All my posts will have the following so first time users will know a bit more than I could fit on the header but please go back to the older posts so you can start at the beginning (I know, stating the obvious):
Why Jewish vampires, you ask? Why not. I get to modify the rules because shouldn't Jewish vampires have some rules that are different. There are also Gentile vampires and were-creatures (not just werewolves but werelions, weretigers and werebears, oh my). While the vampires, both Jewish and Gentile, have some rules the same and some that are different, they all live, in a sense, a cursed existence. I hope you enjoy my take on vampires.
Prelude
For
they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind;
Hosea
8:7
Yosef
ben-Avraham knew he had to be careful as he snuck through the Soviet
lines. No one in the OSS would vouch
for him if the Red Army captured him since his mission was not official. As he was dressed in the field gray uniform
of the enemy, a long-term stay in Hotel Siberia would be his fate.
It was no easy
task avoiding the Soviet artillery barrages raining down on the city. Even with hearing, reflexes and speed well
beyond that of normal humans, he wasn’t perfect. Death would be the result if he miscalculated where any artillery
round would land.
The dead bodies
of a soldier and the stretcher-bearers atop the ruins of a collapsed building
gave silent but chilling testimony to the effectiveness of the Soviet’s massed
artillery. Yosef was cautious as he
sprinted across the rubble-strewn street to the corpses. He knelt down beside the dead soldier. “I hope you made your peace with God because
now it’s too late. Also, thank you for
the bloody gauze. I promise I’ll put it
to good use as you have no further need of it.”
He glanced up
from the corpse and saw the graffiti painted on a part of a brick wall that was
still standing:
Dazu brauchte Hitler 12 Jahre Zeit.
“For this Hitler
needed twelve years time,” Yosef muttered, translating the sentence. Shaking his head and muttering further,
“Twelve years to bring about needless death and destruction on an unprecedented
scale. Well, Satan will not save him this time.”
He took the
gauze and wrapped it around his right hand, being careful as he put his special
“gift” between the layers.
Yosef thought
out loud, “Now comes the hard part, getting by the entrance guards, who are all
elite and thorough. I can’t use my
powers to overpower them because I agreed not to and I can’t leave behind
verifiable evidence. I’ll have to play
it by ear and hopefully be able to get them not to look too closely at my hand.
“
Looking
disheveled in his muddied field gray uniform and displaying a limp as he
approached the entrance, one of the guards shouted, “Ausweis!”
Yosef reached
into his pocket with his thumb and index finger and produced the forged
document.
Despite his
sleeve being encrusted with mud, the insignia of the Gross Deutschland
Division was just visible. Yosef’s
given rank of Oberfeldwebel made it appear he was a survivor. The guard, unimpressed, ordered him to raise
his hands, disarmed him, shouted an order and the other three guards stepped
forward. One of them searched his body
while two others stood at the ready with their sub-machine guns.
Noticing the
soldier couldn’t straighten the fingers on his right hand, the inspecting guard
didn’t bother with the bloody gauze.
The sealed manila envelope was stamped and written with specific
instructions on the outside. It had a
few sheets of paper inside and the guard could tell by feeling it from outside
it did not conceal a weapon. The first
guard observed Yosef’s face and body language during the search, inspected his
identification document, taking his time.
Completing his
inspection of the identification papers, the ranking guard asked, “So,
Oberfeldwebel Johann Hoelzler, why are you traveling alone with such an
important document?”
Yosef
Ben-Avraham replied with a strong Lake Constance area accent, “I was one of two
bodyguards for the officer who was carrying that envelope you’re holding. A cowardly Bolshevik sniper shot the officer
and the other bodyguard just as we made it through the Soviet lines. Before he died from his wound the officer
handed me the envelope and ordered me to complete the mission. As you can tell, it wasn’t all that easy for
me to get here either.”
The ranking
guard broke into a smile as he said, “I can tell by your accent you are from
the Lake Constance area, just like my grandmother. You’re clear to enter. Normally, you would have to leave your
sub-machine gun here but since the Ivans are so close you may be called on to
help resist the godless Bolshevik barbarians.”
It appeared
fortune smiles on those who dare, thought Yosef. His use of a regional accent made him and his story
believable. The guards seemed convinced
he was indeed Oberfeldwebel Johann Hoelzler, that he was there with important
documents for the person who was once the most powerful, most feared man in
Europe. The misdirection had worked
better than he hoped.
Once inside the
structure, Yosef was escorted through a labyrinth of corridors. Admitted into the inner room of the bunker
complex, he found himself staring at the man he hated more than anyone in his
almost two millennia of existence. The
man was smaller than he appeared in the newsreels, as if the loss of humanity
had caused his physical frame to wither, but the ludicrous square of the
moustache on his upper lip left no doubt as to his identity. Adolf Hitler had been one of the elite
Purifier trackers. Now, he was a spent,
drugged-out shell of his former self.
“Why wasn’t I
informed of this earlier?” Der Fuehrer asked, his left hand trembling, his face
becoming red with apparent anger as he read the document. In a moment, Hitler’s expression transformed
from anger into fear, as he had become aware of what Yosef was, the embodiment
of his obsession to rid the world of Jewish Vampires. That obsession had twisted itself into ridding the world of all
Jews. Hitler’s evil logic said that if
there were no Jews, then there would be no Jewish vampires. Now the object of his obsession was going to
cost him his life.
Leaping across
the table faster than was possible for a normal human, Yosef shoved Hitler
against the wall and placed his non-bandaged hand over Der Fuehrer’s mouth
before he had a chance to react. He
shoved the cyanide capsule into Hitler’s mouth and snapped shut his jaw to
break the capsule and allowed a self-satisfying, smug look to cross his face,
which caused anger to flare in Hitler’s eyes.
To add further insult, Yosef whispered, “Khahver Shickelgroober, a
Yid iz er goyver geven oon itst iz hient a yiddishe Yahntif.”
The humiliation
in Der Fuehrer’s eyes made it obvious he got the joke, even if it was told in
Yiddish. For the next few seconds,
Hitler’s body convulsed before going limp, life having left his corporeal form. Now Yosef had to make sure no one would
check on Hitler until he made good his escape.
