It is a scene that seems all too familiar to him, and yet strangely distant, this place. It. Feels like home. A home somehow long lost to him. And yet here he is. The small cottage in the glen, the narrow creek bed out behind it. The large thicket of woods just to the east of there. There it all is, right there before his very eyes, as clear as a picture, he knows that this is impossible, it can’t be, he hasn’t been here in so many years and yet here he is. The clear, brilliant blue skies, softly rolling pillows of white clouds, the air here is so clean it almost seems to burn his lungs to breathe it in. and in all this time the most important of details has escaped him. Just a boy he is. Enjoying the indulgences of childhood. Perhaps he is ten. Maybe eleven. Running through the grassy fields and across the rolling hills of Aberdale, his younger sister Ava in tow. Laughing, smiling, running through the fields. Chasing butterflies were you?
His eyelids begin to tighten around the sockets. His eyes themselves rolling almost impatiently trying to recapture the image. Slowly he focuses, almost willing it to return. The sun sits high in the sky, it is mid morning, they are running down a hillside now, the sun at their backs. A soft slow rolling breeze gently whips through Ava’s long dark locks, tossing them into her face. There is no sound here, no heat, nor cold. He watches with childlike curiosity as she loses her balance, stumbles and falls, almost moving in slow motion as her body tumbles down the grassy hillside. Everything around him seems to move even slower now, He runs to the bottom of the hill to catch up with her. But he can just feel it, something is terribly wrong. She lies still in a small ravine, her head sits at an awkward angle resting against a large jagged rock. She isn’t moving, he cocks his head to one side as he stares at her curiously, as the first drop of crimson blood slowly rolls from her mouth, “it was the first time that you saw human blood, wasn’t it? and most certainly, it wouldn’t be the last.”
Present Day.
It was the piercing sounds of police sirens that opened his eyes with a start, and forced him back to the here and now. The air was cold and thin outside, and it had started snowing, he rose to his feet and slowly moved to the edge of the bell tower, below the police cars hastily slid along the wet street as they headed east on Delorian, their sirens tearing through the still, cold early morning air like a knife. He climbed out onto the ledge of the abandoned church, and watched as another two cars whisked by with their lights flashing. The sirens now though had fallen strangely silent. As his dark eyes scanned the empty skyline he was filled with a sudden sense of dread, three blocks away on Columbus street the police had discovered another victim, the city claimed another. He moved quickly and quietly along the rooftops of dilapidated hotels and stores until the caravan of police cars in front of Favershams drug store on Columbus Street came into full view.
On the rooftop of the Martin Hotel next door there was movement, the police were putting up crime scene tape.
“Walk away from it deadman. This isn’t your concern.”
He ignored the voice that seemed to follow him everywhere and moved towards ground level, his curiosity drawing him closer to the crime scene. Staying out of the line of sight of the police, he moved unnoticed past the barricade and quietly up the stairwell leading to the rooftop. There he saw her lying on the cold wet tar roof, her dark brown eyes staring lifelessly skyward, she was beautiful, young, too young he thought, to have suffered such a fate. He closed his eyes and moved back into the shadows. Listening to their every word as if sorting through the clues with them.
“We have a female victim, probably somewhere between 17 and 22 years of age, no ID yet, but we’re still looking. Her skirt was pushed up, she was raped, her throat cut, she probably bled out right here on the spot. Doesn't feel like she‘s been dead for more than a couple of hours.”
The two officers turned their backs to him their voices falling into low mumbles as a third person joined them and all three bent down to inspect the deceased young girl. Then another came, he looked like a detective. He closed his eyes and he could clearly see her face, she smiled at him, talked to him, showed him kindness without even knowing who or what he was. Just ten short hours ago this beautiful young woman was brimming with life, with hope, a bright promising future, no doubt firmly within her grasp. But somehow, somewhere she took a wrong turn, took hold of the wrong hand, trusted the wrong person, and she‘d died for her kindness. He watched them unnoticed the entire time, he watched them load her body onto the gurney and carry her down the empty stairwell, at his feet he felt something peculiar, and knelt down to look more closely and found a small overturned purse, he quietly picked it up and withdrew deeper into the shadows.
