My first story posting in a long time--saw the vampire contest and couldn't resist XD
This is actually the second story I worked on for this contest, because the first one was turning out to be way too long--oh well haha
Now if microsoft word will kindly stop freezing up on me...
Lesser of Two Evils
The body dropped with a sickening splat inside the plastic bag that contained it, conjuring up the most unpleasant recent memories Cadel Lorens had ever had the misfortune to remember.
“There, little brother.” The young woman ran her hand down the length of her glove briefly as though checking for stains, fixing the much older man she was addressing with such a stare from her cold, teal-grey eyes that Cadel was suddenly and fiercely glad he wasn’t in his shoes. “Next time you send me out after one of these fools,” she spat, “Make sure you don’t put him all over the goddamn news.” She turned on her heel, adding with a growl, “You get to come up with the explanation for this one. I’m out.”
“It wasn’t my idea, big sister,” Cadel’s boss protested, running a hand through his graying hair. “That was just a fluke—he got to too many people and someone noticed.”
She turned back around and nodded toward Cadel, who barely stopped himself from jumping. “And him? Whose idea was that, pray? You know I hate to have to wipe your people, so putting—what?”
His boss winced; she’d seen his glance toward Cadel and correctly interpreted it. “Actually, that whole thing was… not quite what I intended, but at least…”
Her eyes, cold and clear and precise, stared over at his out of a slim face as expressionless as stone. “At least… what?”
Cadel’s boss sighed, leaning heavily on his desk. “At least he knows. I don’t want you to wipe this one, big sister. I’m not getting any younger, and as long as this leakage hasn’t stopped you’ll need someone here.”
The eyes narrowed. “Forget it. For now, all I need is to know how much he saw.” Her gaze slid away from his boss and locked on Cadel’s; he found himself frozen in place, held captive, while something that felt, sounded, tasted of the dangerous beauty and exotic grace that was this young woman seemed to brush across his mind—and the unpleasant memories resurfaced, this time as though he relived them.
*******
Cadel Lorens was soaking wet.
Cadel Lorens was furious. Cadel Lorens… was tied up, humiliated, fuming, and, as his best friend would have put it, shit-outa-luck.
Oddly, he wasn’t alone. He was beginning to suspect that the girl tied up beside him had been the real target, and his own capture had simply been a solution to the problem he had presented by trying so hard to get himself taken instead. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t help either of them any.
He worked carefully at the bonds at his wrists, trying to loosen them without making any noise, but they were proving stubbornly well-tied; craning his neck to squint at the girl, he saw she was still unconscious, her lovely face mud-splashed with hair plastered to it over the bare arms it leaned on. The poor girl could never have known what sort of trouble her late-night walk would get her into, else she never would have left home.
He shook his head, eyeing her for a moment. Even if she did watch the news, the mark Cadel was after took both male and female indiscriminately—it wasn’t like she could have immediately figured out that she was a likely target… although perhaps if her jeans weren’t so tight over those long, shapely legs and her top didn’t show so much of her perfect contours, she might have stood more of a chance of being ignored.
He hoped they would both live long enough for him to find out who she was. Those long eyelashes and that soft brown hair—now in wet disarray, but reaching far past her waist—was tantalizing even under the current circumstances… and heartbreaking, when those circumstances were truly realized.
For a brief moment, triumph surged through him as he thought he felt his bonds loosen, but right then the door to their prison opened.
Great. Well, he still had his gun—that was something.
If he could get to it.
Their captor crossed the dark room, his tall, broad-shouldered figure silhouetted for a short second in the light from the open door before he closed it, just enough time for Cadel to size him up. If it came to a fight… the other man was at least a match in strength, though probably lacking the training Cadel had mastered in his years on the police force.
Of course, their captor could have written the book on psychotic, primal behavior, so… in short, he was dangerous.
Cadel watched as his mark went to what looked like the worktable from hell and horror films, switching on a low lamp to reveal a set of wicked-looking blades, all lined up with obsessive precision.
