----
A.N Wheee. Beware. Much more sexual/adult conversations/jokes in this chapter. Only they're of the homosexual kind. Ehehehehe. So fun. XD Oh dear, I added another character at the last minute… but he's only ever said a few sentences, and I fell in love with him, so I must see him again before tragedy befalls that little party… T.T
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Eighteen: To Hell We Ride
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Alone.
An empty plain, the sky blood red, the four moons shining down their strange coloured light onto the world. Blue-green and brown – very strangely coloured moons indeed, but moons they were.
Walking. Stumbling. The ground beneath parched and cracked, hard as stone in some places yet soft as sand in others.
A rumbling.
Look up.
In the distance, a cloud…
A shadow.
A dark shadow.
One in front. The darkest shadow of them all. The largest. The strongest.
Then Annie. Standing before me. Reaching for me. Pointing at something.
Turn around.
Perri.
Terrifyingly angry.
Duck as she swings a punch towards me.
"Wake up, ass!" Her voice echoes. "You have to save us!"
Wake up.
Alone.
----
Pain raced through my body, a blunt, heavy feeling that weighed me down. I groaned loudly and rolled over, only to cough painfully when I found my face in a pile of dust.
Spluttering, I sat up and rubbed my head.
I was in a dark room. On the hard floor. For a second, I had no idea where I was.
And then…
And then…
I checked my watch. It was four in the afternoon. We had gone into the house at three in the morning…
With a loud cry of frustration, I jumped to my feet, whirled around, and began punching the wall.
"Goddammit" I yelled, continuing to bash a hole through the wall. I felt the skin on my knuckles break under my gloves, but I didn't stop – I kept punching away, my anger and frustration completely filling me. In fact, I couldn't stop, as if some strange force had taken over me and turned me berserk.
And then the rage released me, my head clearing enough for me to realise that there was blood welling up underneath my gloves, making my hands feel hot and sticky.
With a load gush that sounded more like a groan than a sigh, I slid to the ground, one hand still on the wall, the other supporting me. My cheeks were wet with tears that I hadn't noticed appear, spilling down onto the ground in fat, heavy drips. My nose ran.
"Damn, damn, damn!" I groaned.
"It's not the end of the world, you know," a voice said.
I sprang to my feet, my hands going up in a defensive position.
"Who's there?" I asked, glancing around frantically.
"My name is of no concern," the voice continued. It was young, but at the same time ancient. It had the quality of a rusted bell – once loud, cheerful and musical, now rusted away to a small, dry sound, monotonous and sad. There was something missing, too – the accent was odd. It sounded familiar, but at the same time, there were elements of the accent that were not supposed to mix together – a stressed 'r' here, a drawn out vowel there, a roll of the tongue somewhere else. But the main part sounded so… so like someone else's accent, someone who I'd grown so used to that I hardly noticed the difference of it…
Then the person stepped into view.
It was the hooded stranger.
"You!" I hissed, tensing up. The figure inclined his head in what I guess was a nod. "What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you to wake up. Now that you have, I can hand you your weapons back." Almost immediately, the person was directly in front of me, holding out my sword and chain in one strong, pale white hand.
"The chain isn't mine," I said blankly.
"It is a good weapon, though. With a bit of practice, you could become very deadly with it. And it is not as suspicious as a large sword hanging by your side."
"How so?"
"It can always pass off as an accessory, albeit a large one. You do have the whole 'gothic punk' appearance to you. Especially with that grey hair."
Eyeing the figure warily, I snatched my weapons back, slipping the sword back into its hilt and looping the chain through my jeans, like a belt. The whole time, the figure just watched me, never talking or moving.
"Now what?" I asked. Cloth rustled – I think the figure was looking away.
"You have less than twelve hours to find Perri."
"I know that!"
"Do you even know where to look?"
This time it was my turn to look away.
"No."
The person took a step backwards.
"Go back to the place of the wise one. The answer is there."
"'The place of the…' What the hell?" I asked. The figure's shoulders drooped.
