Bound by Blood pt. 1
#1 of Bound by Blood
This is my entry to the Midnight Secret contest. Edited to now include the entirety, at a reduced word count. Still the whole thing. I'll probably still post more later on. Several people liked the premice.
It was the witching hour, nothing so crude as midnight of course. Anyone
can be a witch at midnight under a full moon. It was past 3 am and he
had been awoken by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him urgently. His
eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling and the usual questions of "Who am
I?" "Where am I?" "Am I wearing clothes?" filled his head and were
promptly banished. A finger pressed against his lips and words were
whispered into his ear barely above the threshold of hearing, the voice
one of a distant memory his sleep addled brain could not yet recollect.
"I want to tell you a secret."
Something about the voice was familiar to him, sparked a bit of fear in
him, but he couldn't place it. As much as he tried, he couldn't. Even
once his adrenaline kicked in, he drew a blank. Perhaps he subconsciously
didn't want to.
He went to turn his head to see the speaker, but found he could not. A
collar held his head fast and prevented anything more than a slight
struggle. His paws and footpaws were bound fast too. The sense of fear
in him became cold dread. Fur along his arms and the back of his neck
stood on end and he tried to struggle anew. But the voice came again,
and froze him in place.
"You're dead."
Pain exploded down his body, starting at his neck. There was an eerie
feeling of his blood being sucked out of his body, and yet he was still
able to see. To feel. And perhaps most unsettling, to hear the horrific
sounds made by whoever or whatever was causing this pain. Then his world
became black once again.
Azel stood over the sink in the kitchen of her small apartment. Getting
blood from fur was never easy work, especially after it had set in for a
decent amount of time. The slender feline scrubbed at her paws with a
soapy mixture and a coarse washcloth. At this rate, however, she would
have to break her promise to herself about not taking a shower. The
handsoap was far to weak of a solvent to get the dried blood off of her.
Finally, with a disgusted sigh, she tossed the washcloth into the
adjoining portion of the sink and dried her paws with a towel.
Showers had become so utterly monotonous. If society did not have a
'clean' fetish of sorts, she would have gladly stopped taking so many.
Not stopping altogether, of course; but certainly not every other day.
Most of the time there was not enough grime caught in her fur to even
bother mentioning, but the perceptions were there if she did not at
least go through the motions. Blood in her fur really was something that
really should be washed off though. As much as the cat hated showers, it
was true and she had to admit it.
It was not long at all before the feline entered the sole bathroom in
her apartment. Not that she had any need for more than one. It was a
full bath, with a moderate sized tub/shower combination and the toilet
tucked into a smaller room. The tile was a speckled gray marble. Well,
fake gray marble; though it looked real to anyone that didn't study
marble as a profession. The counters were black and shone in the soft
light from the two inlaid ceiling lights. Strew around the sink were a
few hygiene items, most notably a toothbrush and a half used tube of
toothpaste. Clean breath was key if you worked in retail. Bar soap,
unlike the gel soap in her kitchen, sat on a tray near her sink and in
its own little shelf in the shower. Low enough to be convenient to reach
while bathing, high enough to not cause trouble while showering.
Unlike most house cats, Azel didn't mind water. Water in excess was
different, of course; but generally she would gladly shower or even go
down to the city recreation center and swim in the pool.
Showering would have been another thing she was fine with if it wasn't for the horrible
showerhead her father had installed years ago. Aside from its frequent
leaking, varying pressure, tendency to spray the ceiling and outside of
the shower curtain (which had led to a number of encounters with mold),
it was a rather harsh and unpleasant sounding thing. Azel entertained
herself with the thought that her father had done it out of spite. For
all she knew, he had.
It was a home improvement project that she always wanted to do, but had
more pressing things to spend money on. Like rebuilding the kitchen
after her old oven's gas line had snapped (granted, she would have
probably replaced the thing in a few days anyway) or fixing the windows
shattered by the neighborhood children playing baseball in the streets
(it was almost a pastime for them, to try and get her to chase them
home with a meat cleaver) rather than going to the old feild a few
blocks down.
Grudgingly, she pulled the lever atop the spout to the bathtub, sealing
it off so the water would go up into the showerhead. She didn't have
time for a bath. If Azel had, this wouldn't be as big a deal. A sigh
slipped from her as she turned the stainless steel handle to start the
water running. Immediately a hissing filled the room as the water made
its way up from the water heater in the basement and a second later that
hiss grew into a faint, but shrill squeaking noise as the liquid began
to flow from the showerhead. As Azel was unfortunate enough to be tapped
into the main line that ran through the more built up areas of downtown,
it would take awhile for the water to become a bearable temperature.
Unlike most suburban homes, her water heater was not allowed to store
water since the line was servicing the city hall; police department; one
fire station; and several other buildings along both 5th and William-
Rodgers Streets.
She simply stood for a moment, wondering if simply removing the
showerhead would be viable. The water pressure couldn't possibly be that
bad, she was three floors up from the water heater and a full thirty-
eight feet up from the water line. Even if it was a high pressure line
it couldn't be overly dangerous, compared to having a ringing in her
ears the rest of the day.