Yosef thought to
himself, “Things have proceeded close to the plan. I’ve left no evidence that I’ve been here. But leave it to the ivory tower pencil necks
to actually believe the “intelligence” reports about the inner room being closer
to the entrance than it is. I would
have no trouble overpowering all the guards but that would leave evidence of my
being here and I can’t risk negating the deal. It would take only one to survive to expose the existence of
vampires and, hence, purifiers. How can
I make sure no one will check in on Hitler until I’ve made good my escape? Wait, I got it.”
Calling on the
skills acquired a few hundred years before to mimic someone, he went into a
verbal Hitleresque rant, similar to the ones with which he amused his OSS
colleagues. Not just sounding like
Hitler, Yosef had perfect cadence. The
“rant” made it quite clear Der Fuerher wished to be left alone to ponder the news
that was just brought to him and how it would reverse the course of the war. Yosef then called out “Sieg heil!” and left
the room, closing the door behind him with all due haste, making sure he looked
relieved at not being berated by Hitler.
The guards cast a knowing glance in his direction. They would not dare disturb Der Fuerher. Yosef’s friend, John Mulholland the
magician, was right again; the best way to deceive was to use misdirection and
get the audience to look the wrong way.
Yosef was
halfway back to Paris by the time Hitler’s corpse was discovered. He had succeeded where the Purifiers
themselves had failed. On several
occasions they attempted to kill that most evil, most vile renegade
Purifier. The closest the Purifiers had
come were on two occasions with bombs but it seemed apparent the devil takes
care of his own. But the devil didn’t
account for a cursed Jew.
The next day,
Yosef reported to his OSS superior, James McDougal.
“It’s done,
James. There’s no evidence linking this
to anyone other than the Germans themselves.”
“You didn’t use
your powers at all?” James asked.
“I left no
verifiable evidence of my being there.”
“Good”, James
said. “A source inside the Reich
Chancery told us the Nazi Party’s inner circle has made it look like he
committed suicide with Eva Braun. The
world will never know Hitler was killed for his crimes against humanity and to
keep secret the very existence of vampires and the Purifiers.”
“Amazing, isn’t
it?” Yosef replied. “Their world, built
on hatred, cruelty, murder, not to mention unspeakable horrors that in my over
nineteen hundred years of living are the worst I’ve ever seen, is falling apart
all around them and they’re worried about appearances. And to top it off, they murder someone,
while not exactly whom I would call an innocent, but who still did not deserve
to die.”
James looked at
Yosef in amazement. Here was a Jewish
vampire, a chosen prey, displaying sympathy, humanity. He forced himself to dismiss such thoughts. After all, Yosef had survived all these
centuries due in large measure being able to adapt and play whatever role
necessary to survive. This had to be
another one of those instances. Yes, it
was all for show.
“So the agreed
upon deal is now in effect?” Yosef asked in a manner that seemed like a
command, snapping James out of his thoughts.
James replied,
“Yes, it is. You kept your end of the
deal and the Purifiers will keep ours, for as long as you shall ‘live’.”
Each of them
walked away, feeling they had sold their souls to the devil.
Monday
Chapter
Zero
Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty
spirit before a fall.
Proverbs
16:18
It was a typical
February night in the Monterey area, cold with an even colder wind blowing in
from the bay. However, the sky was
clear with a bright full moon. Joseph
always liked to run on the beach around 2 AM since it was the one time he could
go all out and run at 60 mph with almost no risk of being seen. It was also a great time to think about
whatever case or cases he was working on because there was little in the way of
distractions. He owned a private
investigation company, Central Coast Investigations, with his fellow Jewish
Vampires, Kevin Sung and Felicia Cush.
Joseph was having trouble getting a solid lead with the serial arsonist
case costing insurance companies and banks several million dollars. To add to the insurance companies’ woes, he
thought about Kevin’s case involving the theft of paintings from over a dozen
private collections in Pebble Beach, Carmel, Carmel Valley and the ritzy part
of Monterey that straddled Highway 68.
Their black market contacts had come up empty. This led him to think about Felicia’s case involving intellectual
property theft from a local technology firm and the black market sale of their
technology overseas. Besides costing
the client profits, it was also costing the client as it had to file lawsuits
in regards to patent and trademark infringement. Joseph knew the cases were somehow connected to each other, just
not how. The one common thread so far
was all three were costing companies lots of money.
Joseph sprinted
a short distance at a 60 mph clip and slowed down to a normal human pace when
he saw someone peek out from behind the large rock a quarter-mile away. At an eighth-mile from the rock, Joseph
tasted the unmistakable scent of smoking hemp as the wind shifted
direction. The person peeked out from
behind the rock again. Joseph
recognized the man, who went by the name of Snake Eyes and was a member of a
local gang he had dealings with before.
Since Snake Eyes wasn’t a Purifier, he had no reason to fear him or
worry about the bullets being gold-laced.
Everyone knew
Snake Eyes was from somewhere south of the border but no one knew for sure how
far south. His Spanish was a mix of
Sonoran, Honduran and Venezuelan accents and idioms. He was a little under average height, heavy but almost all muscle,
including his brain. He resembled a
fire hydrant with a goatee and long, jet-black hair worn in a ponytail.
When Joseph was
almost to the rock, Snake Eyes jumped out, brandishing a Colt .45
revolver. He was also very quick to his
point as he aimed his pistol at Joseph, who came to a stop, and blurted out,
“You may have others in the gang scared of you, but you don’t scare me. In fact, when they find out I’m the one who
got revenge for the gang I’ll be the one they’ll look up to. They’ll call me El Hombre!”
“Just put the
gun back in your pants, walk away and you might live to see thirty”, replied
Joseph. The lack of being intimidated
made Snake Eyes’ nostrils flare in anger.
“Fuck you!”
followed by six gunshots to Joseph’s stomach and chest was Snake Eyes’
retort. Joseph fell back, knocked down
by the .45 caliber rounds. Snake Eyes
walked up to the body as it lay in the sand, ready to spit on it when Joseph
leapt to his feet. He grabbed Snake
Eyes, whose eyes were wide with terror, and bit into his jugular. Joseph drank his fill of the gang member’s
blood, four quarts in all. Then he
snapped the neck to be sure Snake Eyes would not become undead.
“El
Hombre, huh.” Joseph said. “Well, it looks like
you’re now El Hombre muerto.”
