Post by ReadingTrance on Apr 27, 2013 21:25:42 GMT -5
Chapter 2: Whistle While You Work
July 19, 1982, Boston, Massachusetts
“Where is he?” Blade screamed at the female vampire he held in front of him.
Blade was holding the pale vampire’s collar with one hand as he pushed her up against the wall. The scene was an empty nightclub, shortly after it had closed down. There were some ashes on the floor, indicating that Blade had already ashed several vampires.
‘Ashing’ was a hunter term that whenever they had exterminated a vampire.
“Where is Deacon Frost?” Blade continued his interrogation of the intimidated vampire, lightly pressing the tip of his silver sword against its throat.
The vampire stuttered in fear as her neck briefly sizzled from the silver. “I-I don’t know.”
Blade tightened his grip on the creature, flashing his fangs. “That is not the answer I’m looking for.”
Blade’s improved hearing alerted him to several pairs of footsteps headed in his direction.
“Don’t move.” Blade grinned at his foe before tossing her to the ground.
As the front door to the nightclub opened, Blade removed a pistol from the holster on his leg. In walked three male vampires.
“Well, if it isn’t the Daywalker. Welcome back to Delirium!” The lead vampire said with a smirk, using the name of the nightclub.
The vampire community had long ago nicknamed Blade as the Daywalker, since he was the only known vampire with immunity to sunlight.
Blade recognized this particular bloodsucker as the owner of the nightclub. The Daywalker had encountered him during previous visits to Delirium.
“Xarus.” Blade plainly responded, still pointing his pistol at the trio of undead.
“I would like to kindly ask you to leave my nightclub. You need to stop coming here, Blade. It’s bad for business if my customers think the Daywalker is a regular customer.”
Blade again flashed his fangs as he grinned. “If you tell me where Frost is, then I won’t have to come here anymore.”
“Frost? I haven’t seen him in months. You’re wasting your time here, Blade. Don’t make me count to three.”
Blade didn’t move a muscle.
“Seriously? Fine, fine.” Xarus complained. “We can do this the hard way.” He took a breath. “One.”
Blade kept his pistol pointed right at Xarus.
“Two.”
The Daywalker began to pull back on the trigger.
“Three!” Xarus shouted as he sped off, disappearing as nothing more than a blur.
Blade pulled the trigger, but Xarus had dodged the silver bullet.
The other two vampire goons charged at Blade. After swiftly holstering his pistol, he returned to wielding his sword. The two vampires attacked him, but Blade nimbly dodged their attempted strikes. After ducking under a vampire claw, he ashed the first vampire with a swift thrust of his sword through his enemy’s chest.
As he did this, the second vampire struck Blade from behind. The Daywalker stumbled forward as he recovered, before spinning back around to face his foe.
“Surely the Daywalker can kill one measly vampire.” Xarus teased from the sidelines.
Blade quickly drew his pistol and fired a shot in the direction of Xarus’ voice. Unfortunately, the vampire was no longer there.
The vampire henchman then tried to attack Blade while he was distracted, but was quickly ashed by the Daywalker’s sword.
“That leaves just us, Xarus.” Blade looked around, holding his sword in one hand and pistol in the other.
“Yes, it does. However, today is not the day for one of us to die. I have too many important meetings to attend. Perhaps we can have our little showdown another time. Until then, tread carefully Daywalker. You’re upsetting the vampire community.”
Blade looked around for the source of Xarus’ voice, but couldn’t find the nightclub owner. He cautiously lowered his weapons as he glanced back to where he left the female vampire he was interrogating. Not to his surprise, she had fled during the battle.
With nothing left for him, Blade exited the nightclub. In front of the nightclub, the black van that Blade and Whistler used was parked. The side door on the van opened, revealing Whistler standing over a bonded vampire.
Whistler proudly smiled.
“Good work, Whistler. I’m impressed.” Blade said as he approached, staring at the woman he had interrogated in Delirium.
“I thought you might be. I saw several vampires enter the nightclub. How’d that go?”
Blade looked up at him and smirked. “It was simple enough. You could’ve always come in and given me a hand with Xarus, though.”