The voices fell silent as the officers slowly one by one made their way back down to the street, until there was but one left on the rooftop. He could sense the anger, as the detective slowly began to pace, he lit a cigarette and paused to look out at the empty sleeping skyline of King’s Harbor. He lived in a world of monsters, monsters that preyed on beautiful young women, on the homeless, the despondent, on anyone or anything too weak to fight back. He almost made himself visible to him but thought better of it.
“Not yet Chapel,” he thought to himself. “Not just yet.”
He waited until the detective left the rooftop before stepping back into the light, he stepped nearer the street lamp and looked through the contents of the purse, removing the girls drivers license. Her name was Cassandra Dawkins she was 19 years old and lived at 413, 32nd street apt 10 B. he turned towards the stairwell pausing to be certain that no one was returning to the rooftop.
It didn’t take him long to gain entrance into apartment 10 B at 413 32nd Street. The residence was empty for the most part, the furnishings were sparse, an old couch, a couple of end tables, a few pictures scattered across the wall on either side of the small television.
“she didn’t have much.” he thought to himself.
He moved along the wall stopping at a smaller picture of Cassandra Dawkins posing beside of another young woman. He removed the picture from the frame and put it in his pocket and almost cautiously walked over to the living room window that overlooked Parish Park, his thoughts quickly returned to the detective on the rooftop where Cassandra Dawkins body had been discovered. There wasn’t but one police precinct in that district so he knew exactly where to take the purse. It was after all, evidence in a homicide. Now all he needed was a good story to tell them about where he had found it. He left the apartment and sought out the 15th precinct on Tasker Street.
It was an old fashion three story red brick building that seemed on the outside to be crumbling into decay, and when he’d entered through the front door the inside didn’t appear to be much better. They were cramped for space and people were working practically on top of each other. He approached the front desk, and the fat balding, round faced desk sergeant leaned forward and looked down at him. Chapel placed the purse on top of the counter in front of him.
“I’ll be turning this in then.” he told him.
The desk sergeant put on his glasses and inspected it. His eyes slowly looking Chapel’s large frame up and down.
“Just turning this in are ya?” he asked him sarcastically.
“Well yes. It doesn’t belong to me officer, and I’m sure that someone will be wanting it back.” he replied.
“Uh huh. Where’d ya find it?”
“In an alley behind Favershams drug store on Columbus.” He responded.
The desk sergeant turned to inquire about the homicide on Columbus but when he turned back to further question Chapel about where he’d found the purse he was no where to be seen.
The towering structure of the Delorian street cathedral had long since fallen into such disrepair that it had been all but abandoned and left to rot years ago. All that remained was a small, barely operational place of worship on the ground floor leaving the other ten floors deserted. Damp, cold and dark, it seemed a perfect place for him to seek shelter, how odd a vampire named Chapel seeking shelter, in of all places; a semi deserted church. He came in much the same way he’d left, through the bell tower. And almost immediately he could feel his presence, a much smaller male, a deviant, much younger too, he slowly raised his nose and sniffed, it was a rouge named Sipe. He was short, skinny, thin wiry build, long stringy brown hair and carried with him the obvious stench of death. He’d left behind him any semblance of humanity years ago. He was there in the shadows squatting over something. What? A body? He moved towards him, faint flickers of moonlight filtered through the holes in the rooftop and illuminated him enough for Chapel to see that he was feeding.
Sipe stopped, and slowly raised his head to look up at him, thin streams of crimson slowly drifted down along the sides of his mouth, his lips were drawn tight and were thin and black, his eyes a brilliant hue of red, his was smiling at Chapel. He began making shrill giggling noises, his voice resonated in his ears in a high pitch that sounded very much like a witches cackle, it annoyed him terribly.
“Why- helllooo Chapel. Nice. To see you again.” He held his smile, slowly wiping away the traces of blood along his chin with his sleeve.