"Just find the place of the wise one." The figure turned to walk away, but at the last minute he turned back slightly to peer over his shoulder at me. There was a slash of pale against the darkness – his face. "You might want to have a shower and grab a bite to eat before you go. Sugar is always good. Sugar equals instant energy."
And with that, he was gone.
For some reason, the last thing he said rang in my ears, as if I had heard it somewhere before, from someone much different, from a time long ago.
I groaned.
"What the hell was all that about?"
----
Three hours later, I was pacing back and forth in the hotel room so furiously that I almost began to wear away the carpet. My hair – which was not going grey, thank you very much – was still wet from the shower I had just had. I was munching away at a chicken dumpling – on the floor around me were crunched up packets of other food, mostly dumplings and doughnuts.
"'The place of the wise one…'" I mumbled, deep in thought. "Where else had we been?"
Now that I was refreshed and energised, my mind could work at its normal speed. However, no matter how hard I could think, I couldn't work out what the little hooded figure had meant.
"A wise one… seers were considered wise… a seer was like an oracle, or a fortune teller…" I mused, my mind ticking away. "In some societies, they were highly honoured…"
Crunching up the scrap of paper, I threw it over my shoulder and collapsed onto the couch, glaring down at the ground.
"Highly honoured… who were highly honoured…?"
For the first time in my whole life, I wished I had paid attention in ancient history.
The next half an hour, all I did was think, swapping between pacing and sitting, thinking so hard that my head began to hurt. I knew the answer – I knew I knew the answer – but it stayed at the back of my brain as all things did, refusing to come out of its little crease.
But for some strange reason, my mind wouldn't tell me the answer, holding it back and instead wandering back to the events of two nights ago… pounding music… the world coloured strangely green and black… Annie in front of me, her eyes crinkled in mischief…
"I'd heard it means 'hermaphrodite'…" Perri's voice whispered in my ear.
Something in my head clicked, like a switch turning on the light bulb that appeared above my head.
With a load groan, I slapped my forehead.
"Of course!" I cried. "He said he'd be there all week!" As I reached for my jacket, I paused, frowning. "But what do hermaphrodites have to do with being wise?"
----
I counted every minute I wasted getting to the nightclub. For some reason, time was everything to me – maybe it was because I was given a twenty-four hour limit, and I had already wasted sixteen of those precious hours. I never said I was the punctual type.
It took me thirty-two minutes to get to the nightclub, and a further seventeen and a half to get inside. Once I was in, however, I strode straight up the stairs, and walked straight over to the blonde man sitting alone in his booth, sipping at a drink. He didn't look up when I approached.
"Where is he?!" I growled, slamming my hands onto the table. Kurda Smahlt looked up at me, almost innocently.
"Hello to you too, Steve. Who are you looking for?" He asked. I growled, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to his feet.
"You know bloody well who I mean, dammit!"
"No, I don't quite think…"
I shook him, my arms shaking with the effort. People around us were beginning to stare.
"Marcus, dammit! Where the hell is Marcus?!"
"Is everything all right, Kurda?" A new voice asked, and another man stepped into view, looking tense. I glared at him from the corner of my eyes, my hands never leaving Kurda's collar.
"Who're you?' I growled.
"Steve, I'd like you to meet Daegan," Kurda said, not in the least worried that I was attempting to lift him from the ground. "My assistant and closest companion."
I inspected the newcomer. He glared at me right back, his brightly green eyes never leaving mine. Despite his lack of height and elfin appearance, every part of his small body simmered with aggression, as if he was determined to protect Kurda no matter what.
And then it hit me.
Maybe it had something to do with the styled-look of his wavy sand-coloured hair. Or his almost 'cute' appearance. The almost protective 'purr' as he said Kurda's name. Or the fact that his button down shirt was largely unbuttoned to show off his bare chest, he was wearing leather pants - and was standing in a way that vaguely reminded me of the way Perri and Annie stood.
