The Beast

6 - The errand boy

Manchester, 1910, 122 years later - Clocksworth

The air in the storeroom was filled with cigar smoke and soot from the burning coal in the nearby factory, and once again I was grateful for my vampire blood. They could throw in a fucking smoke bomb for all I was worth but I wouldn't cough and my eyes wouldn't shed a single tear as everyone else choked to death. Cigar smoke, however, helped me when I needed to keep my head cool. Like now. We were planning a big robbery, we needed to finish quickly and we needed the guns for our big operation. I couldn't let my nerves fail me now.

"What the hell do you mean fifty?! That's half of what you promised!" I hissed between my clenched teeth.

"That's all we could get in such a short time," the idiot mumbled, looking down to avoid my burning eyes. "But we have a case of Gin for your Boss. I'm sure he'll be very pleased! It's the popular kind!"

I rolled my eyes at the idiot who thought he could smooth over his mistake with a few bottles of booze? As if Anthony would care. I sighed, rubbed my eyebrows with my fingers and looked at the wooden boxes.

"Johnny, check the boxes," I ordered the dirty blond boy who had been standing behind me. He was new, we had brought him in a few weeks ago. He came from the streets and all that, and he was grateful and worked his ass off for us. "And count every weapon in there. I don't want to stand in front of our Boss with the wrong fucking number on my lips. Understand?!" I added, looking grim.

"Yes, Clock... Boss," the young boy stammered and ran off to open the boxes with a crowbar while I leaned against the wall and smelled the gin I had been offered. It was a tasty drink, but not like whiskey, God I loved that drink. The corrosive feeling as it ran down my throat made me addicted to it. "Why is it taking so damn long?! My husband will burn me alive if I'm late for dinner again," I yelled after only ten minutes, but why the hell would I give them more time than that. I was already in a bad mood, I could have given them five just to have the opportunity to punch their faces bloody. God knew I could use a little release of all my tension before I got home.

"It's 47," Johnny said as he came up to me with his breath in his throat.

"You are absolutely sure?" I asked the human boy calmly and handed him my glass.

"Yes, Boss, I've double-checked, I promise."

The salesman, what was his name again? I could never remember these British names no matter how hard I tried. They all sounded the same to me. He was already backing up. "My Boss does not tolerate lies my friend," I said as calmly as I could as I walked towards him and took out my gun from inside my tweed jacket.

The man took a few more faltering steps backwards, the men standing around him hesitated. Would they shoot me? As if I cared, their guns were loaded with regular bullets, I wasn't going to die. I would stand up with blood dripping from holes in my body. But they didn't know that, and unfortunately Anthony didn't want them to know that either, so I had to watch my steps.

"I didn't know!" he shouted with wide-open, terrified eyes.

He was lying, I thought. I saw it in his eyes, I smelled it, I even heard it in his voice. And I thanked my beautiful Luis for it. My senses had been heightened ever since the day we got married, and I loved it. "Oh, is that so?" I said in a silky voice. "But how do I explain it to him? Hm?" I raised my gun and pointed it at his forehead while tilting my head to the side.

"I'll give you 53 on Monday!" He said with his hands pointing to the ceiling.

"Monday," I said firmly, then turned around, took the glass from Johnny's hand, finished my drink and threw the glass against the wall. The sound made all five men in the room take a step back, and their fear gave me confidence. "Come on Johnny, time to go, let the idiots load the car for us."