The bartender sat behind the stream of all the people that are coming and going. He is busy cleaning the glass with his eyes coaxed on the crossword puzzle that is sitting on the clean part of the bar, noticing that there is a stubborn spot near the bottom of the glass when he cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until it finally went away. He sighed as he set the glass on the bar when the groups around him kept watching him out of the corner of his eyes, noticing that they are watching him when he felt the button that is clipped on his belt for the Management to come down and handle the matter for their own selves.
He stayed behind the bar by regulation when a woman came through the double doors, wearing a black V-neck and a red belt around the loops of her tight denim pants when the bartender looked at her, knowing that she is not one of “his kind”. It is a place where some come to drink and some come with their newfound friends that they met in the night when the bartender kept to himself most of the evening, not bitching about the pay when he went to the wash basin to wash his hands from the amount of glasses that he endured to clean.
Where did it come from? Where exactly? The bartender – let say he goes by the name of Fred, like Fred Flintstone thought of when a man came to the side of the bar, resting his one right hand on the sword that is upon his belt, wearing a leather duster jacket when he looked at the common drinks upon the bar before looking at the back of Fred that is now holding a bar towel in one hand and a three gallon bucket in an another hand. He was about to ask one of the cronies there to see if he can get the swill off of the table on the far end when the person garnishing the sword in his hand called out to Fred that jumped when he heard the sound of that deep voice.
“Servant – come here.” The worker who is part of the Management called to him when Fred didn’t even look in that direction. He dropped the bar towel in the bucket and came to him.
When Fred looked into his eyes, all that he can see is red and nothing else but the paleness of no life within those dead, cold eyes.
“What does the Management want this time?”
“For you to go on a ride; it is your turn tonight.” The bodyguard of the Management says with his hand still on the sword.
“What do they want me to do?”
“Come on. We’ll get another person down here to man the bar.”
What do they want me to do? This is not under the Regulations of my job.
Then Fred’s eyes peeled back when the blood in his veins went cold.
Oh no. Did I do something to make the Management angry? What is going to happen to me?
Fred didn’t want to go with him but played it good anyway when he let the bucket go, dropping it to the ground and went with the bodyguard that has the sword sheathed on his belt.
In the minutes that passed, Fred is walking across the parking lot with the man that has the sword on his belt. He stood taller than Fred with no markings on his shirt when the man with the sword turned to him, working the clasp on his belt to remove the sword that is on his hip.
“How long have you been working at The Wild Clover?” The man asked him, smiling like holding a terrible secret.
“About seven months.” Fred replied, not putting his hands in his pockets. It is a nervous tick that he is trying to get rid of.
“Seven months. Not too long. Not for me though.” The man smiled when he uncoiled the leather strap around his hips, holding the sword like holding a baby in both hands.
“My name is Val Lioncourt. I’ve been working her for some time under the discretion of my queen – Lasha, who is the oldest in my care.” He kept the sword in both of his hands.
“Will you care to help me with something?” Val Lioncourt poked his thumb towards the classic car that is sitting behind him. The car is one of those old boats in the dim days of the 1970’s before the oil crisis that caused the shift of cars to get smaller in market demands. The car sat low as the dual headlights pointing close to the ground with the square taillights on the back of it with smaller backup lights in the center of those taillights. It is one of the biggest cars that he has ever seen when Val Lioncourt smiled to the car that Fred is admiring.
“That Gran Torino I got from an old man that lived in Arizona, doesn’t have a speck of rust on it. I think one of the lifters is going out on it and I don’t know what to do. I can’t get a man or woman to touch the damn thing. They all think it is a waste of money if you ask me.” Val smiled when he pointed the hilt of the sword towards Fred.
“You know something about engines?”
“All I know is how to put gas in it and get to point ‘A’ to point ‘B’.”
Val smiled when he reached into his pocket and pulled a Kool’s cigarette from it, lighting it after putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the sweetness of menthol that is going into his lungs.
“Let’s go. I need a ride-along buddy.” Val started to walk towards the Gran Torino when Fred thought not to follow him but did so anyway.
