[DFM]

I trek back through the sewers and crawl out of the manhole near the dumpster that serves as Tin Can Bill's final grave.



It's been a few days since I've smelled this god-awful. At least I've got a good shower and a change of close waiting at my haven.

Apartment.

I meant to say apartment, I'm not starting this fruity language bullshit.



It looks like that abandoned warehouse runs the full length of the block. If I could cut through there I could save a lot of time walking to the apartment.



Hopefully Heather isn't there, but that's kind of like hoping the sun isn't going to rise.



It's quiet inside the warehouse, muffled, like the whole place is holding its breath until I go away.



Something's watching me. Not the thousand eyes of Ocean House or the devil's black hole of Pisha's fetish but something real, something tangible. I see a large shadow just through darkness as it scurries across the rafters.



"Just stay up there, let me through, and we can all be on our way without any blood or ectoplasm or whatever getting splattered all over the walls, alright?"

There isn't an answer, just a stifled silence and the penetrating stare of unseen eyes.



I suppose that might actually be an answer.

I open the unlocked door on the far side of the warehouse and step out onto the street.



I don't know if dying gets you some special all-expenses-paid ticket to freaksville but for having seen nothing like this my entire life, I'm bumping into unnatural monstrosities at an alarming rate.



Home sweet home. Nothing like coming back to a hot shower, clean clothes, and a pet dyke.



I still don't know what I'm going to do about her. It might be useful to have someone like her around, even just as a gopher. And I can probably throw more resources at her career and education than she could ever get on her own, so it's sort of a humanitarian gesture, too.



Her brain's pretty frazzled by the whole thing and she's spent more energy trying to get through my clothes than most gold-digging guys I've met, but apparently being a saint's too much to ask.



She looks nervous. She's fidgeting. Dear god, what's she done now?



"Helen! You're back! Um..." Her enthusiasm falters.

"Heather?"

"Well... I, um... I went out this evening and I... well, I met this guy and he kept... he kept hitting on me, I mean he wouldn't leave me alone which is weird because normally guys don't give me the time of day but-"

"Heather."

"W-Well I... I mean, I couldn't figure out what to do but then I thought... um... I got him to come back here with me because... um... I thought you might want to... you know... since you're..." She swallows and tries to straighten her hair. "...a... vampire, I mean... I thought you might want to... you know, want to..." She cringes, like she's suggesting I murder a child. "...drink his blood?"

I groan and rub my temple, trying to clear the headache I can feel coming on.



"Um... I... I locked him in the bathroom, I..." She takes a step back and hangs her head, wrapping her arms around her waist. She frowns before looking back up at me. "...Did I mess up?"



"Yes, Heather, you messed up." I push her aside and make my way up the stairs. "I'll deal with this, you just sit in the corner and think about what you've done."



I hear her say she's sorry before I disappear into the bedroom. Great. Now I've got some sleazy kidnapping victim to deal with. I'd just shoot him through the door and be done with it, but chances are he's human and the body isn't just going to go away.



I suppose the best thing would be to get him out of here while making sure he doesn't bring back any trouble.



"Hey! What the hell is this shit!? Let me out, goddamnit! When I get my hands on that crazy bitch-"

"I'm sure you'll do something scary."

He practically screams in my face. "As soon as I get out of here I'm calling the goddamn cops! Let's see what THEY think of this, huh? I'll them lock up BOTH your-"

I grab him by the throat and slam his head against the bathroom mirror, sending shards of broken glass crashing to the counter and the tiled floor below.

"I don't think you really 'get' the situation you're in."

I pull his head back and slam it into the wooden backdrop again before I let go of his throat and grab him by hair. There's blood covering his face and bits of glass are still sticking through his skin. He screams while I force him to his knees and shove his head through the open toilet seat. I shove it down as far as I can and then grab the seat with both hands, slamming it down on the back of his head until the air bubbles start becoming sporadic.

"Because if you did you'd have been begging me to let you live the moment I walked through that door." I manage to keep my voice even, despite the strain. I suppose it helps not having to breath.

I grab his shoulders and throw him against the outside of the tub and crouch just in front of him, as he coughs up blood and water.

"Instead of your laughably pathetic attempt at intimidation."

He looks up, hyperventilating, and I smash the barrel of the glock into his forehead hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Unless you're still planning on impressing me with something scary."

He closes his eyes, begging in between coughing fits. I can't tell from all the water, but I think he's crying. I pull the gun away and tilt his face up towards me.

"You're going to crawl out of here on your hands and knees, and as soon as you leave the building, you're going to run. You're going to run away and never look back. And all the while I want you to remember-" I lift his head closer until I can smell the blood in his throat and I smile, fangs almost fully extended. "-That crazy bitch wanted me to eat you."

He scrambles out of the bathroom, still crying. I wring the toilet water out of my sleeves as best I can, thankful I didn't change before I'd dealt with Heather's admirer. I take a look at the ruined bathroom before closing the door and undressing. I'm taking a shower, glass strewn floor be damned.

I'll just have to get Heather get on top of fixing that. And cleaning up the sewage smell I probably left trailing through the house.



After the shower I head back into the bedroom, pulling clothes from the dresser. I don't know how I managed two nights in Santa Monica.



Heather's waiting for me on the lower story, watching the fish tank. She looks more scared than worried, now.



"Oh! A-a-a-" She backs away from me, almost tripping over my storage trunk.

"It's alright, Heather." For some reason, it doesn't feel good having her scared of me. I put a hand on her shoulder and smile. "Just... don't go kidnapping anybody else, alright?"

She nods, almost dumbly. "What... when he left, he... what did you do to him?"

"Ancient vampire mind powers."

"Oh." She nods again. "So... do you not... I mean... I was sure you said you drink blood."