Idly pushing those thoughts aside, the feline closed the shower curtain
and pulled off her purple camisole. Underneath she wore nothing, not
that it would have mattered. After carefully folding the garment and
setting it aside (and hopefully out of range of the temperamental
showerhead) she slid down her flannel pajama pants. These too found
themselves folded and set aside.
Now nude, Azel glanced herself over in the mirror. Her fur had an
eggshell white undercolor with splotches of brown and black all over.
Unlike most calico cats she had met, orange spots were oddly lacking;
not that she minded. Her body curved gently outwards below her
shoulders, but her bust was not large by any means. While it did mean
less attention from males it also meant a higher quality of male. Below
her bust, her body curved gently inwards and then outwards until her
hips. Men normally commented that she had a nice ass, though rarely to
her. Most of the time men didn't flirt with her as she had a variety of
knives, grinders, and cleavers either nearby or in her paws. Azel
absolutely loved her long tail, that was about twice as long as her
legs, though. She didn't know about most men, but the ones she had dated
liked it. If nothing else, it was convenient. Having a tail almost as
long as you are tall meant that it could occasionally open or close
things if her hands were full, grab small objects behind her, and a
variety of other non public uses.
After a minute or two, she brushed a strand of her amber hair from her
blue eyes and tuned back to the shower. The feline almost had to kick
herself to get into the tub and, more annoyingly, into the line of fire
of the showerhead. This time it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The
pressure was a bit low and the water a bit colder than normal.
Swallowing lightly she began to clean herself; paying special attention
to her paws, which were still stained with blood.
A hour later she was clean, dressed, and ready to get to work. At least,
if she didn't have another matter to attend to first. Azel made her way
back to the kitchen. More specifically, to her refrigerator. She
removed a small container from the middle shelf on the door and poured
herself a cup of coffee, then a second cup for her guest. Using a claw,
she carefully cut the aluminum foil covering the top of the otherwise
oblique gladware container. Once she had a small opening she poured the
liquid contents into the second cup. Even with what she did for a
living, she found pouring blood into someone's coffee disturbing. Not in
a sickening way perhaps, but in a very unnerving way.
Making her way into the small spare bedroom, the feline closed her eyes
and sighed softly. The scene inside was anything but pretty. A hyena lay
in the double bed, the sheets covered in dried blood from his wounds.
Azel set her cup of coffee down on the dresser and sat down in an
armchair she had moved close to the bed. For a moment she considered
removing the muzzle he was wearing, but instantly dismissed the thought.
Most people were completely rational after becoming vampires. But most
people died in far less gruesome manners than being caught between two
cars in a serious accident. The male was lucky he had been in one piece
when Azel had gotten there. If he hadn't been, he wouldn't have been
salvageable.
The calico had treated most of his wounds and stitched up the larger
gashes and cuts. It was better than the hospital would have done for him
at least, but it wasn't good enough to stop him from dying. So she had
done the only thing she could. She gave him her gift. Her curse. And,
perhaps, a merciful death. He had woken up as she had done it too. That
memory might haunt him for a long time. Most of the time vampires sedate
their victims if they are going to kill them or turn them; Azel figured
his body had already lost so much blood and had been through so much
that he would have stayed unconscious. She had been wrong, but until he
woke up she wouldn't know the effect such a memory would have.
Perhaps it was the smell of the coffee that woke the hyena from his
catatonic state, but most bets would be on the blood in said coffee. For
the first time in thirty seven hours his eyes flicked open and he began
to move his fingers. Once he had reached the point where he tried to
move his paws it would become difficult. they were bound together and to
the metal headboard, above his head proper. The same went for his feet.
His head wouldn't be able to move too much, though he would probably
want to stretch hsis neck, since some of her stitching and his own
natural scarring had been very close to the base of his skull. Once he
was fully healed, he would probably be able to move far better, but for
now it was for the best. Too much shifting and he could reopen some of
the more serious wounds.
"Fuck.... Who knew being dead would mean you can still feel like
shit..." He groaned, his eyes closed by his own will. Probably because
of the bright light hanging over the bed he was on. "Not to mention being
bound nude like some corny S&M picture." His nose twitched a bit as the
scent of coffee and blood reached his nose consciously. It sparked a bit
of a flinch and struggle from the hyena, but not for very long. He was
still in control of himself. Mostly. Azel was glad she had left the
muzzle loose enough to let him speak.
"I am, personally, not a fan of such things..." Azel cooed softly in his
ear. "Not to discriminate if you do," She moved a paw to the rope around
his wrists, tapping the knot with a finger. "But this is really for your
own protection. You were... Rather torn up about the accident." Her paw
withdrew and she stood for a moment to switch off the overhead light.
the sun was shining through the slats in the blinds on the far side of
the room anyhow.
"Accident..." He groaned again, this time realizing he had a muzzle on.