Wiping the blood off of his mouth and licking his fingers, he added,
“Exercise and killing vampire-style always gives me a mighty hunger.“
Joseph did feel the throbbing, tingling pain of the six
bullet wounds healing. However, the
combination of his feeding and centuries of experience allowed him to shove the
discomfort to the back of his mind.
Being a Jewish vampire meant healing faster than even Gentile vampires
but it didn’t mean being impervious to pain, a lesson he learned from the
Wanderer almost two thousand years ago.
He even heard the bullets make a dull thud noise as they popped out of
his body and bounced off of Snake Eye’s corpse.
Joseph was glad
this all occurred near where he had parked.
Making it appear as if his friend was too drunk to walk, he carried the
now former gang member to his vehicle.
He wished there had been a better alternative in dealing with the
situation, but at least it was at a time where there would be no witnesses to worry
about. All that was left was to
incinerate the body in the furnace in his basement.
After cremating
Snake Eye’s body, Joseph looked forward to a three-hour slumber. He had a busy morning scheduled and the long
sleep would do him good. Taking off his
running clothes, disposing of his bullet-hole ridden sweatshirt in the trash
and leaving his sweatpants and shoes on the floor by the foot of his bed, he
flopped down and fell asleep around four.
He was jolted back to consciousness just past five by the sounds of
police, fire and ambulance sirens.
Joseph put on the sweatpants and shoes by the foot of his bed, threw on
the fleece pullover hanging on the door hooks and brought along his silver and
gold plated combat and throwing knives, having a gut instinct he would need
them. Stepping out into the pre-dawn
morning, the air had the damp chill that went clear through to the bone. The thick fog allowed just enough light from
the street lamps for a few yards of visibility. Joseph’s instincts forced him to the bottom of Lievry Way, the
street he lived on, instead of to Parsons Circle, the next street over, where
the commotion was. Having started down
the hill, he heard someone jump over the chain link fence surrounding the
drainage runoff at the bottom of the street or, as Joseph surmised, someone
landed on the Lievry side of the fence but didn’t make it as far as he or she
planned on. The utterance of what
sounded like a sixteenth century Russian curse told him his gut was correct and
also made him wonder about the leaper.
Joseph sprinted to the bottom of the street and visibility improved as
it was below the fog bank. He saw
someone running into the walkway connecting Lievry Way to Crescent Avenue. Joseph had closed the distance when he
noticed the runner in front of him cock his head, as if he heard footsteps, and
then accelerate to a speed that a mortal could not achieve but a vampire
could. He was glad he followed his
instincts and armed himself with his gold-and-silver-plated knives since he
didn’t know if the other vampire was Jewish or Gentile.
Joseph picked up
his speed to catch the other vampire but found he couldn't gain any
ground. He maintained a feverish
pursuit to keep the other vampire in view as it turned left onto Crescent and
then right onto Patton Parkway. Patton
Parkway ended after a few hundred feet into a white wooden barrier and chain
link fence but the vampire, without breaking stride, leapt over the barriers
and ran through the field that was overgrown with brush and vegetation with
Joseph running hard to keep pace. He
wanted to use his throwing knives but the other vampire was too erratic in how
it zigged and zagged for an accurate throw.
The field was
high enough to be in the thick fog bank.
Joseph then switched to using his infrared vision to keep the other
vampire “visible” with its heat signature.
The field ended at another chain link fence, separating it from the
Marina tow and auto repair lot, which was below the fog bank. Joseph switched back to normal vision and noticed
the other vampire take something out his coat pocket and point it at a vehicle
in the lot, with the lights illuminating just enough to reveal it was a late
model Mercedes. The car started up and
the moon roof opened as the other vampire leapt feet first into the vehicle,
landed in the driver’s seat and put it into drive in one smooth motion. Joseph, without breaking stride, also jumped
over the fence and, with a throwing knife in each hand, prepared to throw them
at the vehicle’s rear tires. The other
vampire was starting to peel out when Joseph heard a bladed weapon being
unsheathed and twisted his body just in time to miss being struck by a gold
plated sword swung by someone who leapt towards him from his right.
Even though
Joseph managed to dodge what would have been a mortal blow, he could not avoid
the collision with the second vampire’s body that sent them both tumbling to
his left. As he and the second vampire
rolled out of their landings, they both still felt the pain that would have
incapacitated a normal human. He
managed to get enough of the other vampire’s scent to know he faced a Gentile
vampire. Joseph’s advantage of being a
Jewish vampire allowed him to recover a couple of precious seconds faster. Joseph also had the edge of centuries of
combat experience. This meant he held
onto his weapons by second nature and came up in a ready to fight position,
while the second vampire dropped his sword and was not prepared to defend
himself. Joseph then threw his
silver-plated throwing knife into the second vampire’s forehead with such force
it buried itself all the way to its handle, bringing instant death.
Joseph knelt
down to withdraw the knife but paused when he saw how young the Gentile looked,
no more than sixteen years old. Joseph could
tell by how fresh the Gentile’s scent tasted that he had been turned less than
a year ago. There was also something
familiar about how the smell tasted but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Joseph heard the sound of almost silent
footsteps and knowing he had no time to pull the silver plated throwing knife
free, instead withdrew his silver plated combat knife and turned
counter-clockwise to deflect a strike from a third vampire armed with a gold
plated sword.
Joseph
recognized his latest attacker as Isabella DiFirenze, a four hundred and ten
year old Gentile vampire from Florence, Italy.
He also noticed how the light, shone off her raven-colored hair, which
was tied into a ponytail. She was
dressed in a dark green one-piece outfit that accentuated and flattered her
fit, supple 5’8” figure. They started
to circle each other.
"I have no
quarrel with you, Isabella!"
Isabella decided
to ignore exchanging pleasantries.
"This is no quarrel, Yosef.
This is the future. I have
bonded with other vampires and we will not live in the shadows any longer. We will lord over the mortals. We are their superiors. And spare me any speeches about serving a
higher purpose. God has abandoned us
and not even you can stop the inevitable."
“If God has
abandoned us then what makes you think He will let your cabal of vampires take
over”, Joseph replied. “And it sounds
as if you are still trying to convince yourself of the ‘righteousness’ of your
new cause.”
Isabella
answered by drawing a second sword, this one silver-plated. Joseph knew that unless she struck a
decapitating blow, it would not be lethal, but the pain it would inflict might
slow him down, allowing him to be killed.