“What have you done now Sipe?” Chapel began to circle him, the impatience growing more evident in his voice.
“What? This?” He slowly curled his long black finger nails, his eyes drifting back down towards the human remains.
He moved almost cautiously through the grass, searching for just the right spot, when he’d at last turned to the herd and motioned them to them edge of the water to drink. Though his senses were heightened he never seen, nor heard what was about to take his life from him. The large male lion never let his presence be known until he was at just the perfect striking distance, and once he’d struck his prey down, there would be no escape. that’s what predators do. that’s what they are good at. that’s their gift. They hide. They watch. They wait. And when the prey is at its most vulnerable. They strike with extreme prejudice. And they kill. But as is the irony of life. Nature can be a funny thing. And even the most ambitious predator, the most accomplished hunters, can themselves eventually become prey. He’d already proven himself the predator, but here he found himself running for his own life now, six women, six successful kills, but the seventh, oh unlucky number seven, she was still in play.
And what was it that saved her? It looked like a man, human even, but no human he’d ever seen was that fast, or that strong. He’d been running for what seemed like hours, endless city blocks, he’d ran, the cold, damp early morning air seemed to tear through his tired heaving lungs as they gasped for every precious breath he took. He stumbled and eventually fell. In some park now, he wasn’t sure exactly where, only that it was a place that he didn’t want to be. He struggled to his feet, only to feel them taken out from under him almost immediately, landing him hard against the cement sidewalk. The air once again leaving his body, the fire returned to his lungs and all he could do was lie there. Game over. From predator to prey. Now he began to hear it. That voice, that cold, deep, menacing voice.
“What are the words officer? That vow that they make you all take?”
He couldn’t answer. Gasping for air he tried to roll onto his side.
“Ahh Yes. I believe it is something along the lines of To protect and to serve. ”
He struggled to his knees and began crawling towards the bushes. Chapel sat perched on the back of the park bench. His elbow planted firmly on his knee, his chin on his palm. his forefinger resting along the side of his cheek.
He thought that if he could just make it to the shrubbery he’d have a chance, if he could only catch his breath. Perhaps the police training would kick in and he’d have even the slimmest of chances against this psycho. Chapel strangely calm, watched patiently from the park bench.
“Go ahead. Crawl away. Hide like an insect. Burrow yourself- little bug deep within the bowels of the Earth. Dig. Burrow. Until you reach China for all I care. It doesn’t matter where you go. Or where you hide. I. Will. Find you.”
Now Chapel was stalking circles around him, growing impatient with the game, smelling the fear. The sweat. Feeling the heart pounding in his chest, the blood coursing through his veins. And when he’d crawled out the other side and pulled himself clear of the underbrush, he could no longer contain his rage.
“Still think drinking that synthetic shit is going save what’s left of your undead soul Chapel?”
His eyes slowly turned red as he bent down to look his prey in the eyes. His cold undead fingers slowly circling his neck.
“So- Did you show them your badge? Is that why they thought that they could trust you? And then what? You just- Betrayed them? I too made a promise. So long ago. To myself. To what was left of my own dying humanity. I would never feed on an innocent. But you and I- we both know your dirty little secret don’t we? your no innocent.”
He tried in vain to struggle free from Chapel’s grasp, but his hands tightened even more around his jaw as he began to slowly pull him closer. His eyes became redder his canines slowly began to grow as he leaned towards his prey.“Oh. To be reduced. To prey. I. Can. Smell. You. Enjoy Hell. You won‘t be coming back.”
He would make his way through the city eventually ending up right back in the bell tower of the Delorian Street Cathedral. He sat and watched the snow falling eventually closing his eyes. And as suddenly as the night fell he could almost feel the warmth of the mid day sun slowly embrace his face. He was ten again. Running through those same golden fields of Aberdale. He turned his head and there was Ava once again running beside him. The image so crisp. So clear. He could almost feel his lips purse into a smile. Slowly as with everything, the image faded to black and the sun died down. The voice of Sipe strangely echoed through his mind as he slept.
