3.
I tried to convince Jean that the best thing to do would be
for her to come with me. She wouldn't see the actual crime scene, but at least,
she would be safe with me. Too bad the feeling wasn't mutual. The display of
hunter versus prey had only heightened her interest in the club. It was that
whole sex and violence theory coming into play again. She wanted to stay,
reminding me that Carmen was with her. She had a point. This was actually
supposed to be her night out, not our night out. I was just along to act as
supervision.
I prepared to leave the club with a promise that I would return soon. I was
trying to put a little faith in Carmen. That probably wasn't the smartest thing
I've ever done, but what else could I do? I wanted Jean to enjoy herself, and
if her enjoyment of choice was watching vampires attack each other at a strip club,
who was I to ruin the fun? I stopped by the claim booth to retrieve my purse.
For a moment, I wished I'd brought a knife as well.
"I almost had you." Vega said with a sly grin before I could exit the club,
confirming my fear that he was trying to probe in my head.
There were only two people allowed to pick at my brain, and Vega wasn't one of
those people. "Almost isn't good enough, Vega, especially when it comes to me."
I called over my shoulder, walking out the club.
"Touché, Ororo." I heard his voice follow me into the night.
An empty coffin and a dead mutant was what greeted me at the Glendale cemetery.
I was pulling at the uncomfortable coverall I now donned to protect my clothes
as I surveyed the scene. Traces of skin littered the ground around the coffin,
but no body. A few feet away were the remains of our dead mutant, and let's
just say the term "hollow man" applied to this scene in a literal sense.
Someone had cracked this man open like a treasure chest and made off with his
organs.
I stooped over his body. His skin was a light brownish-pink color, and he had
these odd protrusions in his skins. I saw something that looked like bone
trying to emerge from his arms. I swallowed hard and turned away. I didn't know
this man, but when he was alive, we had been part of the same struggle. I could
only imagine the hardships he endured from day to day.
"They called him Spike. His real name isn't known. He was the caretaker here.
The owner employed him because he sympathized with the mutant cause." A gruff
voice said behind me. I turned to see Sgt. Bayman staring over my shoulder.
"What do you think it was, Munroe?" Sgt. Bayman stood at a powerful six feet.
He was hulking man who bragged of a Russian background. He wasn't really into
the "supernatural" business, but he still put in his best effort on cases of
this caliber.
"Well, you can rule out the anti-mutant groups. Ghouls are what we're looking
for." I replied standing again, and then I frowned. "There aren't supposed to
be any ghouls in this cemetery."
"And that means...?"
"That means they traveled to this cemetery, and ghouls don't make it a habit to
travel anywhere. This cemetery has no ghouls because it's still holy ground.
Ghouls resides in graveyards that are very old or have had the holiness
siphoned away from it by demonic rituals. Whether they rise or just move in is
still up for debate."
"Up for debate, eh? I'm taking that to mean they don't know which it is."
"Precisely."
"What exactly are ghouls?" Sgt. Bayman asked.
"Well, there are many theories on that. Some people believe they are the souls
of evil people or people who have been attacked by a zombie, vampire, or
wereanimal. I don't believe that. I've seen cemeteries where every single
corpse in the place was a ghoul. So if we stuck with the theory, they were
either all evil, all attacked, or a combination of the two. Honestly, how
plausible is that?"
"So basically, origin unknown. Alright, tell me what you do know about them."
"Unlike zombies, ghouls don't rot, and they're not very smart. They operate at
animal intelligence, and they travel in packs. They don't work with humans or
anything else for that matter. They usually don't attack people because they're
fearful in nature. I don't know how that would explain what happened to the
corpse. Unless he was already unconscious."
"What about zombies? Don't they crave raw meat?"
"Yeah, but it would take a group of them to do this kind of damage, and zombies
not social creatures."
He nodded in understanding. "Ghouls it is then, even if it's not really their
cup of tea. Sorry to bother you on your off night. The secretary at Animators,
Inc said you were on a bachelorette outing with your engaged friend. I didn't
think you had it in you. Our patron saint, Ororo Munroe, partaking in pleasurable
activities. Our animator is growing up, guys!" The other officers at the scene
aww-ed while Sgt. Bayman wrapped his broad arm around my shoulders.
"I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?" I asked.
"Not if I can help it, and be careful tonight. Don't want you picking up
anything."