They kept circling each other for a few more seconds when Isabella
sprang at Joseph swinging her silver sword as a diversion to create an opening
for her gold plated one. Anticipating
her move, Joseph let the silver sword cause a slight cut on his abdomen as he
deflected what would have been a deadly strike at his jugular from the gold plated
sword.
Joseph then spun
clockwise off of his deflection to close the distance and neutralize the
superior range of Isabella’s swords.
His move almost worked as his silver combat knife just missed her
jugular as Isabella leapt back.
“I see you’ve improved
your combat skills.”
“Now I shall
teach you, old man. And it will be the
first, last and only lesson I will teach you.”
Isabella then
started to press her attack again.
Joseph was more than impressed, thinking how the swirling of her blades
weaved in the air a beautiful tapestry of death. He was now certain one or both of them would be dead before the
sunrise.
Isabella swung
the gold plated sword in her right hand at Joseph’s rib cage. Joseph ducked just in time and spun
clockwise to sweep her feet out from under her. Reacting with the grace of a ballerina who happened to be armed
with razor sharp swords, Isabella somersaulted backwards and twisted ninety
degrees in mid-air to her left as she brought down the gold plated sword with
all of her might in an attempt to cleave Joseph’s skull. Joseph deflected the blow to his right with
the gold plated throwing knife in his left hand, rolled to his left and stood
upright to Isabella’s right. He swung
with his silver knife in an attempt to strike her upper spinal column but she
spun in place to her left and brought up her silver plated sword in her left
hand to deflect the attempted death strike.
The two edged weapons met with a ringing clang, creating sparks that
shone brighter due to the darkness. The
battle between the two graceful warriors continued with each trying to strike a
mortal blow. One would block the
other’s blow and then attempt a counter-strike, which the other would block and
follow-up with a counter-strike.
Even though the
physical battle had gone on for just a few minutes, the intensity of their
blows and counter-blows caused Joseph and Isabella to be drenched in their own
sweat despite the damp coolness of the pre-dawn morning. They continued to circle each other.
“Why do you feel
I have to die, Isabella? We are friends
last time I checked.”
“Because you are
the biggest barrier for our kind’s rightful world domination. You care too much about seeking a ‘cure’ and
for the mortals themselves.”
“You have told
me many times throughout the centuries how you wish for a cure yourself. And you have also helped the mortals
countless times without expecting any personal gain.”
“I was foolish
on both counts. I won’t make those
mistakes again. And you have no idea
what or who you are up against, old one!”
“The attempted
taunt with your affectionate term for me is nothing but wasted breath, no
better than blood that has been left in a victim.”
“I will avenge
Scott’s death, dance at your funeral pyre and consume your ashes”, she yelled,
allowing her emotions to take control of her actions.
Isabella then
pressed home her attack, convincing Joseph that her anger had overtaken her.
Joseph created
an opportunity to throw his gold plated throwing knife to distract Isabella,
allowing him to strike true an offensive blow with such force that his silver
plated combat knife cut off her right hand just above the wrist. Isabella howled with pain, dropped to her
knees and gazed at the stump of her right arm as the blood flowed from the wound
that refused to heal. Seventeenth
century Italian obscenities flowed out of her mouth.
“Cornuto”,
Isabella screamed through the pain as she held up the pinky and index fingers
of her left hand. She continued to
scream curses in Italian mixed with English, “You are a figlio di puttana
and a finocchio.”
“Let me cut off
your arm just above the wound so you can heal”, Joseph pleaded as he picked up
her gold-plated sword with his left hand.
He was ready to use the sword to cut off more of her arm just above what
was now a stump of a forearm, so her vampire healing abilities could then take
over, as the silver induced wound would be gone.
Isabella’s reply
was not verbal but one of action. As
fate would have it, she was near where Scott dropped his gold plated
sword. She fought through the searing
pain and, in a single motion, leapt to where the sword lay as blood sprayed up
to several feet from the stump of her right arm onto the pavement, picked up
the sword and jumped right at Joseph.
Joseph deflected the attack with ease and, as she went past him, struck
at the back of Isabela’s neck with his silver combat knife to sever her spinal
cord. Joseph looked into her face,
which had a smile of relief on it, as if she welcomed her own death.
Joseph made sure
there wasn’t a fourth vampire around, dropped to his knees, and muttered in a
voice that was quivering with emotion as he cradled his friend’s lifeless body,
“Why, Isabella, why?” He closed his
eyes as his tears flowed, drew a deep breath and snapped her neck. He then went over to Scott. He did not recognize him from any of the
vampire registries. Joseph snapped
Scott’s neck to make sure he was also dead and withdrew his silver-plated
throwing knife from Scott’s head. He
would now have to dispose of the two Gentile vampires by incinerating them just
to make sure they wouldn’t come back as undead.
Joseph had not
taken any pleasure in terminating Isabella.
They were the best of friends and had been lovers at one time. He wondered what could have persuaded her to
fall in with a group of vampires that wanted world domination. He remembered first meeting her in 1603, in
Florence, Italy. She was hoping for
something more than existing, she wanted meaning. They talked for hours on end about philosophy and he also trained
her in combat as part of helping her focus.
They had kept in contact throughout the centuries, having an ongoing
discussion about philosophy, the meaning of life and continuing combat
training.
Joseph knew he
had been led into a trap. Vampires
don’t go around armed with gold plated swords.
He searched around the scene for any possible clues and he found the
Scott’s silver plated sword. Joseph
knew without any doubt the trap was not just for him but also for his Shabbas
Goy, Valerie Aquitaine. That would
explain why Isabella did not attack when Scott attacked him. She was watching out for Valerie, just in
case she was at his house and had joined in the pursuit. Joseph realized the first vampire had
somehow alerted the two a Jewish Vampire was chasing him and they decided to
use the gold plated swords. He examined
their weapons but they yielded not one clue as to their origin. This bothered him and he knew the lack of
any clues should be telling him everything he needed to know but for some
reason the answer eluded him.
