The Darkhold
Chapter II
Friends In Low Places
Damien casually walked out of the abandoned building after killing one of the Pure Blood higher ups. He spotted the van he came in parked across the street where he had left it. Curiously he didn't see any sign of Saint.
"Oh great, what's that bible thumpin bastard up to now?" he thought.
Cautiously he approaches the van and looks inside. Damien opens the door and searches the interior of the van but finds nothing out of place.
"Where the fuck did he…"
Suddenly he feels the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed up against his neck. The cocking sound of a hammer was swift to accompany it. Saint stood poised behind Damien, jamming the barrel of the pistol ever harder into his backside.
"Sainty, that you buddy. Listen I understand that took a little longer than expected but…"Damien says.
"Shut up you ridiculous vampire. Your childish antics draw unnecessary attention to our activities. I should kill you right now for risking exposure to the Darkhold. I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death." said Saint.
Damien smirked slightly at this. Saint, whose real name was Marcos Valencia, wasn't exactly all there. He was spoke very little, as did Blade, and whenever he did speak, he had this little habit of always quoting from the book of Revelation, which in fact earned him the nickname of Saint. Saint was a regular Sapien(Human) and was an experienced hunter for over twenty years. Saint hated vampires almost as much as Blade did, and he wasn't particularly thrilled to be partnered with a vampire such as Damien. The young Pure Blood was careful not to underestimate his partner, as he could snap at any moment. Still he never thought Saint would actually pull something like this.
"Look Sainty, I know you're a little peeved, but they say Prozac is great for that kinda thing." said Damien.
Damien's humor tended to get him in trouble more often than it got him out. This was mostly a defense mechanism on his part. Most of the Darkhold members intensely distrusted him because of his very nature, including Blade. Hell, he couldn't help what he was born as and he was just as much dedicated to the destruction of all vampires as they were, even if he had to die as well. Wry humor was just his way of coping with his current situation.
Damien felt the barrel of the gun slowly ease away from his neck until he didn't feel it anymore. He lowered his hands and looked at Saint.
"Good boy, did you go to your happy place?" asked Damien.
Saint quickly raised his pistol, again jamming into Damien's temple.
"Just kiddin man, gees. You know you definitely need some anger management." said Damien.
"Don't further try my patience vampire. Get in the vehicle." said Saint.
That was another thing about Saint, he absolutely refused to call Damien by his name. He would always address him as the "The Vampire". As much as Damien tried to get through to Saint and the others, they would probably always see him as just a bloodsucking monster who just happened to be helping them out.
Saint and Damien climbed into the old van and shut the doors. Saint didn't utter a word, which was the norm for him, and began checking for any incoming signals on a mounted computer screen on the dash board.
"Young man, what have I told you about those porn sites." said Damien trying to lighten the mood.
Saint just shot a cold glance at Damien and went back to checking for any signals. A small mounted camera began flashing, indicating a signal from the network. The Darkhold didn't have any central base of operations, just sporadic signals sent to one another in either distress or info layouts. A voice gauge appeared on the monitor and a recognizable voice came over the tele-feed.
Saint activated voice command "Speak" head said.
"Yea good to hear your voice to Saint. How'd everything go at the apartment building?" said the voice.
"Perhaps you should ask the vampire…" said Saint.
"Aww, hey even vampires have feelings to. So Castillo, how'd it go" asked the voice.
Damien turned the monitor to face him "Well you know how these things go King. You barge in, take a few of the bastards down, scare the shit out of the only one left, kill em with a solar hand shake, come outside and have Saint jam a gun into the back of my neck…all pretty much in a day's work."
"Um, glad to hear it. Saint buddy you have seriously got to stop pointing guns at people man." said Hannibal King.
"What was it you contacted us for King?" asked Saint impatiently.
"Well I thought you guys could give us a hand over here at Club Diablo. Looks like we gotta whole mess of bloodsuckers in here. No offense Castillo." said King.