"and now I'm tied up and muzzled in some woman's bed..." He gave a soft
sigh and opened his eyes once he heard the click of the light turning
off. "and yet I'm not dead. I don't think."
"Oh, you're quite dead, I'm afraid." Azel murred leaning over him so he
could see her face. "If you thought life was a living hell, vampirism
will be a dying hell. "Her lips spread into a smile, something they had
not done in a long time. "But I've been lead to believe," She placed a
fingertip on his nose. "That ACTUALLY dying is worse. At least, if you
think you're going to 'Hell'."
"Never thought abou--" The male paused for a minute then groaned again.
"Did you just say 'vampirism'...?"
"No, of course not. I said 'Welcome to the land of Fairy Princesses'"
"I hope not. Being trapped in a Disney movie would be worse... Do you
have coffee?" His nose twitched again. He either didn't recognize the
second smell or ignored it.
"Yes, and it's mine." She chuckled lightly and held the mug where he
could see it. "But this one is yours. It's coffee. With blood. Most
vampires love the stuff." She set it down and began to loosen his muzzle
further. "I do feel it necessary to warn you that I will kill you if you
try to bite me."
"Reassuring." The hyena mumbled, doing his best not to obstruct her
work. Once the leather mass had left his mouth, he flexed his jaw a bit.
It was tense, and when he relaxed it, snapped shut as opposed to hanging
open. "That's new."
"The best way to bite people too." Azel interjected. "You get much more
momentum, since you can open your mouth wider, and don't waste energy
forcing your mouth closed."
"Wider mouth, huh? there's a joke in there somewhere."
"Yes, about sucking cock. It's why you don't piss off a female vampire.
If they like you, you get wonderful head."
"And if they don't you, lose your dick."
"Exactly."
The calico moved her hands up to the rope once more and freed his paws.
He slowly moved his hands down to just above his face and flexed his
fingers slowly, then his wrists.
"It feels odd," He remarked idly as Azel worked on his ankles. "They
move the same, but feel... I don't know..."
"Stronger, in a sense." The feline freed his feet and gathered both sets
of rope, winding it around her wrist, then setting it aside. "Your grip
is better, you can hit harder. Lift more." She chuckled lightly. "But
you retain enough of your living self to be able to improve. You can
train and become even stronger. Even faster." She stood and picked up
her glass of coffee, moving to lean against the dresser at the end of
the bed. "Swim underwater longer. You don't need to breathe, after all."
"Yea... But no sun, no fire, something about crosses, garlic, and wooden
stakes too." He mumbled as he shifted to sit up, one paw moving to rub
the back of his head. there was a pause as he glanced over his cup of
coffee, then figured it couldn't make him feel any worse than he did
now.
"You couldn't really do to well with fire when you were alive," Azel
pointed out as he began to drink. "There are... Complications with the
sun. Simple version? Have enough blood to live and you can. Don't
otherwise. You'll learn what first degree burns are." She took a sip
herself, glancing over at the window. "We keep up rumors and stories of
course. Why wouldn't we? Tell everyone that the big scary monsters only
come out at night and you prevent hysteria. Keep yourselves mysterious,
spooky, a children's tale."
"As creepy as it is to drink blood in coffee... This is very good..."
The Hyena mumbled lightly and sighed. He had already finished half his
cup. As he had begun to drink he had found himself thirsty for more.
"Huh. So we can be out during the day?"
"More or less. In your living form, which I'll have to explain." She
sighed softly and stood. "Come on, there is more in the kitchen, and
you'll probably drink the whole pot." Azel made her way out the door,
the male following her, and into the kitchen, moving to stand behind the
island. He took up a seat on one of the stools on the opposite side.
"You have two states as a vampire," She began, pouring him another cup,
making sure to add a bit of blood. "You're 'dead' state and your
'living' state. Don't be confused though. Even in your living state,
you're dead. A waling, bloodsucking, corpse." She turned to her coffee
maker, adding some water and a few more scoops of grins, sliding a fresh
pot under its spout. "You default to your 'dead' state when you sleep,
nap, fall unconscious, loose a lot of blood, feel like it, or anything
else that causes you to lose control of your actions. In a dead state, a
vampire is very much the common portrayal. Simply being awake during the
day, sun not withstanding, you feel like shit. You, specifically, feel
like shit that was smashed between a pair of cars, then sewn together by
a butcher." She opened her fridge, pulling out two eggs, setting them
down next to her small stove, then grabbed a small frying pan. "In your
dead state you do not breathe, you do not circulate blood, you do not
need to eat (though food tastes better), and you have the height of your
vampiric abilities. Strength, stamina, scent, hearing, sight." She
grabbed a bottle of oil and poured some into the pan, then turned on the
burner. "Pain is dulled, so imagine what you'd feel like if you were in
your living state, and your response time is far better." She quickly
grabbed one of the eggs and threw it at him. He set down his coffee in
an instant and caught it before it hit him. without breaking it. "Case
in point. Now, how do you like your eggs?"