Or maybe it was all of that. Either way, I knew he was about as straight as a circle.
Oh dear.
I glanced from Daegan to Kurda.
He was his 'closest companion'.
I felt sick.
Shoving Kurda away, I stepped back, shaking my head.
"God, I'm dealing with a pair of gay vampires."
"Got a problem with that?" Daegan asked, stepping forward, but Kurda put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"That's enough, Elf," he said softly. "He needs our help."
Daegan glared at me. Then he backed down, stepping closer to Kurda and looking away. In an instant his aggression disappeared, replaced by what seemed like meekness.
"Of course. Sorry."
"'Elf'?" I snickered. Daegan – 'Elf' – stepped forward once more, his hands bunching up into fists.
"You little…"
"Daegan…" Kurda said softly, barely audible over the heavy beat of the music. Once more, he shot a dark look my way then backed down, his hands lowering to his sides.
"I don't understand why we're helping him anyway," I heard him say softly. Kurda looked at him and replied, so quietly that I didn't hear what he said, but I was certain he said the name 'Marcus'. Whatever it was cleared it up for Daegan, because he didn't say a thing afterwards.
A man of Arnold Schwarzenegger proportions sidled up, his muscles threatening to burst from underneath his green muscle shirt, the word 'Sicherheit' boldly emblazoned on the front. The white letters shone in the eerie light – it wasn't hard for me to guess he was a bouncer.
The bouncer took one look at the three of us, decided we were foreigners, and said in slow, pronounced, surprisingly good English:
"Take your problems outside, bitte."
I couldn't help but glare at the muscle-bound bouncer. He glared right back, his beady eyes twinkling in the strobe lights. Kurda, however, smiled at the man, grabbed his glass from the table, tipped it in a salute, and then sculled it in one gulp. Then he turned to Daegan.
"Let's go, then," he said cheerfully, and glanced at me, the cheer never leaving his blue eyes. "Are you coming, Steve?"
Then he was off, disappearing into the crowd towards the entrance. Daegan followed soon after, sending me a dirty look. With a dejected sigh, I glared at the bouncer once more, and followed the two vampires. All the way to the exit, I felt his beady eyes burning into my back, as if to make sure I knew never to come back with problems in 'Zwitter' ever again.
Bastard.
----
It took me another twenty-four minutes and thirteen seconds to actually get Kurda to stop. I know. I was counting the time.
"Where are we going?" I asked, reaching forward and gripping the vampire's elbow. He stopped, a half-smile creeping onto his chilly features.
"You've wasted enough time moping already, Steve," he said simply. "Where did you think I was taking you?"
I glanced around. We were in what looked like an industrial area, mainly warehouses and containers. More stereotypical settings. I noticed, to our left, was a railing, the type that seals off a large drain way, also known as a half-pipe by those who liked to skate. Several metres ahead, there was a break in the rails, stairs nestled between them to lead down to the pipe below.
I released his arm and glanced once more at my watch.
"How long will it take us to get there?"
Kurda and Daegan exchanged amused looks. I felt irritated.
"Why, we're already there."
I blinked. Kurda just smiled and shrugged.
"Follow me, Steve." Then he strode forward and descended the stairs, disappearing into the night.
I went to follow Kurda, but before I could, Daegan stepped in my path. I could have easily pushed him out of the way – had he not been a vampire.
"If anything happens to Kurda down there because of you…" he trailed off, supposedly leaving me to think of whatever threat I wanted.
"What, you'll make me watch a gay porn movie with you?" I growled. I paused, then leaned forward slightly, squinting in the flickering light of the broken street lamp. "Are you wearing eyeliner?"
Daegan glared at me for a second, then he glanced away.
"Shut up. It brings my eye colour out." He looked up, frowning slightly, a triumphant look in his eye. "You're meant to be a macho guy – how the hell do you know what eyeliner is?"
"…I've lived with three different women during the course of my life, and two of them love dark, heavy makeup. Shut up."
"Steve, are you coming?" Kurda called.