"Oh come on you gotta do better than that to hurt my feelings King. You could try leech, parasite, hell I would even take amoeba. But bloodsucker I…" said Damien.
Saint turned the monitor towards him interrupting Damien as he still spoke "Were on are way King."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
As Saint and Damien drove on, the latter's mind began to drift. He smiled as he thought about Hannibal King and how the two seemed to hit it off as soon as they met. Both of them were the Patriarchs of the wisecrack and had it down to a near science. The two of them shared a lot in common as King was once a vampire himself and understood what it was like. But unlike King, Damien could never hope to be treated with a cure. He was born a vampire, it was part of his genetic code. He was the true Hominus Nocturna, that he could never escape.
King was the only one who seem to actually trust Damien in spite of what he was. Through their endless jokes and numerous scrapes together, King learned to look past Damien's vampire exterior and see him for himself, on the inside. A chance that no one else seemed to give him, including Blade. He was glad he had a friend like to King to rely on.
As his mind drifted, the van pulls up to a street corner across the way from a popular night club. The neon sign glinted as hordes of people waited in line to get in. The sign read "Club Diablo". Saint hacked into the voice feed and attempted to contact King.
Suddenly King's voice comes over the monitor "Damn, what took you guys so long" ?
"Never mind, where do you want us to meet you?" said Saint.
"Sneak around the back lot, there's an entrance hidden in a underground stairwell. I'll meet you there." said King.
Moments later both Saint and Damien were crouched near the dumpster at the backside of the club. They were surveying the area to see if any activity was taking place. They didn't want to compromise their position.
"Ok, it's been about ten minutes, no sign of anyone following us. I think it's safe." said Damien.
No sooner had he uttered those words than the sound of two gun slides being cocked, broke the silence. Saint chambered the rounds on his two USP Glocks and holstered them in his arm compartments. When it came to being armed, Saint made the average commando look like a school boy. In addition to his Glocks, he carried two semi-automatic pistols in his calf holsters, two Berretta PX4 40's tucked in the back of his pants, a Daly compact strapped to his ankle and a Tactical Pump twelve gauge shot gun slung over his shoulder, concealed by his trench coat. In sequence he began to chamber and cock all his weapons.
Damien stared on in amazement as Saint seemed to pull a gun out of every nook and cranny "Jesus, just how many fucking guns do you have?"
"Would you care to find out?" asked Saint sinisterly.
"Well Sainty I'll tell you this…you put a whole new spin on the word paranoid." said Damien.
Silently the two creep over to the hidden stairwell and climb down it to a door obscured by trash strewn about.
"King, are you there…" whispers Damien.
"Who is it?" asks the voice on the other side of the door.
Saint responds to this by pumping the gauge of his shot gun loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the side of the door. Moments later the door inches open and there stand King armed with his Sun Dog pistol.
"You seem to have that affect on people don't you Saint. What the fuck took you guys so long?" asked King.
"Well I just couldn't find anything to wear." said Damien as he and Saint strode in.
Damien did a double take on King's attire. It consisted of a flashy blazer, matching pants and club type shoes.
"Wow King, nice get up." comments Damien.
"Hey gimme a fuckin break, I had to get in some how." responds King.
"No I mean it, you look very thhhexy" says Damien imitating a gay voice.
"Thhtop it" says King as he bats his eyes mockingly.
Saint pushes his way past the two wise crackers "Idiots".
King and Damien just shrug and follow Saint to the main entranceway that leads into the club. Soon the loud noise and vibrations of loud techno type music fill the hallway. Strobe lights of all colors flood the corridors and soon the dace floor becomes visible, crawling with wild and sexually charged vampires dancing to their heart's content.
"Nice huh?" says King.
"One of Frost's leftovers I presume" says Damien.
"Yup, the new Vampire Nation thought it would be a good front house for distribution if you know what I mean" says King.
Damien sways his neck and cracks his knuckles "Well what are we waiting for…let's get this party started." says King.