Dusk til Dawn... .. .
Chapter I
Humankind held dominion over the Earth, but these dark creatures held dominion over the nightmare worlds of the night. And this was most certainly not good...
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As the boys cruised through New York in a minivan late
that night, they had an air of superiority about them. Deserved or not,
in their own minds they were king of their domain...at least, in most of
their minds...
"Uhm...is Central Park the greatest place to be at this
time of night?" asked the 17 year old Alex Elder. He shifted uncomfortably
in his seat, arms crossed.
"Relax, Alex, m'man--like, who th' hell you think's gonna
bother us?" scoffed his friend, Michael Daws. He playfully slapped Alex
on the arm. "Hah? Heh heh." Alex turned to look out the window.
"Aw, don't mess yerself, Al! Mike's right--this time a'
night, we own the city! Tell 'im, Gordon," said Louis, staring away from
the road to reassure Alex. The car swerved a bit, and the driving teenager
whispered under his breath "oop, shoit."
"You right, Louis--and Alex knows it--he's just bummed
out over his fight with lady Julie...but she'll be cool, Alex. She know's
all 'bout yer little mood swings," replied Gordon. He twisted around in
his seat to face Alex, who was in the very back seat. "Heheh, at least
you two have REALLY have something in common, even if it's only for a couple
days a month," he snickered.
"S'not funny, man. Things feel really bad. Things are
goin' for a piss, and it's not just with Julie," Alex sighed. He pulled
his gaze away from the window to his friends, "I been pissing off everyone
lately, even my parents. It's like I'm...friggin'..." he strained for a
metaphor, "I'm at the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall."
"Jesus, Al, lighten up! You got no reason to be this weird!
You got a pretty lady at yer side, some loaded parents, and the world's
ours, man. All ours! Hehe, we got nothin' to...um...fear?" Louis stopped
speaking as the sounds of motorcycle engines revving caught his attention.
"Where the hell's that coming from?" he muttered. Suddenly, six motorcycles
screeched and stopped in front of the minivan. Louis cursed, and slammed
on the breaks. The van barely stopped in time. They all froze in their
seats. They were barely visible, just out of reach of the headlights' glow.
He heard one, a woman, even through the windshield...
"Looka'dis, m'bats...we got dinnah in a can!" said the
woman, chuckling, her jamaican accent thick. She revved her bike's motor
again, rumbling in the otherwise quiet night.
"Oh, shit. What the hell do--" "Bikers! They're gonna
kill us, I know--" "Sonovabitch, my parents are gonna murder me--" the
teenagers all spoke at once in hushed fearful tones. Alex shook his head
and whispered to his friend, "Louis, how fast can you pull our asses out
of here?"
Louis smiled at the suggestion and shifted
gears to reverse. "Faster than these porky biker bastards can chase us!"
he whispered back, confident. He slammed his foot on the gas, and the tires
spit up gravel and smoke. *GOGOGO!!* he thought, and finally the minivan
started to zoom back. A loud bang made them all jump in their seats, and
Louis accidentally swerved the van to the side of the street. One of the
bikers, visible in the headlights now, had whipped out a rather large bowie
knife and thrown it directly into one of the tires. He was dressed like
some kind of cowboy, hat & poncho and all. His companions were no more
ordinary.
To the left of the cowboy was some kind of transvestite,
decked out in leather and piercings. On the far side of the biker group
was a heavy-metal punk, long shaggy hair and baggy clothes. To his left
was what looked to be a blue-haired teenage girl, 18 or 19, wearing very
skimpy clothing. Behind her was an afro-sporting fellow who looked straight
out of some 70s blaxploitation movie. Between him and the cowboy was the
leader of the band, the jamaican woman. Her short hair was done up in small
dreadlocks on top of her head, and she wore a leopard print short fur coat,
open to reveal her torso, which was naked save for strips of electrical-tape
placed over the tips of her breasts. She smiled at the teenagers, a dark,
evil smile.
Mike gulped, "I seen this movie before, the brotha always dies. Le's
get the hell outta here!"
"SCATTER!" yelled Louis as the four jumped out of the
minivan and began running in all directions. The bikers sprang off
their motorcycles in pursuit, not having to go far before they caught all
their prey. All except for Alex.
*Jesus Christ, what's going on!? I gotta find a cop, gotta
find someone...good thing I stuck with Track even after my moods started...but
that won't be worth shit if I can't find someone in time...* thought Alex,
hiding behind a tree some 30 or 40 feet from the van. He looked back around
the corner at the bikers, who'd gotten ahold of his friends, and began
running again.
"We got t'ree of de mice, but where da cute one get to?" asked Rose the Puppet, leader of the Jellybat gang. She looked around, and Eightball, the afro sporting one, pointed to the running figure some 80 feet away. She smiled, baring sharp teeth. "Ah, dere he is. And he be mine," she said as she sprang forward.
Alex kept running, kept pumping his legs through the fallen
Autumn leaves. He heard a fluttering behind him, and a faint jamaican laugh,
and suddenly the one whom he had heard earlier was on him. She leapt upon
his back, tackling him to the ground. "You a fast li'l one, but not near
fast enough to get 'way, baby!" She brayed, "an' Rose nevah miss a meal.
'Specially a good lookin' one like you, boy. Hehehehahah!" Her eyes flashed
with evil intent. Even through the electrical-tape, her excitement was
visible. She grinded her hips up against Alex and let out a throaty growling-groan.
