Nosphorus: Part I - Act 2
“So you know a guy... who knows a guy... who has a friend who has some books?” Pearce nodded his head cynically. “And that’s how you know all this stuff... about the Nosphorus and junk like that?” The vampire swallowed the shot and set the tiny glass back on the bar. “I have a hard time believing that.”
Felix shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s my business what you drink, not what you believe.” He filled the shot glass again for the vampire. “But just so you know — I know the friend directly. She’s... into that sort of thing.”
“Sure,” Pearce nodded. “Maybe she’s into creating sick vampires and sending them against humanity.” He emptied the shot and slammed it back on the bar. Somehow, Felix retained his smile, though there was very little amusing him at the moment.
“And yet you seem to know as much about what’s going on as I do,” the barkeep countered politely. “We wouldn’t, perhaps, have a friend in common, would we?”
Pearce sneered and pointed to his empty glass. “Not likely.” And the glass was filled. “My friend wouldn’t deal with the likes of you.” And the glass was empty. Felix raised an eyebrow at the insult and after a pointed moment of hesitation, refilled the shot glass.
“And yet he deals with you?” The barkeep asked, screwing the cap tight on the bottle. As Pearce emptied the glass, his silver bracelet fell free from his cuff and clinked to the bar top against the shot glass. Felix raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I see. Your friend is a Watcher.”
“And your friend is a Seer,” the vampire smiled. “How quaint.” Felix spread his hands amicably.
“In the end, I would rather have a friend who sees than one who merely watches.” His expression was startled for a moment as the vampire snatched the bottle from his hands and unscrewed the top. He refilled his glass, spilling some on the bar.
“But this makes me special,” he shook the bracelet in Felix’s face. He was a little groggy now as he emptied the shot. “It makes me better than just a vampire. I’m like...” his eyes searched around the room, looking for clarity. “Like... like a prince again. I’m a prince with this th- thing on.” He gazed at the silver chain for a hazy moment, then looked up to see Felix ginning at him. The vampire didn’t like the grin so he shook the bracelet in the barkeep’s face again. “I. X. I. That’s what it says. Ixi.” He refilled the glass, nearly missing completely this time, and drained it with a sputtering gasp.
“Do you know what it means?” Felix slowly pulled the bottle towards him and slipped the cap back on. “Why it will protect you?”
Pearce shrugged. “Because the man said it would.”
Felix’s smile became one of pity. “You’re a sad, lost little vampire, aren’t you?” He took the bottle out of sight and began to wipe up the mess on the bar. “Looking for anyone who will give you back what was stolen. You know there’s not a day goes by that I don’t hear some story whispered in the back corners of the Prince of Pierce and how he used to make the underworld proud.”
Pearce grimaced. “I’m jus’ fuckin’ fine,” he slurred, “An’ I’m still the goddam Prince.”
“You’re drunk,” Felix argued. “And you’re pathetic. The Little Vampire That Couldn’t.”
“Shaddap,” Pearce rose uneasily to his feet and seized the barkeep by the shirt. “Maybe I’m a funny drunk... an’ then I can kick the crap out of you.” He swayed slightly and Felix pulled the vamp’s hands off his shirt. “I’ll do the happy-time parade... n’ then you’ll be sorry.”
“Sit down,” Felix warned. “No, on second thought, go home.”
Pearce slumped onto his stool. “I’ll leave when I fuckin’ well please.” He rose again to his feet and pointed a finger at the barkeep’s chest. “I don’t take orders from pansy waiter-boys.”
“And I don’t have to serve ‘pansy’ Watcher’s pets.” Felix turned and took a step towards the door leading to the back room. “Hey, Diego,” he called. “We got a un-deadbeat out here and he—” Felix fell to his knees as the bottle smashed over his head.
Pearce looked down with a newly reclaimed sobriety in his eyes; a clarity that was not his own. His face was unchanged, but his attitude was all business. He took the serrated neck of the bottle and brought it down hard into the back of Felix’s skull with a crunching sound.
The demon’s eyes rolled back and he fell forward onto his face. By the time Diego lumbered out to see what was the commotion, Pearce had vanished.
The Nosphorus lifted the brim of his broad Sou’wester to reveal his rat-like features. He was more than simply rat-like, however. He was all vile Rodentia and despised vermin... all disease carrying nocturnal creature that hungers only for weaker flesh. Flesh to corrupt. He was nosferus.
His large bat-like ears began to shrink, however, as the blood filled his mouth. The old woman tasted of cigarettes and cancer. Death was all around her. As his ears became more and more human in appearance, he could feel his nose become smaller as well. Still inhuman, as a vampire’s was, but the vermin in his blood was diluted ever more with the blood he drank; as the plague he carried passed from him to his victims.
He stayed by the corpse many hours after she was dead. Many hours still before she would rise again. He liked the smell of death. It was comforting. It was like his own smell. Eventually, however, his features reverted back to the form of a man. An Irishman. Finding himself near the dead body of an old woman, he soon wandered off into the darkness, looking for a place to nest before sunrise.
The little boy screamed.
Niki charged into battle, dusting the first vamp with a thrown stake at fifteen feet. The second hit the ground after an encounter with her fist. Logan embedded his axe in the third’s chest, sending him staggering back in agony.
Niki was down on the ground sending a stake through her vamp’s chest before he could recover, and Logan pulled the axe free to swing it neatly through the vamp’s neck, causing him to explode into dust.
The Slayer sighed, brushing the ash from her pants. She was just about to comment on their improved battle skills when she noticed the little boy, cowering near a garbage can. A fourth vamp leered down at him, reaching out as if to embrace him. The little boy tucked himself further into his yellow raincoat and whimpered.
Logan raised his axe to throw, his hand hesitating, unsure of his own accuracy at that distance, and Niki placed a restraining hand on his arm, shaking her head. The vampire laughed wickedly as he pulled the child from his fetal position and held him as a shield. He began to walk backwards into the darkness of the alley, his arm around the boy’s neck, threateningly, daring either to follow him.
Niki’s jaw ached from clenching it so tight as she stood her ground hand held Logan back. They watched, helplessly as the vamp disappeared into the shadows of the back of the alley. After half a moment there was a high pitched scream. But it wasn’t the boy’s.
Niki and Logan watched in amazement as the boy strode triumphantly out of the shadows, brushing the dust from his yellow raincoat. His eyes were pure white, his pupils nothing but tiny dots. He stopped a half dozen paced from the pair and smiled a broad toothy smile. Then he charged.
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