“The age of innocence is over Chapel. There are no more Innocent’s left in the world. There’s only the haves, the have nots, and then there’s us..”
~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~
It was an old fashion three story red brick building that seemed on the outside to be crumbling into decay, and when he’d entered through the front door the inside didn’t appear to be much better. They were cramped for space and people were working practically on top of each other. He approached the front desk, and the fat balding, round faced desk sergeant leaned forward and looked down at him. Chapel placed the purse on top of the counter in front of him.
“I’ll be turning this in then.” he told him.
The desk sergeant put on his glasses and inspected it. His eyes slowly looking Chapel’s large frame up and down.
“Just turning this in are ya?” he asked him sarcastically.
“Well yes. It doesn’t belong to me officer, and I’m sure that someone will be wanting it back.” he replied.
“Uh huh. Where’d ya find it?”
“In an alley behind Favershams drug store on Columbus.” He responded.
The desk sergeant turned to inquire about the homicide on Columbus but when he turned back to further question Chapel about where he’d found the purse he was no where to be seen.
The towering structure of the Delorian street cathedral had long since fallen into such disrepair that it had been all but abandoned and left to rot years ago. All that remained was a small, barely operational place of worship on the ground floor leaving the other ten floors deserted. Damp, cold and dark, it seemed a perfect place for him to seek shelter, how odd a vampire named Chapel seeking shelter, in of all places; a semi deserted church. He came in much the same way he’d left, through the bell tower. And almost immediately he could feel his presence, a much smaller male, a deviant, much younger too, he slowly raised his nose and sniffed, it was a rouge named Sipe. He was short, skinny, thin wiry build, long stringy brown hair and carried with him the obvious stench of death. He’d left behind him any semblance of humanity years ago. He was there in the shadows squatting over something. What? A body? He moved towards him, faint flickers of moonlight filtered through the holes in the rooftop and illuminated him enough for Chapel to see that he was feeding.
Sipe stopped, and slowly raised his head to look up at him, thin streams of crimson slowly drifted down along the sides of his mouth, his lips were drawn tight and were thin and black, his eyes a brilliant hue of red, his was smiling at Chapel. He began making shrill giggling noises, his voice resonated in his ears in a high pitch that sounded very much like a witches cackle, it annoyed him terribly.
“Why- helllooo Chapel. Nice. To see you again.” He held his smile, slowly wiping away the traces of blood along his chin with his sleeve.
“What have you done now Sipe?” Chapel began to circle him, the impatience growing more evident in his voice.
“What? This?” He slowly curled his long black finger nails, his eyes drifting back down towards the human remains.
“oh- this? Oh this is just a snack Chapel ” he giggled.
With stunning speed he was on top of him, his strong hands clenched tightly around Sipe’s throat, he hurled him into the air sending him crashing into the brick wall some twenty five feet away. Sipe landed with a thud, stunned he tried to struggle to his knees as an angry Chapel drew closer.
He slowly backed up against the wall his eyes carefully studying his demeanor, looking him up and down nervously, any traces of the wicked humor that he displayed moments earlier had now disappeared, now he became fearful. His thin black lips began to quiver.
“What? Chapel?” He looked back at the body and then back up at him.
With stunning speed he was on top of him, his strong hands clenched tightly around Sipe’s throat, he hurled him into the air sending him crashing into the brick wall some twenty five feet away. Sipe landed with a thud, stunned he tried to struggle to his knees as an angry Chapel drew closer.
He slowly backed up against the wall his eyes carefully studying his demeanor, looking him up and down nervously, any traces of the wicked humor that he displayed moments earlier had now disappeared, now he became fearful. His thin black lips began to quiver.
“What? Chapel?” He looked back at the body and then back up at him.
“He isn’t Gonna turnnnn. I took too much of him.” he pointed towards the remains.
“why- he’s just a shell now Chapel..”
“You walking sack of Puss. You would dare feed on an innocent in MY den? I should remove your filthy head!”
Sipe silently stared at the body, his thin bony finger carefully waving small circles in the air in its direction before slowly withdrawing, his fingernails curled up into a ball as his gaze slowly returned to meet Chapels angry stare.
