Rating: M for language, gore, and possibly other stuff.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that was in the movie Lost Boys. Not in movie? Mine. In movie? Theirs. I also do not own 'We Built This City' by Starship.
A/N: I had this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone. It's a little hard to work on another fic when an idea won't shut up. So I'll get this out and then finally finish the chapter for my other fic. Sorry guys!
Thicker than Water
Chapter One: It's all about the Mentality
Santa Carla was the home of monsters at night.
There was no obvious distinction between the day and night. No sign that said "Watch out after 8:00 o'clock." There was only a chill coming off of the ocean and a heady thrum of pulsing bodies as music echoed along the boardwalk.
It was instinctive that those who cared for their lives would gradually leave, group by group, families then couples then friends, until only the brave, the foolish, and the dangerous remained.
This made Santa Carla the perfect place for the Lost Boys to hunt.
The sun's final rays were gently caressing the boardwalk's rides and the beach front.
At Hudson's Bluff, sunk into the very fabric of the land, the carcass of a once opulent hotel was barely visible inching out through the overgrown brush surrounding it.
A set of rickety wooden stairs with a large chain above the first steps wrapped around the handrails led into the abyss below. The chain was adorned with a sign that said "NO TRESPASSING! Hudson's Bluffs Sea Cave is closed due to unsafe conditions." Another sign proclaimed, "Warning: High risk of roof cave-ins, undertow, drowning, unstable walk ways, and falling rocks. Vampires."
Inside was a large open space, the former hotel's lobby, lit faintly by cracks and crevasses in the ceiling that allowed the fading sunlight to shine in. There was junk, cobwebs, cloth, animal bones, and other rubbish shoved to the corners of the large room. Metal barrels were interspersed between each area of the room, in addition, there were candelabras and regular candles that were placed on ledges.
A faded mural was painted on a far wall, "The Atlantis Hotel! The new Valencia for a new city!" There were painted couples and families, walking arm-in-arm with each other and smiling while pointing at the city. The hotel was prominently displayed in the background.
The room itself was an eclectic mix of different styles and mismatched furniture with a dash of chaos.
The marble remnants of an old fountain was situated off kilter from the center of the room with a large intricate crystal chandelier was broken off and rested into the fountain's basin, comfortably nestled as if it was made for its resting place. In a prominent location, off kilter just like the fountain itself, was a battery powered boom-box. It was a large number, a silver Sanyo, that could catch all the radio frequencies and play cassettes to perfection. Behind the fountain was a large portrait of Jim Morrison hanging in pride of place along the wall nearest to the boom-box.
Along one wall was an area that was occupied by both pigeons and doves. Surrounding the area were wind chimes made of wire and water-polished sea shells and colored glass that had bits of labels still attached to them. Pieces of paper and some drawing pencils littered a small circle just within the wind chimes circumference.
Further down the wall there was an old couch, plaid, that was covered in different blankets of various designs, though the majorities were of Indian designs, and large pillows along the armrests. At the left side of the couch was a battered bookcase, three shelves high and leaning slightly under the weight of the books piled upon it. There were titles ranging from literary classics to contemporary novels. On top of the bookcase was a number of children's books ranging from The Chronicles of Narnia to Charlotte's Web.
Near the couch, slightly in front of the bookcase, was an area on the floor that was padded with some flattened dirty pillows. In a little crate against the wall was a small collection of toys: a baseball and two gloves, some green army men, a pogo ball, and around three micro machines.
In an area across from the couch and bookcase was a small alcove. Within the alcove was an old, battered wheelchair that had a small white cloth covering the seat and there were no leg rests attached to the wheelchair. There was an old chest behind the wheelchair that was covered in dust except for in three locations: the lock and on both sides near either end in the front of the chest. There was a statue of a woman, kneeling, in a loose, flowing dress holding an urn to the right of the wheelchair. There was a tall, brass candelabrum that was filled with thin, skinny candles. On the woman's statue short candles that had obviously been used many times evidenced by the wax that had dried along the sides of them.
At one corner of the room pushed against a wall was an explosion of color formed by many different swatches of flimsy see-through cloth. In the center of the cloth cocoon was a king sized bed with multitudes of small pillows and worn out yellowed sheets. On the right side was a dresser that was covered in make-up and a multitude of different hair products.
There were two figures curled up on opposite sides of the bed, sharing the same blanket, the same space, but they did not touch, did not interact in any unconscious manner at all.
One was a boy. A small lad with a mop of unruly tangled hair that was similar in color to aged straw was sprawled, one arm above his head and one under his stomach. His legs were spread; one angled towards his upper body, the other was pointed toward the foot of the bed as if he had fallen asleep mid-stretch. He had on a grey coat that was vaguely reminiscent of a high school band member's performance jacket.
