us and not your crap."
"Hey," Pete said as he swiped her hand away. "This is the classics. This is The Who."
"Pete, shut up," Trevor said. "We need you to gag the new g-"
The glass to the one window in the room shattered as the decapitated head of J.T was thrown through. The head rolled on the ground until it landed at Charlotte's foot.
The room exploded in a cacophony of everyone talking at once and Jamie screaming. Charlotte was barking orders and arguing with both Monica and Caleb on who should do what. Trisha was yelling at Jamie to shut up and Pete and Trevor were swearing up a storm.
Hector was the only one to remain quiet as he looked out the window.
"He's going to regret that," Sherlock said sofly. He was right. A few seconds had passed when the sound of a melon being sliced in half was heard and Hector's body slumped to the ground headless. "I really do enjoy being right."
"Holy shit, Hector," Trisha screamed a second before the room grew loud once again.
"Everybody shut up," Charlotte screamed. Once the room grew quiet she marched straight up to Sherlock and glared into his eyes. "How many Hunters are you working with?"
"Why do you assume that I'm working with other Hunters?" Sherlock asked innocently.
"I've dealt with your kind," Charlotte said. "You were taken down almost too easily. That means you haven't been hunting long. You have a partner or a group that you hunt with." She looked back at the group. "See I can do it too."
"I might hunt alone and this could be a Hunter or Hunters who are unaware that I was on the case," Sherlock said. He made his voice tremble. "I have as much to fear as you do."
"Shit he's scared," Caleb said. "Maybe he's telling the truth."
"Truth or not we have to take this Hunter or Hunters down," Charlotte said. "These two will be fine by themselves."
"I'll stay with them," Monica said as she placed herself in front of Sherlock and Jamie. "Someone has to protect them."
"Maybe I should protect them," Trevor said. "I turned the girl."
"Her name is Jamie," Sherlock said in disgust. "Did you even bother to get to know her? At least Monica tried to talk with me."
Trevor," Caleb called out to him.
Trevor opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he saw the way Caleb and Charlotte were glaring at him and walked after them.
"Don't worry, baby," Monica said as she sat in Sherlock's lap. "It's going to be over soon." She was actually concerned for him.
"Not afraid for myself," Sherlock said as he nodded towards Jamie.
"I'm hungry," Jamie said.
"We'll get you both someone to eat soon," Monica said before she focused her attention back on Sherlock. "I won't let them hurt you." She stroked his face.
Sherlock closed his eyes as he listened to the sounds outside. There were people running all over the place, their shoes drumming against the ground. He could hear people striking against the walls. There were screams, shouts and swears and he could hear the sounds of head's striking the ground. It lasted ten minutes before everything grew silent.
"See?" Monica said as she placed her finger against his lower lip. "It's all over."
"It is," Sherlock said as he stared past her shoulders at the entrance where a sweaty and bleeding Sam stood. Sam's eyes glowed again for a second. Sherlock blinked once before he stared back into Monica's eyes. "It's over for you."
"Me?" Monica asked and turned around as Sam was charging toward her. She ducked at the last second and leaped to the other side of the room.
While still panting, Sam used the sword to slice at the ropes binding Sherlock before he was pounced on by Monica.
Sherlock leaped to his feet and grabbed the discarded sword. With one quick swipe he cut off Monica's head, causing Jamie to scream once again. Sherlock rolled Monica's body off of Sam with his foot.
"Thanks," Sam said between pants.
"Sorry I couldn't help," Sherlock said.
"You were obviously tied up at the moment," Sam said as he stood back up.
"We will need her blood," Sherlock said as he tried to ignore the sound of Sam's heartbeat and his scent. He could smell Sam's blood and it was not helping his growing hunger. "And the blood from the man in the letter jacket."
"Why?"
"Because I am a danger to you right now," Sherlock said and covered his nose.
"Oh crap," Sam said and took a deep breath. "I have the rest of the ingredients in the car."
They both felt it was better if they left Jamie tied up until they were done mixing the cure. Sam had informed Sherlock that the prisoners were freed and those that were healthier were driving the weaker ones to the hospital by using the cars of the dead vampires.
"Blood from the Varsity Blues," Sam said as he mixed in the last ingredient for Jamie's cure.
"And a bit of Monica," Sherlock said as he fought to keep his voice from trembling. He was on the other side of the room from Sam but he still could smell Sam's blood. The sight of Monica's blood along with the scent of the warm an fresh living blood coursing through Sam's veins was enough to—Sherlock froze when he felt his fangs slide down from his gum pockets and over his teeth.
"Sherlock, you okay?" Sam asked.
"No," Sherlock cried out as he covered his mouth and ran out of the room. He opened the doors of several different rooms until he found a bathroom. Once he was inside he removed his hand and studied his new sharp teeth as he stared at his reflection in the mirror and continued to study them until the retracted.
He could hear and smell the human again and the scent was strong.
"Are you okay?" Sam knocked.
"Don't open the door," Sherlock warned as his fangs came out again.
"I have your medicine," Sam said. He slowly opened the door.
Sherlock used every bit of strength to restrain himself and with shaking hands grabbed the jar with the cure. He chugged it down and tried not to gag. It was the vilest thing he had ever tasted
Pain coursed through his body as crumpled to the floor. He threw up what appeared to have been more blood as visions flowed through his head: lunging at Sam, staring at himself in the mirror, running to the bathroom, mixing the cure, killing Monica, watching the other vampires panic, consoling Jamie and finally the kiss that turned him before darkness over took him.
He woke up to the sound of Sam's voice and felt himself being gently nudged awake.
"You okay there?" Sam asked.
"I'm fine," Sherlock said as he blinked. Once again the cabin was dark and he couldn't even here the crickets outside. "I'm fine now. Thank you. We need to finish Jamie's."
"I already gave her the cure," Sam said. "She should be waking up now. We'll take her back home and try to get some sleep ourselves."
"Yes. I have to say that was quiet an experience."
"You almost sound giddy about it."
"That would make quite a blog entry and I will have to make sure John will read it." His giddiness faded as he thought about returning to his friend.
