Rayflo flies through the night, descending from the hotel perched above the town. The midnight black bats whip through the streets till they find a nice dark alley to gather in. Rayflo emerges from the swarm, hair blowing haphazardly in the warm wind, shirt snapping at his skin. He glances back up at the hotel, trying to see through the walls to Chris. Unfortunately, he's not quite that gifted. He dispels his negative mood and tires to forget as he strolls out of the alley and down the street. Chris will just have to wait till he gets back if he wants to feed. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he leaves the hotel behind but he can't entirely drag his thoughts away from Chris.
As he walks Rayflo is surprised to find he feels perfectly at home in this old fashioned little town. The buildings all have an old feel, built of brick and plank wood they look like they came right out of the 18th century. Even though he's grown accustomed to the modern world and all its ways there will always be something about the past he will never really be able to shake off.
The streets are more or less disserted this late at night but there are a few people roaming around, though most are practically running to get to their destinations. Their heads are bowed, refusing to look anywhere other than straight ahead of them. This is probably a good thing though. A predator gauges its prey by the look in its eye.
Rayflo passes several taverns, warmth and laughter spilling from their open doorways. He's tempted to go in but it would be against all his better judgments. He hasn't had a drink in a while and even though his thirst is only mild it wouldn't be a good idea. It never used to bother him to lure some poor sucker out into a back alley for a decent meal, but nowadays he can't bring himself to do it. Maybe its Charley's influence or maybe he has just out grown such behaviour, though the former is far more likely. And anyway, he's not really in the mood to hang around humans right now.
He leaves behind the lights and sounds for the quieter shops, the kind that only runs in the daylight. He peers in a few windows, admiring a cute little parakeet that sleeps peacefully in his cage behind the glass. Everything still has the rustic feel, even this far into the town. It's like walking down a Victorian era street. It's the weirdest feeling.
Even though many stores that are full there's a lot that have been boarded up, smashed windows and doors covered with sheets of plywood. /The town seems to be having a bit of trouble.
A sharp bang catches his attention. He looks down the street to see golden light splashing out onto the street from a shop up ahead. A dark figure darts out and quickly shuts the door before racing down the street. Even in the dim lighting he can see the figure motoring towards him is a woman, long hair blustering about in the wind. Her head is down and she's clearing not looking where she's going.
As she gets closer an uneasy feeling washes over Rayflo. All Vampires have heightened perception compared to normal humans. Vibes that people give off are very good indicators of that person's intention. Just as he can sense other Vampires he can sense a Hunters presence or if someone is drunk. Anything that alters the psyche or produces a strong emotion can be sensed by an experienced Vampire. It's something of a survival instinct. And that's what this woman's vibe is, a strange, unstable feeling, like she's drunk but there's something else there. Maybe drugs, they will screw with you too.
He stops and watches the woman warily as she comes. When she's only a couple meters away she finally looks up.
Their eyes meet.
Rayflo catches his breath. Her black mop of hair covers half her face and the rest is obscured by a myriad of spiky metal pieces that jut like fish hooks from her skin. But that's not even the strangest thing about her or what captures his attention.
It's her eyes. They are deep pools of inky blackness, devoid of a soul almost. Nothing registers in her eyes as she looks at him but she stops. Rayflo doesn't want to hang around any longer, because even though he's a Vampire he's all too aware that he's not the scariest creature of the night lurking out there. She could be possessed by a demon or something equally frightening. He walks by her, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"Wait." She slurs and reaches out.
Rayflo steps away from her grasp but she still reaches out.
"Go. Go to…"
She points mindlessly down the street from where she came, hand waving up and down.
"Go…Go there."
She looks around, confused with herself for a moment before her eyes trail back to Rayflo. She hisses angrily then whips around and starts running away. Rayflo is left looking after her till she disappears in the darkness. Confused, he glances back to where she emerged from. He feels his curiosity flare up in him and when that happens he has no hope of ignoring it.
It can't hurt to look can it?
The store front is stranger looking than most. A board is nailed above the door. Painted in bold but shaky letters is the name, 'The Inn.' Their creativity knows no bounds. There are no windows, just the one very old door. Rayflo shrugs and decides to dive in head first, flinging the door open. The sudden bright light blinds him temporarily as he steps in.
The place is like how old Irish drinking pubs used to be, very simple and plain. It's a boring room, crowded with tables and stools that look like they've seen better days. Along one wall is the most beaten up bar top he's ever seen. Jars and high necked wine bottles sit delicately on a shelf behind the bar. All of them look in rough shape, chipped, a dusty couple canning jars among them. But there's something fishy about all of them. None of them bear a label and all are full of a thick red liquid. An unmistakable smell hits his nose a second later.
