Crimson: Bloody Life
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..."