Post by ReadingTrance on May 6, 2013 19:54:11 GMT -5
Chapter 3: Broken Spirits
December 13, 1984, Boston, Massachusetts
Whistler was cleaning his rifle as Blade sat in a chair next to him in their subpar base of operations; a small Boston apartment. Several days ago Blade had tracked down a vampire with a lot of connections within the community. Unfortunately, the vampire was no longer connected to the community since he was now a pile of ash in a trash can.
The vampire had informed Blade that Deacon Frost was meeting with Xarus on December 14th to check in on how the Massachusetts vampire community was running. Over the last year, Xarus had been put in charge of running Massachusetts.
“What’s the plan tomorrow?”
Blade leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to go in there and kill Deacon Frost. Might take out Xarus while I’m there too.”
Whistler wore a smile. “Plans were always your strong suit.” He laughed.
Both men remained silent for several minutes as Whistler finished cleaning his weapon. Whistler had grown used to the silence that generally surrounded their relationship. However, Blade’s next action did surprise his only friend.
“Whistler?” Blade looked over at him through his signature sunglasses.
His friend turned around to face him. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for standing by me.” The Daywalker got out of his chair and left the room.
Still smirking, Whistler muttered under his breath. “And thank yous were never your strong suit.”
December 14, 1984, Boston, Massachusetts
“Are you ready, Blade?” Whistler asked his comrade.
The two men sat in their van, readying their weapons. It was around three in the morning and they were parked in front of Xarus’ nightclub.
“More than ready.” Blade’s eyes went black as his fangs extended.
He slung his silver sword over his back and grabbed his crossbow.
“I’ll be on the radio if you need me. Do not hesitate, Blade.” Whistler handed Blade his radio.
The Daywalker didn’t plan on using the radio. Deacon Frost was going to be his victim and no one was going to get in his way or jeopardize this mission. Whistler was a good friend and a solid hunter, but Blade knew that this was something he had to do alone.
To save face, Blade took the radio and attached it to his belt. He nodded to his friend and slid open the van door. He hopped out and approached the nightclub. The Daywalker took the radio and tossed it aside. He knew he wasn’t going to use it and it did look a bit ridiculous with his outfit.
Once at the door of the club, he slowly pulled it open with one hand while holding his crossbow in the other. He immediately spotted Xarus speaking to a group of employees.
As Blade walked inside the nightclub, everyone’s attention turned to him.
“The Daywalker returns. What an amazing surprise.” Xarus sat on a small round table with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I heard you’ve received a promotion.” Blade aimed the crossbow at Xarus.
Xarus’ henchman reacted and readied themselves for a fight.
His enemy smiled. “So nice of you to stop by to congratulate me.”
Blade cut to the chase. “Deacon Frost. Where is he?”
Xarus responded. “You’re still chasing that old man? Give it up, sweetheart. He’s out of your reach.”
“I was given good information that he would be here tonight. So, give him up and I might let you live.”
“Blade, you cannot threaten me. You’ve been banished from the Massachusetts vampire community. The very same community that I run on a day-to-day basis. And that, my friend, makes you fair game.” Xarus stood up and stared directly at Blade.
“Xarus, do not test me!” Blade shouted as he put his crossbow away and drew his sword. “Give him up. I’m growing sick and tired of these games. I can’t take much more of this. If you don’t give me an answer in the next few seconds, you’re going to need to vacuum these floors.”
“Because you’re going to be spread out across it?” Xarus and his minions slowly approached Blade.
Blade watched as they approached, readying himself for an attack.
However, Blade did not expect to be attacked from behind. And that is exactly what happened.
The Daywalker was sent to the ground with someone on top of him. Blade quickly rolled over and kicked the foe off of him, but was then ambushed by more henchmen. He laid helpless as vampires punched, kicked and clawed at him.
Then, a gunshot went off. Followed by three more. Blade tasted ashes in his mouth and immediately spat them out.
“Get off of him you bloodsuckers!” Blade heard Whistler shout as he fired another shot.
Blade slowly pushed himself up on all fours and looked up at Whistler.
“Behind you.” The Daywalker weakly said as a vampire used his superhuman speed to knock Whistler over.
Whistler dropped his rifle, which the vampire quickly retrieved and tossed aside.
“Blade.” The vampire smiled at him. “My son. I can smell my blood flowing through your veins.”
Blade tried to stand up, but crumbled back to the ground.
The vampire kicked Whistler in the stomach, forcefully rolling him over. “However, I do not recognize this human.”
“Frost.” Blade came to the realization who he was. “Leave him alone.” Blade snarled.
Deacon Frost approached the Daywalker. “Or what? You’re powerless right now.”
Blade stopped trying to recover and stared him down. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Perhaps one day. I’ve been alive enough years to know that anything can happen when two vampires don’t quite get along. I could kill you now and eliminate any possibility of that happening.” Frost began to walk back towards Whistler. “Alas, I’m not the kind of being that enjoys killing a wounded enemy. So, I will just leave you with a reminder of me that you can see on an everyday basis.”
Frost reached down and grabbed Whistler’s right leg. After making eye contact and evilly grinning at Blade, he gave the leg an extremely quick twist. That was followed by an ear-piercing scream from Whistler. Not yet known to Blade or Whistler, his leg was now shattered beyond repair.