"You're not worried about me. You just don't want to be stuck on these spooky
cases without a real expert." He laughed and gave me a friendly pat on the
back, and we said our final goodbyes. If he only knew. I wouldn't exactly call
this "outing" pleasurable. So far, the biggest perk of my night had been
inspecting a dead body. I shook my head, walking past the hordes of officers.
"Hey 'roro!" I heard a genteel voice with a southern accent call behind me. "If
you wanna see a naked man, Ah'll be yo' huckleberry!" Davison and his southern
aphorisms never ceased to amuse me. The man had the voice of a refined,
southern aristocrat. Other than that voice, there was nothing well-mannered
about that man.
"Why don't you save it for the sideshow, Davison? I hear Dr. Phreak is looking
for a new attraction. Besides, they don't make drinks stiff enough to handle
that face...or anything else I may have to look at." Laughter, choruses of
catcalls, and the promise of having willing love slaves trailed after me. I
couldn't say my job wasn't interesting.
When I arrived back at the club, Vega was manning the door. The bouncer from
earlier was nowhere to be seen. I squared my jaw, holding my head high,
preparing to walk past Vega. I didn't want to be involved in any of his small
talk. All I wanted was to get Jean and get back the mansion. I was still
feeling a little unnerved by the sight of the dead mutant. I knew it didn't
even cause ripples in the lives of those officers, but it bothered me to no
end.
Cases like that always hit home. The Professor once told me that we sympathize
most with what correlates directly to us because it hits a personal note inside
of us.
Vega stood unmoving as I approached him. "You smell of blood." His voice was
low and cool. It betrayed anger, and I realized he thought I'd been out killing
vampires.
"Too bad it isn't yours." I said with a sugary smile. I knew I was pressing my
luck. It would only take one blow from Vega to send me to my grave. And they
say I don't take chances. What do they know? "Don't worry. I wasn't out killing
your kind."
"They talk about you. You're quite a legend in these parts. They call you the
Executioner." His voice was mocking now as he emphasized the word executioner.
If was as if he were tempting me to make a move, to prove how tough I really
was. If he thought I was going to attack him, he was sadly mistaken. I may take
chances, but I don't make stupid mistakes.
"They can say anything they want as long as it's just talk."
I moved closer to the entrance, trying to put distance between him and me, but
when I started to pass him. He grabbed my arm and asked, "How many of us have
you killed?" Vega was definitely an enigma. You never knew what to expect from
here, and I hated to admit it, but his erratic behavior scared me just a bit.
I thought he might be trying to scare me, and he should know by now that he had
succeeded. But he still held my arm in that firm grip, and I realized that he
wanted an answer. Should I lie or tell the truth? He would probably know if I
lied. "Enough to know the tricks of the trade." I answered, satisfied with my
answer. Truthfully, I had killed fourteen of the bloodsuckers with many, many
more in sight.
Vega released my arm. "Did it ever occur to you that vampires are people,
Ororo?"
That question brought about thoughts of my earlier conversation of Logan. Yes,
it occurred to me that under the law they were people, and maybe, I shouldn't
be so judgmental when it came to them. They wanted rights and to be accepted
just like mutants, but now, as I looked at Vega's hair glinting in the
moonlight, I wouldn't acknowledge those musings. I wasn't ready to give Vega
any satisfaction of being partly right.
"I'm not going to debate with you about the status of vampires or any other
night creature, so don't waste my fucking time, Vega." I didn't usually use
such coarse language unless I wanted to get a point across, and after the words
had slipped from my mouth, I suddenly felt foolish. Vega seemed unruffled by my
usage of words, and that made me feel even more foolish.
"Of course you won't. I'll cease to be a hindrance to you, now. Please, go in
and enjoy the rest of the show. I know I will." Chills slithered up my spine as
I entered the club. I turned to ask Vega what he meant with that last
statement, but decided better of it when I saw him looking out into the night.
For the second time tonight, fear balled tightly in the pit of my stomach, and
all I could think about was Jean.
I threw my purse at the claim girl and quickly entered the main room of the
club. My heart dropped at what I saw. Jean was standing onstage in a trance.
Her face looked youthful under the dim lights, her red hair flaming vibrantly.
I didn't know if that was the effect of the lights or what. I looked to our
table where Carmen held a shrewd smile, and then I rushed to the stage, hoping
I wasn't too late.