"I hope to hell you're asking if I'm following and not anything else, Kurda!" I called back.
"Don't make me come back up there!"
"Come right ahead, Kurda," Daegan piped up from behind me.
"Oh, god, enough with the 'come's already!" I cried.
"…homophobe."
"Yes, I am, and proud to be too. Just be happy that you're a vampire, otherwise I'd be bashing your faggoty little ass here and now."
"…sorry, Steve, but you're too young for me, even if you have grey hair. The premature hair colour thing… it's just not my type. And anyway, this isn't exactly the best of places for that sort of behaviour, is it?"
I threw my hands up in the air in defeat.
"Goddammit, I give up already! Just take me to the damned place, will you?"
Daegan smirked, folding his arms.
"I don't think I should let you pass if you're going to be that grateful."
I stepped forward, grabbing a handful of his loose shirt.
"Look, you little asshole…"
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. I didn't like that little smile on his face. It made me feel uneasy. I understood why the next second.
"Now, is that your sword or are you just that happy to see me?" He asked evilly, and looked down to exaggerate his point.
I dropped him, groaned loudly, and bashed my head against the telegraph pole next to us.
"I'll lead, Steve, you're in the middle, and Daegan can bring up the rear. Please don't share your dirty thoughts with us, Elf." Kurda called. He had climbed the stairs again and was looking at us, clearly amused.
"Awww…"
"Yes, I'd enjoy that too, but I'm sure Steve wouldn't appreciate it."
I jumped away from the pole to look at Kurda bewilderedly. "What?!"
"What's wrong now Steve?"
"A lot of things! I don't want him staring at my ass the whole time, for one!"
"Hey, I worked as a dock worker once, watching overweight men bend over and show off their ass cracks all day long. Do you think I enjoyed that? Please. There's only one ass I go for, and quite frankly, I don't want you staring at it all the way along!"
"…Oh God, that was just too much unwanted information."
"You 'assed' for it."
"Oh, that was hilarious, Daegan. Clap clap."
"Yes, I thought you'd enjoy it, Steve."
"Steve," Kurda called. I turned to look at him. He was still standing on the stairs, leaning on the rail. "Did Peregrine ever tell you her story?"
"No," I said slowly. "I guess… she was never ready to tell me."
"Well, I know her story."
"You do? How?"
"She told me. When we first met."
"But – can you…?"
"Yes, I will tell you. On two conditions."
"What are they?"
"Firstly, stop complaining. Secondly, get your little ass down here so we can get moving already."
I groaned.
"Enough with the ass cracks already!" I paused, then gave another loud groan as Daegan snickered behind me. "Look, you've got me doing it now too! Goddammit!"
Kurda just rolled his eyes, turned, and disappeared down the stairs again. I sighed, shaking my head and slouching my shoulders as Daegan waited for me to follow him.
"What have I gotten myself into…?" I groaned, then went down the steps, taking them two at a time.
"You haven't seen anything yet," Daegan said behind me. I glanced behind to look at him – but he had looked away, his face serious. I noticed then that he, too, had a set of scars on his left cheek, all close set, and almost identical to Kurda's.
"God, are you that in love with him that you wanted to have identical scars?" I growled. Daegan glared down at me, but didn't say a thing.
Reaching the slightly damp bottom, we found Kurda standing several metres ahead, where the 'half-pipe' ended abruptly, sealed off by a large wall of bars. He stood next to what looked like a door, also made of bars. There was a dark-haired man next to him, standing on the other side of the bars, wielding a sharp spear and an even sharper grin. Kurda glanced up at the moon, half hidden amongst the clouds.
"Time's ticking away, Steve!" He called. Eyeing this new man warily, I approached the two of them.
"Steve, this is Puck, another of my apprentices," he said once Daegan and I had reached them. Puck stepped forward and stuck his hand out towards me.
"Nice ta meet'cha!" He said happily. I eyed his hand with distaste. He raised an eyebrow, then glanced at the other two. "Oooh. You told him, didn't you?"
