REVIVAL
~*~
Children of the night, shut up! - Dracula, Love At First Bite
~*~
Genesis had decided to drop the girl off at 01 – the machines were better equipped to deal with the recently unplugged, especially self-substantiates like this one. Asmodeus heartily agreed, which was enough to make Genesis pause and reconsider the options. LCD pointed out that Asmodeus really was interested in her survival, and Camry seconded that notion, so the ship's course was set for 01.
Camry radioed ahead to inform the workers at the embassy of the course change, and the Icarus was met at 01 by a medical 'droid and, to Asmodeus' surprise, Danaë. She gave him a shrug and mentioned that the machines were furthering her own training so that she'd be able to care for the self-substantiates as well. LCD caught her later and mentioned what he'd noticed about the bruise on the girl's neck.
Asmodeus and Danaë exchanged dark glances. "Are you thinking what I am?" the woman asked him. "I'll look into it," the Demon of Zion said, offering Danaë a courtly, if mocking, bow. "Frenchie may have some answers for me. Maybe I can barter some info out of him."
Danaë gave him an arch look, and he contrived to look innocent. "Not with people...." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Only because you don't want Niobe mad at you."
"Damn straight," he told her. She just shook her head and followed the 'bot carrying the girl. Asmodeus slipped off into the darker parts of 01, where the Merovingian held power. Someone in his menagerie might have some idea of what was going on... he hoped.
~*~
Red took a soft, hesitant step into the church, one hand clutching the deep wound in his side to try and stop his blood from flowing out. Automatically, his free hand dipped into the dispenser at the door, wetting his index and middle fingers with holy water before making the sign of the cross.
He was startled at the familiarity of this movement, given that he'd not made it in over two centuries. Does God hear the pleas of traitors? he idly wondered as he made his way down the back of the chapel, eyes searching for a confessional booth. Well, here's hoping, eh, Lord? His footsteps echoed through the empty room as he walked, mixed with the occasional splatter as a drop or two of his blood hit the floor. Even if He hears traitors, Red found himself wondering again, would He hear a program?
It wasn't his wound that had driven him to this chapel, oh no. He'd been wounded much worse in the past – had his arm clear torn off in the real world, if he recalled right. He'd been wounded on his way here. Bloody vampires.
He found the confessional booth and knelt in it, awaiting a priest. He wouldn't be surprised if the Merovingian already knew he was here, but he figured he was pretty safe. He wasn't seeing the Oracle, after all. So he was getting back to his roots, turning to a possible god to deal with his problems. The Merovingian had other things to worry about, such as the rogue vampires as well as the child his wife was carrying for him.
Red spotted the priest and felt instantly glad he was using the shell that looked like his old self. He had a feeling that the tattooed one would have given the old priest a heart attack on the spot. Sure, that version was smaller than this one, but there was something vaguely demonic about those Maori facial tattoos.
He waited for the priest to be seated before ploughing right into what he needed to get off his chest. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been...," Red's voice trailed off as he tried to figure out the number of years and failed miserably, "a very long time since my last confession."
Red confessed everything to the priest – well... as much as he safely could. Some parts, such as the existence of the Matrix, he had to gloss over. "And do you repent of your sins, my son?" the priest asked after Red had finished. He considered this. "Ev'rything but punchin' Eon."
The priest sighed and began to speak, likely about forgiveness, but Red spotted the shadow looming at the window. "Look out!" the program yelped, getting around the booth and between the good father and the vampire that crashed through the window.
It hit the burly Irishman with enough force to slam him against the cold, hard floor, white-hot pain lancing from his wound in an attempt to temporarily paralyse his body. Red reacted through the pain, using his strong arms to crush the creature against him in a bear hug. It screamed and thrashed and tried to bite him, but Red grimly held on, tightening his grip until its back snapped. It wasn't dead, oh no, but it wasn't going to be moving anytime soon.
The former human got to his feet, hissing in pain. "Forgive me," he said to both the priest and God as he reached out and snapped some of the wooden decoration off the confessional booth. Oak, good. One of the four "holy" woods, should poison it if I can't stake it, he thought as the rest of the band struck. Red was hard-pressed to defend himself against five vampires while badly wounded and trying to protect the innocent coppertop. He managed to stake two, but the other three bore him down, adding extra injuries to the ones he already had.