“Innocent? who? Him? Well, if you say so.”
His hands once again found their way around Sipe’s throat. He slowly pulled him up into the air his eyes never leaving him.
“So tell me, how long have you been in Kings Harbor Sipe?” He asked.
He slowly tucked his chin up against his chest, his red eyes began to wander aimlessly.
“Ummmm. Days? Nights? Weeks?” he shrugged. “Time? I don’t do time. Chapel. Been here awhile I suppose.”
His free hand moved into his coat pocket and produced the picture of Cassandra Dawkins, he held it up in front of Sipe’s eyes.
“I want you to think really hard now Sipe. Have you ever seen this girl before?”
His eyes slowly squinted as he leaned closer to the picture of Cassandra Dawkins. He began to lick his lips but then stopped, his eyes quickly returning to his angry stare. He looked back at the picture.
“Very nice Chapel. Yours?” He didn’t answer. “well she’s a little- too clean, for me anyways. You know I likes them- a bit more- rancid.”
He released his grip on him and allowed him to fall to the floor, slowly he walked back to the opening of the bell tower and silently stared out into the falling snow. Behind him he could hear Sipe beginning to stir again. Cautiously he approached from behind him, studying his demeanor carefully. Sipe turned to look out at the snow and then up at Chapel.
“Ahhhh. Girls- What? A friend of yours is she?”
He didn’t answer.
“Ahhhh poor Chapel. Still clinging to that last little drop of humanity that you think still lives inside of you somewhere. Well sorry to be the one to break it to you Chapel. But you ain’t been human in over four hundred years. You? Me? We’re nothing but fucking animals Chapel. Predators to the prey. Hunters. Gatherers. There’s no humanity left in the world Chapel. It’s all lost now. even to them.” he slowly moved up beside of him.
His voice fell into a husky whisper as he stared down at the snow covered landscape.
“You walking sack of Puss. You would dare feed on an innocent in MY den? I should remove your filthy head!”
Sipe silently stared at the body, his thin bony finger carefully waving small circles in the air in its direction before slowly withdrawing, his fingernails curled up into a ball as his gaze slowly returned to meet Chapels angry stare.
“Innocent? who? Him? Well, if you say so.”
His hands once again found their way around Sipe’s throat. He slowly pulled him up into the air his eyes never leaving him.
“So tell me, how long have you been in Kings Harbor Sipe?” He asked.
He slowly tucked his chin up against his chest, his red eyes began to wander aimlessly.
“Ummmm. Days? Nights? Weeks?” he shrugged. “Time? I don’t do time. Chapel. Been here awhile I suppose.”
His free hand moved into his coat pocket and produced the picture of Cassandra Dawkins, he held it up in front of Sipe’s eyes.
“I want you to think really hard now Sipe. Have you ever seen this girl before?”
His eyes slowly squinted as he leaned closer to the picture of Cassandra Dawkins. He began to lick his lips but then stopped, his eyes quickly returning to his angry stare. He looked back at the picture.
“Very nice Chapel. Yours?” He didn’t answer. “well she’s a little- too clean, for me anyways. You know I likes them- a bit more- rancid.”
He released his grip on him and allowed him to fall to the floor, slowly he walked back to the opening of the bell tower and silently stared out into the falling snow. Behind him he could hear Sipe beginning to stir again. Cautiously he approached from behind him, studying his demeanor carefully. Sipe turned to look out at the snow and then up at Chapel.
“Ahhhh. Girls- What? A friend of yours is she?”
He didn’t answer.
“Ahhhh poor Chapel. Still clinging to that last little drop of humanity that you think still lives inside of you somewhere. Well sorry to be the one to break it to you Chapel. But you ain’t been human in over four hundred years. You? Me? We’re nothing but fucking animals Chapel. Predators to the prey. Hunters. Gatherers. There’s no humanity left in the world Chapel. It’s all lost now. even to them.” he slowly moved up beside of him.
His voice fell into a husky whisper as he stared down at the snow covered landscape.