“Music to my ears.” Frost shouted with a grin as Whistler lay on the ground in tears, screaming at the top of his lungs.
All of a sudden, Blade got hit with a rush of adrenaline as his brother screamed in agony. The Daywalker jumped to his feet and drew his sword, charging at Deacon Frost.
“You son of a bitch!” Blade screamed.
Frost smiled as he approached, sidestepping his first strike and then took a swing at Blade’s face. The Daywalker stumbled, but quickly recovered and stabbed at Frost. Deacon grabbed the sword between his palms just short of his chest. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was standing next to Blade.
“You’re too slow.” Frost said as pushed Blade backwards and used his leg to sweep him.
Blade was now lying on his back, with his sword on the ground next to him.
He heard applause as Xarus , a spectator of the whole fight scene, clapped.
“He just made you look like a child, Blade.” Xarus stood over the Daywalker. “And he broke your boy toy. Maybe it’s time to give up. Perhaps you should consider retirement. I hear pensions for vampire hunters are real nice.”
Frost stepped in. “Let’s continue our business elsewhere, Xarus. It might take a while for these two to leave the premises.”
“Goodbye, Daywalker.” Xarus spit on Blade before he walked away with Frost.
It took several minutes before Blade garnered the energy to lift himself off the ground. He reached over and stuck his sword back in its holster before sluggishly dragging himself towards the injured Whistler that was still writhing in pain.
Blade eventually got back on his feet. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
He leaned over and used his supernatural strength to easily lift Whistler, attempting to find a position to ease the pain in Whistler’s leg.
“Blade, I’m hurting really badly here.” Arthur tried to hold in the pain.
“I’m going to get you to the hospital.” Blade quickly answered as he made his way to the front door.
“Blade.” Whistler took a deep breath. “Turn me. End the pain. Heal my leg.”
“No!” The Daywalker immediately denied his request, still making his way out of the club. “That’s never an option. Ever. I’m going to get you to a hospital.”
Blade continued forward, pushing all of the pain he was feeling into the back of his mind.
Once outside, he skillfully opened the van while holding Whistler. Then, the Daywalker carefully placed his friend inside the vehicle. Without exchanging any words, Whistler quickly reached into his pocket and tossed Blade the keys.
Afterwards, Blade hopped in the driver’s seat and started the van. He shifted into drive and quickly headed for the hospital, which was luckily only several miles away.
Upon arrival, Blade took Whistler out from the back and carried him inside. The handful of humans inside the hospital gave the Daywalker dirty looks as he entered the building, carrying his injured friend.
“I need a doctor!” Blade bluntly shouted at the receptionist.
“Right...right away.” She hesitated at the sight of Blade, noticing the sword attached to his back.
However, she still quickly reached for the phone and requested a doctor. While waiting, Blade gently placed Whistler on a nearby gurney.
“Make sure he gets the proper treatment.” Blade gave the receptionist a death glare before slickly walking away and out of the hospital.
January 15, 1985, Boston, Massachusetts
Blade and Whistler were reunited in their base of operations, distracting themselves with the news on TV. Whistler, who had just returned to society several days ago, was now officially handicapped. The doctors tried to repair his leg, but had nothing more than several unsuccessful surgeries.
The Daywalker hadn’t searched for Deacon Frost or Xarus since their previous encounter. He blamed himself for the damage done to his friend and had been in hibernation mode since the incident.
The two friends had barely talked since Whistler returned. Even though Blade was normally quiet, he was too ashamed to say a word to his brother. Whistler, on the other hand, was too scared to upset Blade with any comments about his injury or vampire hunting.
Eventually, Blade brought up a subject worth talking about.
“I’m going back home to London to see our mother. You can come with me if you want. I have no more business here.”
“I never knew you as a quitter, Blade.” Whistler looked over at him while fiddling with his father’s cane.
“I’m not a quitter. I’m moving on, Whistler. Frost isn’t worth a lifetime of searching. What has it been, three years?”
Whistler shook his head in disappointment. “We’re not just chasing after Frost. We’ve cleaned up Boston quite a bit, my friend.”
“You don’t understand. You can’t hunt anymore, Whistler. I have to continue by myself. I’ll bring you home and then continue on my own. I’m going to search for Rachel.”
This was news Whistler never wanted to hear, never mind after he had become quite useless in battle. What Whistler was presented with was a moral battle that no friend wanted to face. He had to decide between keeping the truth a secret and letting it spill. Whistler had to decide which one would benefit Blade more.
“So, you’re going to drop me off in London and then take off to Romania?”
Blade gave a simple response. “That’s the plan.”
“After all we’ve been through, you’re going to ditch me? I’ve been hunting vampires with you since I was a child, Blade.” Whistler tried to play the guilt card.
Blade snapped back with honesty. “Whistler, you’re a broken man. You’re handicapped in any fight, never mind against vampires with superhuman strength and speed.”
Whistler took a deep breath. “I don’t need to fight vampires. I just need to be your sidekick. That’s all I’ve ever been anyways; building and tending to your weapons, creating your formula and saving you when you get into too much trouble.”
Blade didn’t have a comeback this time.
“Think about it. Think about keeping your little brother around.”
Whistler hoisted himself to his feet and used his father’s cane as he retired to his bedroom.