Dangerous and armed. He worked at his bonds silently, keeping an eye on the other man as he lined up his “workspace,” no doubt preparing it for one or both of them. The pictures he’d seen of the previous victims were enough to convince him that he had found the right guy, and that those blades were the implements used in their torture and deaths.
*******
“Interesting,” her voice said softly, sounding amused. “An aptitude, it would seem. He can feel it.”
Cadel shook his head, freeing himself from her gaze. That was one of the more bizarre things he’d experienced in his life. He looked at his boss, questioning, but the older man wasn’t paying any attention to him.
“There, you see?” his boss was saying to her. “All the more reason.”
She glanced at his boss, then back at Cadel, one eyebrow lifting delicately in his direction as she ran a hand along the hilt of one of her swords. He looked her over in turn, taking in the close-fitting black outfit complete with tall leather boots, the twin swords hanging from the belt slung across her hips, the bandolier of knives across her chest, what looked like near a hundred more scattered about her person—she and the rest of the room, the office lamp by her elbow and the coat-rack just beyond her shoulder, made for an odd juxtaposition of day-by-day reality and beautiful, frightening imagination; just at that moment, Cadel wasn’t certain which he preferred.
“No,” she said flatly, jarring him out of his analysis. “And I’m not finished.”
*******
Their captor faced the two bound to the wall, a frown visible on his face in the light from the lamp. He looked from one to the other as though genuinely puzzled, tapping the blade of a long scalpel gently against the side of the worktable, thinking.
Cadel stiffened as the frown turned to hunger and then to satisfaction, his captor’s eyes looking over the girl thoughtfully.
The situation was about to spiral dangerously out of control, and Cadel was still tied hand and foot to the goddamn wall.
The girl stirred; Cadel cursed under his breath, twisting in his ties, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Their captor watched her as well, the pleasant smile on his face contrasting unsettlingly with the predatory gleam in his eyes as she lifted her head slowly, her slim arms flexing as she tried to lower them against her bonds.
That was when her eyes opened; she looked about herself groggily, pulling weakly as she realized she was tied, but the crack she’d been given across the head was still taking its toll.
The mark chuckled, turning away to continue his preparations. Cadel leaned over, nudging the girl gently, whispering, “Are you alright?”
She jumped into wakefulness at the sound of his voice, her eyes large and frightened as they darted from him to their captor, then to the worktable where the implements were laid out, catching the dim light of the lamp.
Cadel twisted so she could see the badge pinned inside his jacket, speaking quietly to calm her. “It’s alright—I’m a police officer,” he told her, edging himself closer along the wall until he was supporting some of her weight against his side, easing the pain of her bonds. “We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible, miss, I promise.”
“What’s going on?” she whispered back, kicking uselessly at the ties about her ankles, her voice bordering on panic.
Cadel shook his head, uncertain how to explain and reasonably sure she’d figure it out on her own given the chance.
Uncertain how to explain that I’m an undercover officer who managed to get himself captured by the serial killer he was supposed to be trailing, to be specific, he thought glumly, glancing at said serial killer, who had already claimed over twenty victims, all of them seemingly unconnected.
“Oh,” her small voice said by his shoulder. “Shit.”
*******
“What exactly did you do?” his boss asked, nudging the plastic body bag dubiously with the toe of his immaculate shoe.
She grinned, a slow, wicked grin that showed a good deal of her brilliant teeth. “He took a really, really long time to die, little brother. I find he looks a bit like one of his victims now—or two, or maybe three.”
“Uh huh. So was he…?”
“No. Possibly influenced, possibly even exposed, but certainly not of mine—just your ordinary, every-day psychotic serial killer.”
*******
“You’re the one who’s been on the news, aren’t you?” she asked their captor quietly, soft lips trembling. “The one who’s tortured and killed so many innocent people…?”
The blade of the scalpel scraped audibly across her cheek as the man seemed to contemplate her question, tapping the flat of the blade once against her lips before he turned away.
“Yes,” he answered cheerfully, his back to them. “Yes, I am; I think you’ll find the experience to be rather enlightening.”
A look at the girl had Cadel suddenly filled with a very bad feeling, unconsciously sliding away from her and finding as he did so that she didn’t need his support.