“why- Just look at the way they live. Look at the way they treat each other. Half of them have to live inside of a bottle just to make life bearable.“ he looked up at him again. “So what about this girl?”
He looked down at Sipe.
“She was murdered last night. Left to rot on top of a building.”
“Ahhhh. Murdered ay?” his voice changed slightly. Now he gently took the picture from Chapels fingers and studied it more closely.
“ohhhh yeah. I’ve seen this one before. She was passing out fliers for some homeless shelter over on Burke Street I think. Last time I saw she was talking to one of them Cops.” he looked up at Chapel who now had his back turned to him and was putting a flask of some sort in his pocket.
He cocked his head to one side and studied him.
“Still think drinking that synthetic shit is going to save what’s left of your undead soul Chapel?”
“Wait- what Cop?”
“Yeeeeaaah. Tall blond guy. He’s gotta scar travelin along his chin. He almost caught me once. I had to give up on this delicious little morsel that I was following because he was poking around all nervous like. Came out of an alley down by Deweys bar. Couple of hours after closing.” Sipe turned and stared out into the falling snow with Chapel.
He looked down at Sipe.
“She was murdered last night. Left to rot on top of a building.”
“Ahhhh. Murdered ay?” his voice changed slightly. Now he gently took the picture from Chapels fingers and studied it more closely.
“ohhhh yeah. I’ve seen this one before. She was passing out fliers for some homeless shelter over on Burke Street I think. Last time I saw she was talking to one of them Cops.” he looked up at Chapel who now had his back turned to him and was putting a flask of some sort in his pocket.
He cocked his head to one side and studied him.
“Still think drinking that synthetic shit is going to save what’s left of your undead soul Chapel?”
“Wait- what Cop?”
“Yeeeeaaah. Tall blond guy. He’s gotta scar travelin along his chin. He almost caught me once. I had to give up on this delicious little morsel that I was following because he was poking around all nervous like. Came out of an alley down by Deweys bar. Couple of hours after closing.” Sipe turned and stared out into the falling snow with Chapel.
“Ohhh. This is about the Bettenhurst Slasher. He’s the one that got your girl. Well, the Bettenhurst district IS a slum. Aawwww. Poor Chapel, still denying what you are. Still trying to care. You’re a vampire Chapel. A killer. A fucking beast. Yet still- you try to save the world from itself.”
He climbed up onto the ledge of the Bell tower and crouched, staring out into the cold dark night.
“The age of innocence is over Chapel. There are no more innocent’s left in the world. There’s only the haves, the have not's, and then there’s us. So what are ya gonna do? What you might want to really ask yourself is once you’ve saved the world from devouring itself whole.Who’s gonna save the world from the true you?”
He turned to face Sipe but he’d already disappeared into the dark snowy night.
“I’ll be back for the rest of my dinner. Night- Chapel.”
Dewey’s bar was just off of the beaten path of the Bettenhurst districts main boulevard on Mills Street, he entered Cranston’s all night liquor store and bought a newspaper. Sprawled across the headlines read the words: “Bettenhurst Slasher Claims 6th Victim.” he gently folded the paper and began to search for the best vantage point to observe Dewey’s Bar from. The roof of the liquor store seemed the most likely. If what Sipe said were true, what he would be watching for is a police car. He rounded the corner into the alley and scaled the side of the wall effortlessly. He sat under the flickering street light reading the paper. Reading about the Bettenhurst Slasher. It was almost 3:00 AM when he saw the police car slowly drift to a stop in the alley across from Cranston's.
Mill Street was empty, he watched carefully as the headlights of the police car went dimmer as it moved almost silently, farther back into the alley finally stopping at what they thought would be a safe distance. The lights went out and Chapel could see a large dark figure emerge from the drivers door, and walk around to the passengers side. They were pulling something from the passengers seat. Something that looked like a body. He slowly rose to his feet, he could feel the rage building up inside of him, his canines slowly pushed free and emerged from his jaws. He pushed himself forward and leapt from the edge of the building and landed in the middle of the street and in one smooth motion stood and walked almost calmly into the alley approaching the back of the police car. He moved past it and followed the dark figure as it carried the body into the depths of the alleyway.
