Rain is a brand new project, I never expected to write anything like so I blame my publisher Gaynor.
So here goes…
One.
“Rain,” he sighed, “why does it always rain when I go out to hunt?” Rick rubbed at his tired brow. His grey prison shirt stick to his skin as the rain lashed at his emotionless face. He shook his head slowly, letting out a testy breath and leapt up the wall clinging to it with his talon like claws.
“Nothing doing here,” Rick muttered to himself as he surveyed the empty street fifty feet below. With a second leap he was on the roof top staring out at the sea that rose and fell beneath the gaze of the moon.
“How do Rick,” the voice said from a behind a billboard where three sodium lamps cast their jaundice eyes over the picture of the latest pinup.
“John,” Rick said without turning. “Any surprises for me tonight?” He looked over his shoulder toward the billboard, keeping his claws extended at the ready.
“There are too few of us left for that kind of tomfoolery,” John stepped out from his hiding place tugging at his collar he sauntered over to Rick.
“Too true. It seems that these days people just can’t handle the change like they used to,” Rick picked at his teeth blackened with a claw.
“Do you ever cut those,” John took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a cheap lighter much to Rick’s amusement. “What?” John said perching the cigarette in the corner of his mouth.
“You should give that up it’s a filthy habit,” Rick sheathed his claws as he stroked his hair back from his face.
“I tried once it nearly killed me,” John smiled back. “Do my ears deceive me or is that the patter of tiny feet that I hear?” The two of them leaned over the edge of the roof to peer into the street below.
“Jeez, she’s all yours,” John screwed up his face at the sight of the hooker who was clearly past her best.
“I’m too hungry to care,” Rick stepped off the roof.
“I’ve got my image to think of,” John flicked his cigarette end at his disappearing friend then followed him down to the street.
“Get away from me you stinking bloodsucker,” the old hooker staggered Rick with a strong right hand to his chin. “You ain’t the first to try and you ain’t going to be biting me anytime soon either.” Rick backed away his hands raised toward the woman as she rained down blow after blow at his head until she had beat him to the ground. He could see John doubled up with laughter just behind the woman. Before she turned around she stamped on Ricks knee grinding her stiletto heel into his flesh.
“Now that’s enough lady,” John wiped the tears from eyes, “I can’t take any more.” John leapt up to the safety of an old iron fire escape.
“Now you get yourself down here boy so I can whoop you too,” the old hooker pointed the ground at her feet. “No?” she stood with her hands on her hips tapping her foot. Her battered handbag slipped from her shoulder jolting her to one side but she never lost eye contact with John. “Don’t you go sneaking up behind me now,” she waved a podgy finger at Rick.
“I’m not after you no more,” Rick inspected the damage to his knee.
“What you boys doing on my turf anyhow?” The old hooker attempted to straighten out her silver and gold Lurex dress but the underlying flesh refused to make it look any better.
“Your turf?” John clawed his way along the wall keeping a discreet distance between him and the woman.
“Like I said, my turf. I fought for these streets and I won them fair and square. The old man agreed to keep his stinking butt out of here so these streets are mine,” she said with pride.
“You know the old man?” Rick poked a claw into the hole in his knee sealing it up with a hiss of acid.
“What kind of bloodsucker are you boy? I ain’t never seen any of your kind do that before.”
“I can’t fix everything but most things I can,” Rick looked up at the sky, “Always the rain.”
“When did you last see the old man?” John sat himself down on a trash can.
“I ain’t seen that old stinker for a while now you mention it,” the old whore took a seat near to the boys where she could keep an eye on them both. “He’s been staying at the old bone yard on Kepple for the last few years, he don’t trust no one. Why do you ask anyhow?”
“He owes us,” Rick said coldly.
“He owes me too, took my best girls and sends his goons to keep customers off my turf, it’s only four blocks ain’t like it’s the whole damn town.”
“Seems we have a common interest,” Rick looked at John, “How about we do a deal, you tell us how you get in bone yard and we let you live?”
“How about I just beat you all up again and walk up and down on your skinny ass until the sun rises and burns you to ash?” the old whore stared at the boys just daring them to try and take her down. “I promise you boys you’ll old Mable is more than a match for a couple blood suckers. I’d just love to show you exactly what I can do if you piss me off.”
John seized the moment to lunge at Mable who grabbed his jacket and rolled him to the ground where she sat on his chest grasped him by the throat and lifted his face to hers, “My turn to feed.” Mable’s face peeled open to reveal the beast within.
