Post by ReadingTrance on Jun 6, 2013 16:59:42 GMT -5
Chapter 4: Masks
February 27, 1985, London, England
“Why did Frost let you live if he had you defeated?” Madame Vanity sat across the table from her foster child.
Blade and Whistler had surprised Madame Vanity several days ago when they arrived back home without forewarning her.
It bothered Blade to see his mother figure so old and feeble. She was not in the best of health, noticeably inching towards the end of her life. Seeing Madame Vanity in this state hit Blade, as he was finally beginning to realize how many people he was going to outlive.
The Daywalker answered her question. “Vampires don’t kill their own creations. I’m his son. He wanted to prove a point and did so by using Whistler against me. Frost wants me to join the vampires.”
“But you would never. He must know that.” Madame Vanity said, hoping her son would agree with her.
“No, I wouldn’t. But I believe Frost is hoping I can create a new breed of vampires.”
She stared at him. “More daywalkers...”
Blade nodded, lowering his head in thought.
Several moments of silence passed before Madame Vanity continued the conversation.
“What are you doing back here, Eric?”
The Daywalker looked up at her. “I’m going to look for someone I lost.”
“Yes, Rachel. Whistler had mentioned her.” Madame Vanity took a small bite of the chicken dinner that sat on a plate in front of her.
Blade remained silent.
Madame Vanity continued. “Are you sure this is wise? To seek out someone you won’t even read a letter from? Your emotions are conflicted, Eric. You need to sort them out.”
Blade didn’t answer her questions. “I’m going to find her brother and then hunt down Dracula.”
“Dracula?” She questioned. “Just the two of you?”
Blade nodded confidently.
“Maybe you haven’t heard, but Dracula might be too powerful for even you, Eric. He’s on top of the food chain.”
“Then I’ll die trying.” Blade didn’t dare look at her in the eyes.
“Die trying?” She sarcastically laughed. “Are you going to go in there with the same arrogance Arthur had? Just going to walk into a nest thinking you’re immortal, only to leave the ones you love behind in this cruel world alone?”
“I didn’t mean it like...” Blade tried to recover before Madame Vanity cut him off.
“Mean it like what!? You’ve all left me, Eric. You and Whistler went on a parade to America, while Abraham died many years ago. I’m not youthful anymore. I don’t have much time left.”
Whistler hobbled into the room as Madame Vanity spoke and took a seat next to Blade.
“I’m not sure you should bother with him.” Whistler shook his head. “He’s recently lost all feeling for everyone he cares about.”
Blade sat there and absorbed the punishment. He knew that he deserved it. But he also knew that he couldn’t drag along his crippled brother to fight the most powerful vampire in the world. Blade may have lost the ability to display emotion, but he still cared enough to save his brother’s life.
“What’s going on between you two?” Madame Vanity asked.
Both of the men remained silent.
Whistler looked over at the Daywalker.
“Blade, I made some injections to take with you. They’re on your bed. I also gathered whatever weapons I thought might help and left them there as well.” Whistler paused and half-heartedly smiled. “Good luck.”
Whistler then stood up, using his cane as he limped out of the room.
“Now I understand.” Madame Vanity looked at Blade, realizing that he was leaving Whistler behind for his own safety. “There’s one correct choice you’ve made.”
Whistler had returned to his bedroom, where Rachel’s final letter was sitting on his desk. He had gone back and forth in his head whether or not he should tell his brother about her transformation. He felt that Blade had to learn his lesson, that he needed Whistler. He missed being the sidekick. He knew the risk, but was hoping that the reward would be worth it.
Meanwhile, Blade returned to his own bedroom to find his bed covered in various objects. The injections. The weapons. Whistler had given Blade a full supply for a long trip.
The thing Whistler didn’t understand was that Blade also missed him as a sidekick. The Daywalker just understood that the risk wasn’t worth the reward.
January 12, 1982, Boston, Massachusetts
Blade was sitting on a stool at the bar, next to a perfectly healthy Whistler. The scene was a live, energetic nightclub also known as Delirium. This was one of the Daywalker’s first visits to the nightclub.
Blade had just finished his tenth shot of whiskey. He raised his eyes until they met with the female bartender. She smiled at him as he signaled her to come over.
“Another?” She laughed.
He nodded.
“Coming right up.” She smiled at him, flashing her fangs.
Delirium was home to vampires. The bouncers at the front door only allowed vampires inside, unless a human was escorted by a bloodsucker. To vampires, humans had a distinguishing smell that was easily recognizable. Occasionally the bouncers would escort a human inside, only to later be a snack for the other occupants of Delirium. That was just how Xarus operated.
“I told you we should go out and have some fun.” Whistler mumbled his words, as he was eight shots of whiskey in. “This is the best!”
While Whistler was enjoying himself, Blade was keeping an eye out on his environment. He was watching to see which vampires were doing the most talking. Seeing who might be in the middle of the rumor mill, hoping he could find a lead on Deacon Frost.
Whistler leaned forward and noticed a beautiful female sitting next to Blade.
“Hey, Blade. Talk to her. I want to see if you can score a lady.” Whistler spoke a little too loudly as his drunk mind couldn’t comprehend the level of his voice.
The woman sitting next to Blade shyly smiled and avoided eye contact with him.
The Daywalker wasn’t always a coldblooded vampire hunter. He used to be a bit more outgoing and accepting. His hatred for Deacon Frost had always existed, but he didn’t always completely hate the entire vampire race. After all, he was a part of it.
“Don’t mind my friend over here, he can’t hold his liquor like we can.” Blade joked with the woman.
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Another shot!” Whistler shouted at the bartender.