"He found out himself," Daegan said with a shrug. "I've no idea how though."
Puck rolled his eyes, and grinned at me.
"Yeah, like it isn't obvious, little elf-" Daegan bristled at that, but Kurda stopped him before he could do anything drastic "- anyway, don't worry, I'm completely and utterly into women." He chuckled. "They're so much… nicer… than men. So soft and curvy and cute and yet so naughty."
I couldn't help but grin at Puck, once I'd found out he was as normal as a vampire could be. Instead, I shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you indeed." I told him.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you from Daegan." Puck grinned, and then turned to the other two.
"So, are we off now? I'd been waiting here for ages," he said. I frowned.
"This was… planned?" I asked softly. The three vampires exchanged glances. Kurda was the one who answered.
"I am only doing as Marcus requests, Steve," he said, then started down through the sewers.
"Wait – what Marcus requests?" I asked, running to keep up with him. "What, you're doing Marcus' dirty work, now?"
"No," he said steadily. "I'm simply doing him a favour in return for some help I have asked of him. Now do you want to learn about Peregrine or not?"
Glaring, I fell back into a slower pace. I could hear Daegan and Puck walking behind me. I hoped Puck was the one breathing down my neck.
"What made her…?" I trailed off, not knowing what to say next. As we walked, the light from the moon and street began to face, eventually leaving us in the darkness known as the sewers. I could hear water sloshing, dripping, flowing, and somewhere, a quiet, skittering sound as rats' claws scrambled over ancient concrete. While I couldn't see a thing, I knew the vampires could. Lucky them.
"What made her the way she is today?" Kurda asked from ahead of me. I nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see me. Luckily, he continued anyway. "Well, a lot of things contributed, really – but I guess you want me to concentrate on her depression and passionate hatred for Marcus, correct?"
"Just get on with it!" Puck called good-naturedly. I was relieved to hear that his voice came from directly behind me.
"All right, all right," Kurda sighed, then paused. "There's a corner here – careful, you don't want to fall into the water."
After we had successfully manoeuvred around the corner, Kurda launched into the story. Perri's story.
"She lived in a peaceful little sea town, or so she told me. Her family had only been there for a year or so – her father had retired early to build his dream home before his heart collapsed on him. Anyway, she was attending the local high school, her older sister going to the nearby university campus and her brother finding a job. As in everything, all was peaceful, even with Peregrine's unruly boyfriend Wesley and his little brother Tobias always crowding the house.
"However, as all stories must go – since the basic structure for a story is the beginning, the conflict, and the conclusion – that peace was not to last – watch your step, by the way. A family was found in their home, all brutally murdered in the classic vampaneze way. Police search everywhere for clues – but none were found. Six days later, a young couple and their sixth month old baby were also found, dead, drained of their blood. Again, there were no clues.
"And then it happened. Tobias had stayed over Peregrine's house – family trouble, you see, they wanted their youngest son away from all of that. When he went home the next morning -"
"His entire family was dead, yes, yes, I got it." I growled, getting bored.
"You have no idea how boring you sound right now, Kurda," Puck piped up. A second later, there was the sound of flesh on flesh, closely followed by a yelp – I guess Daegan had slapped him.
"Fine, I'll hurry it up then." Kurda sighed. I could hear the pout on his voice. Oh well. His fault for taking so long to tell the story. "Well, anyway, Tobias had previously been marked as a victim – and vampaneze don't like to miss a victim, especially this particular vampaneze. So they hunted him down and marked their next victims: the Walters family."
Puck yawned loudly.
"Oh shush you," Daegan hissed.
"What?"
Slap.
"You slap like a girl."
Another slap.
"Let me guess," I said. "The vamp came in, killed Perri's family, killed Toby, and left? Where does Marcus come into all of this?"
"Well, Marcus was the leader of the little vampaneze gang that liked to travel the land and reap whatever it could sow. Peregrine's town just happened to be it."