Joseph gathered
up the swords, his knives and the two bodies and carried them to the
field. Joseph then ran back to his
house, got into his hybrid SUV and drove back to the Marina Tow and Repair. He put the bodies and the swords into the
vehicle, hiding them in a special compartment underneath the vehicle and drove
off to Kevin’s house since the police and other law enforcement agencies were
just starting to patrol and canvas the surrounding streets. Joseph couldn’t go back home as the contents
of his vehicle might be discovered and he would have a hard time explaining
things.
Joseph hit one
of his speed dial numbers.
“Hey, Joseph,
what’s up and why couldn’t you wait to talk to me in the office?”
“Kevin, I just
had an old-fashion but no less deadly sword fight with Isabella Di Firenze and
another previously unknown Gentile vampire whose first name is Scott.”
“What the? Why would Isabella fight you? You two have been friends for centuries.”
“I’ll explain it
all when I get to your place. I need to
use your incinerator since mine is inaccessible at the moment. Also, there’s another Jewish vampire in town
but I don’t know who.”
“Okay, I’ll have
everything ready when you get here.
This sounds like quite a story.
Should I call Felicia and tell her, just in case she needs to be on
guard.”
“Yes, do
that. In fact, alert all the other
vampires in the three counties.
Something’s brewing but I don’t know what yet.” Joseph then hung up.
Joseph disposed
of the bodies at Kevin’s place and then drove back home in hopes of finding out
what happened. There was a police
checkpoint as he exited Highway One at Del Monte. He figured something serious had happened on Parson Circle.
A sheriff’s
deputy, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, husky and of average height, came
up to the passenger side window. The
deputy knocked on the window and commanded, “Please roll your window down and
keep your hands in plain sight”.
“What’s
happening, deputy?” Joseph asked.
“I need to see
your ID, please”, the deputy replied.
Joseph showed
him his driver’s license and private investigator’s license.
“So, why are you
just getting home at this early hour?
Following a cheating spouse?” the deputy joked but being half-serious as
well.
“Actually, you
hit the nail on the head”, Joseph chuckled in response, showing his camera,
empty 7-11 coffee mug and almost empty box of chocolate mini-donuts. “However, it turned out to be a total waste
of time except for the money the wife paid me. You want the last two donuts?”
“Sure,
thanks. Well, Mr. Abrams, go on back
home. I’ll radio ahead to the
checkpoint at Parsons and Reindollar so you won’t have any hassles.”
“Thanks,
Deputy”, Joseph said. “I hope your day
goes better than mine has.”
Joseph drove off
with the harsh realization that his week had just become much more interesting.
Chapter
One
He that
despiseth his neighbor lacketh understanding;
But a man of
discernment holdeth his peace.
Proverbs
11:12
James spoke into
the mic attached to his headset, “Christina, you in position?”
“Ready and clear
line of sight, James”, Christina replied back.
She made sure not to be silhouetted by the Hotel Congress’ neon sign a
few blocks down.
“Stan, you
ready?”
“Ready and
able,” Stan answered. “I’ve got front
entrance covered in case target decides to change things up. Locked and loaded with suppressor.”
“Good. Shouldn’t be long now” James said, checking
his watch. He cupped his hand over his
wrist, making sure its light didn’t expose his hiding spot behind the dumpster
at the end of the alley. The dumpster
gave him two advantages. The first
being it hid his body so the prey would not see his heat signature. The second being it masked his scent with
the smell of its garbage and the urine from the homeless. He was the other backup plan in case Victor
somehow managed to evade being shot by Christina.
Then, as if on
cue, the three of them wiped the sweat out of their eyes. Even though it was 3 in the morning, the
temperature was in the mid-80s. August
in Tucson was one of the two rainy seasons.
Besides the obvious humidity, there was the cloud cover, which kept the
heat in and the moonlight out. Unless
the Night Prey decided to switch to either infrared or ultraviolet sight, they
shouldn’t be detected.
A few moments
later, the unmistakable footfalls of Victor Lazinski walking into the alley
could be heard. They had been keeping
track of him ever since he came to town.
The Night Prey was about to enter through the side entrance of the
building he had purchased, just as he had done the previous night. This could
not have gone any better. The Prey was
alone and the alley had just one way in or out.
Situated in her
sniper’s nest on top of the building across the street, Christina had Victor in
her sights. About to take her shot, she
ducked down as a bullet traveled through the spot where her head had been. She said a silent prayer, glad she listened to
her gut.
“There’s a
second prey!” Christina hissed in a loud voice. “It’s behind the white pickup, a block down from me.”
James peered
around the dumpster and fired a three round burst at Victor, pinning him down
in the doorway across from his entrance but out of Christina’s line of
sight. Stan rolled out of the front
doorway and came up in a crouched position behind the dark blue Volvo wagon
parked on the street. He let loose a
burst of silver coated rounds at the second prey, keeping it at bay. They were all in a standoff for the moment
but James, Stan and Christina knew the prey would win due to their superior
physical capabilities.
James calculated
that if he jumped out, Victor would have to expose himself, allowing Christina
the chance to shoot him. If the other
Prey tried to shoot Christina, he or she would be exposed, allowing Stan the
chance to end his or her misbegotten cursed existence. James was about to put his plan into action,
even though he knew the odds were he would be killed but if he didn’t act, the
odds were certain he would die, when Stan broke cover and ran towards the
second Prey. The second Prey shot at
Stan out of instinct, not realizing Christina now had a clean shot at him.
Christina’s silver-laced round hit the prey and blew out his brain in a most
literal sense. Victor tried to roll and
shoot both Christina and James at the same time as he drew out a second handgun
but he did not realize that James had already come out from behind the
dumpster. Just as Victor started his
roll, James was in perfect position to riddle him with 15 rounds of silver
laced bullets, including three through the heart. The blood loss was quick, weakening Victor enough to allow James
to run up and finish off the Prey with a three round burst to the head.
James snapped
Victor’s neck to ensure a permanent death.
He then ran out of the alley and saw the second prey sprawled on the
asphalt. James went to the lifeless
second Prey, recognizing him as Dragutin Brodz, Victor’s off and on lover for
more than three centuries, and snapped his neck.
“Great job
everyone” James spoke with adrenalin-fueled excitement.
Christina
responded, her voice quivering with emotion, “Ja-James, you better get to
Stan. I-I-I don’t see him moving.”
James turned and
ran all out to where Stan lay on the sidewalk.
He saw a neat hole dead center in Stan’s forehead, turned him over and
saw that the back of his friend’s head was missing, with blood and gray matter
dripping out.