When he got to the passenger side of the car, Val was already in the car with the keys jangling in his hand. He reached over and pulled the lock bar up so Fred can get in. When Fred opened the door, he knew that there is weight in that door when it came out, stopping at the hinge points when he climbed in and rendered all of his strength to close the door that shut like a hammer hitting a nail.
“You mind if I smoke?” Val adjusted his mirror when Fred did not care to look at him.
“No.”
“Okay.” Val pumped the gas pedal three times and started the engine as it rumbled, idling the engine and warming it up.
“You know I only been in this town for two months. I never stay in one place obviously. The hunters are on our trail. They always are.” Val looked in the rearview and side mirror when he rolled down the window from the crank and adjusted the mirror.
“Who keeps fucking up my mirror?” Val shook his head when he veered at Fred again.
“Just relax. Take a breather. I’m not going to bite you are anything.”
Fred stiffened when he heard that.
“Okay,” Val spoke moreover to himself when he jumped back into the seat and sighed.
“Let’s boogie.” Within twenty minutes, they were driving down the main drag of town with blue exhaust fuming out of the dual-exhaust tailpipes.
Val looked out the window with his dark and pale eyes as Fred kept his right hand on the handle of the door. Val knew of this. Val knew of everything when he turned towards him before looking out the window like some automaton.
“What is the buzz, senior?” Val felt the hilt of the sword jabbing into his gut when he turned and adjusted it. He kept a cigarette in his mouth when he did it.
“You know what my kind calls this? They call this The Slab. You know what The Slab is?” Val turned to look at him when Fred continued to look out towards the nose shark of the Ford when he shook his head.
“It is everything that we desire. Crank down that window and smell that air.” Fred did so with no complaint when he smelled the piss, cum, and shit of the night that is drifting into the window.
“That is the smell of your kind, willowing in the depths of sin and debauchery. I used to do that before I found myself at the swift end of a stick and the life flowing out of me. I laid there for two hours before Lasha found me, giving me a different life when it changed me forever.” Val flipped the turn signal switch on the column and turned the hulk of the car into the west side of town.
“There is a slinger on in the alley right there.” Val pointed over the chest of Fred when he jumped back like a stroke of lightning hitting him in the center of his heart.
“I know him by the name of Stitches. It is a street name and everyone knows him, even the cops per se.” Val looked out the window, looking at Fred and then looking out the window again with some strange meddling play that is enacting in his dark imagining.
“He’s is so close with the cops, don’t you think?” Val smiled with his teeth slightly showing. It is the teeth of murder and mayhem. It is the teeth that are the sting of death. Fred didn’t care if he wore a tutu and nothing else around those fat assed pigs when he close his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t want to work with The Management. He just liked all the money that is flowing from the place. He knew what is going on at the Wild Clover Bar when he tried to distract himself, cleaning all the glasses in the place until they were almost transparent and non-existent. The glass mirror that is behind the bar is so clean that it glazes in the dim light when he noticed that it gleams light onto the bar that holds many scratches from the patrons that come in it, looking for a drink and looking for nourishment from that drink.
As Fred detailed this in his mind is when Val guided the Ford into a desert truck rest stop that at the end of the town’s city limits. Fred woke up to the feel of the area that is around him when he looked at Val and then looked at the desertion that is around him. There are only two semis that are sitting at the rest stop: one being near the end of the tarmac and the other pointing to the mouth of the drive. Fred felt like his heart is melting into the floorboards of that Ford right now.
“Why are we here?”
“We are waiting on a package to be delivered. Just two long cases that will be shown up in a long black Caddy on the North side of this truck stop, just you and me and the other two that will show up. We make an exchange from two duffel bags that are in the trunk for the cases and that’s it.” Val turned his head to him and smiled.
“More for your need know, beside The Management wants you to move up in the ranks from being a common bar maid, seeing how the other half lives and all of that.”
Fred shivered a little when he closed his eyes again and then opened them. There is a slight mist that is coming down from the heavens above, beginning to layer the windshield in a thin layer of moisture that is creating beads on the windshield of the car. Val turned the ignition to ACC and kept the radio on to a local rock station that is coming through the speakers in the back when he sat back in the seat, stretching a little and waiting.