"But why… why didn't he kill her?"
Kurda fell silent for a moment.
"That… I'm not quite sure about. Maybe he struck a deal with her? Maybe someone persuaded him to spare her life, though I doubt that. Who knows the workings of Marcus' inner mind? Not me, that's for sure. However, that was the conflict – she spent the next eleven years looking for Marcus, and now she has found him." There was a flicker of movement ahead – I think he had turned to face me. "Will the conclusion of her story be tonight?"
"I think we're getting close," Puck, unusually serious now, called. In front of me, Kurda paused. I walked into him, almost causing us both to fall into the sewerage. I think Puck was right – there was a faint light up ahead.
"What happens now?" I asked, watching the soft light glowing faintly on the brick walls.
"Now, you get to meet the Fuhrer…"
This time, it wasn't Puck who had spoken.
----
A.N Mwuahahaha! Cliffy! XD! Go me, go me!
Just as a note, hermaphrodites were considered wise and special by some ancient culture or another, because of their apparent lack of sex drive. It's strange what you stumble across while wandering the vast expanse of information known only as the Internet.
By the way, the little Hooded Stranger is neither Gannon nor Darren. However, his identity will be revealed next chapter… and he will hold a very, very important role later…
Jamie Prongs: Hehe, 'Susan's House' is the name of a song by The Eels. XD. I just randomly chose the song because I liked it… hehe…
S-A: Hmmm… is it? Is it really him? And is she really dead yet? XD. And thankyou! – blushes some –
Oh, and I forgot to mention:
This chapter was dedicated to Die Kikyo Die for being my 100th reviewer! THANKYOU! – uber-glomps you – Also, by 'Darren-action', I mean that don't worry, Darren won't die. Yet. The story itself – well, read the end of this page and you shall see. Ehehe. He'll have a huge part in it, too. Whee, much fun torturing innocents.
He'll also be in a future story, once I have finished both this diary and Annie's. It will come. Eventually. XD
I'd also like to take a moment to wish Love Psychedelico luck in her upcoming HSC/QSE/whatever-they're-called-in-Queensland year. Luck, Delico, and may you be triumphant even in death! …er… a little too morbid, right?
Also…. HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY (is that the right adjective…?) AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE! OI OI OI! (Yesh, I'm allowed to say this, since it is 3 in the morning. Hehe!)
----
Next Chapter:
Nineteen: Change (In The House of Flies)
"I will strike a deal with you, Steve," Marcus said, his long arms folded neatly in front of him, his even longer fingers stroking the side of his face in thought. "If you come with me, I will give you everything you ever dreamed. I will give you the power to fulfil your blood oath. And," he paused, letting the word hang in the air as he smiled wickedly, "I will let the ladies go. Only if you agree to stay with me."
I stood, looking from him to where Perri and Annie sat, bound, gagged. Their eyes were screaming out to me. They wanted me to say no.
But… I…
My left hand began to burn. I looked down at the scar, and indeed, it was bright red, reminding me of my choice, of my oath, of my destiny
I looked up.
And made my decision.
----
Coming Soon:
Discordant Melody –
Second Movement
"Falling down
The mirror is everywhere
Reflecting back
Everyone.
I see you, I see me
As we once were
Broken scream
Broken glass
Yet still the mirror reflects –
What was, what is, what should be
You and me
Eternity.
Eternity…"
It was impossible to ignore him now. He had kneeled down next to me, placed a large, tough hand on my arm. The knife froze in mid air. I raised my deadened eyes to meet the holes where his once were.
"Daegan…" He said softly, almost worriedly, almost… gently. I bowed my head.
"I do not know who Daegan is." I said, just as softly as he.
"Oh, that's right," he said, his strange gentleness gone. "You're Elwyn, now. Elwyn Banning. But whatever happened to Daegan McCarthy?"
Quiet.
I watched the blood well from the cuts on my arm. Watch. Dark. Heavy.
Beautiful.
"Daegan McCarthy died the same day his prince died."