I approached the stage without caution. Who gave a damn about caution when my
friend was in danger? A vampire appeared out of nowhere. He didn't walk on
stage; he just appeared. He was easily the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
Everything about him was dark, beautiful, and power. I swallowed hard. They
don't make men that handsome. I closed my eyes tightly. No, this was a trick.
He was playing with my mind.
"Jean! Jean!" I called to my friend, trying to ignore him. She didn't respond
to my voice. The trance was too deep. He could call to her anytime, and she
would have to obey his call. He'd fed off not her blood, but her energy. They
were psychically connected, and she belonged to him now.
I opened my eyes and then said, "Please... don't..." I knew my begging was
useless. What's done is done. If I could take her place, I would. Jean had so
much life ahead of her. The vampire whispered in Jean's ear, and her eyes
fluttered open.
She let out an audible gasp. "Wh-what's going on?" Jean asked, looking around
the stage bewildered.
"We are now bound." The vampire answered. I wanted to cover my ears and deny I
ever heard those words, but it was true. Jean looked at him as if he was crazy.
She walked off the stage shakily, and I assisted her to her seat.
"I don't feel so well, Ororo." She said as she sat down slowly. Carmen still
had that same look, and I had to bite back my angry words. How could she let
this happen to Jean? Why had I been stupid and left Jean in this place in the
first place? I was supposed to be looking out for her. Instead, I led her right
into harm's way.
"Relax, Ororo. The show's only just begun." Carmen said with a snicker, turning
to look at the vampire onstage.
Following her gaze, I turned to look at him as well. My heart jumped into my
throat. He was looking at me. "Come," he commanded.
"No." I said, but my limbs moved involuntarily as he continued to will for me
to come. I tried to fight his summon, but he was too powerful. I felt
encompassed in his control, and I knew that I was in trouble. I walked to the
stage, standing at the base, gazing up at him as a fan might do at a concert. I
was aware of everything that was going on around me, but I was powerless to do
anything to stop it.
He reached for my hand, and I willingly gave it too him. He pulled me onto the
stage. "My name is Triage," he said with the same Spanish lilt that tinged
Vega's speech. "And you are?"
"Ororo," the voice was mine, but I didn't feel like I had truly said it. In
fact, I felt like I was watching a movie as I allowed him to lead me to the
middle of the stage.
"Ororo, I believe that means beauty. A fitting name for you, my dear." He
answered. His voice didn't hold the same appealing cadence as Vega's, but his
mind was far stronger. He was willing me to give in to him. Our wills clashed,
and it was almost painful to fight him. I was only human after all.
"Don't fight, Ororo." He said.
For a moment, I wondered why should I fight? I should just give in to him. It
would be so much easier, but I knew I couldn't. I thought about my friends, the
children, my dedication to helping humankind, and I knew I could never let
Triage possess me. "No." I whispered, fighting his will with a renewed
strength.
"Qué?" Surprised lined his voice, and I wonder if he realized he had slipped
into his native tongue.
This made me feel a little more powerful. I had ruffled the composure of one of
the older vampires. "No!" I said louder this time, channeling more power. I
broke his gaze, and then I looked him in the eyes again. A new strength to
fight surged through me. I was still unable to move and still very much afraid,
but I was trying to fight.
He moved closer to me, bridging the small space that separated us. He touched
my face, cool fingers sliding against my warm skin. He pulled me into a cyclone
of dizzying emotions as he caressed my skin, and I was slowly giving in. I
could hear my heartbeat screaming in my ears, and then I felt his need -- his
hunger.
He was going to bite me. I don't know where the strength to fight back came
from, but I found myself pushing ferociously at his chest, falling back and
away from him. I scrambled to get away, but he grasped my hair, pulling me back
toward him. I screamed loudly.
"Ororo!" Jean yelled with shrill alarm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her
stand, her fist clenched at her sides. "Let her go!"
"Sit!" Triage commanded, and Jean sat silently without another word. I could
hear Triage hissing behind me as he tightened his grip in my hair. He flung me
across the stage, and I hit a large speaker box with a thud. I slid to the
floor in pain, closing my eyes. I struggled to regain my breath. Goddess, help
me.
When I opened my eyes, Triage was standing above me, his fangs exposed, face
contorted. He crouched and I brought one foot up, planting it in his stomach,
pushing him back with all my might. He stumbled backward, and I rolled over,
jumping to my feet. I knew I should've brought that knife. He stood motionless,
trying to captivate me again.