Fred felt uneasy about this. He didn’t want to show his weakness or The Management will have to deal matters in probably cause of getting rid of him. If he showed any fault then they will get someone else by the end of the week and it will all be normal by the following week again with the exception for Fred, who will become a pet for them for entertainment value at the deplorable cage matches they have for their kind. Val kept his eyes glued to the rearview mirror, then looked out past the hood of the Torino when he turned his head from left to right, keeping his mind clear and his wits sharp.
“I used to trek all over America by hitch-hiking. Getting a meal along the way too. I passed my way of being a common bum. Then eventually came back to where I started on day one, Jesus that was some horror show.” Val chuckled, shaking his head as his duster creaked around his body.
Fred started to shake as he noticed that his flannel is soaked with sweat. He remembered the scenes that played out in his head when he started to shake even harder, remembering the teeth, the blood, and the screams that happened again and again.
“Relax, old buddy. After this you can go home.” Val clapped him on the shoulder when Fred turned his attention out the window, trying to stiffen back tears when it finally rolled down his cheeks.
“Hey…hey; it’s going to be okay. I got your back through all of this. If you see the first sign of trouble, tap your feet three times and this deal will go sideways. Okay?” Val patted him on the shoulder when he felt the cold on that slab of meat.
He didn’t feel comfortable at all. The minutes ticked by before he even realized it.
Out in the distance, Fred and Val heard the sound of thunder when the mist started to turn over into droplets of rain. Val kept his head on a swivel as Fred felt like his mind is about to go catatonic. He looked around for any sign out of the ordinary, too afraid to run for if he did, he is a dead man. Val would impale him with that sword that is sitting in the back seat in a moment’s notice. This deal would go sour, for that he wouldn’t care if he did. He would still be a dead man if he made any waivers.
He gripped his hands on his thighs, clutching them like the hands upon the wheel that is gripping death when twenty minutes ticked while Val slowly tapped on the on the steering wheel in verbal silence.
“Where in the hell are they?” He pulled out his burner from his pocket and checked the time on his phone.
“They are about four minutes late. What did they do, stop at the burger joint on Jenin Street?” Val moaned when he placed the phone back into his pocket, tapping his hands on the small wheel what is so unlike for a car this big.
“Where do you hail from anyway?”
Fred thought about answering that question. He bounced a lot of places in his life but never had a place to call home. He never had a mother or father. He grew up in an orphanage with all the other children that seem lost when he went through the place like another shadow in the gathering of shadows in that Orphanage. That is where he learned how to play poker in the boiler room of that orphanage and he did a good job on that too. The man who taught him was the janitor that went by the name of Tooly. Fred couldn’t remember Tooly’s last name. He was a black guy who stood taller than all the rest of the white people that used to run that orphanage. Fred dropped his head and rubbed his eyelids.
“I used to live in Cambridge, Ohio.” Fred spoke like a person that is about to whistle a tune.
Val looked at him before grunting, looking out at the windshield when the minutes ticked by when the rain started to lighten up. When the rain finally turned back into droplets, Val turned to the man that is sitting in the shotgun bucket seat.
“You know, you are really one shitty conversationalist. I can tell you that.” Val snorted; touching the top of the steering wheel when Fred turned his head out towards the tarmac where the one semi is, feeling the edge of frighten conviction behind his eyelids.
“Hey, I remember just now that I forgot to give you this.” Val reached across the center cab of the car to turn the knob on the glove compartment. The smell that was coming from Val is atrocious when he tried not to put his hand upon his mouth. He opened the glove compartment and brought out an old fashioned .38 with a holster. Val closed the glove compartment and gave it to him.
“Oh no, I don’t think it’s wise.” Fred raised both of his hands in the air when the droplets slowly faded out outside this big hulk of a car.
“It’s okay. The hammer is on an empty chamber.” Val assured him, smiling like giving him a pill to help him go to sleep for the night.
“No. The last time I used a gun is when…” I helped a girl and the guy had fear in his eyes in that alleyway so many years ago.
