Page 2 of From Russia With Blood

“They - they told me it was better this way. They promised -.”

“Let me guess. They promised to turn you, didn’t they?” That was the one thing Jerry lacked. The one thing I refused to give him. The look on his face says it all. That’s exactly what they promised. I look down at the floor at the scattered remains of the vampires I walked in on, limbs scattered to every corner. I don’t envy the cleanup crew; I didn’t exactly make it easy on them. The fact that they had the audacity to come into my realm spoke volumes of their lack of intelligence. “What did you promise them in return?

He doesn’t speak. Instead, his whimpers start up again, the incessant whining that grates along my already raw nerves. Bending low, I squat down, careful to keep my pristine clothes away from the blood. These vampires were young, rash, bold in a way that only stupidity can be.

Gripping the head of the nearest vampire, I reach into his mouth and grasp his fang, wrenching it out of his mouth. The sickening sound of squelching and crunching fills the room, almost drowning out Jerry’s not-so-silent pleas. I turn my attention to the other fang, adding it to my growing collection. One by one, I make my rounds, grabbing up the fangs until my pocket bulges with them.

Even gods like to have trophies. Though they each suffered the true death, there’s still that thrilling satisfaction in knowing that even if there’s a beyond, they’ll face it unable to feed. Knowing those jackasses, they’ll still somehow find a way. Reaching into my pocket, I fondle the fangs, brushing my fingertips across the sharp points, pressing down until at the point of puncturing myself before pulling away.

Seven. Seven vampires infiltrated my lair, led in by a human too stupid to function. “Tell me, Jerry.” I turn my gaze back towards him, diving deep into his mind, taking hold. “I demand you to tell me.” As anticipated, not much is there. I slip into his consciousness with barely any effort. Pity. I was hoping for more of a challenge.

“I promised them girls. All the girls they could want. I-”

“Yes?”

“I promised them you.”

Tisking softly, I stride back over to his bloated form. It’s not his betrayal that surprises me - humans are so fickle. They strive for the bigger, better deal. What surprises me is that he actually thought he could get away with it.

“Have I ever told you how old I am?” I bring up my hands to inspect my nails, smirking as the tips glint in the dim lighting.

“N-no, sir.”

“Oh, so now it’s sir? Funny how being strung up finally gets me honorifics. I should perhaps do this with all my humans. Let them know from the very start not to fuck with me. Is that why you did it? Did I never show you my strength? I’m five hundred and sixty-two, by the way. At least for a few more weeks. And did you know that in my nearly six centuries of experience, I’ve never come across a human as stupid and useless as you?”

He slumps forward at my words, as if the utterances alone are hurting him. Pathetic. I run my nail across the side of his face - not hard enough to score - just enough to feel the rasp of flesh against me. “Why, Jerry?”

“They told me you were on your way out. You were ineffective. If I had any chance of making a good living, I’d need to pick a better side - a winning side.”

“I see, and how’s that working out for you?” He slumps again, and I resist the urge to laugh in his face. “All this destruction. All this chaos. All of it is your fault. That dead whore over there - your fault. I want to make it very clear that her death lies on your hands and yours alone.”

Craning his neck, he looks at her, still, serene, a smile gracing her lips even as she hangs there from cold, unfeeling chains. “She should be upstairs making me money and having the time of her life, but no. You lead her down here to make a deal. Did you not think there’d be consequences to her freaking out? Most vampires, especially the young ones, cannot contain themselves around the stench of fear. Their demons come out to play with just a whiff of acrid adrenaline.”

A smile curls up my lips as I circle him, noting every tense and straining muscle. “We are predators, a very primal sort. The hunt is what calls to us. After centuries, that’s what most of us live for. We thrive on the scent of fear, much like the scent you’re putting off. Difference is, I can control myself. That’s fantastic news for me, but not so much for you. This means I can most certainly play with my food.”

The widening of his eyes reveals the true depths of his terror as I stalk even closer. Forget the smell of piss; it’s the stench of fear that hugs his body like a second skin soon to slough off, as it should. Though I can be lenient in the right circumstances, nothing about what happened here tonight deserves anything less than pure agony. The vile aroma of his sweat as it pours from his body sets my gums to aching.

“Anything else you wish to say to me?” At the rapid shake of his head, I nod and grab the back of his head. “Open.” His jaw clenches up, tightening his face. He quivers under the strain of trying to fight me off, reject me from his mind. It’s a feeble attempt, but it’s there all the same. He’s too weak to fully break from my spell, yet another mark against him.

Humans really should try to use their brains for more than the next big score. It would serve them so much better in the long run. But then, if they started doing that, they wouldn’t be predictable. In increments, his mouth opens under my command. A smile crosses my lips as I use my other hand to secure his jaw so he can’t close it again.

I made the right decision to not feed from him. The smell of alcohol and bile rises from his throat as he breathes on me, turning my stomach in a way that hasn’t happened in decades. Fear and death flow off of him with each terrified dry heave. Fat tears roll down his face as he shakes his head.

With a wrench of my wrist, I pull his jaw to the side in a smooth motion, snapping it out of place, dislocating it with ease. The snap reverberates against my fingers, sending shivers through me. His howls of agony skitter down my spine, settling deep in my balls. I never feel more alive than when I’m causing pain to another, and this time is no different.

His jaw hangs a bit off to the side, leaving his mouth in a permanent gape. Inhuman screams pepper the air as the pain of my actions light up his brain. In vain, he tries to close his mouth, to put right what I put to chaos, but it doesn’t work. With the force I used, I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually broke it.

The moment he encounters any pain or resistance, he lets his mouth go slack again, giving him a more muted agony. His eyelids flutter a bit as his body decides if it wants to stay conscious with the pain or drift into painless oblivion.

After a few more moments, he loses the battle and goes limp in his chains. I let him. We’re only getting started after all, and I have all the time in the world. As he sways, I fire off several emails. I don’t typically like doing things as mundane as work during my torture sessions, but this little coup set me back in a bad way. I’ll be damned if I lose my standing over this little shit.

Jerry was supposed to man the annual Halloween cruise - the one event that provides us with amazing stock to replace those that are just too worn out to take the beatings my patrons require. More important than that is keeping up my image. No new stock, and I appear weak. Not that my standing won’t be questioned if news of this small rebellion gets out.

Fucker. Cruise ships aren’t my thing - never have been and never will be - but Jerry left me with no choice. My life is being turned upside down because of a stupid, insignificant human. It’s the added insult to injury. I expect other vampires to come for me and my position. It’s a dance we’ve had since I’d first come into power...but a human!

On principle, I drive the steel tip of my shoe into his ribs, holding back enough that I merely crack them instead of breaking them. Can’t have the blood bag dying before I give him permission. That would be far too lenient for someone like him - a human cockroach. Sighing, I send off one more email to Dimitri.

I don’t trust anyone, but he’s the closest. I’ll need him to manage the club and ferret out any other humans with balls bigger than brains. The fact that I even need help in this matter makes my fangs descend again, venom dripping from their razor-sharp points. Irritation flares in my gut as I craft my message, making it explicit that any suspects are to be detained and not killed. I don’t want him taking my fun from me. A soft groan pricks my ears, alerting me to Jerry’s consciousness.