Gone was the frightened demeanor and the panic in her eyes, the feeble tugging at the bonds; the darkness seemed to take on its own tangible, ubiquitous presence, twining about her in the shadows like a beloved pet.
“Oh, good,” she said softly, cold, intense teal-grey eyes slowly turning to gleaming gold, red cat-slitted pupils focusing on their captor. “I had so hoped to meet you tonight.”
He turned; whatever he was to say died on his lips as he caught sight of her teeth, visibly long and pointed canines reflecting the bone-white of death from the shadows.
The living darkness seemed to purr with feline pleasure as she cocked her head to the side, never taking her gaze from their captor, languidly stretching out the muscles of her neck and allowing him a clear view of the two deep puncture scars in her flesh.
As Cadel stared, he realized the jeans and tiny top had disappeared, replaced by an outfit of black that was all but lost in the darkness that surrounded her—but their captor had other things to think about. In one hand he gripped the scalpel; with the other, he felt for the handle of the door behind his back, but it seemed to be locked—from the outside.
He made the mistake of taking his eyes off the girl—in one silent motion she was behind him, the darkness following eagerly in her wake to muffle his cries as her teeth found his throat and drank deep, but even then… he was not yet to die.
His scalpel slashed frantically across her skin more than once, but the wound merely turned to ash and flaked away, leaving the flesh as smooth as though untouched; Cadel looked away, shutting out his ears as the vampiress took up the first of their would-be captor’s scalpels, and the screams began in earnest… and the darkness purred like a cat before the hearth fire.
*******
“Very well,” she was saying as she finally released Cadel from his unpleasant memories, “But not him.”
Cadel blinked. What the hell…?
His boss, the chief of police, looked confused. “Why not him?”
“I shall put it simply, little brother,” she said patiently. “You are my own blood, but if you had seen half of what he saw you wouldn’t trust me either—and you know what I am. And it has to be a woman, little brother. I can’t work with men; they break too easily and they always fall for me.” Her hands reached across to touch Cadel’s forehead, her eyes framed by long, dark lashes meeting his, and he found he knew exactly what she was talking about with that last statement. “In case you’ve forgotten,” she added dryly to her brother, “I’m married—and immortal.”
Something, what could only be described as a sort of luminescent darkness, danced briefly before Cadel’s eyes; then she removed her hands from him—he wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or disappointed—and turned to go.
“When he leaves this office, his memories will be replaced by others which will confirm whatever story you tell to cover this up,” she said shortly. “Have fun, little brother.”
“Could you at least send this down to—” his boss began, but stopped as the body bag vanished from the floor. “Thanks.”
The young woman was gone; Cadel looked from the now empty spot on the floor and back to his boss, then out the door through which the woman had seemed to disappear without ever stepping through it, trying to collect his scattered thoughts.
His boss merely nodded toward the door. “Back to work, Lorens.”
Cadel remembered the young woman’s words and looked suspiciously at the door, saying slowly, “I’m not entirely certain that’s something I want to do, Chief.”
The older man sighed. “I’ll tell you what you don’t want to do—my sister is incidentally the now-forsaken Goddess of warriors on her world, Lorens, having lost favor by choosing the warped life she now lives over dying as a mortal; you don’t want to force me to call her back here. I’m sure you saw what she is capable of when you were both taken by the one I sent her after.”
A tense pause fell as the younger man turned this over in his mind, but he couldn’t suppress a parting word.
“So you sent one psychotic killer after another,” Cadel said flatly, forgetting the beauty of the vampiress and remembering what she had done, as he walked over to the door of the office. “What’s the difference between the two?”
“You would have found that my sister’s form of justice is infinitely less horrifying than the prospect of allowing such people to prey on the innocent—especially when the real evils of her world leak over into this one. Off you go.”
His mind flashing back to the broken and mutilated corpse of the former serial killer as he stepped out of the small office, Cadel had just enough time—before it vanished from his memories as though erased, wiped clean by an invisible hand—to wonder darkly if his boss had in fact chosen the lesser of the two evils.