“Shit! Rick!” John clawed at Mable’s chest tearing through her clothes and flesh. He tried to scream but Mable was too quick. She pulled him close and kissed him her tongue filling his mouth forcing it wide open. Glowing green tendrils snaked out from her body where John had opened wounds. The tendrils, each tipped with a barbed spike, formed a cage around them. John’s body convulsed as the spiked tendrils penetrated his flesh. Mable rose to her feet with John dangling from the tendrils like a decoration on a festive tree.
“Stay where you are boy,” Mable sneered. “He’ll live, for now. If he can heal like you then he’ll be just fine.” As Mable spoke her voice softened her body grew lean and comely.
“What are you?” Rick eyes glowed white with rage his claws lengthened.
“I’m a bad girl,” Mable said with a pout, “I just wanted to drink his soul, is that so bad?” Mable drew her tendrils back into her body gently lowering John at Rick’s feet, “There, see no harm done. He’s such a sweaty too.”
“What are you Mable?” Rick asked again his flesh drawn tight across his body like a skeleton in a grey skin shroud.
“Back off boy, you can’t hurt me,” Mable lashed out a tentacle at Rick missing him completely. Rick landed behind Mable stabbing her in the back with his curved claws. Mable screamed and tried to turn but found herself rooted to the spot.
“I have you by the spine bitch just give me a reason to rip out your spinal cord and strangle you with it,” Rick hissed in Mable’s ear.
“Let me go or die boy,” Mable growled back at him.
Rick adjusted his grasp so that he held one of her vertebrae between his forefinger and thumb and slowly began to rotate the bone. Mable screamed again thrusting her head back. “I can hear your thoughts,” Rick gasped as he felt Mable’s pain. “Keep those whips to yourself.” With his other hand he grabbed a handful of Mable’s hair and yanked her head sideways exposing her neck. He could see her jugular throbbing with life. He opened his mouth wide exposing his viper-like fangs and bit as hard as he could. Blood spurted into his mouth cold as the night and ashen.
Rick spat what he had in mouth out onto the ground shoving Mable into the ground face first where she lay gasping and retching. Instinctively she reached a hand up to her neck and plugged the holes with her fingers.
“What are you bitch, you taste of dirt?” Rick stepped on her back grinding his heel into the wound. Mable writhed in agony. Rick reached down lifted Mable bodily from the ground by her scalp and turned her around to face him. “Any funny stuff and I’ll cut you to ribbons,” Rick grasped her free arm with his left hand sinking his claws in until they scraped against her bones.
“What happened to me?” John staggered to his feet doubled over with his head between his hands and threw up.
“Take it easy I have Mable in hand,” Rick released his grasp on Mable’s head holding her instead by her mouth with a claw pierced through her tongue. He stared into her eyes as though he were searching for something. With a flick of his wrists he shoved her backward and walked slowly around her.
“Let me go,” Mable pleaded her lip quivering, “please, let me go. I meant no harm.”
“Do I look like I care?” Rick’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Now, you tell us all about yourself or I’ll rip you to bits just for the fun of it.”
“What do you want to know?” Mable almost fell back onto the trash can, “Let my mind go so that I can think,” she swallowed hard.
“No,” Rick looked down at his shoes, “you know I might just get the info my way.” He was on her in an instant one claw in each ear their foreheads pressed together. His white eyes glowed like fire flies as he searched her mind for answers.
“Rick,” John pulled himself straight, “Rick!” he repeated. Rick stepped away and let Mabel fall to the ground her chest heaving as though she had just run for her life. Rick kicked her in her mid section and walked away. “What was that about man? I’ve never seen that before, not from anyone,” John said in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know. I just saw myself doing it and the next thing I know I was doing it. I don’t know what she is but she ain’t human that’s for sure.” Rick looked up and down the street. “How long have I been a vampire John? I’ve no idea,” he held his hands up then dropped them to his sides. “Where did I get this shirt?” he tugged at the tattered prison shirt that was now soaked with Mabel’s blood. “At least the bloody rain’s stopped.”
“You know, I don’t remember either,” John walked over to Mable tapping her with his foot he said; “made a right mess of her.” John knelt beside Mable and wiped his finger in her blood.
“I wouldn’t,” Rick warned screwing his face up.
“Tastes like crap!” John spat it back at her. He stood up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Can I help you boys,” an old tramp staggered out of his hiding hole behind a dumpster. He stared at them through his booze filtered vision, swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, then staggered over to Mable. “What happened to the lady?”
“Nothing, now shove off before the same nothing happens to you,” John smiled at the man, baring his fangs.
The tramp stared at them, trembling he backed away his mouth hung open.
“You still hungry,” Rick jerked his thumb toward the tramp, “this one’s well preserved.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
A light rain began to fall as Rick and John turned their attention toward the tramp. In the last beat of the old tramp’s heart the two boy’s seized him by the shoulders and took him to the rooftops for a moonlight supper.