"Cooked, like my steak." He chuckled, tossing the egg back to her.
"More like your goose..." She shook her head an cracked the egg on the
side of the pan, letting it slide into the bubbling oil. "Now, in your
living state you can go into the sun, and miraculously... Not feel like
shit." She set the other egg off to the side and grabbed a pepper grinder
from her spice rack, adding it to the egg. "You still feel a bit
uncomfortable, but nothing serious. Of course, as the name implies... You
are closer to a 'mortal'. You are stronger, but not as strong as in your
dead state. Being able to operate in daylight is worth it, I think." The
hyena poured himself another glass of coffee and sighed softly.
"Especially since you blend with society. Even if the occasional REAL
vampire hunter comes knocking, people don't suspect you. You can walk in
the light. You may even have a day job, a shop, friends..." She turned
and grinned at him.
The silence was broken by a loud bell ringing from downstairs. Azel cursed to herself, glanced down to make sure she was dressed, and stood.
Remembering the coffee being made she set the auto timer to turn it off
when the coffee should have been done and made her way to the door
leading to the stairs.
"That would be my first customer of the day... Your eggs will be done in
a minute or two. When you're done, put the plate and pan into the sink."
She turned the handle and chuckled. "And grab some clothes from the
spare bedroom and get dressed before coming downstairs." The feline
started to open the door, then paused. "Oh, and don't worry. The sun
doesn't make it all the way to the back of the store, where the stairs
come out."
The door closed almost silently behind her. It took only a minute or two
for her to descend the stairs and head around the partition. As she slid
behind the refrigerated cases and past the freezer door she glanced up
at the customer. It was Mr. Jones from a few blocks down. A regular,
since the supermarket had started carrying questionable quality meat.
Everyone knew hers was fresh. So fresh that she would cut it in front of
the customer. If they weren't too squeamish of course.
"Morning, Officer Jones. Your usual cut of Porterhouse?" She asked,
grabbing a pair of thick rubber gloves and pulling them over her paws.
The police officer gave a gruff yes and glanced around. As was usual, he
had a tall cup of coffee from the cafe next door, and his cruiser was
parked against the sidewalk.
Azel made her way down to the far case and slid back the panel. A bit of
mist swirled out. The whole case was the right section of beef, but Azel
always tended to pick the thicker pieces for Jones or th other officers.
Being nice to the police had its advantages and, apart from the obvious,
made her less suspect in any strange happenings that went on. Pulling a
slab of beef about four inches thick, she carried it over to the large
cutting board set next to a large sink.
"Same Size, Officer?" She probed over her shoulder, lifting one of the
larger butcher's knives. This particular one had a heavier than normal
blade, making it better to cut thick sections.
"Hrm, perhaps a bit larger. I'm having the in-laws over tonight...
Knowing them, it would be better to have too much than not enough." He
took a swig of his coffee. "Besides, it's fresh and will stay a few days
packaged up." The last part was mostly to himself, but the calico caught
it.
Picking a nice section with less fat, she brought the blade down. There
was a little bit of a squelch and a solid thump as the blade made a
clean cut and struck the wood cutting board. She paused for a moment,
considering how big of a piece to actually cut before turning the slab
of meat clockwise and making another solid cut. After two more, she had
a fair sized cut of meat that resembled a brick. she set the knife down
in the sink and pulled out a smaller, more precise blade. Using this one
she trimmed fat from the edges and generally shaped the meat to make it
look more like a steak. She made sure to leave some fat on it, however,
since he was going to grill it. Removing too much fat would ruin the
flavor.
Once she was done, she set the small blade in the sink and ran water
over the gloves, clearing the blood from the rubber surface. She then
pulled a large section of wax paper and laid it over the large scale
atop the counter that sat nestled between two cases, which also held the
cash register. Two layers of wax paper and she was ready to weight the
meat. She zeroed the scale (to account for the paper) and set the meat
down. Since it was a thick piece, the scale read at about four pounds.
Azel folded the paper over the meat, then took a section of string and
bound it so the packaging wouldn't fall open.
"Three pounds, Officer Jones," She informed him, hitting the correct
pair of buttons on her register, a soft click echoing through the shop
followed by a clang as the price shot up on the opposite side. From
experience, she knew it would be about five seventy.
"Not cheap, are you?" He joked as his hand slipped into his long coat,
feeling for his wallet. "Then again, I probably would question your
meat if you were cheaper than that damned market." He handed her three
two dollar bills. Silently she opened the drawer and handed him a dollar
and some coins back.
"I can't compete with their prices, but my meat is better." She
remarked, holding the packaged meat to him. He chuckled lightly and took
it, dipping his hat before heading out of the store.
As he left the hyena turned the corner in the back and stopped. If his jaw hadn't closed itself, he probably would he had it hanging open. In shock, he glanced around. His eyes stopped as he read the backwards lettering in the window, then glanced back to the calico.
"YOU? You're Azel!? The butcher shop that my mother used to take me to when we did cookouts and stuff?" He took a step forward, watching as she placed the remaining strips of meat and fat into another case. This one sorted especially for dishes that required strips of beef.