"You're not the only one with a few tricks up their sleeve." I said, as I began
channel my power. I could feel my now loose hair floating from shoulders as I
lifted my hands, accepting the power of the earth. The skies rumbled angrily.
He didn't seem taken aback by my display of power. I don't think he truly
understood what I was capable of.
"Stop!" Vega's voice commanded, booming through the now quiet club. I turned to
look at Vega. Big mistake. Triage took this opportunity to get his hands on me.
Vega tried to put himself physically between us, which resulted in Triage
striking out at him. They scuffled for a moment, and I heard Vega gasp in pain.
"Ororo!" I heard Jean calling me from the side of the stage. She was waving my
gun around madly. It was nice to see her no longer under Triage's spell, but
the last thing she needed to do was blow someone's head off. I took the gun
from Jean, turning back to the fighting vamps. Triage pushed Vega away from him
and then turned back to me.
His face was normal now as he looked from me to the gun. "Would you really
shoot me?" He asked, trying to sound charming. I was no longer fooled. I had
seen through his façade, and he would never charm me again.
"In a heartbeat." I responded coldly.
"Please, don't shoot anyone, Ororo." Vega said in a cajoling voice. He waved
Triage toward the curtain. I followed Triage's retreating figure with the gun.
"This was not in the plans." Plans, what plans? I wanted to ask, but I just
held my gun up, ready to shoot whatever I felt threatened by -- including Vega.
Vega moved toward me slowly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I said, lowering the gun, looking him in those strange, green eyes.
I didn't feel anything. No pull, no connection, nothing. It was just like
looking in anyone else's eyes. "Put the gun away. You are no longer in danger
as long as I am here."
I reluctantly tucked the gun in the waistband of my pants and allowed Vega to lead
me behind the curtain. Once we were behind the curtain, he grabbed a man by the
arm. "You and the others have to erase this from their mind." The man nodded
solemnly. They were going to erase this event from all the women's minds, and
it was probably for the best. Not only would it keep Vega's club in business,
but it would protect my secret as well.
"You'd better make this good, Vega." I hissed, but I was looking at Triage who
seemed oh-so-smug about what happened out there. I should've shot him. In fact,
I was still flirting with the idea.
"You're not in control of this situation, Ororo. The cards lie in our hands. If
you act foolishly, you will endanger your friend, so you will have to hear me
out." Vega said, blocking my view of Triage.
As if being called, I saw Jean being escorted through the backstage area by one
of the waiters. She looked at me fearfully. I still don't think she was quite
aware of what happened. "Are you okay, Ororo?" She asked, eyeing Vega with
disdain.
"I am fine, Jean."
"I want to go home." Jean said, looking around, as if she suddenly realized the
place was evil.
"We'll be leaving soon, Jean. I promise." I said to her. I turned to Vega and
said. "I don't want Jean to be involved in whatever it is you're going to tell
me. I don't even want her to hear this conversation."
"I think she should hear it since she is now involved." Triage said laughing.
"No!" I said, my voice reverberating throughout the backstage. "I want her out
of this. Haven't you already done enough?"
"What is he talking about? What are you talking about?" Jean asked. She placed
her hands on her hips. She was getting angry, not that I blamed her.
"There's only one thing that can be done." Vega shrugged.
"Do it." I said.
"We're leaving." She grabbed my hand and spun around, but Triage spun her back
around and she looked at him. Jean's lips pursed as she readied herself to
blast him with heated words, but fell silent when she looked in his eyes. She
tightened her grip on my hand, and I shook my head sadly. She was fighting him
with everything she had, but it wasn't good enough.
She dropped my hand and stared vacantly at the wall. He wiped her mind of what
happened, just as the others were doing to the women out there. I wish they
could wipe away what happened to Jean as well, but that wasn't as simple. The
only way Jean would ever be free again is if Triage was killed, and I didn't
think I had the strength to do it.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I believe Mr. Toynbee has already told you what we want." Vega answered.
"And I refused. But you just couldn't be happy with that, could you? You had to
go and put someone I loved in it? You could've done a lot of things before you
did this." I said coolly.
"Time is a commodity we do not have much of. We did not have time for
persuasion tactics. Now," Vega said, waving toward Jean, "we know that you will
help us."
What I wanted to do was help them both die. Bastards. "Well, you've just hired
yourself an animator."