“So you know how to use a gun.” Val recounted this when he looked at the rear of the car.
“I have my blade but that is not all. I have a knife stuffed up my left cuff and an old piece.” Val bounced the gun in his hand like jiggling change for the interstate toll.
Fred felt the blood rush out of his body again when he felt all those times when he did something bad and felt the repercussions of feeling bad in all those times when it involved his childhood, the people involved in the orphanage, and the incidences that involved with the police whom later he befriended and eventually worked at the police station for several years before corruption brought him to the promise to be out and away from behind bars. He didn’t know how in the hell he got here in the first place when he took the revolver, feeling the thousands of pounds in his hand when he looked at the Smith and Wesson seal that of on the right side of the gun.
“That gun was worn by the best in the 1950’s. Don’t lose it and don’t drop the fucker when everything goes tits up.” Val looked at him.
“Look at me.” Val commanded. Fred replied when he looked up with the gun still in his hands.
“Whatever happens, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m ordered to protect you and I can take more than what I used to be when I was human. I know what it is like to die before – you know.” Val patted him on the shoulder when Fred nodded his head, agreeing with him.
Time seem endless when Val continued to count off the time, tapping his hands on his thighs that are still covered with the duster that is upon his legs. He felt the need to call the management but couldn’t when he waited and waited for the time to call them to seem right.
“They must have got into a traffic jam.” Val sighed, getting bored with this waiting.
“I can’t sit here for too long. It makes me all jittery and ill-felt. I’m starting to get hungry too.” Val smiled when Fred back up in the bucket seat, keeping his hands up towards his throat a little more.
“What the hell is your problem?” Val felt chortled when a pair of headlights beamed through the windshield of the car.
“I think that is them.” Val looked through the glass with his perfect night vision.
“Yeah,” He agreed with himself.
“That is them alright. You stay near the hood of the car but you’re going.” Val opened up the driver side door when Fred grabbed him, being disgusted of grabbing him in the first place.
“What is your deal?” Val kept the door partway open.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this?” Fred implored him with his upper lip quivering.
“I been alive since Moses was around. I know something bad when something happens.” Val grabbed his hand and reeled it from his shoulder. He fetched the sword that is in the backseat as well. Val shut the door when Fred felt tears watering up in his eyes. He shuddered with his breathing becoming unsteady when he jumped out of the car with his shoes laces almost tripping him up.
The feel of the air is so cool.
Val went point onto the crack tarmac with the clouds slowly being reclusive from the sky, bringing out the full moon that is lit overhead with all the stars intact in the night sky. Val didn’t contend to this when the car came closer, a Chevy Impala with the headlights fitted with LED’s that blinded Val when he raised his hands and waited for the lights to be cut out. When it happened, the engine died as well.
“Jesus fuck, Merle. You have to fit that shit on that piss of a clunker of yours.” Val spoke to the guy coming out of the car. The guy is big, much older with his head shaved where there is no stubble. Fred stayed next to the front point of the car, touching the Ford decal in front the edge cropping of the hood. Steam came off the tarmac with the cold rain cooling on the much warmer tarmac when the big guy came up with a stone face, looking over Val’s shoulder with that look that almost kills.
“Who the fuck is that pecker?” The big guy asked Val when Val touched the hilt of the sword on his left hip. Along with the sword is the gun that is underneath his duster jacket.
“Just some guy from The Management employment; he needs to expand what we are really doing from The Wild Clover.”
Fred could hear the big guy but couldn’t hear Val when he remembered with sullen interest:
Just tap three times and this deal will go sideways. Fred remembered what Val says when he hid the gun more comfortable on the back side of his thigh. The gun felt like a tumor when he kept his hands out in the open. Two more men came from the impala, one closing the door and the other shutting the door. They walked up towards Val in slow speed: One being cool and the other looking for trouble. Fred wondered if Val knew what he knew when he felt like the kid in the back of the class, dropping down with his head tucking below the table.
“What does Marci think?” The big guy spoke, not caring for an introduction with Fred and himself. One look at Fred made him almost embarrassment for a laugh.