“You’re shut off, Whistler.” Blade spoke up.
The bartender came over and poured Blade his next shot, but listened to him and didn’t give Whistler another one.
“I’m shut what? Shut what, Blade? I do believe you just said shut off.” Whistler looked at his brother, barely able to hold up his heavy head.
The Daywalker nodded.
“Oh, whatever. I’m going to go wait in the van and,” Whistler stood up, “maybe take a nap. You can drive us home when you’re done here.”
The woman next the Blade laughed at Whistler as he wobbled off.
“Hey, why don’t you come with me? We can go into one of the feeding rooms if you’d like.” She smiled at him.
Delirium was outfitted with many feeding rooms. In case a human was captured, or on specialty nights, vampires would be permitted to use the feeding rooms. In other cases, any vampire was allowed to use the lockable room for up to twenty minutes. The vampire community was a lively bunch.
The woman grabbed Blade’s hand as she stood up, and he followed suit. She led him to the nearest feeding room and locked the door behind them. The room was very simple with nothing more than a large bed in the middle and a blood-red color scheme to avoid stains as much as possible.
“I can’t believe I’m with the Daywalker.” She smiled as she took a seat on the bed.
Blade cocked an eyebrow. “You know who I am?”
“Most people do at this point, Blade. However, I am more likely than most.”
“And why is that?” He curiously asked her.
She looked nervous. “Because I’m a hunter.”
Blade calmly reacted. “A hunter? How? You don’t smell like a human.”
“We’ve learned to mask our scent. It’s helped a lot.” She paused. “Is it true you don’t eat live?”
“Well, we’re sitting in a locked feeding room and you’re still alive.” Blade smirked.
The hunter didn’t take in his humor. “Good. I need your help. I’m tracking down a vampire named Dracula. He’s been around for a while, maybe you’ve heard of him.”
“I’ve heard the name mentioned. Why do you need my help?”
“Because he’s too powerful for me, but with your help I might be able to kill him. But don’t worry, I’ll help you in return. I know you’re looking for Deacon Frost and I’m willing to assist you with that.”
Blade was surprised. “Do you have information on Frost?”
“No, but I’m very good at getting information. As you can see.” She smiled.
“I’ll help you, but only after we find Frost. He’s the priority. I won’t hold you to anything, but I’m not helping with Dracula until we locate Frost.”
“Deal.” She stuck out her hand with hesitation.
Blade awkwardly stuck out his hand and shook hers.
“I’m Rachel by the way. Rachel Van Helsing.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The two of them kept shaking hands as they looked at each other.
“I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, but...” Rachel trailed off.
Slowly, they both leaned forward and kissed. They continued to passionately kiss as the scene became more intense. They began to remove each other’s top layers as Blade pushed Rachel on to her back. He leaned in and continued to kiss her, down her cheek and then her neck.
Immediately, Blade pulled away. He frantically put his clothes back on.
“What? What is it?” Rachel asked.
Blade turned his head towards her. His eyes were completely black and his fangs were showing.
“I can’t. The adrenaline is too much.” He replied.
“Oh.” She paused. “I understand.”
Rachel sat up and began to put her clothes back on. After she was done getting fully clothed, Blade unlocked the door and exited the room without saying a word.
She followed him out of the room and then out of Delirium back to the van. Blade opened the back of the van and found Whistler inside, leaning against one of the walls with ashes next to him.
Whistler pushed himself up and looked over at Blade and Rachel. “There were these two vampires that tried to eat me, but then I was all like, oh no you don’t and then I ashed them.”
Blade and Rachel couldn’t even say a word before Whistler collapsed and passed out.
“How do you mask your scent?” Blade changed the subject as they both stared at Whistler.
“Garlic. Lots of garlic. It smells terrible to humans, but it masks all smell from vampires.”
“Makes sense.” Blade said as he walked towards the front of the van.
February 28, 1985, London, England
Blade walked out of the brothel carrying a big duffel bag. Behind him were his brother and mother, who took seats on the stairs as they watched him walk to the van.
The Daywalker went around back and threw the last bag into the car. Madame Vanity and Whistler spoke as Blade finished packing for his imminent departure.
“Why did Eric give up on hunting Frost? Blade’s never given up.” Madame Vanity questioned, keeping her eyes on Blade.
“He was beaten. Defeated. I’m not sure he’s ever experienced such humility.”
She sadly nodded. “He had to learn some time.”
Whistler nervously fiddled with his cane. “I can’t believe he’s going without me.”
“He has to, Whistler. For several reasons.”
Whistler responded defensively. “I know I’m less able now, but I can still help.”
“That’s only one of the reasons. We all know you can still help him, Abraham. However, finding Rachel is something he’s going to have to do on his own. He has to figure out his life.”
Whistler had previously informed Madame Vanity on the situation regarding Rachel. He went to his mother for advice that he desperately needed and she successfully provided it. She ended up agreeing that it was better to not tell Blade about Rachel, as it might send him into a rage. When dealing with this half-vampire, rage was one of the emotions you desperately wanted to avoid as it could send him into a feeding frenzy.
“This mission is dangerous. He might not make it.” Whistler stared at his brother as he approached.
“Eric always makes it. He’s been a survivor since birth.” She stared at her son.
Blade closed the car’s trunk and popped his sunglasses on over his eyes. He looked over at his mother and brother sitting on the stairs. He was leaving what little remained of his family behind, but everyone involved knew it was for the best. They each had their reasoning for where they were at that moment.
Blade gave a goodbye nod to his family. Madame Vanity smiled, while Whistler returned the nod.
The Daywalker then climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car’s engine. His next journey had just begun. He was off to find Abraham Van Helsing.