"The one and only. I've had this shop since the early, early, 1900's." She chuckled at the look of surprise on his face. "Snag a cute man, play like I'm his wife, he goes off on a trip..." She sighed lightly and began cleaning the knives. "Doesn't come back... I put on a charade that I'm their daughter. Change a few things with my appearance." She chuckled lightly once more and let her tail flick. "Works like a charm."
She turned back to the register, shedding her gloves. With one paw, she motioned him over. The other the dusted the top of the register. He stood and watched as she explained a bit about how to work it. The device was self-explanatory, really. Each button was labeled with a cut of meat or a weight. Then there was a clear and a done button. You could even add multiple types of cuts and their weights, or do fractions. Down to one-fourth of a pound.
"Study it, you'll be my assistant." She moved to the freezer door. "A good job, a place to sleep, eternal life," She chuckled and swung the large steel door outwards. "All of the perks of having a job, you know?" She disappeared into the freezer for a moment, then came back out with a few fish, which she set in the second section of the sink. turning the faucet over them, she turned the water on to warm and let it run over them. It was the easiest way to thaw fish.
"So now you know my name," She said, turning to him and leaning back against the counter. "But I suppose that is only fair." She pulled off her right glove and pulled a small ID card from her pocket. "I already knew yours." She turned it over in her paw a couple times. "Johnson Brown, M.D." Her grin turned into a toothy smile. "I would let you go back to your old job... But they have already labeled you as deceased." Azel moved to stand beside him, setting the ID on the counter. "And with all the scars and cuts on you, no one will ever know who you are."
The hyena was about to respond when a pair of men entered, the bell above the door ringing lightly. Both were in long trench coats, the second one quite a bit taller than the first. They made their way to the counter, the first one reaching his hand into his coat. Presumably for his wallet.
"Nice little shop, but you don't look like a competent butcher," The first one chuckled, aiming the comment at the hyena. Before he could respond, the first one pulled a snub barreled revolver from his coat and held it just above the counter, aimed at the hyena. The second one pulled a single barreled shotgun from his coat, the barrel having a bit of a ragged edge indicating it had been shortened.
"You're making a big mistake," Azel muttered, just loud enough for the first thug to turn his attention to her. "And I know who you are, too. It wasn't too long ago that you 'competition' was in here demanding the same thing." She slid her paw under the counter, taking a hold of the .357 six shooter there. "I'll tell you the same thing," She jerked it out and fired once, hitting the taller of the pair in the neck before he could aim the shotgun. "Fuck off."
Cursing under his breath, the remaining thug jerked his hand towards Azel, only to find his arm trapped in Johnson's grip. The thug attempted to jerk his arm outwards, bit misjudged his opponent's strength. Johnson twisted his paw the other direction, causing a sickening snap to resound through the air. In shock, the thug's grip relaxed enough that his revolver clattered onto the counter, bouncing off the edge of the scale. His free hand reached around to grab Johnson's wrist, but Azel was quite fed up. Another gunshot filled the air and the thug jerked heavily before slumping against the front of the refrigerated case.
"Protection money?" The hyena doctor grinned a bit. It wasn't his normal situation, but this wasn't a very normal circumstance to be stuck in.
"More to claim the territory than the money." She sighed, pulling open the drawer near the floor under the counter, pulling two rounds out of a small box. She tapped it with her foot, letting it close, then flicked the revolver forwards. There was a slight snap as the barrel and chambers fell forward on their hinge. "We're between two minor gangs. No big time crime this close to the main PD, but these guys aren't so bright." She slid the bullets into the two open chambers then jerked the gun back, letting gravity pull the pieces back together. Azel then ran her paw over the top, making sure it was secure. "the other gang got the message, but these guys..."
"That stupid?" Johnson chuckled, picking up the snub and looking it over. "This doesn't even look like it would break skin." he remarked queitly. "Or even be accurate except in close range."
"It wouldn't be. It's a hold out pistol. A purse gun." She returned the .357 to its place under the counter and then turned to face him. "Not something you want to go into a shoot out with, especially a prolonged one." She nodded her head over the counter. "That shotgun is a better bet, though. The pistol is easier to conceal, but you would want back up." She chuckled and turned back to the fish to see how they were doing. "Hence the bigger guy. Seems he couldn't take a bullet either."
The hyena circled around the cases and bent down to glance over to two dead men. the larger one was a rather muscular wolf while the shorter one had been a otter. Neither one looked particularly smart, though the wolf could have been dangerous. Giving a chuckle he lifted the modified shotgun and turned it over in his paws.
"Never learned how to shoot." He remarked idly. "But I figure it can't be that hard. Just point and pull the trigger?"
"A bit more than that." Azel corrected, moving the fish into their case. "Taking care of the gun, sighting it properly, learning some more advanced aiming techniques..." She made her way past the sink and grabbed a mop and bucket. "Ammo types, all that stuff." She let the still running warm water fill the bucket msot of the way, the turned off the faucet and grabbed a large tub of bleach. She poured a little into the water, then returned the jug to its storage. "But the basics are fairly simple."