The other prone figure was a teenage girl. She had curly dark chocolate hair and lightly tanned skin. Her entire body was curled up into the fetal position with her hands clasped together and placed under her left chin. Her knees gently bumped her elbows and her entire body was curled into an almost perfect 'C'. She was dressed in a white spaghetti-strap shirt that had an overlay of eyelet lace.
The girl began to stir as the final rays of sunlight disappeared from the sky.
Almost instantaneously whoops and hollers were heard coming from farther within the room.
Both the girl and boy startled awake. The girl woke up with a look of barely suppressed fear whilst the boy jerked up with excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Two boys appeared out of the dark, seemingly to just appear out of thin air, hanging off of each other with their arms around the other's shoulders. Both were laughing loudly and grinning from ear to ear. They walked together till they got to the fountain where they separated. The taller one went over to and began to fiddle with the boom-box whilst the shorter went over to the birds in the corner.
After the boys came and went a dark haired one appeared. He paused and glanced back behind his shoulder at the tall young man who was walking a few steps behind him. The brunet cocked an eyebrow before turning back around and sitting on the couch closest to the bookcase.
The little boy leaped off of the bed and ran over to the couch, claiming a seat next to the brunet. He looked up at him and grinned widely as the boy reached over and ruffled his already messed up hair.
The blond man took precedence in the wheelchair. He moved the chair slightly so that it was facing the entire room, reigning over all within it like a king. He crossed one of his legs onto the knee of his other leg. Then he propped his elbow onto his leg and rested his chin into the palm of his open hand.
The girl cautiously made her way off of the bed and moved to the dresser where she began to tame the flattened bird's nest that her hair had become while she was sleeping during the day.
We built this city, we built this city
"WE BUILT THIS CITY ON ROCK 'N ROLL!" The blond with the boom-box shouted out at the top of his lungs. He jumped up onto the ledge of the fountain and began to circle around and dance enthusiastically all while singing loudly.
The girl flinched slightly and sprayed hairspray on each of the layers of her hair before bumping it out to give her hair more volume. Feeling along her head she decided that she was satisfied with how her hair fell before taking up some of the make-up laying on the chest and beginning to apply it softly to her face.
The two blonds were beginning to get louder dancing around each other at the fountain. The little boy left the couch before running over to the dancing boys and jumping up onto the fountain with them.
"Hey little man Laddie! Wanna dance?" The shorter boy called out gleefully.
"Yeah, Marko!" The little boy cheered before jumping up and down enthusiastically, banging his head to the music pouring out of the boom-box.
"What do you think he came over for Marko? Some milk?!" The tall boy asked the shorter boy cheekily.
"No Paul, I thought you needed someone to help you around in your old age!" Marko replied in a snarky manner.
"Hey David! When are we leaving? I'm hungry!" Paul turned around and asked the man on the wheelchair, never pausing his dancing.
"I don't know. Hey, Marko, are you hungry?" David spoke.
"Eh, maybe. How about you Dwayne, are you?"
"Am I what?" The brunet Dwayne smirked at his brothers.
"No! Guys! Let's just grab someone to eat!" Paul interrupted before the boys could really catch their rhythm.
"Alright, boys, Star, let's go." David spoke as he stood up and made his way past all of the boys.
The girl, Star, turned around and looked over at all of them. Paul, Marko, and Laddie were happily moving towards the entrance of the cave. Dwayne had paused, looking at her with narrowed eyes.
Star moved towards the entrance, cautiously skirting by Dwayne. She was walking slowly until she heard a low growl behind her then she ran to the outside world.
It was hardly a minute later that all of the Lost Boys were situated on the motorcycles that were parked outside the cave.
"Well boys, let's go eat."
With that the cycles shot off like rockets, speeding dangerously through the forest that surrounded Hudson's Bluff and landing in a spray of sand onto the beach and boardwalk.
The cheerful screams echoed in front of the group, heralding their approach and causing tourists and natives alike to move to the edge of the boardwalk as the four motorcycles roared through the crowds.
Skidding to a stop at the far end of the boardwalk the boys waited impatiently for Star and Laddie to get off of the bikes.
"Come on. Come on. Come on." Marko and Paul both chanted in unison. When Star finally untangled her long dress from David's bike they cheered in enthusiastic relief.
"God damn, finally!" Paul sighed out as he leaned his upper body along his bike's handlebars.
"Stay with Laddie, Star." David ordered, not even glancing in the direction of the woman that had ridden with him.
All of the boys rode off except for Dwayne. He revved his bike but did not move, instead turning to look at Star with dark, intense eyes.
"Don't lose Laddie again Star." He growled out, lips twisted up into an ugly sneer. He turned his bike toward where the group had rushed off to and left swiftly, kicking sand from the boardwalk onto Star.