Blood.
Chris claims he can't smell the difference in any blood aside from his Master's but Rayflo is a little more perceptive, as most normal Vampires are but that generally only comes with experience. This is a Vampire Bar.
As he gingerly steps over the threshold he notices how the air saturated with the scent of many different bloods. It reminds him of a battle field where all sorts of blood is spilt, be it an old man's or a little girl's. The one clearly recognizable scent though, is that of very young children, from babies he'd guess. Rayflo feels a stab of guilt that he can recognize such a smell from the many times he's smelled it and the few times he's tasted it.
Drawing his attention away from the fascinating air, he focuses on the people filling the bar. The bloody smell almost masks their own equally appalling odour.
They all smell something like Vampires but nothing in a normal sense. There's something…off about them. He brushes by a woman. She nearly leaps out of her skin and jumps back. The group she's with all take a giant step back. Their sudden and violent movement causes Rayflo to back away as well. All of their eyes are on him, pure black pools of ink without a sparkle of life, just like the woman from the street. They eye him as if he were a wolf among sheep.
"Uh…good evening?"
They just stare, all consumed with him.
"Okay, uh, well, I'll go now."
The Vampires continue to stare blankly as he walks away, glancing nervously back.
Rayflo has been to Vampire-only bars before and many seedy ones at that but the ominous vibes in this place are unbelievable. Though there is some talking its in deep, low whispers. And everyone's eyes are black and dilated, like a druggie on a high, which even for a Vampire that's not normal. But just as there are human races there are also Vampire races, different people possessing distinctive traits. Transylvanian Vampires are inclined to have pointy ears while Mongolian Vamps have a high tolerance for the sun. But of all the Vampires he's ever encountered he would have to say he's never seen anything quite like these ones before.
And this is a lot of Vampires for such a small town.
There's got to be a good fifty Vampires packed into the room, sipping at drinks or sitting sullenly at tables. This place is many things but the one thing it isn't is 'fun.' Or even comfortable for that matter.
Rayflo feels eyes against his back so he turns to see, ready for a fight. But all that greets him is a man, soulless eyes staring holes in the back of his head.
"Hey there." Rayflo says, trying desperately to strike up a conversation…or at least get a word out of one of these guys.
The man just stares, mystified, looking him up and down but specifically staring at his eyes.
Rayflo sighs.
"Does anyone around here talk? At all?"
Shaking his head the man fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a small sealed plastic bag. The first thing that crosses Rayflo's mind is that he was right in it being drugs that has got these guys looking like this. The man presses the small packet into his hands and closes his fingers over it.
"What is it?" Rayflo asks, inspecting the pale pink pills.
The man tries to form words, looking up at the ceiling as if it has the answer.
"Take. Help you." He slurs and gets up.
He drifts away in a trance to the other side of the bar, like a dandelion seed in the wind. Or a man with the attention span of a gnat. Rayflo watches him suspiciously but he seems to have completely forgotten him. He gives the baggie one last look before stuffing it in his pocket. If anything it might help Chris with his investigation here. The human taverns are staring to look pretty good compared to this joint.
Looking around Rayflo feels his heart give a twinge. The place is half dead, so boring with nothing happening at all. He didn't come out to hang around with some messed up Vampires, he wants to have some fun.
"Well, I'm hitting the street." He mutters to no one but himself.
Chris was right, he is disappointed by this lack lustre town.
There's a commotion out on the street, the muffled sound of stomping boots echoing oddly around the room.
The door suddenly caves in with a mighty splintering and a bang. Four men charge through the door, massive rifles and hand guns clutched in their hands.
"Die, you fucking Vampires! Die!" The one at the front shouts.
Four guns are raised in unison. The barrel of one draws level with Rayflo's line of sight. His legs tense and he dives as fire spits out of the gaping black hole.
The man next to Rayflo collapses with a guttural cry. He stumbles back and ducks under the bar and rolls to safety. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins as he huddles there, screams and more shooting and shouting filling the air.
"Goddamnit." He mutters.
He's about to get on his hands and knees and crawl to where he can see when a sudden burning in his chest forces him back to the ground. He gasps and looks down at his chest. Right next to his heart is a smoking hole with blood pouring out of it. He's shocked as he watches his flesh burn and blood gush out. The pain builds in his chest like a bomb. Breathing suddenly becomes almost impossible, each breath a struggle. The world's noise seems to disappear and is replaced with a sharp ringing and the faltering beat of his heart. He collapses with a dull thud back to the floor.
"Shit." He curses into the floorboards.