“Who gives a shit; that man is a ticking time bomb and he is about ready to ride the rocket to be expelled from his existence. The only thing that is keeping him alive is his wife.” Val kept his hand on the hilt of the blade when the big guy snorted.
“As long as I get paid, I don’t care what you do. You nothing but a bunch of suck heads to me.” The big guy looked at one of the men behind his left as the same time Val came closer with his hand upon his chin.
“Us suck heads are the ones paying for this entire operation. You know the risks when you started the first run. The question is for the sake of yourself is how long. That is the question you wish to garnish for yourself. How long do you have before the big guys come?”
The big guy knew that it wasn’t a threat when he grunted, snapping his fingers together to one of the guys that rendered to the back of the car with the car keys in their hands. The henchman of the big guy poked the keys into the lock of the deck lid when he turned it clockwise and opened the trunk of the car. Fred didn’t see any of this when he looked around all over the tarmac of the truck stop, feeling no eyes upon them when he jumped a little on his feet.
The henchman that didn’t come with the rest stood there, looking at him when Fred tried not to make eye contact with the henchman, keeping his hands in plain view.
“You suck at this.” The henchman called to Fred that is still standing in front of the Torino.
“I was ordered to be here.” Fred replied, sounding like a girl when he did.
“I don’t care if you came here from The Slab. I just wanted to give you shit. You look like one of those bitches in prison.”
Fred only looked at him like he was slapped in the face.
The men behind the car spoke to themselves where Fred couldn’t see when he came to the end-result that he really needed to pee. He crossed his legs and waited when time felt like forever. He didn’t want to talk anymore to the prick of the henchman when the deck lid closed with Val’s hands full with the two cases that are bobbling like pendulum pieces in both of his hands.
“Don’t overdo it.” The big guy chuckled as Val didn’t say anything.
“Get in the car, Hondo.” Val spoke.
“What?”
“Don’t ask any questions and get in the car.” Val cut him off when he got to the back of the car and opened the deck lid with the keys jingling in his hand.
Fred followed what he was told when he felt like he was about to pass out.
They were sitting at a late-night diner when Fred asked him the question that is rolling around in his brain like a hot coal.
“Were those guys like you?” Fred asked while itching his cheek before looking around for anyone looking at them in the corner of the diner.
Val looked at him with those pale dead eyes before chuckling with his hand coming up towards his mouth.
“No. The suppliers are as human as you.”
“Then why are you sitting here? Why are you eating when you don’t get any nourishment from the food?” Fred thought of looking around for any looky-loos when he didn’t.
Val looked at him before setting his fork down on the plate.
“I do it for the reason that I like the taste of food. We vampires do love food. The way it tastes is one of the favoritism we had before we died and came back in this form.” Val continued to cut the steak on his plate with the side order of American Fries that is beside it. Val had another plate on the table which is coleslaw with a dab of bacon bits for the coleslaw to mix it up. Fred only got a cup of coffee that is before him. He wouldn’t dare eat.
“You know that my entire family is dead – naturally?” Val looked at Fred when he picked the fork up from the plate that is getting cool.
“That is the shitty thing about being immortal with the taste for blood.” Val smiled but within that smile there is sorrow.
He dabbed the steak with the fork when he thought in deep retrospect. The door to the diner opened with the sound of the bell ringing off. Val didn’t look in that direction when Fred did, seeing the two butch guys come through the door and sitting in one of the booths that is near the door. The waitress came to the table and poured them a cup of coffee when Val cut another piece off of his steak.
“I can smell them. They’re human and they’re from Derek’s estate. I think we need to blow this Popsicle stand before they see me, if I already had been zeroed.” Val looked at himself with his plain shirt that is tucked into his black khaki pants. He kept his sword on the back seat of the Torino with a night that is getting close to the dawn in a few hours.
“Do you have a five on you?” Val asked Fred when he nodded his head, moving his butt up from the seat and then sitting back down. He brought the five on top of the table and set it down when Val took it and placed it underneath his icy cup of empty pop when he got up with the check in his hand.
“Let’s go” Val was already on the other side of the diner when Fred followed, feeling that his shirt is sticky from the sweat that he endured some time before when he paid the check without being seen.