“By all that is
holy, no ”, James whispered, feeling as if a ton of bricks fell on him.
James shot
upright, sweat having beaded up on his shaved-bald pate. Once again, the nightmare of the murder of
his cell’s previous tracker, Stan Wong, haunted him. Even though the Night Prey had been eliminated, losing his friend
still left him with a pang of guilt.
James knew in his head there was nothing he could have done to change
what happened but he could never convince his heart. He planned very well but there was no indication of a second
Night Prey, which almost proved fatal for the cell. He knew just one cell member being murdered instead of all three
of them was sort of a victory, all things considered and since both Prey were
eliminated. Stan had sacrificed himself
so that Christina and he could live.
James believed he should have been quicker in his attempt to sacrifice himself
for the good of the cell. This added to
James’ burning drive to purify the world of all vampires, Chosen or Night.
He was careful
not to wake his wife. Years of training
allowed him to get his well-built six-foot frame out of bed without causing the
slightest disturbance. He left the
bedroom, closed the door behind him and went into the living room of the hotel
suite they were staying in. His family
vacation in Monterey had not brought the hoped for mental peace.
He changed into
the clothes he had laid out the night before.
He wrote a note for his wife to let her know he went for a walk and took
his video camera in case the night was clear enough for him shoot a video of
the waves crashing onto the beach, figuring the moonlight would add a great
effect.
After walking
for several minutes, James looked out into the bay and was taken aback by the
reflection of the moon off the water.
He was amazed at how still the reflection looked despite the actual
movement of the ocean water.
James thought to
himself, “The bay is eerily analogous to me. While it looks calm and still, in reality it’s moving, at times
violently as evidenced by the waves cascading on the beach. This is actually like my mental state. I appear calm but underneath there is an almost
violent rage that drives me.”
He was shooting
a short video of the moon shining off of the Monterey Bay when a jogger came
into view, followed a split second later by another person coming out from
behind a large rock, brandishing a pistol.
James decided discretion was the better part of valor and crouched down
behind the stonewall bordering the path along the beach. He tilted the view screen and held his
camera just above the top of the wall.
He managed to get the two on the beach back into view and just before he
could call 9-1-1, he saw the jogger shot six times by what sounded like a
forty-five caliber handgun. What James
saw next sent a shiver and excitement up his spine at the same time as the
jogger leapt to his feet and spring at the shooter’s throat, as if nothing
happened. James realized his family
vacation had turned into the discovery of one of the Chosen Prey. He stopped recording and crept a distance
before hurrying back to the hotel. He
hoped the wind, which was blowing in from the Bay, and the waves hid what
little noise he made. Even this Prey
should not have been able to hear him.
James had
arrived back at his hotel room and still couldn’t believe his good
fortune. He had stumbled onto the
whereabouts of a Jewish Vampire or, as the Purifiers called them, Chosen
Prey. He was even convinced that he had
found not just any Jewish vampire but Yosef ben-Avraham. He had heard stories from his father and grandfather,
purifiers like all of his patrimonial ancestors as far back as ten generations. The manner in which the Chosen Prey had
grabbed the other’s throat left no doubt in his mind it had to be Yosef
ben-Avraham.
James knew he
had to call the other two members of his cell, Oscar Chavez, who replaced Stan
as the cell’s tracker, and Christine Jablonski, the cell’s shooter. While there was the treaty between Yosef and
the Purifiers that stipulated Yosef was not to be purified, James knew that
Yosef was dangerous. Yosef was the one
vampire that could unite all vampires and make them into a force that would be
impossible to resist. He could not
understand why the others in the Purifiers could not see the danger in allowing
it to exist. No reason had been given
but the board said Yosef did both the Purifiers and the world the largest of
favors. What could the cursed Chosen
Prey have done that would be considered so worthy? James has asked his father and grandfather but neither knew the
reason.
James entered
into the bedroom, trying to be quiet and not wake up his wife. However, Shelly was awake and waiting for
him, as in times past.
“Couldn’t sleep
again?” she asked. “Was it that same
dream again? Maybe you should see a
counselor or therapist about it.”
James replied,
“No, just restless. Fortunately that
dream hasn’t come back in over a year”, James lied.
“If you were
restless then wake me up next time”, she said in a most seductive manner. “You know I like to help you get rid of
nervous energy.” She was being one
hundred percent truthful about the nervous energy part. Whenever James was restless due to an
abundance of nervous energy he was at his best, at least, that’s what Shelly
always told him. He didn’t want to tell
her about the video just yet because their family vacation was not over.
James awoke
again after a couple hours of sleep. He
tried to go back to sleep but too much was going through his mind. He figured he might as well study the video
recording and do some research on his laptop.
Shelly was up a few minutes later.
“James, what are
you doing up and on your laptop? And
why do you have your Purifier external hard drive hooked up? This was supposed to be a family vacation!”
James wanted to
keep it a family vacation and the edge in Shelly’s voice told him to tread with
the utmost care. James relented and
said, “I didn’t tell you everything because I was trying to keep this a family
vacation but take a look at this video.”
James played the
video he shot for Shelly. She let out a
loud whistle as she knew her husband had stumbled upon something of great
importance.
“Shelly, I was
trying to keep this a family vacation but I had to do something while
everything was still fresh in my mind.
I’m also quite sure it was not just any vampire but Yosef ben-Avraham.”
“And you know
this how, dad? There is no known
photograph of him in the last 10 years, no one knows what he looks like.” It was their 16-year old son, Thomas.
“Thomas, what
are you doing up?” Shelly asked.
“You woke me up,
mom. You sometimes forget to keep your
voice down when dad makes you mad. So,
dad, you’re sure you found Yosef ben-Avraham?”
“There will be
time to go over this when we get back to Tucson”, Shelly replied.
“Why wait? Sounds like something I should know
about. After all, dad has been training
me and this seems like a good opportunity for me to learn more.”
“He’s right,
Shelly. He’s been learning and needs to
know more.”
“I know when you
two aren’t going to listen to reason.
Go ahead with the impromptu lesson.
I’m going back to bed” Shelly
huffed as she went back into her bedroom.
