Dominant Species (5 page)

Rodan sat with his back against the long wall of a large rectangular room that had once been the home of the thriving, Michelin starred, Gilt Restaurant, one of the most prestigious and famous restaurants in New York City, situated in one of the best hotels; the New York Palace. Soon after the War it had become Rodan’s stronghold and the building from which he managed most of mid-town, the area he had responsibility for running.

The once ornate
hotel with its majestic courtyard still retained some of its earlier glory, although the walls were now decayed and watermarked. Steps climbed up from the enclosed courtyard off Madison Avenue, to the vast doors and grand entrance. Either side of the main doors two figures stood guard, each wore long coats that reached down to the ground and each fought to control the animal that they held firmly on a leash made of heavy-duty chain.

At first glance one could be mistaken for thinking that the animals that pulled against their chains were large dogs. But as Kadir and the Mayor walked through the ornate gates and into the
quiet courtyard, then crossed to the steps that led up to the main entrance it become apparent that these ‘Dogs’ were in fact humanoid in shape, were in fact men crouched on all fours like some deformed animal. As the Mayor drew closer still he could hear the same, familiar, chattering sound that he and his colleagues had heard earlier, coming from the shadows as they had walked the streets, before being confronted by Kadir.

T
he creatures were neither wholly human nor vampire, but were instead something caught in the middle. Now as the he closed, already out of breath from the brisk walk, he stared with a mixture of contempt, and not a little fear, at the things that were left after a vampire had bitten a human, leaving them alive, but many would argue actually worse than dead. He knew them as the half-lings.

As the Mayor climbed the steps, Kadir’s hand pushing into his back
, encouraging and guiding him, the two creatures jerked hard against their chain leashes, their vampire masters struggled to contain them despite their own prestigious strength. The Mayor pulled sharply back as one of the creatures reared up, its teeth gnashing and snapping at the air as he passed. Drool dripped from its yellowed teeth onto his trouser leg as their contorted faces scowled only inches from his own. The two vampires who held them erupted into roars of laughter, joined from behind by the deep rumbling laugh of Kadir, amused at the Mayors reaction. Kadir’s laugh, like rolling thunder, sent shivers down the Mayors back and with his head down he hurried quickly inside.

He hated the creatures
. It wasn’t just the simple fact that they were dangerous, it was only too obvious that these creatures possessed a tremendous strength, but more the fact that he knew they felt absolutely no fear.

He had
once been forced to watch what they could do, as sometimes, although technically outlawed by Overlord Karick, vampires still conducted half-ling fights. Fights in which he had seen with his own eyes what they were capable of. He remembered watching in horror as they’d literally torn each other apart; yet still they fought on. It was a sight that had made him sick to his stomach; a memory that had never left him.

The
beasts hadn’t seemed capable of even registering pain, seemed in fact unable to feel anything. In reality this was one of the by-products of the vampire’s bite, which apparently contained a virus that destroyed certain parts of the victim’s nervous system and pain receptors. All that remained was instinct and one thought and one thought only – that of survival.

The
half-lings were unable to think, feel or function for themselves, however the vampires could direct and control them, and this was an even more terrible thought. How? Well that was an interesting question and one the Mayor couldn’t answer. All he understood was that the bite of the vampire contained a virus that destroyed certain neurological links, but in doing so provided a mind with which the vampires could make some form of connection, on some telepathic level he presumed. It was this unearthly connection that enabled the vampires to control the beasts to do their own bidding, regardless of consequence, or danger to the half-ling.

Usually the connection was between the vampire Lord that had bitten and infected the half-ling, but in reality, in the absence of the originator, any vampire could make a connection and thereby direct the beasts
to their own end. There was a limit as to how many beasts they could control at once, but he’d heard that they could command at least four half-lings at any given time, although apparently some vampires were so adept that they could direct double that. He shivered at the thought.

The Mayor was led into the old hotel
through the courtyard entrance, leaving the baying creatures outside with a certain amount of relief. Steps ran down in front of him to a desk and a set of abandoned lifts, however Kadir led the Mayor up the steps to the right and toward what was once a superb restaurant. The sign ‘Gilt’ could still be made out above the doorway as Kadir guided the Mayor through and into a room filled with empty chairs and what had clearly once been a bar. Haunting but beautiful music filled the air and the Mayor swallowed hard. The feeling of relief he’d felt at avoiding the half-lings evaporated at suddenly as it had come as he stood inside the dark interior.

The enormous vampire guided him slowly with one hand, fingers cupped around his neck. The Mayor was surprised that the vampire made not a sound as they walked through the old bar, despite his prestigious
size. He desperately didn’t want to be here at all, but was left with little option but to walk slowly toward the hypnotising music.

Once a place of joy, entertainment and courteous service, the hotel
now was a place of madness, darkness and fear. As they approached the large, heavily engraved, sliding wooden doors the strong fingers tightened just a little, bringing the Mayor sharply to a halt, fingers digging into his fat neck. The door was slid open just a crack and the Mayor could hear the music even more clearly. He tried to swallow again but found it difficult with Kadir’s large hand round his neck, his massive fingers half covering his throat.

Kadir stepped in front of him, still with one hand firmly on his neck and carefully slid the door open a
fraction more with the tip of one long nail. As he did the sound of music increased in volume slightly, filling the Mayor’s head with the haunting sound of Prokofiev’s ‘Montagues and Capulets’. The Mayor wasn’t one for classical music but he recognised the piece as it played from somewhere deep inside the room beyond.

‘We’ll have to wait a minute.’ Kadir whispered almost absently as he stared through the crack in the doorway
letting go of the Mayor’s neck.