They left the diner with no wind of disturbance.
While Val drove, he looked at Fred before looking out towards the windshield with his one hand on the top of the wheel. The lines on the road ran through the banks of the night when they kept their silence with nothing but the sound of the engine running them along. Val looked at him again with his eyes showing some red flecks in the irises when he finally said something:
“You did well this evening. I’m proud of you.” Val nodded his head. The only feel is the source of his eyes clocking back and forth.
“I think I should talk with The Management about recruiting you more.”
Fred only felt like his heart is being sucked out of his chest. He thought about the bills he had to pay, the back rent he has to get over, the constant mentioning of the ticking that is above the ceiling when he told his landlord about it when he only got the reply of why don’t you pay your rent on time and then we will talk about it. He will never fix anything anyway, it cost too much. He wanted to say something to Val so he didn’t look so much like an ass. When he did, he thought about this in mind before he even actually said it.
“How much work do you do with The Management? How many runs do you do?”
“Two a week, give or take. You know we don’t give alcohol to the patrons all the time, you know.” Val smirked, putting both hands on the wheel now.
The stars shone over the landscape of the world that is around them. The only sense that is in Fred is to go home, lock the door, pull the blankets over his head and sleep for two or three days straight. He didn’t want to ponder in the night any longer.
“How did The Management found you anyway?” Val asked him when Fred shrugged, running his entire past in a blink of an eye.
“They found me at the bottom of the bottle when I awoke to something that I still can’t get out of my head.” Fred sucked in his lower lip when Val clapped him on the shoulder. They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride.
Val dropped him off three blocks from his home. Fred told him that he lives here – which is a lie and waited for Val to leave his sight in his beast of a car. Fred bundled up his coat when he started to walk, not taking the alleyways when he thought that someone is watching him in the rafter of some heaven or hell that is lumbering above him. He saw no one on the city street which made him more fearful in the silence, only hearing the sound of his pounding feet that is getting closer to home but farther from the sanity of his own mind. The sound of a rumbling engine ran down the street when Fred turned, seeing barely nothing behind the wheel of that car when he pushed the collar up on his jacket. He waited for the car to leave when he stood there in silence. He waited for the car to leave, then he started to walk faster, more strident to the bend of the stoop that housed his apartment when he swore he heard the sound of a crow or raven in the distance, making him walk faster when he was at the door of his apartment before he even realized it.
He walked into the complex and shut the door behind him, feeling feign singe of his breath coming out of his body. He kept his back to the door when from down the hallway, someone with a raven perched upon his shoulder came walking up towards him.
“You came from The Wild Clover. I used to patron there. Let’s say we make a deal.” The man who came forward has a fleck of red in his irises when the raven on his shoulder looked at Fred like he is a marsupial, just a lonely and pathetic marsupial.
“The packages that Val Lioncourt runs are something of favor to me. I like to know what they look like, if you care to speak, I can lend an ear.” The man with the raven shines something on his hip which is an old fashioned six-shooter that is in his holster, along with a Bowie knife that is also in his leathered sheath. The raven cawed.
“You don’t have to run because it is pointless, servant.” The man craned, smiling his shark toothed grin when something banged behind him. The man with the raven smelled, knowing who it was when he reacted with nothing but a sick rolling feeling in his stomach.
“Maybe you can take some time to come and talk to me.” Val Lioncourt came from behind the man with an old six-shooter that is in his right hand. The shooter gleam its steel in the light when the man with the raven perched on his shoulder grunted when he slowly turned towards that vampire from the other clan.
“How many times is going to be the last time for us, Val?” The man with the bird looked at the raven before he sent the raven flying as it fluttered on the stair banister that is above them, perching there and watching with its black and death pierced eyes.
“Just enough until I bleed you to death;” Val cocked the hammer on his old six-shooter. The gun that he has is an 1893 Colt Single Action Army with all chambers full with 170 grain center-point cartridges with the hammer primed on the first bullet when Val waited and waited for this to pass.
They stood there with Fred still with his back against the door, realizing that he is within firing range when he started moving away from center fire. The man with the bird smiled his death stare as Val returned that with a smile. The air is calm before the gauntlet is thrown down.