Thomas then
continued, “Well, thank goodness a few of the myths of vampires are just that,
myths. Vampires can be photographed and
video recorded. Even though Chosen Prey
change their appearance every 40 years, if we can photograph them then other
Purifiers will know what they look like for much, if not most, of those 40
years.”
“That is
fortunately true. Okay, Mr. Vampire
Expert, now tell me why we wouldn’t worry about having to face a platoon of
vampires if we were to pursue Yosef ben-Avraham.”
“I know they
aren’t organized into covens nor they have some central governing body but, on
the other hand, with the internet they have been able to form a loose network
for communications purposes. This has
made things more difficult for the Purifiers since now all Prey can communicate
and keep tabs on the Purifiers instead of the other way around. Also, this means a Prey like Yosef
ben-Avraham has a better potential to organize all Prey. Let’s face it, if anyone can unite other
Prey, it’s Yosef ben-Avraham. Which
goes back to my original question, how do you know it’s Yosef ben-Avraham?”
“It was the move
he used when he grabbed the mortal by the throat. It was something that has been written as unique to him. No matter how many identities Chosen Prey
has taken on, they too are creatures of habit.
“Now to touch
upon something you brought up. You need
to know the Purifiers haven’t been able to hack into the Prey’s network. This has led to a shift in the balance of
power. No longer can the Purifiers be
the ones with the upper hand nearly all the time on the whereabouts of
Prey. Now the Prey can know the
whereabouts of many of the Purifiers.”
“But dad,
doesn’t facial recognition technology make it possible for us to keep track of
Night Prey, if there is a picture of them on record?”
“Yes, it
does. And now we have resources we can
use that aren’t connected to the Purifiers at all, such as the anti-Vampire
society in Gilroy. They labor under the
false belief that all vampires can’t eat human food and are allergic to garlic,
hence, why they decided to put their headquarters in Gilroy, the Garlic Capital
of the World. Now, tell me, weedhopper,
how they are both right and wrong.”
“Well, they’re
mostly correct about garlic. The Night
Prey are allergic to garlic, to the point that just a little can make them
violently ill. However, Chosen Prey
have no problem with garlic. And when
it comes to human food, they’re only a bit correct. Both Night and Chosen Prey can’t eat beef, lamb, goat or ram,
which were the sacrificial animals.
“But this begs
the questions, if this society is off-base on what vampires are like, why do we
keep tabs on what they are doing and read their blogs and all?”
“Because, Tom,
they report on anything and everything that, to them, seems to be the work of
vampires. Yes, most of what they write
about turns out to be dead ends but there are those times they are right. They also make our work easier. Even dead ends can be useful as they let us
know where vampires are not.”
“I think I get
it, dad. But they could get themselves
killed since they don’t realize that religious symbols and wooden stakes are
also useless. While silver is poisonous
to Night Prey, it is useless against Chosen Prey. Gold is what’s needed to kill Chosen Prey and they have no clue
that Chosen Prey even exist.”
“Very good. I also see you have learned your lessons
concerning Night and Chosen Prey. Now,
to answer your questions about the anti-vampire society. No, they don’t know about Jewish vampires,
let alone how they differ from Gentile vampires. They don’t know Chosen Prey are twice as strong and fast and heal
about twice as fast as Night prey.
Thanks be to God that the Chosen Prey number far less than the Nights
do.
“Now, go back to
sleep. I have to go over a few more
things.”
“Okay. See you later in the morning.”
He waited for
Thomas to go back into the bedroom and close the door. He then sat down on the couch and thought, I
will have to call Christina and Oscar when we get back to Tucson. We will have to make a decision if we will
set aside the agreement and go after Yosef ben-Avraham. I’ll be asking a lot from them. Yosef ben-Avraham hasn’t survived for nearly
2,000 years by just pure luck. He’s
smart and has literally 50 lifetimes worth of experience. I will be asking them to break a solemn vow
but doing what is right, what is just, is most important. All Prey deserves to die. The time to act is now. I just have to make sure my arguments for
breaking the agreement are more than enough to convince Oscar and
Christine. We must bring the Purifiers
back to the true path of not compromising with the enemy, even if it costs him
his life.
Chapter
Two
The rage was building inside of him. Yehuda knew he had to act before it took control. His fangs and claws were out. He used one of his claws to slice off the
screen on the window. Then he slid the
claw between the two panes, undid the latch and slid opened the window.
Climbing through with deliberate stealth, he entered the parents’
bedroom. Without warning, the father,
Francisco Aguilos, leapt out of bed and yelled to his wife, “Josefina, call the
police!” Francisco lunged at the
intruder. However, Yehuda proved too
quick. He grabbed Francisco in mid-air,
rammed him head first into the wall and threw him back onto the bed.
Josefina was about to punch in 911 on the phone when Yehuda
bounded onto the bed, grabbed the phone out of her hand, thres it against the
wall to shatter it and sank his claws into her abdomen. Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, Josefina
passed out from the pain and shock as he ripped out a good portion of her
abdomen. Yehuda then ripped open
Francisco’s abdomen.
The bedroom door swung open as the son, Pablo, ran in with a
baseball bat, yelling, “Die you demon!”
Without effort, Yehuda grabbed the bat out of the whelp’s hands, threw
it out the window and with expert deftness and inhuman speed blocked every blow
and kick Pablo attempted. “Enough of
this shit” Yehuda said in 13th Century German, grabbed Pablo by the
top of his arms and tossed him out of the bedroom into the hallway wall,
rendering him unconscious from the force.
He then went over to the boy, sinking his fangs into the boy’s neck to
enjoy the warmth and taste of the blood, and then ripped open his abdomen.
Despite the rage, Yehuda managed to proceed with his plan. He leapt out of the window, picked up the
gallon container of gasoline, climbed back into the bedroom and poured the
gasoline over the inert bodies of the parents and the son. He had just lit the bodies of the parents on
fire when he heard the police sirens.
“Damn it”, Yehuda screamed.
He dove out of the bedroom window into the Aguilos’ backyard,
leapt over the fence and jumped across the drainage runoff. However, he misjudged the distance and had
to bounce off the fence and onto the street.
“Damn it all to Hell” Yehuda hissed in 16th Century
Novgorodian Russian.
He started to jog to the walkway connecting Lievry Way to Crescent
when he heard footsteps.
“The sirens must have woken that accursed Yosef Ben-Avraham”
he thought to himself.