Dwayne quickly caught up with the other boys and was soon grinning along with all of them as they left the boardwalk behind and flew over the sand, eyes focused on the flames of a large bonfire near the ocean and ears filled with the loud, obnoxious music of Santa Carla's resident Surf Nazis.
They left their bikes along a darkened patch of sand and noticed that there was another bike already sitting there.
It was a burgundy Madura 1200 that had a few saddlebags that were almost completely falling off of the bike. Poking out of one of the saddlebags was the handle of a heavy wooden baseball bat.
Marko hopped off his bike and practically skipped over to the bike. He opened the saddlebag slightly until he was able to pull the bat out and look at it.
"Oooh! A Louisville slugger!" He whistled. "I had one of these a long time ago!"
"We don't care! Food, Marko, food. Come on!" Paul whined as he looked up towards the sky.
"Leave the bat. You can grab it after we eat." David spoke up before he began to float upwards.
Marko looked at the bat in his hand before shrugging his shoulders and putting the bat back in the saddlebag with a small grin on his face. He looked up at his brothers before a malicious grin spread on his face as he lifted up to join them.
They sped off into the night air and landed within the scrub brush atop of one of the dunes near the bonfire.
"Which one do you want?" Paul asked almost instantaneously, licking his lips and staring in rapt attention at the small group of partying teenagers below.
"Fuck, it looks like a sausage fest!" Marko complained looking over at the unappetizing party of four males, three teens and one adult, occurring below them.
"Is there any chicks there? These dudes taste like fucking shit!" Paul opened up with his opinion.
"You'll eat what's put in front of you." David began to lecture at the two complaining vampires.
Dwayne turned back to the party ignoring the brewing argument behind him in favor of looking over the partying men below. He noticed a figure; a girl of around seventeen dressed in a long black skirt and a black sweater was sitting huddled onto one of the large pieces of ocean polished driftwood. He tilted his head watching as one of the Surf Nazis tried to pull the girl up to dance and she shrugged his arm off violently.
When the Surf Nazi began to get more physical with her by grabbing a hank of her dark brown hair Dwayne felt a cold burn begin in his stomach and he felt his features begin to twist into the vampiric form. A single word echoed endlessly within his mind.
Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack pack pack pack pack pack pack pack pack pack pack pack.
"David!" He growled out harshly.
David, Paul, and Marko stopped their argument mid-sentence and turned as one to look at Dwayne.
Dwayne stood up and walked behind the boys where he began to pace.
"Woah, man, what's up?" Marko looked at Dwayne with confused worry.
"Take a good look at the people down there and tell me what you feel."
"What? Like which one would make a good shish-ka-bo-" Paul was cut off by a voice speaking succinctly below.
"Is this a private party or can anyone join?"
Dwayne glanced down at the group below again.
Standing around ten feet from the party itself just outside of the bright light of the bonfire stood a small young woman. She was in a white dress that stopped two inches before her knees, black combat boots, a leather jacket, and white leather gloves. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck.
The feeling welled up in him again.
Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack.
"Shit, are those chicks what I think they are?" Paul asked his eyes widened.
"Looks like it boys. We're getting some sisters." David spoke calmly although his eyes were two pinpoints of blazing amber.
"Well?" The woman interrupted the boys' conversation.
The Surf Nazi that had grabbed the girl within the group moved in front of her. He seemed to tower over her short frame. He looked her up and down and licked his lips while rubbing at the stubble on his chin.
"I think we could make an exception for you baby. The chick we have is a frigid little bitch anyway."
Laughter broke out among the partyers behind him almost instantly.
The woman looked at the girl on the log out of the corner of her eye before moving all of her attention to the Surf Nazi in front of her. She mischievously smiled.
"You know what? If you wait right here for me, I'm going to get something that will make our time so much more fun, and if you don't move I will give you a very big surprise. Will you stay here for me, baby?"
The Surf Nazi shifted his weight from left to right to left again before grinning broadly at her.
"I won't move a muscle."
"Good, this is going to be very fun for me."
She turned and ran back towards the roads at a swift clip. The girl just watched as the woman ran off with a smirk that grew wider the farther she got. The men at the party below laughed raucously whilst the men on top of the dune became more agitated.
"What the hell is she going to do?" Marko asked incredulously.
"I don't know and I don't like it. David, let's just take care of these assholes. We can take the girls back to the cave." Dwayne grumbled his pacing becoming faster until he resembled a mountain cat trapped in a cage.
"We should wait. We need to see where the girls will be before we do anything. Do you want them to get caught in any crosshairs?" David retorted, his voice soft but mocking.
Surprisingly, Paul was the only one that was completely calm. He was standing further back on the very apex of the dune and was staring off into the distance where the woman had run off to.