“I’m sorry, but I was a bit preoccupied fixing your loose end.” Whistler jokingly argued.
“We don’t need her anyways. She doesn’t know anything about Frost.” Blade climbed into the van.
“You should’ve said something sooner.” Whistler said disappointedly.
Whistler grabbed his father’s cane, which was leaning up against one of the walls, and mercilessly stuck it through the vampire, turning her to ash.
“You, my friend,” Whistler looked down at the pile of ashes, “are in charge of cleaning that up.”
“Why me? You ashed her.”
Whistler shook his head in disagreement. “And you failed to mention she was useless. If you vacuum her up, I’ll consider us even.”
“Whatever. Let’s just go home.” Blade climbed into the passenger seat. “It’s been a long day.”
Whistler made his way into the driver’s seat. “Isn’t every day a long day?”
Blade didn’t reply. They both knew the answer to that question.
December 12, 1983, New York, New York
Blade sat in a chair, staring outside the window as snow slowly glided to the ground. He had one of the injections created by Whistler’s father in his hand. The Daywalker slowly lifted it up and injected it in his neck. Then, he tossed the syringe into the nearby garbage bin.
“How’s the search going?” A woman asked Blade.
Blade, Whistler and the woman were all sitting in their new base of operations. It was a one-story house that belonged to the woman.
Blade shook his head in discomfort, reacting to the injection. “It’s going.”
He had no recent luck finding Deacon Frost. He had been travelling all over the northeast in search of his target, but no vampire held the answers he was looking for.
“Rachel, did you have any luck with you mission?” Whistler asked.
“In fact, I did. I’m headed back to Romania in about a week. I’ve heard Dracula is in Transylvania.”
The Daywalker looked over at her. “You are?”
“Yes, I am. This is very important to me, you know that. I hope you find Frost, but I have my own goals that I need to accomplish.”
Rachel Van Helsing. She was a woman that Blade had developed feelings for. Well, as close as Blade could come to actually feeling.
“Blade, can I talk to you for a second?” Whistler asked as he stood up.
The Daywalker quietly groaned as he nodded.
Both of them walked into the next room.
“Blade,” Whistler began, “Let’s go with her. Let’s fight the big fight.”
“No. We need to find Frost.” Blade plainly responded.
“Do you not remember what Madame Vanity said to you? We can’t spend our lives searching for Frost. We need to fight all vampires. Dracula is a pretty important target if you ask me.”
Blade’s voice rose. “Do you think I don’t know that?!” He slammed his fist on a table, cracking the edge of it.
Whistler stared at him, waiting for him to calm down.
“I need to find Frost.” Blade looked back up at his friend. “Every day he is out there, it eats away at me. Rachel can handle herself, Whistler. At least she knows where her target is.” The Daywalker finished his sentence as he walked away.
Blade returned to his bedroom. Rachel, who had heard the table crack, followed behind him.
“Eric, what’s wrong?” She asked as she entered the room.
He didn’t reply as he removed his coat, hanging it on the coat rack.
“Is it because I’m leaving?”
Blade remained silent as he removed his gun, sliding it underneath his pillow.
“Hey, talk to me, Eric.” She put her hands on his shoulders.
He took his sunglasses off and threw them on the desk and then removed his sword and holster, leaning them against the wall by his bed.
“Eric...” She said quietly.
The Daywalker removed his cross and put it down next to his sunglasses. He then turned around and looked at her.
“Will you please talk to me?” Rachel continued to beg.
He gently put one of his hands on either of her arms, leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Blade then nodded towards the door, suggesting she should leave as he climbed into bed. Rachel watched him, sadness crossing over her face.
She slowly began to walk away and then turned around. “Goodnight.”
Rachel closed the door behind her, leaving Blade in the darkness.
On the other side of the door, she muttered to herself as a tear rolled down her face. “And goodbye.”
November 27, 1984, Boston, Massachusetts
Blade and Whistler returned to Massachusetts towards the end of 1984. A recent tip suggested that Frost had returned to the state. Unfortunately, Blade had left a bad impression on the vampire community and his return was less than favorable.