"So what are you gonna do about these thugs?" Johnson asked, circling back around the counter, still holding the shotgun.
"Clean them up, toss 'em out into the dumpster." Azel chuckled. From down the street, screeching tires could be heard. Azel paused for a minute then threw herself to the ground.
Puzzled for a moment, Johnson stood there, then spooted a speeding four door sedan, dark in color with two men aiming guns at the shop. His mind worked through the scene, then realized what was going on. Just as the first few rounds shattered the front window he hit the tiled floor.
For a full thirty seconds all that could be heard were shots, breaking glass, and metal hitting metal. A majority of the rounds were aimed at shoulder level on a normal male, flying above the cases and hitting the tile and metal on the wall. Occasionally a shot would ricochet off and find its way into the sink or wooden cutting board. The shots stopped and in the distance came the sound of sirens. Screeching tires sounded again as the car drew off.
It was followed shortly by a patrol car, manned by Officer Jones no less. Azel, who had thrown herself down nearly on top of the bodies was the first to realize the car had gone. She sat up and sighed softly, glancing around the mess that was her store. Jones entered the store, not needing the open the door now that the frame was lacking glass. Spotting the calico, he rushed over and helped her up. Unharmed, Azel brushed herself off and leaned against the counter.
"Mind telling me what just happened here?" Jones asked, cocking an eyebrow. He knew. The butcher and doctor knew he knew. "Because two men dead, a shot up store, and a hyena that looks like Frankenstein generally means a long story." Two more cruisers pulled up outside the store, effectively blocking off the street. Three officers entered the building in a bit of shock.
"these two wanted protection money. Drew guns." Azel started, glancing at the spilled bucket of water and bleach. "Happened before, you know it. this time they had freinds." She nodded towards the back wall, which was riddled with bullets. "Took offense to us not paying."
"Probable," Jones nodded, motioning to the other officers. Being a detective that went on patrol meant he was generally the highest ranking member to appear shortly after a crime. "You didn't call the police." He added, nudging the otter with his foot. "But with gangs involved, no one really does." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid one between his lips. "You and your parents have proven they can handle shit. At least small time."
"I would have called about this." Azel interjected, motioning to indicate her store. "A couple of thugs with bigger muscles than brains aren't a worry." She picked up the mop, disgusted that the handle was now coated witha blood, bleach, and water mixture. "But drive-bys?" She shook her head.
"I'll need statements, of course. From the two of you." He pulled out a moderate sized legal pad and a pen. "Frankenstein your new assistant?" He chuckled. Johnson didn't respond. His head was spinning way too fast.
Over twelve hours later, the pair were standing on the roof of a small time office building. Some banking firm that was obviously a front. Azel was wearing a harness over a black body suit. Slid in a few loops on her belt were extra rounds and a pair of small, thin knives. Strapped at an angle under her arm was her .357. A small satchel was slung over on shoulder, dark in color like her outfit. Johnson was dressed in black pants and a shirt, a bandolier of shotgun shells crossed his chest like a cowboy cliche. The sawnoff from earlier, which Azel had managed to keep despite the Police wnting evidence, was resting on his back. The stock was against his shoulder blade while the muzzle ended three-fourths of the way down his back.
"What, are we going down the ventilation shaft?" The hyena asked, frownign lightly. "You'd think with how cliche that is, a group of would be mobsters would expect that." He rolled his shoulders a little, still amazed at how fast his wounds had cured.
"No, that would be hard and stupid. Most ventilation systems for small buildings don't have large shafts." She said, chuckling to herself. "We're going in through the maintence door." She pointed to a small rectangular brick structure on the roof. "It's how workers can service the HV/AC units up here." Her paws ran over her gear, making sure she had everything. "That vampire blood fixed you up, but it won't fix the pain you have." She mentioned as a side note. "Don't push too hard, I don't need to save you a second time."
"Reassuring." Johnson mumbled. It was amazing at how a bit of her blood had fixed him up. The hyena did still feel horrible, but his wounds had closed and there were no scars. It was apparantly a special quality to it. The feline had processed the blood in a manner the doctor couldn't begin to understand, and he figured it had to do with that.
The pair made their way to the door on the far side of the roof, pausing for a moment. Azel pressed her head to the door and checked to see if anyone was coming up. A worker would provide a perfect way in, but someone working at midnight was not likely. she tried the door but, as expected, it was locked. Groaning lightly to herself, she pulled one knife from its place on her belt and worked at the screws holding the faceplate of the knob on. Slow work, but she eventually got it off. With the knob now loose, she slid the blade into the mechanism and fiddled around inside until a soft click sounded. She then replaced her knife and pushed the door. Its hinges gave a creak, but nothing overly loud.