As he lay it down and began to undress it, he turned at the last second looking up and back at him, he could see the face clearly in the moonlight now. It was a cop. Chapel came up behind him and with brutal rage lashed out and sent him sprawling through the air. The intended victim began to stir and as he looked back at her it gave him great surprise to see the face of Annie Carelli. Chapels eyes widened.
“Dearest Annie.” he said. “Run from this place.”
“Y.Y.You?”
He turned to face her. almost smiling now.
“Run child. Run. Leave him to me. He will not kill another.”
He climbed up onto the ledge of the Bell tower and crouched, staring out into the cold dark night.
“The age of innocence is over Chapel. There are no more innocent’s left in the world. There’s only the haves, the have not's, and then there’s us. So what are ya gonna do? What you might want to really ask yourself is once you’ve saved the world from devouring itself whole.Who’s gonna save the world from the true you?”
He turned to face Sipe but he’d already disappeared into the dark snowy night.
“I’ll be back for the rest of my dinner. Night- Chapel.”
Dewey’s bar was just off of the beaten path of the Bettenhurst districts main boulevard on Mills Street, he entered Cranston’s all night liquor store and bought a newspaper. Sprawled across the headlines read the words: “Bettenhurst Slasher Claims 6th Victim.” he gently folded the paper and began to search for the best vantage point to observe Dewey’s Bar from. The roof of the liquor store seemed the most likely. If what Sipe said were true, what he would be watching for is a police car. He rounded the corner into the alley and scaled the side of the wall effortlessly. He sat under the flickering street light reading the paper. Reading about the Bettenhurst Slasher. It was almost 3:00 AM when he saw the police car slowly drift to a stop in the alley across from Cranston's.
Mill Street was empty, he watched carefully as the headlights of the police car went dimmer as it moved almost silently, farther back into the alley finally stopping at what they thought would be a safe distance. The lights went out and Chapel could see a large dark figure emerge from the drivers door, and walk around to the passengers side. They were pulling something from the passengers seat. Something that looked like a body. He slowly rose to his feet, he could feel the rage building up inside of him, his canines slowly pushed free and emerged from his jaws. He pushed himself forward and leapt from the edge of the building and landed in the middle of the street and in one smooth motion stood and walked almost calmly into the alley approaching the back of the police car. He moved past it and followed the dark figure as it carried the body into the depths of the alleyway.
As he lay it down and began to undress it, he turned at the last second looking up and back at him, he could see the face clearly in the moonlight now. It was a cop. Chapel came up behind him and with brutal rage lashed out and sent him sprawling through the air. The intended victim began to stir and as he looked back at her it gave him great surprise to see the face of Annie Carelli. Chapels eyes widened.
“Dearest Annie.” he said. “Run from this place.”
“Y.Y.You?”
He turned to face her. almost smiling now.
“Run child. Run. Leave him to me. He will not kill another.”
He moved almost cautiously through the grass, searching for just the right spot, when he’d at last turned to the herd and motioned them to them edge of the water to drink. Though his senses were heightened he never seen, nor heard what was about to take his life from him. The large male lion never let his presence be known until he was at just the perfect striking distance, and once he’d struck his prey down, there would be no escape. that’s what predators do. that’s what they are good at. that’s their gift. They hide. They watch. They wait. And when the prey is at its most vulnerable. They strike with extreme prejudice. And they kill. But as is the irony of life. Nature can be a funny thing. And even the most ambitious predator, the most accomplished hunters, can themselves eventually become prey. He’d already proven himself the predator, but here he found himself running for his own life now, six women, six successful kills, but the seventh, oh unlucky number seven, she was still in play.