“Blade, you are hereby banished from the Massachusetts vampire community.”
A tall man in a black suit, looking like a classic mobster, stood in front of Blade on the other side of a desk. Blade was seated, surrounded by a mob of vampires in the dimly lit room.
Blade stared at his prosecutor. “I was never a part of it anyways.”
The man nodded. “We know you never wanted to be. We were hoping that you would eventually realize where you belong, but we've grown to believe that will never happen. From now on, if you are seen in this community, you will be considered a threat.”
The Daywalker stood up, his trench coat reaching the floor. He picked up his sunglasses from the table and flipped them open, sliding them onto his face.
Blade stared at the man through his shades. “Michael, this decision is going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”
The man rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to do, Blade? We can’t let you go around, killing every vampire you feel like. You've done enough damage. Leave. Don’t come back. Find another community to torture.”
“Deacon Frost is here. I will find him. He can only hide for so long.”
“Go. Now. Before I change my mind about letting you live.”
Blade smirked. With his answer, Michael confirmed that Deacon Frost was still there. The Daywalker slowly turned around and exited the room. He was getting closer to finding Frost.
The scene was a giant warehouse that was housing a hoard of vampires. The sun was beginning to rise, so the vampire community was beginning to flee indoors. As Blade walked outside, several vampires scurried past him into the warehouse.
“Better hurry. You wouldn’t want to implode.” Blade angrily shouted at them as they ran past him.
He had a long way to walk back to his base. The vampires had jumped and kidnapped him a couple hours earlier. He was weaponless and had no mode of transportation. So, he indeed made the long walk all the way back to his base where Whistler was waiting for him.
Blade’s comrade was sitting at his desk putting together more injections for the Daywalker, whistling as he worked.
“Have a long night?” Whistler asked.
“No longer than usual.”
“Want to fill me in?”
The Daywalker gave a simple response. “Vampires want me dead and I need new weapons.”
His ally laughed. “Nothing new, I suppose.”
Blade glanced over Whistler’s shoulder, watching him work.
“Rachel wrote another letter.” Whistler stopped his work and turned around to look at his friend.
“Write back.” Blade replied, quickly walking away.
“Blade, this is important. You should read it. You can’t just ignore her every time she writes. She’s writing for you, not me.”
“I have every right to ignore her.”
“No. You don’t. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch that doesn’t easily lend forgiveness. This is one of those situations where you should. Friends like Rachel don’t come along often. And I know you two have feelings for each other.”
“I don’t feel for anyone.”
Whistler stood up. “Not even me, Blade? You don’t care about me?”
The Daywalker turned and looked at him with a blank facial expression.
“I know you have feelings somewhere, deep down inside of you.”
“Write back to her if you want.” Blade walked away.
This was nothing new for Whistler to put up with. He knew who Blade was and who he was dealing with. The trust was there, but communication wasn’t always their strong suit.
Whistler turned around and sat back at his chair. He opened the desk drawer and removed the letter, flipping it open in front of him.
Blade,
I’m sorry for leaving that night. I would do absolutely anything to go back and change it. Unfortunately, I cannot. I wish we spent more time discussing our feelings. Discussing us.
I found Dracula and had a recent encounter with him. It didn’t go in my favor. Let’s just say that this may be the last time I’m writing to you. I’ve been bitten, Blade. I don’t want you to worry about me, though. You need to focus on your task. We can’t have you launching a suicide mission here. Dracula has a much stronger following than we had anticipated. I hope you have found or will soon find Deacon Frost.
If you need help, seek out my brother Abraham Van Helsing. Just mention my name and he will help you with whatever you need. He is currently staying in London.
Whistler, please take care of Blade. Please make sure he doesn’t chase after me. I’m going to become a different person once I turn.
I love you, Blade.
Take care,
Rachel
Whistler held back tears as he folded the bloody letter back into the envelop it came in and then stuck it back into the drawer. He couldn’t handle telling Blade. He wasn’t sure Blade would’ve been able to handle it either. Maybe keeping it to himself was for the best.