"No, I... I drink blood, just... I mean..." What the hell am I stammering for? "I don't drink just any blood."



"Oh... because it turns them into vampires?"

"No, it doesn't... work like that, I don't even know how you make more vampires, but it isn't that simple. From what I understand if you're feeding from somebody, they just get kind of happy and light-headed for awhile."

"You mean you haven't... I mean..."

"No, I..." I cross my arms and look away. So much for the aura of mystery. "I'm kind of new to all of this."

"Oh." She looks away for a moment or two before glancing back at me. "Could you drink my blood?"

"No." I don't know if it's the answer I give or the speed that I give it, but she looks dejected. What's with her? "I'm sure it's great, Heather, I just..."

"What?"

What am I suppose to say? I won't drink your blood because it'd be kind of gay.

"Because we're bonded. It'd be no different from just drinking my own blood. Not, you know, all that helpful."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense..."

"Anyway, I've decided to let you stay on. You can stay here, run errands, clean up and we'll have slumber parties and lattes in our spare time."

"Oh, thank you!" She leaps at me and locks me in a hug. After awhile I hug her back, because what the hell, right?

"When things settle down we can watch movies and braid each other's hair or whatever it is vampires and ghouls are supposed to do, but right now my ancient vampire magic left a mess of glass and water in the bathroom you should clean up."

"Okay!" She almost snaps to attention. "I'll get right on it, you won't be sorry."



Go get 'em, tiger.



I almost wish I hadn't found out about Lily, or hadn't overreacted like I did.



It'd be awfully nice to have a steady supply of these things.

I throw the bag in the microwave for a bit and sit down on the couch, fangs digging into the deliciously warm bag.



"...has reported tears of blood on at least five of the cathedral's maiden statues, something many amongst the evangelical community are declaring a 'dark omen'. Religious officials, however, say the crying statues have been a proven hoax in the past, and these witnesses are no more credible than those who've claimed to see UFOs..."



God, I can't even turn on the news anymore without ghost shit popping up.



Alright, enough of a breather. I need to find Bishop Vick and the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle and stop them before they come with a stupider fucking name.



I leave the building and glance down at the crumpled paper in my hand. A skull with some kind of star behind it. I guess I'll have to ask around.



Not that I have any idea where to begin, and if I just start shoving the paper in people's face and asking what's up, doc? there's a good chance I'll attract the wrong kind of attention from-



Fucking hell.



Is that some kind of directional marker, or...



I guess a carefully hidden compound wouldn't be easy on recruitment.



Front door's boarded up. Must be an entrance around back.







There's a man inside waiting behind chicken wire glass, probably bullet resistant.



"Welcome, sister. Are you enlightened?"

I slam the paper up against the glass.

"I'm here to see Bishop Vick."

"Of course, sister. I'll buzz you through."

The door swings open and I step deeper inside the building. Musty, old, and filled with a stench greater than anything I can remember.



Why can't this shit ever happen in the Hilton?



There's a woman near the end of the room who's busy looking scared. Might be worth it to pump her for information.

"Hey, you."



"Hey! Di-did you get s-s-summoned? You're going up-upstairs to see the... bishop?" She stammers, constantly glancing over her shoulder at some perceived attacker.

"Bishop?" Never hurts to play clueless.

"Oh, You're n-new to the Brotherhood, huh? Just got... enlightened? I - I've been here a few... days. When the bishops wants to see you, y-you'll be summoned... a-and then you go up these um, these stairs... up to the... the t-temple."

"What's in the temple?"



"I-I don't know, I m-mean, I-I hear things, but-but I haven't been summoned. I-I had a friend... snuck up there a few days ago... s-said she saw things... bad... bad things, yeah."

I adopt the most easy going posture I can.

"What things did she see?"

"Mm, blood. She said, umm, b-blood, everywhere. She um... She s-saw a few of the s-summoned, t-tried to uh... oh, to talk to them, but they just... just s-stared at her with these, umm... these 'wooo' blank looks, yaknow. N-oh, one of them, uh, s-started reching for her, a-and she... she ran away. She tried... to leave a-a-after that. I have... haven't seen her. She m-must have... must have made it."

"I don't imagine that was very encouraging."

"Yeah yeah... I k-know. The b-bishop said, we have to shed our umm... our uh... our earthly f-f-fears on our j-journey to the Ninth C-circle, but I'm umm, scared to go upstairs. I... I just uh... I just, I just wanna go home. Y'know, I wanna go home."

"You will. Bishop Vick's brought about an ending he didn't intend."



I leave the girl and make my way up the stairway she'd indicated. I can hear noises from upstairs. Shuffling, slithering... muttering.



There's something comforting about the fact that even hell spawned horrors buckle underneath good old fashioned hollow point.



I near the top of the stairway and the sounds start getting louder. I feel... strange. I think it's... excitement. I'm looking forward to this.



Someone's facing away from me. Something, I suppose is more accurate.



It hears me at the top of the stairs and turns around, one foot dragging behind it as it shuffles towards me.

I fire a burst from the Ingram and he crumples forward without another sound.



Well that was kind of a let down.



I turn the corner and see a few more of the summoned shuffling around.





If he was trying to make an army of unstoppable soldier's, Vick's got to be pretty fucking disappointed.



I jam a new magazine into the Ingram before slipping it back under my shirt.



John Romero must be turning in his grave.



Move further through the building, wading through several dozen restless dead and leaving several dozen sleepy dead behind me.



There aren't even that many of them, I don't have to worry about being swarmed from behind or running out of ammunition or anything.



Christ, even if I did run out of ammunition I could probably clock these stumbling things to death. Most of them can't even stand up.



I walk through a few more hallways, casually offing zombies that seem more like bubonic plague victims than undead hor-



Oh fuck I've just been killing sick people.