These were the vampires who'd attacked him on his way here, he realised. They must have followed the trail of blood he'd undoubtedly left! Their leader stepped forward, hungrily eyeing Red's blood. "So ends the life of one of the Partners," he sneered, appropriating the stake and raising it to take Red's life with it.
"By the power vested in me by the Lamb of God," interrupted the forgotten old priest, raising a crucifix as he approached the vampires, "I command thee to leave this place!" Red winced, knowing that nothing would happen –
and something did.
~*~
The System recognised the priest as one who truly believed in the God he worshipped and accessed the vampires' coding, revoking their normal immunity and forcing them to flee before they were destroyed.
~*~
Red pushed himself up onto his elbows, utterly stunned. This was a new turn of events. If he survived the blood loss, it would definitely be going to the Frenchman. The priest was beside him now. "Are you badly injured, my son?"
"I'll live," he replied with more conviction than he felt. He struggled upright, surveyed the wrecked portion of the church, and sighed. His fault. Reaching to his left ear, he removed the emerald stud earring from it. Next came a platinum ring; together, their price would more than pay for the damage. However... "If this doesn't cover the damage, Father, I'll bring some more next time," he said, mentally adding, and I'll make Seth do it if I don't live through the night.
Red stumbled out of the small church, making for a subway and the Trainman. Vampires and werewolves hated Mobil Ave. with a passion, there was no way in hell they'd follow him. Besides, he might have enough on him to bribe the disgusting man to take his train to 01 and smuggle the human with the healing hands to him – the girl Danaë, his many-times-great-niece, had healed a fucking Agent, after all. Maybe she'd help him.
He found the grizzled program easily enough. "Charon," he greeted the Trainman, "I need passage to Limbo."
"Avoiding the vampires?" the other sneered at him. Red gave him a venomous look. "I'll pay you."
The overall negotiation of both his and Dana's passage resulted in Red passing over all his jewellery but the ring marking him as one of the Merovingian's men, his car keys, his hidden flask of moonshine, the monetary contents of his wallet, and a promise of both a five-year Playboy subscription and a year's supply of hard liquor.
'Charon' was certainly a good name for the greedy bastard.
Red made it to Mobil Ave and collapsed. It was an impressive fall, starting at the knees and continuing until Red's broad chest hit the ground. The Trainman muttered something about 'damn giant' as he rewrote the code of Mobil to erase the cracks Red's impact had caused.
~*~
Asmodeus emerged from the room, blinking as he stepped from darkness into slightly-less-darkness. The channels to the château had changed, and he didn't have time to hack them. Something weird was going on in the Matrix.
The problem with his theory was that they had no proof, and the only method of confirmation was getting in touch with the Merovingian and questioning him in such detail that he couldn't talk his way around the answers and give nothing away. Now, how to word his phrases to talk the man into talking....
"What do you mean, Red's waiting for me?" he heard Danaë ask. His head snapped up; what the hell was she doing in this part of 01? Poking his head around a corner, the Zionite saw Danaë conversing with a hologram of a grizzled man.
"I mean what I said," the man snapped at her. "He's waiting for you, and he's bleeding badly. I'm just holding up my end of the bargain." Asmodeus didn't like his tone, not at all. Danaë bit her lip. "How do I get to him?" The man smirked. "You ride my train." He gave her directions, and Asmodeus followed her. This he had to see.
Sure enough, there was a train. Danaë hesitated, and stepped on board... then collapsed outside of it. "Danaë!" he yelled, running to her and drawing her into his arms. Her face was peaceful; her breathing normal. Asmodeus frowned, checking her pulse; it was normal.
It was like... she was jacked in....
The train began to pull out. Eyes narrowed, Asmodeus leapt on board—
And screamed in pain.
~*~
Cliffhanger! *laughs evilly*
What happened to Asmodeus? Why is Red being hunted? Will Red make it? Why am I asking these questions? And what about Fred? All these questions and more will be answered… eventually. Definitely within the next month or so. I think.
~*~
Winter: Jan is my counter to Yu-Lien; she is her opposite, almost. I rather like Miss Mitchell myself. The nurturing side isn't new. Asmodeus is just good at hiding it. ^_^
~*~
Hey, where'd all my loyal reviewers go? *ish confused now* Do you not like this latest Cycle?