"I think we all know you're more than just an animator." Vega said with a wily
smile. I knew he was referring to the episode earlier where I'd almost used my
powers against Triage. "Your friend will not be harmed if you help us. I'll
expect to see you here tomorrow night at midnight."
"I'm supposed to trust you and Don Juan over there to your word? I am not
stupid."
"What other choice do you have?"
He was right. Damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I didn't like those odds,
but I had to keep pushing my luck. "I want guarantees from his master." I said,
pointing at Triage.
"I have no master." Triage answered, sounding slightly miffed.
"Are you kidding? I know you're older than Vega. I can tell from the way you
move and act, but unlike Vega, you are not your own master." I said. "If you
were your own master, I would've already been dead by your hands."
"There's no sense in trying to argue with her, Triage. She knows." Vega said.
"I think your simple request can be granted, Ororo."
Carmen appeared behind the curtains then, and I smiled at her brilliantly. She
looked uncertain. She had been a key player in this deception. She lured us
here for this to happen. Oh, how I wanted to make her feel the pain I was
feeling right now. "Hello, Carmen. Glad you could join the party." I said,
walking toward her.
"You can't harm her. She's under our protection." Vega said softly.
"Is that right? So, I can't play with the vampires' whore today. That's fine."
I shot back keeping my eyes on her.
My emotions threatened to war inside of me. I wanted to unleash all my fury on
Carmen, but I had to control myself. I looked Carmen in her eyes and she
smirked at me triumphantly. "I guess this is where the threat to kill me comes
in. Well, save it, darling. I'll only come back as one of them."
My radiant smile continued to cover my face, her own smile sliding from her
face as she watched my eyes cloud over. "If anything happens to Jean, there'll
be no coming back from what I'm going to do to you." Thunder punctuated my
sentence with a vociferous roar causing Carmen to jump. I blinked once. "Are we
clear?"
"Crystal," she whispered. I could see her pale under that tan, and she quickly
backed away from me.
Vega and Triage accompanied Jean and me outside. I hailed a cab, allowing Jean
to slide in first. The poor girl looked like the living dead (no pun intended).
Vega grabbed my hand before I got into the cab. I knew I should've snatched my
hand away from his. I didn't like vampires touching me. He rubbed thumb across
my skin, and I got the feeling he was trying to be seductive.
When he spoke his words came out with a note of regret, and here I was thinking
vampires had no ethics. "Remember, Ororo. You must meet us here tomorrow night,
or I can't promise your red-haired friend will see another sunrise. No
weapons."
Now, that was incentive enough to come back. I nodded and pulled my hand away
from his and slid into the cab beside Jean. I couldn't help looking back as we
pulled away from the club. If I were a lesser woman, I would've given them
one-finger salute, but that would've been childish (and possibly dangerous).
"I'm so tired, Ororo." Jean mumbled, and I allowed her to rest her head on my
shoulder. I stroked her hair lovingly, my heart nearly breaking as the
realization of what happened really begin to sink in. "So tired..." What was I
supposed to do now? I should have never left her at that club with that...
"Bitch." Jean finished for me.
She was reading my mind even in her tired state. I must have been giving off
some serious negative vibes at that moment. "Jean, please, don't read my mind.
Not now." I pleaded. Not now, anytime but now. I didn't need her finding out
what really happened to her, and I didn't want her to feel how afraid I really
was.
I should've made Jean come with me to the crime scene. She would've been angry,
but she would've been safe as well. This was my worse fear. I would've felt
better if he had just turned her. I know that sounds twisted, but she was just
a puppet now. She would continue to live her life normally, but she was now at
the beck of Triage. He could call her, and she would be helpless to his call.
She was now Triage's possession. It was unfair that she wouldn't even remember
becoming a vampire's new plaything.
Vampires just kept giving me reasons to hate them.
Soft snoring came from my side. She was sleep. How was I supposed to explain
this to Scott of all people? Jean would vaguely remember what happened tonight,
and I would be the one filling in the blanks for him. Scott and his
insufferable questions, the thought was enough to make me not want to go back
to the mansion. I knew I wouldn't tell him what happened tonight, and I would
feel awful keeping such pertinent information from him. However, what other
choice did I have? I couldn't tell him that I left his fiancée at a vampire
club, and that she was now the property of an age-old vampire.
"Don't worry, Jean." I whispered. "I'll get us out of this."
And I would.