“Okay, Val.” The man with the bird closed his jacket with a flick of the wrist, pushing the buttons through the eyelets.
“I’ll see you when The Management can’t find you.” He pointed at the gun that is within Val’s hand.
“Be sure to bring two hundred grain this time.” He finished off, turning his eye contact away from Val when he met Fred again, pushing him aside like a sack of onions when he opened the door rather forcefully, jumping the door from the wall with the pane in the frame almost breaking in many pieces.
He left the scene as the raven continued perched on the stair banister. Val felt this when he raised the barrel of the gun to the ceiling and brought the hammer down on his resting place. The raven took flight through the door that is still open when it followed after its master.
“That was Clovis.” Val says when he walked to the door and closed it.
“He’s always been a prick. He doesn’t let up too. I’ll wait for the Kings to decide what they are going to do with him. He’s starting to go rogue.” Val patted the grip of his gun when he looked at Fred with some attentiveness that is almost hearty.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just that I never had a gun pointing near my direction before.” Fred kept his hand on the wall when Val looked at the stairs behind him.
“The Management should have nothing to know about this. I don’t want to fight another war. I’m getting too old for that.” Val said with some meagerness for a laugh.
“You want something to drink?” Val asked him when some point later in time, they were in Fred’s apartment with two glasses of scotch between each other on the table.
Fred apartment looks plain at most, almost with little to no personality as Val looked around the apartment for anything that could make the conversation seem more enticing. The rug that is beneath his feet has more stains on it than a cat being territorial with his piss bag empty and his thrill of sex all a quiver. The pendulum clock on the wall continued to tick when Val looked at Fred that is on the other side of the table.
“I think you and I are both in terms of being on the same page.”
Fred blinked at this when he came forward from the couch that he is sitting.
“What do you understand about me?”
“I understand that we are both shadows of this world, waiting for the pieces to fit. I have nothing with the exception of my queen. She and I are the only ones left of my clan. The rest died with a mistake that I had made.” Val perturbed this in silence with his complexion looking troubled and close to the feel that he is almost ready to cry.
“You have something to enlighten from your past. I’m just curious to know, that’s all.” Val came forth and brought the glass from the table, sipping it with tender care.
“My past is nothing to talk about so much. I told you I came from a place with no family.”
Val looked at him with his eyes fully dilated.
“You’re speaking the truth but the truth is not all hidden in stone.” Val kept the glass in his hand when Fred looked at him with bemusement, feeling like his brain is about to be cracked in two when he lowered his head and breathed in and out a few times.
He looked at the floor before seeing something in between the crack which is a dime from some time long before he ever moved into the place. He closed his eyes when he gripped his knees like they are about to pop before looking up with a different personality that is upon his face. It is the expression that Val has not seen before in his short time knowing him.
“What I did before was coined the name, ‘Demon Slayer’.”
Val opened his mouth with his breathing becoming irregular, shocked by the founding that even surprised him.
“You were a vampire hunter.”
“Yes.” Fred didn’t reply.
“I have many names but now I am in hiding from my own. The reasons that being is that I was in love with a vampire.”
That’s what I smell. Val submerged this deep in his heart. What did I smell?
“Who did you love?” Val brought his feet down from his comfortable crossed-position. He started to feel worried now. What will this hunter do? What will happen from here?
“I loved…”
Val almost dropped his glass, standing up when he started walking out of the room with his mind all a fritter.
She is alive. Val wiped the tears that are coming from his eyes.
She is alive.
“I have to go. I won’t tell The Management about this. If they find out then they will drain you, cut your guts out, and feed it to the demi-beasts.” Val opened and hurried out of the apartment, closing the door after him.
Fred sat there when he started to cry with his mind going in thirty places again.
The next night he went back to The Wild Clover and stood his post. He didn’t say anything to the swordsmen or the higher-ups that he met and sometimes not met when he continued to pour the drink around the bar, wondering which drink is blood and which drink is not blood when he kept his post with his old senses rearing up. He is a hunter but retired for now.
– Adam Steele
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