She smiled again and nipped him on the nose, drawing a single drop of blood.
He let out a whimper, and struggled again.
"N-no...no...please..?" whimpered Alex as she flipped
him onto his back with unnatural strength and grinned, showing off long
sharp fangs. Thoughts of his girlfriend Julie danced through Alex's head,
how he was so sorry about the fights they had.
"Aw, nice 'n' polite, I like dat. Too bad no one give
fuck all if dinnah minds it's Ps and Qs, hahaha!" she laughed as she leaned
forward, dragging her fangs across Alex's neck, leaving shallow cuts and
slurping the blood that flowed forth. He let out a yelp, and struggled
beneath her. He could hear the faint screams of his friends over his own
groans, and the roars from the bikers. She lifted her head from Alex's
bleeding neck and yelled to her compadres, "Don' be playin' wit'cher fuckin'
food! Finish 'em off! NOW!!!" She turned back to Alex, who was staring
at the blood seeping into his coat and shirt, trying to comprehend the
damage done to him. She ran her clawed hands over his cheeks, and said
sweetly, "we don' wanna be makin' no competition, deary, we be de onliest
bloodsuckahs in dis town, f'r sure! Now, bay-be, no mo' games, time fo'
me t'eat. I'll open wide, and you...say...AHH." With that, she sunk her
teeth into Alex's neck, ripping it open enough to drink. He let out a gurgling
scream, as he felt her tear into him. Shock took him over then, and all
he could do was see, see his own dark blood splash up over his inhuman
attacker. He heard her soft groans, heard her slurp down his lifeblood,
heard the sounds of death and screams from his friends, and the biker's
cheers. He passed out...
When he came too, for just a moment, he saw his attacker,
Rose, dragging him back to her gang. They stood in the midst of a mess
of blood and meat, what once was his friends. He tried to turn his head,
but a burning lance of pain shot through his body. He could taste blood
in his mouth. He moved his eyes around, trying to look for some escape
now, but all he saw was the carnage that the surrounded the bikers.
"Niiiice," growled Rose, as she kicked Mike's severed
half crushed head out of the way, "dat mess 'o' gumbo ain't never gon'
come back." She threw Alex onto the pile of torsos. He groaned, and spit
up bile and blood. He could see through a red haze the heavy-metal punker
gnawing on the stump of a severed arm, and the cowboy dangling Louis's
head above the girl, who was on her knees begging, almost erotically, for
the dripping blood. Alex heaved, but no more would come forth. His stomach
was empty, and his veins were not far off. Rose kicked him in the leg,
and growled, "here, put dis fast boy on puree, too...an' hurry." Eightball
nodded, and dropped the broken leg of Gordon. He grabbed Alex by the arm
of his coat, but spun around when he heard a noise. The other bikers finished
destroying and devouring the corpses of Alex's friends, while Eightball
wandered to the flank of the group.
"What are you doing?" asked a deep, ominous voice from
the dark. Eightball smiled, thinking it was a nosy hobo.
"We just havin' a good ol' ti--HEY, who you...?!" asked
the stunned Eightball before a blow sent him skidding across the street
into his fellow bikers. The cowboy snarled and spun around, facing their
guest. An seven foot tall, cloaked being floated in the air, watching them.
"Gegh," moaned Eightball.
"Who thuh fuck are yuh, pard'ner?" snarled the cowboy.
He pulled his bowie knife out from the minivan's tire and pointed it at
the stranger.
"That is not important," boomed the floating one. He looked
at Rose, and said menacingly "stand away from the boy, slut. You'll do
no further damage to him."
"We ain't...um...dat is...we ain't gonna stay 'round here
an' argue wit'choo about no dead boy--take 'im, you wan' him," Rose stumbled
over her words, then regained her composure. "Bats! We bookin'!" she called.
The inhuman bikers mounted their cycles and roared off into the night,
leaving Eightball still reeling on the pavement. He coughed up a sharp
tooth, knocked loose by the floating one's blow.
"Excellent logic," said the creature, as it floated down
to the collection of human remains. It picked up Alex, and said, "come,
lad. You are safe now...though it may be that I am too late." Eightball's
eyes fluttered at the sound of the new element to the late-night massacre.
"Whasss...happenin...?" sputtered the half unconscious
scoundrel. "Ch-ugh," it coughed and rubbed it's face. He tried to look
around, his strength slowly returning.
"Hmm, that scent--someone new arrives. Ah, bad news for
you, Eightball," whispered the creature as it floated away, carrying Alex
in it's long, muscular arms.
Eightball rolled over onto it's side and started to push
itself up. A crunch of gravel and a fwap-fwap of a flapping cloak alerted
him to another's presence. He glanced up at someone, a red shape in his
blurred vision. "Huh...? Who're...who 'r' you, bitch?" he slurred through
a cracked jaw. He tried to make it sound vicious and half-snarling, but
his injury and daze were not co-operating with his wishes. He shook his
head, and his eyes focussed for a moment, homing in on a rather dangerous
pointed right at him.
A click sounded in the crisp night air as the new stranger loaded a
crossbow.
"Someone you don't want to know, leech," said the cloak
clad woman. She fired an arrow deep into Eightball's mouth, down his throat,
into his spine. He gurgled and convulsed, then let out a bloody sigh and
died. "Someone who's going to crush your kind. So is my quest..."