The Mayor blinked in the dim light and, with curiosity getting the better of him, peered around the large frame of Kadir. Through the open doorway he could see
the ornate, almost oriental looking, restaurant. It was lit with an eerie mix of candles and oil lamps and he could smell the distinctive smell of kerosene. In a way it was the smell that shocked him most, oil was a rare commodity these days and it was rare to see so much oil being burned at once. The distant hum of a generator provided background accompaniment to the music that played on an old turntable against the far wall.

In the centre of the long oblong shaped room, the Mayor could see six masked figures, all female,
all wearing hardly any clothes, as they danced, round and round, sending giant shadows flickering across the walls and ceiling. Around the pirouetting women, a number of vampires watched, with other figures lying by them. The sound of guttural laughter bounced from the tall walls all around, underscored by a constant background chattering that emanated from the shadows at the far end where once exquisite food was prepared. The shadows seemed darker than black, thought the Mayor morbidly, his mouth now completely dry.

Heavy, dust caked curtains were pulled
tightly closed. There was an old armchair in the Mayor’s line of sight. On it lounged a tall, lanky vampire with pale, almost white skin, his long, light coloured hair draped across the back of the chair as his hand skipped in time to the music. Suddenly as if he sensed them, his albino eyes flicked towards the Mayor and fixed him intently through the gap. The Mayor started and pulled back, his heart in his mouth, and then trying to control his breathing, shifted his position slightly so that he was behind Kadir’s bulk and so those eyes were no longer visible. Nothing else in the room seemed to notice him, or Kadir.

Feeling like a voyeur, the Mayor absently licked his lips as he watched the young girl kneeling in front of the legs of the pale skinned vampire, he knew she was one of a number of concubines chosen to provide service, their standing in life simply to await the commands of their vampire Lord. Around her pretty and slender neck she wore a leather band, a simple cover for the two bite marks that he knew sat just below the surface. They would have come from the ritual of ownership, where the vampire Lord would puncture the concubine’s neck, but not take a taste of blood, lest they infect them and change them into the animals seen earlier. It was like a brand, every vampire’s bite
-mark distinctly different. A mask covered her eyes. All around, beautiful antiques gathered dust.

A
round the room, furniture was scattered randomly against the long walls. On them figures moved as vampires’ pleasured themselves with their concubine. Around the fringes at the far end, dark figures scurried and skittered about, their red eyes watching intently, desperate to come into the light, but knowing they must wait for their command.

The Mayor shifted his view
again slightly, making sure that he stayed within the shadows of the old bar. At the back of the restaurant he noticed Rodan lying on a faded red chaise lounge. He was wearing his usual long black coat and his shoulder length hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail, accentuating his sharp, angular features. Sitting with him in her usual skin-tight leather clothing, which managed only to exaggerate every perfect curve, was Keermit. 

The Mayor watched as she absently played with a stray strand of silken hair, her blood red lips pursed in thought as her tongue flicked out and sucked
at the tip of her hair. The Mayor drank in every curve until her eyes suddenly flicked round and she was staring straight at him, straight through him. His breadth caught again in his chest and he pulled himself sharply back into the shadows of the doorway once more, averting his eyes and swallowing hard, his mouth suddenly very, very dry again.

Rodan looked to
wards Keermit and whispered something in her ear, to which she nodded. At her feet sat a man and woman, both wore masks that couldn’t hide their fear, each had the trademark leather band around their neck. Keermit leant down toward the woman and spoke something lost in the music. Understanding, she stood and crossed the room to the other large wooden door that sat opposite and slowly slid it open. The music played on as Rodan watched a woman nervously enter the hall through the doorway, dragging a rippling sack behind her. She hesitated, as the background chattering grew noticeably louder, almost losing grip of the moving sack in the process. Rodan sat up, ignorant of the women all around him. He leaned across and pulled the tone arm from the record player.

The dancers froze as the music screeched into silence. Rodan stood
. All heads around the long room bowed, whether human or vampire. The woman with the sack approached the centre of the room uncertainly; although she also had a leather band around her neck she wore no mask to hide her fear. When she reached the centre of the restaurant, Rodan raised his hand.

‘Kneel’ he whispered.

Without hesitation the woman complied.

Looking deep into her eyes, a smile on his face that would make the hairs rise on your neck, he spoke to her softly, ‘Well, you know what to do?’

Visibly shaking, the woman nodded; closing her eyes she opened the sack. Half a dozen chickens scrabbled out, dazed and confused. The sounds from the shadows growing louder as Rodan raised his arm into the air and the chattering grew to a high pitched crescendo. Then he barked a command, one word ‘KAR!’ and on this single command a half dozen figures bolted from the shadows scrabbling over one another onto the mock ballroom floor, their eyes glinting red in the candlelight.

The woman didn’t move
. Her eyes remained screwed tightly shut. Her body stiffened as the creatures scrabbled toward her. They attacked the chickens in a pure feeding frenzy. In the middle, in what had become the eye of the storm, sat the girl, biting her lip so hard and drawing blood, so as not to scream out.

Around her the animals, human only in shape, tore into the live chickens
. Feathers filled the air and blood splattered the face of the woman as the animals fought each other for the food.

The creatures crouched low
, moving on all fours, circling each other. Around them a larger circle had formed as the Vampires watched, their mouths open, their breathing growing faster, their eyes wide. A single feather floated up through the air, it twisted and turned, finally brushing the girl’s face and despite herself, despite the risk, she made a sound. Then as if the dam had broken she began to sob, her eyes still tight shut, as she dare not look. A ‘half human’ turned at the sound, closed on her with a face streaked in blood.