And what was it that saved her? It looked like a man, human even, but no human he’d ever seen was that fast, or that strong. He’d been running for what seemed like hours, endless city blocks, he’d ran, the cold, damp early morning air seemed to tear through his tired heaving lungs as they gasped for every precious breath he took. He stumbled and eventually fell. In some park now, he wasn’t sure exactly where, only that it was a place that he didn’t want to be. He struggled to his feet, only to feel them taken out from under him almost immediately, landing him hard against the cement sidewalk. The air once again leaving his body, the fire returned to his lungs and all he could do was lie there. Game over. From predator to prey. Now he began to hear it. That voice, that cold, deep, menacing voice.
“What are the words officer? That vow that they make you all take?”
He couldn’t answer. Gasping for air he tried to roll onto his side.
“Ahh Yes. I believe it is something along the lines of To protect and to serve. ”
He struggled to his knees and began crawling towards the bushes. Chapel sat perched on the back of the park bench. His elbow planted firmly on his knee, his chin on his palm. his forefinger resting along the side of his cheek.
He thought that if he could just make it to the shrubbery he’d have a chance, if he could only catch his breath. Perhaps the police training would kick in and he’d have even the slimmest of chances against this psycho. Chapel strangely calm, watched patiently from the park bench.
“Go ahead. Crawl away. Hide like an insect. Burrow yourself- little bug deep within the bowels of the Earth. Dig. Burrow. Until you reach China for all I care. It doesn’t matter where you go. Or where you hide. I. Will. Find you.”
Now Chapel was stalking circles around him, growing impatient with the game, smelling the fear. The sweat. Feeling the heart pounding in his chest, the blood coursing through his veins. And when he’d crawled out the other side and pulled himself clear of the underbrush, he could no longer contain his rage.
“Still think drinking that synthetic shit is going save what’s left of your undead soul Chapel?”
His eyes slowly turned red as he bent down to look his prey in the eyes. His cold undead fingers slowly circling his neck.
“So- Did you show them your badge? Is that why they thought that they could trust you? And then what? You just- Betrayed them? I too made a promise. So long ago. To myself. To what was left of my own dying humanity. I would never feed on an innocent. But you and I- we both know your dirty little secret don’t we? your no innocent.”
He tried in vain to struggle free from Chapel’s grasp, but his hands tightened even more around his jaw as he began to slowly pull him closer. His eyes became redder his canines slowly began to grow as he leaned towards his prey.“Oh. To be reduced. To prey. I. Can. Smell. You. Enjoy Hell. You won‘t be coming back.”
His feet began to convulse uncontrollably, his fingers with each painful twitch dug into the cold frozen ground as Chapel's canine’s viciously tore into his flesh, the screams choking up in his throat made pathetic gurgling sounds. From predator to prey. Game over.
Epilogue.
~~~~~~~~~~
Epilogue.
~~~~~~~~~~
He sat there on her balcony until she’d fallen asleep, he’d crept into her room, sat by her bed while she slept. Even touched her hair a time or two. He wondered in silence to himself, if perhaps in another life, a life with some sense of normalcy, if perhaps he and Annie Carelli could have had some kind of friendship. He wondered as he moved back to her balcony why it was that he couldn't simply let go of things.. Why he’d always felt the need to be the protector. Why couldn't he simply be like the others of his kind. Like Sipe. Like Harken. Just let it go. This foolish need for humanity. This peculiar sense of right and wrong. Embrace the animal. Accept your fate.
"you’re a fucking beast Chapel."
He turned one last time to look back in the direction of Ann Carelli before leaping into the snowy night air.
He would make his way through the city eventually ending up right back in the bell tower of the Delorian Street Cathedral. He sat and watched the snow falling eventually closing his eyes. And as suddenly as the night fell he could almost feel the warmth of the mid day sun slowly embrace his face. He was ten again. Running through those same golden fields of Aberdale. He turned his head and there was Ava once again running beside him. The image so crisp. So clear. He could almost feel his lips purse into a smile. Slowly as with everything, the image faded to black and the sun died down. The voice of Sipe strangely echoed through his mind as he slept.
“The age of innocence is over Chapel. There are no more Innocent’s left in the world. There’s only the haves, the have nots, and then there’s us..”
~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~