A dark staircase stood infront of them, with no light switch on this end. Trivial at best, for the vampires. Azel drew her revolver and started down the stairs, Johnson close behind with the shotgun ready. About half the way down, the stairs turned around a corner before continuing. Azel was a bit cautious of the section, since she had no idea how far they had left. She poked her head around the corner just enough to glance. A shut door stood about ten steps down, with light shinning from under it. Either someone was home, or they didn't mind the electric bill. To be safe, she assumed the former.
As there was not enough wall to lean behind and open the door, Azel did the next best thing. She pressed her side agianst it and used one paw to grasp the handle. Slowly she opened it, keeping her revolver level and pointed straight. She got the door halfway open before she spotted a guard facing a window a few meters away. She nodded to Johnson, who made his way to the bottom two steps and crouched, levelling his shotgun. The vampress meanwhile made her way slowly towards the rather large human. She pasued for a moment behind a small partition next to a desk and slid a knife free, flicking it around in her paws to it would be facing the correct direction, but with the cutting edge upwards. The gaurd shifted his feet a bit as Azel resumed her sneaking, almost causing her to reflexively lunge and potentially create far more noise than necissary.
Once she was close enough, she stood and slid her free paw over the man's mouth as her knife cut into his back, level with his heart. He jerked and reflexively fought back for a moment. Once his jerking had slowed, she removed her paw from hs mouth and yanked the knife free, bringing it around to his neck and leaving a large gash there. A chocking noise slid from him as he fell to the ground, his blood pooling into the carpet. The last thing he saw was Azel licking the blood from her blade.
Once she had started her attack, Johnson had made his way out of the stairwell and into the larger room. To one side was a wall with a few posters and a chalkboard. To the other side was a few cubicles and a tall wooden door. In front, where Azel had killed the guard, was a large windowthat spanned the length of the room. The oppposite wall was blank. Knowing the feline could handle herself, he made his way towards the door. He was entirely afraid of what was going to happen. Part of him nagged lightly, saying this had been a bad idea. He could have figured that out.
Azel soon joined him at the far end of the room and took a position on the side with the handle, hodling her revolver up near her shoulder. Johnson knelt, as she had told him to beforehand, in front of the door, his shotgun levelled. Azel turned the handle and pushed it outwards. To Johnson's dismay, there was another guard onthe opposite side facing the door. As the guard went to level his Thompson, the hyena fired. The shot was true to its mark, as much as buckshot han be. The wolf crumpled and fell back agianstthe wall with a thump. No need for being quiet anymore, Azel threw herself around the door, firing twice.
She hadn't know where the oehter guard had been, but she had know there was a second one. Her ears had picked up his heartbeat, which had a slightly irregular rhythm. The first shot went wide, as it had been fired blind, while the second shot struck its mark. The bullet didn't kill him outright, but it stunned him long enough that Azel could cross the distance and lunge at him, her teeth tearing into his throat. He hit the floor just as a few more guards burst from a far doorway.
Unfortunately for them, Azel's reflexes were fast enough that she got three rounds off before they could open up. With the slight time she had to aim, her three shots struck two of them, one connecting with the eye of a guard while the other two caught another in the chest. The force of two slugs hitting one guard sent him staggering back before he fell, knocking the guard behind him, and off to one side, off balance long enough for Azel's sixth shot to catch him in the neck, right above the connection of his collar bone to one shoulder blade.
The fourth guard had time to fire however, causing Azel to duck down. The thug moed to readjust his aim to hit her lower profile when Johnson swung around the corner and fired a shot. He had loaded a slug round to prevent spread, but his aim was off. The bullet missed by a foot to the right and a few inches too high. It caused enough surprise to buy Azel time to close, though. The fourth guard fell to a knife that caught him under the ribcage, angled upwards. Clear for the moment, the pair paused to reload.
Johnson leaned agianst the wall for a moment, shivering. He had worked with blood and gunshot victims before, but had never been in a gunfight. His mind was sorting between making sure the gang didn't mug him (or attempt to) or shoot up the butcher shop he now had to call home and his Hippocratic oath to, at the very least, do no harm. Azel took notice and crocuhed down in front of him, running a paw along his muzzle. He wasl ess than reassured now that blood was dripping from her fur.
"Us or them, Johnson. You're not a doctor anymore," She shook him lightly. "All that ended when you died." She holstered her revolver and helped him stand. "These people have their hands in all sorts of problems that hurt people. Not killing them is like not doing all you can to save an ill patient." His hsaking subsided a little bit. "Violence isn't always the answer. But when people don't understand anything else..." He nodded lightly and swallowed, running the paw that had been supporting the shotgun over the barrel.
"Just never actually..." He stopped himself and sighed. "Let anyone die." His breathign steadied out a bit. Azel was reassured by the fact he hadn't reverted into hsi dead state. It meant he hadn't lost control of himself, despite his conflict internally. Not showing feats of superhuman powress was important since they couldn't garuntee killing everyone. "I-I'm good now..."
