Angel stood by the door, chest heaving through habit after the slightly
prolonged chase. Although he no longer required the cold grey recesses of
his cold lung membrane, the adrenaline his body still produced was
electrifying and vital. So often the senses of the undead could be blunted
by a lack of heat or cold sensation and an abhorrence of natural light.
Pity filled his soul for the girl his prey had left, lifeless in the alley.
But envy filled his heart when he smelt the warm blood which had passed to
her assailant.
He saw a trail of blood like a glowing luminous mist as he made his way further into the warehouse. The human body of the rogue vampire had been terminated young, and the thing had swaggered about like an anaemic varsity football player. This made it all the harder to hide its bulk from his own centuries of experience.
The scent trail led him to a small canteen off the main hall. He heard scrabbling noises and as he entered the room he caught sight of his quarry retrieving something from the top of an ancient vending machine. Not caring what the other was doing Angel leapt over the neighbouring tables and onto the athletic-looking corpse, feeling its rib cage crack as he hit the floor under Angel's boots.
The boy-thing rebounded to his feet, and spat blood onto his dark attacker.
"Filthy animal you are now", said Angel, traces of brogue creeping in to his voice. He pinned the creature neatly through the shoulder with a rapier and buried the tip in the wall next to the faded and peeling 'smoking kills' poster. Taking out a crimson kerchief he wiped the red flecked spittle from his face and admired his handiwork.
The youngster whined and whimpered like a dog, clutching the bunched up muscles around his wound. Fear was written on his face and Angel could see that he was young to the immortal life not to have had a serious wound before now.
"Coping with respiratory damage is a funny thing for the undead", said Angel, stepping a little closer. "You can crack ribs, and sure enough, they'll heal. A punctured lung now. Have you ever tried to speak with a punctured lung? You have to remember to hold your hand over the hold or it makes this revolting wet whistling sound." He leaned in closer a stiletto smoothly appear in his palm.
"I had a massive hole in my lung once. Had to pack it with straw. Shall we see how much I can carve out of you before you loose the ability to talk? Only that would be a pity, you see- because I want you to talk." Angel leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the curls of bond hair by the vampire's ear.
"Have you got anything to tell me?"
"Nothing!" This was rewarded by a point sliding into the skin below the pectoral muscle.
"You're sure?"
"Damn you! Ramases would level me if he knew I'd allowed you to catch me. There is nothing you could do to me that he wouldn't. Don't think I don't know that."
"Did Ramases sire you? Where can I find him? How many of you are there?" Angel's little knife found the lung in and he put pressure on the sides of the wound, rocking his wrist to enlarge the hole. As he did this slowly and deliberately, the tortured lungs gave out a surprisingly high pitched squeal. A couple of air bubbles reached the surface around the knife.
Angel pulled the knife out and tossed it to one side. Reaching into his pocket he drew out a pencil and deftly applied it to the hole, which was now bleeding freely. In doing so he momentarily lost track of his victim's movement.
"Ramases is not one of us. He was sent to us from God to take us to the heavenly place." The young face was paler now, breath coming in short pathetic little wheezes as he tried to draw his chest back from the makeshift stake. But his eyes took on a shifty look which Angel was surprised by. A flicker of these eyes made Angel look down at a small glass phial now nestled in his right hand.
"Ramases has come back to rule and I will sit at his right hand",was the last thing the vampire said as he cracked the phial. There was a sharp pungent smell of cloves and acids then he disappeared. Entirely.
Angel was left leaning on a rapier holding a bloodstained pencil. Resisting the urge to lick it clean he threw it from himself in disgust. The slim rapier was tugged clean of the wall and put back in its coat- lining sheath.
"Who the hell is Ramases?" he asked the empty air.
Opening Credits
He saw a trail of blood like a glowing luminous mist as he made his way further into the warehouse. The human body of the rogue vampire had been terminated young, and the thing had swaggered about like an anaemic varsity football player. This made it all the harder to hide its bulk from his own centuries of experience.
The scent trail led him to a small canteen off the main hall. He heard scrabbling noises and as he entered the room he caught sight of his quarry retrieving something from the top of an ancient vending machine. Not caring what the other was doing Angel leapt over the neighbouring tables and onto the athletic-looking corpse, feeling its rib cage crack as he hit the floor under Angel's boots.
The boy-thing rebounded to his feet, and spat blood onto his dark attacker.
"Filthy animal you are now", said Angel, traces of brogue creeping in to his voice. He pinned the creature neatly through the shoulder with a rapier and buried the tip in the wall next to the faded and peeling 'smoking kills' poster. Taking out a crimson kerchief he wiped the red flecked spittle from his face and admired his handiwork.
The youngster whined and whimpered like a dog, clutching the bunched up muscles around his wound. Fear was written on his face and Angel could see that he was young to the immortal life not to have had a serious wound before now.
"Coping with respiratory damage is a funny thing for the undead", said Angel, stepping a little closer. "You can crack ribs, and sure enough, they'll heal. A punctured lung now. Have you ever tried to speak with a punctured lung? You have to remember to hold your hand over the hold or it makes this revolting wet whistling sound." He leaned in closer a stiletto smoothly appear in his palm.
"I had a massive hole in my lung once. Had to pack it with straw. Shall we see how much I can carve out of you before you loose the ability to talk? Only that would be a pity, you see- because I want you to talk." Angel leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the curls of bond hair by the vampire's ear.
"Have you got anything to tell me?"
"Nothing!" This was rewarded by a point sliding into the skin below the pectoral muscle.
"You're sure?"
"Damn you! Ramases would level me if he knew I'd allowed you to catch me. There is nothing you could do to me that he wouldn't. Don't think I don't know that."
"Did Ramases sire you? Where can I find him? How many of you are there?" Angel's little knife found the lung in and he put pressure on the sides of the wound, rocking his wrist to enlarge the hole. As he did this slowly and deliberately, the tortured lungs gave out a surprisingly high pitched squeal. A couple of air bubbles reached the surface around the knife.
Angel pulled the knife out and tossed it to one side. Reaching into his pocket he drew out a pencil and deftly applied it to the hole, which was now bleeding freely. In doing so he momentarily lost track of his victim's movement.
"Ramases is not one of us. He was sent to us from God to take us to the heavenly place." The young face was paler now, breath coming in short pathetic little wheezes as he tried to draw his chest back from the makeshift stake. But his eyes took on a shifty look which Angel was surprised by. A flicker of these eyes made Angel look down at a small glass phial now nestled in his right hand.
"Ramases has come back to rule and I will sit at his right hand",was the last thing the vampire said as he cracked the phial. There was a sharp pungent smell of cloves and acids then he disappeared. Entirely.
Angel was left leaning on a rapier holding a bloodstained pencil. Resisting the urge to lick it clean he threw it from himself in disgust. The slim rapier was tugged clean of the wall and put back in its coat- lining sheath.
"Who the hell is Ramases?" he asked the empty air.
Opening Credits