The wicked grin that lit his face brightened all of his features with a chilling sort of light.
"I don't think we need to do anything." He said, still staring into the night.
Marko turned on him swiftly.
"Seriously? What the fuck! You want to just leave the chicks to these douche bags?"
Paul shrugged carelessly.
"Nah, not leave them. I just don't think that they need any help from us."
David glanced at Paul over his shoulder. "What do you know that I don't?" His voice was venomous and his fangs were bared.
"Oh, nothing really, I just have an idea." He glanced away from David before brightening up again.
"Dwayne! Stop pacing like a pussy and get down here. I think we all will not want to miss this!" He exclaimed joyfully whilst dropping on the sand beside Marko.
Dwayne stopped pacing and moved to kneel down on the other side of Paul. David stayed where he was but shifted his weight and head until he had a clear unobstructed view of the party below.
All of them stopped moving as they heard the soft pounding of rapidly approaching footsteps on sand.
The Surf Nazi had turned his head to talk with the other partyers behind him and as such did not see it coming.
The woman was returning at an even greater speed. She no longer wore her leather jacket, gloves, or boots but she did have a wooden Louisville slugger clasped tightly in her right hand.
The woman ran up to the Surf Nazi and never stopping her movement swung the wooden bat with all her strength into the side of his head. It made a sickening crack but the man fell to his knees, dazed but not unconscious. She swiftly kicked him between the knees as he tried to regain his bearings before bringing the bat down on his head again. He fell to the ground in an unconscious heap but the woman raised and lowered the bat two more times into his skull.
On the upswings splashes of blood and skin went flying onto her and the sand around her.
The men behind the group's leader were temporarily stunned into inaction.
The woman stopped beating the man's face after his breathing began to stutter.
"You don't touch girls who don't want to be touched." She snarled out teeth bared at all of those gathered.
Her voice seemed to snap the group out of their daze as one of the more burly members ran at her.
She didn't move, simply adjusted her grip on the bat before shoving it in a thrust into the center of the boy's chest. The air was forced out of his lungs in an audible 'oomph' and he doubled over nearly as fast. The woman raised the bat and brought it down with all of the force she could onto the back of the boy's exposed head. He fell to the ground facedown but breathing.
The last two boys rushed her together. She swung low and connected with the kneecap of the one who reached her first but did not have time to raise the bat again before the second one barreled her over and pinned her hands with his knees.
He raised his fist and took a shot. The explosion of flesh on flesh contact reverberated through the still night air. The woman who was struggling underneath him grunted lowly at the contact causing the boy to get more angry and frustrated. He raised his fist again but the blow never connected.
Instead the left side of his face was practically destroyed by the force of the blow that hit him. The woman below watched as in one stroke the skin and muscle that constituted his cheek was torn off and the bone beneath shattered. Teeth went flying from his mouth in a macabre spray of confetti. She closed her eyes as blood sprayed her face and neck.
The boy fell off of her and put both hands to his face screaming and crying in both fear and pain.
Standing behind him was the girl who had been sitting on the log. In her hands was the blood-stained bat and on her face was a wry grin.
The woman pushed herself to her feet before taking the bat away from the girl and walking to the ocean in front of her. She kneeled down and washed the blood from the bat first before cupping it and scrubbing at the residue that was on her skin.
"Are you alright Allison?" She turned and questioned the girl.
The girl didn't respond verbally but she happily nodded her head to the question.
"Ready to go back to the hotel room?" She questioned the girl again.
Again she received a happy nod as a response.
"Well alright then, let's go."
She leisurely moved through the collection of bodies on the sand and the girl, Allison, fell into easy step beside her showcasing the differences in the height of the two girls.
As they walked away Allison moved her chin to where it rested on the shorter girl's shoulder.
"Thanks." Her husky voice was loud in the stillness of the night even though she had whispered.
The short woman turned to look at her before smiling and bringing her arm up to wrap around the taller girl's shoulders.
"Don't mention it. After all, what are sisters for?"
She squeezed Allison's shoulders before letting go. Allison removed her head from the short woman's shoulder and got back in step with her.
At the top of the dune the Lost Boys looked down at the scene below them in incredulous joy.
"Did you see that? That was awesome. When are we going to talk to them? When are we going to introduce our lifestyle? They're perfect for it already! When – where is Paul going?"
Marko's rant was cut short by Paul hopping up and cheerfully making his way down the dune to the group of injured men below.
He turned to face them, face twisted into a demonic form, eyes amber, fangs extended before laughing loudly.
"Waste not, want not, right?"
He practically skipped over to the boy that was still clutching at his knee and staring at Paul in horror. The boy's eyes widened before he began to scream although it turned into a gurgle almost as soon as it had begun.
The other Lost Boys either grinned or smirked as they too made their way down the hill to the sitting feast below.