Charley's eyes snap open and he lurches up. Sacra leaps up and barks at her Master's sudden movement, looking for trouble. His hands fly to his chest and clasp over his heart. It burns, like he's been shot. Gasping for breath and he looks at his chest and tentatively feels over his heart. There's no hole, no blood. The sudden pain gone as quickly as it came. But it felt so real, like someone drove a red hot poker straight through him.
Chest heaving, he slowly regains his composure.
"Was that a…dream?" He mutters aloud.
A chilly breeze blows through the open window and sends bone chilling shivers up his spine. He kicks his shoes off and dives under the covers. But even as he pulls the warm comforter around him his heart is still racing and his mind won't quiet down.
After tossing and turning for ten minutes he gets up and opens the curtains. It's still dark out, the middle of the night. Charley leans out the window to get a better look at the town below. Only a few lights shine feebly from behind curtains, other than that the town is shrouded in black. Everything looks fine. The wind carries the distant sound of drunken laughter, the ocean crashing against the beach and the sharp calls of seagulls. But he can't shake the feeling of trouble, then again he always gets this feeling when his Master is away. Does the man have to be so unpredictable? Charley sighs and leans against the sill, letting the cold wind wash over him. He listens carefully to all the small town noises. This place lacks all of the city's hustle and bustle and the night sounds he's come to associate with the immoral and sordid. Like the sounds of hookers trying to pick up someone, the honk of horns and quiet padding of foot steps as someone makes their way home in the dark. All of these sounds are gone, replaced with more natural sounds.
As he listens he tries to calm his heart down enough to return to the warmth of the covers but can't seem to drag himself away. It reminds him of long ago when he was just a fledgling. He and Master stayed in a sea side town like this one. The experience nearly killed him and surely traumatized the elder Vampire but he can't help but associate these sounds with it. After a while he realizes and accepts that sleep has abandoned him and won't be coming back. He drags a chair to the window, leans back and waits.
Rayflo lies there, gasping for breath. The ringing subsides and is replaced by the methodical clumping of boots on the wooden floor. An indistinct voice mutters something followed by an ear splitting bang. Rayflo flinches and even that small action hurts like hell. Something thrashes on the floor and gives a strangled cry before all falls silent. The clumping starts getting louder. He tries to hide himself further under the bar.
He manages to crawl to his elbows just as the man rounds the corner. He would look up but at that moment blood fills his mouth and he coughs. It pools on the floor in alarming amounts, running between his fingers and under his palms.
"Well well, there's on little sucker left alive." A gruff but heavily accented voice snarls. A gun cocks and Rayflo's head snaps up, eyes widening to epic proportions as the gun is shoved against his forehead.
This is bloody it, he realizes with something like horror but also acceptance. The one thing he regrets is not saying goodbye. Chris will be devastated. His Vassal's face flashes before his minds eye one last time. Rayflo looks into the Hunter's, savouring these final moments of life. His heart pounds furiously and his wounds burn but he tries to ignore it all and just reflect, trying to not cough. Got to go out with a little dignity, he thinks.
Suddenly the Hunter's own eyes widen in shock.
"Oh dear god." He whispers. His hands shake and his gun clatters to the ground.
Rayflo tries to heave a gasp of air but ends up heaving more blood onto the floor.
"Oh my God! I shot a human!" He wails. "Don't worry, I'll go get help! Stay here!"
I'm not a human. Rayflo protest silently, wondering what he could possibly mean by that.
All he knows is he's got to get out of here. The silver bullet is wedged against the side of his ribs under his arm, burning a hole in him and anchoring him in human form. The damn bullet cut a burning trial through his lung, barley missing his aorta to lodge up against his side rib. If that little metal ball had been two millimetres to the right he would have been a dead man. But he just might end up that way none the less. The wound won't fully heal till he gets that bullet out.
He crawls to his knees with great difficulty, retching up at least two bucketfuls of blood doing so, and grabs the bar ledge to hauls himself up.
Even in his pain filled haze he's shocked at the scene before him. The floor is littered with bodies, blood spilt like water, staining the floor boards a permanent red with the toxic Vampire blood. But even so, there's not as many bodies as there were Vampires just a minute or two ago. Some must have escaped, he reasons.
Whoever the murderers were that caused this, they're gone now, though one seems to have made his final stand here. A corpse clutching a gun is bent over a table, a couple Vampire bodies piled on top of him. Rayflo chuckles weakly and immediately regrets it.
His mind switches to survival mode, contemplating and running various scenarios quickly through his head. The pain is so intense. The slightest movement causes blood to gush from his chest like a fountain. The silver residue along the wound and the lack of fresh blood is delaying his healing abilities. It's a Catch-22. The more blood he loses the more his thirst grows and the less his healing abilities work.
"Goddamnit, goddamnit." He mutters.
Clamping one hand over the hole in his chest, he stumbles for the door.