Azel just ndded and pulled her pistol free, turning back towards the longer end of the hall. They had made their way halfway down the length towards the door the thugs had entered from when more came around the doorway. Short on notice, the three of them found themselves gunned down at close range. Two .357 shots and one shotgun slug. Through the doorway was a lounge like area, featuring a small kitchenette and a table that could seat eight. An archway sperated it from the room beond, which appeared to be a copy room of sorts. Long neglected machinery sat in a shadow of its former glory. A door was the only way out, or in. Since it was shut, Azel figured that the thugs had been in the room but hoping to spring an ambush when they saw their pals get shot down. When the pair hadn't come in as planned, they went to investigate.
Done with subtlety, Azel kicked the door down. The gunmen on the other side kneew they were coming, so it didn't change much. Unfortunately, in the half a second it took them to open fire, Azel had rolled off to one side, and Johnson was taking cover behidn the wall. When the firing stopped, Johnson popped around the corner long enough to take a reflex shot, winging one of the five thugs. Azel had time to aim, however and picked off two while closing to bite a third. The fourth and injured thugs went to shoot her, but in close ranger their Tommy guns were unweildy compared to her teeth.
Azel glanced around the room and noted four jutting sectiosn in the corner, creating corners that cut into the square formed by the room. they were in the middle of the building. She nodded to Johnson who flipped up a table facing the only other door other than the one they had used. He set the shotgun agianst it and scavenged one of the Thompsons, relaodign it with the spare ammo the thugs had carried. Secure, in the msot part, Azel set to wrok. She pulled out a bundle of dynamite and set it againt the upper right pillar from where they had entered. Taking the wire attached to it, she tied it to the second bundle which was nestled agianst the upper left pillar. Repeating the process, she hooked all four up. The wires wound along the edges of the room and she moved plants which wer nearby to cover three of them. For the fourth, she dragged one body and leaned it agisnt the pillar, covering the dynamite with his back.
"Let's go, Johnson." She grinned toothily. "This place is coming down. And I doubt ebing a vampire will save you." She got no objection from the hyena who slid the shotgun into its sling on his back and kept a hold on the Tommy gun. They made a quick exit, with Johnson still covering the doorway, to the copy room/lounge. Behind them there came the slamming of a door and heavy footsteps. Not caring for another firefight, the two sprinted back into the small office space. The roof would be unsafe, as it would mean climbing down the fire escape they had used to get up which would take more time then they had.
"Can we take a fall?" Johnson asked Azel, nodding towards the widnows. They were four stories up. Not good odds for a normal person. Azel's response was to grab his wrist and sprint. He followed. A four story fall was better than a caving in building anyday.
The window gave a crash as Azel hit it. It didn't quite shatter, but the two made a hole big enough to fall through which led to the window falling with them. A crunch resoudned as they hit the ground and pain exploded in Johnson's head. Azel glanced at him, and he could tell she had felt it too. Adrenaline and A few shots being fired out the window led them to ignore the pain and move down the adjoining alleyway. As they reached the end, a boom echoed through the city. It was quickly followed by the noise of crumbling stone and brick as well as shattering glass. It lasted all of a minute before settling. Johnson glanced over his shoulder, noting the building had crumbled on the inside, leaving the four walls with nothing ut rubble in between. He couldn't hear so well after the explosion, but Azel yanked his arm and he was more than happy to get out of the area.
Two weeks later, Johnson was itting on the msall couch in Azel's living room. Their bodies had healed in a few days but, at the feline's urging, they were taking it slow for awhile. Insurance had come through in the meantime. The shop was repaired, but Azel had kept it closed for fear of some unseen retribution until yesterday. Other than working on the shop, the pair had done nothing more than watch TV until the channels faded to static at night. Not an exciting existance, but the Hyena was more than happy to fall into a routine that felt like something a living person would do. He may be stuck as a vampire, but the doctor felt that it wouldn't stop him from feeling normal most of the time.
As the news finished and faded into snow, Azel entered from the bathroom clad in a long bathrobe. Johnson gave her a sideways look, expecting her to head into her room as she normally did. This time she paused and stood there, her paws holding the upper section of the robe so it wouldn't reveal too much of her body.
"What now?" He asked, figuring she had a plan of sorts. For a moment, only a wide grin was his response. Then she turned and took a few steps towards her bedroom, which put her right infront of the door, and let her tail swirl behind her.
"Simply because we're vampires doesn't mean we can't have fun..." She said, her voice light. He cocked an eyebrow, then realized she was looking forward and couldn't see his face. As he opened her mouth to respond, she slid her robe down so that it gathered just above her tail, shoing off her back. He instantly felt his ears heat up as he blushed. "We're bound by blood, you and I. We have drank of each other." She took a step into the doorway. For a moment she glanced over her shoulder at him, her grin now a toothy smile. "If you ever get tired of that shitty twin matress, mine is a king. And my door is never locked."
He paused for a moment and glanced at the TV. It was just long enough for her to slip into her bedroom and close the door. With a slight shaking of his head and a chuckle, he got up, turned off the TV, and followed her. If he was going to live forever, he might as well enjoy it.