He then ran at full speed and turned left onto Crescent and then
right onto Patton Parkway. He couldn’t
shake Yosef and then decided to take the shortest distance to his car, going
behind Marina High School, running through the brush, jumped over the chain
link fence into the back of the Marina Tow parking lot, while taking out taking
out his remote in one smooth motion, pointed it at his BMW and then leapt
through the open moon roof into the now running car. Driving back to his headquarters, Yehuda regained his complete
composure.
Driving through the main gate, the minions he had guarding the
front entrance stopped him to verify his identity. Yehuda was glad they did the job they were trained to do. Even he was not exempt from being
challenged.
Yehuda then went up to his quarters, showered and changed into his
ten thousand dollar suit, becoming his current alias of Vladimir Ivanov,
Russian mobster on the rise. He entered
his office adjacent to his quarters.
Yehuda/Vladimir had set up shop at the shut down National Refractories
& Mineral Corp.’s complex, next to the power plant in Moss Landing. He purchased the buildings and land three
years earlier through one of his numerous front companies. Sitting behind his desk, which he positioned
so the power plant’s monstrous smoke stacks could be seen through the window,
providing the perfect backdrop to accentuate his equally monstrous ego. The desk and the chair he sat in had
belonged to Louis XVI of France and he “rescued” them from Maximilien
Robespierre.
He then checked his cell phone.
Nothing on his voicemail and no text messages left. He feared the worse about Isabella and, even
more so, Scott.
Yehuda was angry with himself both for almost being caught by
Yosef ben-Avraham and about his rampage.
However, his anger was not about the madness that had overtook him and
caused him to go on a rampage. That
madness always came every few years but the difference this time was his
inability to maintain any real control, unlike the times in past
centuries. The fact his rampage almost
caused his plans to unravel increased the ferocity of his anger.
Yehuda knew his actions had been amateurish and stupid. The two things he did with any sort of
intelligence were using gasoline to burn the bodies, which covered his scent,
and to have Isabella and Scott ensure his getaway.
His forearms resting on the handmade oak desk, fists clenched in
rage, he slammed both his fists on the desk, causing the penholder to fall and
spill its contents. Just then Michael
Vincente, his main mortal lieutenant, buzzed.
“YES!” Yehuda replied with anger in his voice but remembering to
use his Rostov-on-the-Don Russian accent.
“Mr. Ivanov, is everything okay?” Michael asked, referring to his
boss by the name he knew him by.
“Not really, Michael, but nothing that is your fault. Please, come in. There are a few things I will need to go over with you before the
representatives from the Tres Equis gang get here.”
“That is what I wanted to tell you about, Mr. Ivanov. They just arrived at the gate and should be
ready to meet with you in a few minutes.”
“Come in anyway, Michael.
They can wait and are not nearly as important as the matter I must discuss
with you.”
Yehuda buzzed open the door to his office and Michael entered.
“Please, Michael, have a seat.”
Michael sat in the chair, as well upholstered and built as the one
Yehuda sat in, directly in front of the desk.
“What is it you wanted to speak to me about, Mr. Ivanov?”
“I know that Isabella and Scott must be dead. I should have heard back from them by now.”
“They could be hurt, their phones could have been damaged. There are many possible reasons why they
haven’t contacted you.”
“No, if they engaged Joseph Abrams and lost, they are dead. Joseph is not one to go out of his way to
kill but he would know he was engaged in a fight to the death. He has no compunction against killing, he
just doesn’t like to.”
“Mr. Ivanov, I know Isabella is, I mean, was a good friend but
Scott was someone special to you. He
figured significantly in your future plans.”
“You are correct on both points, Michael. However, what I planned for Scott when it
came to leadership and responsibility is something you are by far and away
better suited for. You have proven to
be an excellent leader, responsible, intelligent, wise, loyal and
trustworthy. I apologize for not
recognizing that earlier and, from now on, when we are talking in private, call
me Vladimir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ivan, oops, I mean, Vladimir. You have earned the respect of all of us in
your organization. Now, if I may be so
bold, I couldn’t help but notice you were angry when I buzzed you. I know you are upset about the probable
deaths of Scott and Isabella but it seemed like something else was bothering
you.”
“You are very astute, Michael” Yehuda said as he stood up and
walked over to the handcrafted mahogany credenza. He picked up the vase standing on it and continued, anger rising
in his voice. “I have put forth much
effort and expended much energy in building up this organization and preparing
my plans. Now, because I let my thirst
for retribution get the better of me, I may have let it all become
unraveled.” Yehuda’s voice now reached
a crescendo, as he yelled, “DAMN JOSEPH
ABRAMS TO THE LOWEST DEPTHS OF HELL!”
and threw the vase against the wall, shattering it into scores of
pieces.
As Yehuda stared at the ruined vase, Michael, after waiting a few
seconds, spoke up. “Vladimir, perhaps
your recklessness may end up being what furthers your plans against Joseph
Abrams. You have the reputation for
being methodical, always being in control, always being organized. The very sloppiness that you attribute to
your actions tonight will prevent Joseph and anyone else from even entertaining
the thought you were the one who attacked the Aguilos family.”
“Michael, once again, you have proven yourself worthy of being the
number 2 person in the organization.
And my apologies for my outburst.
It was something I should not have done.”
“Vladimir, part of why you trust and respect me is that I know it
is my job to help you see things clearly and from a different perspective. And I know better than to let anyone see you
are less than perfect, less than always being in control. However, you owe me no apologies. After all, you are allowed to slip up since
you are only human.
”But wasn’t that vase a gift from Joseph? You said it always had a value to you that
was worth more than its worldly price.”
“That is true Michael. It
is, I means, was a Ming vase, made during the reign of the Emperor Yongle. Joseph gave it to me to symbolize the value
he placed on our friendship. Now, like
our friendship, it is shattered. And
just like our friendship, even if it was put back together, it would forever
have pieces missing, never be as strong as it once was and never have the worth
it once had.”
“However, to get
back to the original purpose of why I am came in here. The minnows who think they are sharks are
here and we shouldn’t keep them waiting too long.”
“We have indeed
kept them waiting long enough. It is
time to reel them in.”
“And what of
these?” Michael asked, pointing to the shattered pieces of the vase.
“Leave it.
I’ll throw them out when we are done dealing with the Tres Equis.”
