Chapter 22
The journey back to the club was muted by failure. Josephine's idea to convince the Cleaners to join us had proved to be too optimistic and my plan had been too confrontational. We were alone against the might of the Elders as well as the institution of the Cleaners. Michael's threat of incoming reinforcements weighed heavy on our minds.
It was Josephine who broke the silence.
"Ze time for caution is over... war 'as begun", she said sadly.
"We must commence recruitment immediately", said Vincent, unable to hide his excitement.
"At ze club tonight, we recruit volunteers", Josephine said in a serious tone, visibly forcing herself to move past the failure of her plan.
George caught my eye. We both knew that volunteers would not be enough. We were on the defensive now and the nights to come would be the fight for our lives, against odds which stacked against us at every moment of inactivity.
"If we're at war now, I can't wear the enemy's uniform", Andre said oddly cheerfully as he looked out the window at the high-street shops.
"Fair point", I said. "Stop here", I called to the driver.
Andre and I got out of the cab,
We were near the Rogue's club on Camden Town high-street. It was still early evening and the shops had yet to close. It was the strange part at the end of the year when it gets dark so early that the night time and day time worlds blend into one.
Young drunk students and middle aged executives clinging to their evaporating youth, stumbled between pubs, shouting and laughing as they tried to cram as much fun as possible into their brief lives. They clashed with the high-street shoppers. Plastic bags of clothes and early Christmas presents from the sales, flailed in the air like feathers from startled birds whenever the two worlds collided.
Andre and I ducked into a clothing store. The second that we crossed the threshold, an overly chirpy staff member ambushed us.
"How can I help you?" he beamed with an fake friendly grin reminiscent of Vincent. I was unfamiliar with the ritual of shopping, having worn the same uniform since the end of The War.
"I would like some clothes please", I said politely.
"Erm... OK", said the confused shop assistant, "what kind of clothes are you looking for?"
I looked down at what I wore.
"Anything that isn't black", I replied.
Andre sighed.
"Don't worry mate, I'll handle this", he told the shop assistant. He seized me by the arm and dragged me to the men's section.
"Look through the racks for somfin' you like then try it on in there", he said, gesturing to the changing rooms before hurriedly walking away to browse for himself.
"We got money right?" he froze and asked over his shoulder in a sudden panic.
I fished into my jacket pocket and pulled out the roll of notes I had been given for the pig's blood run. It felt like an eternity ago.
"Safe", Andre said happily as he disappeared between the colourful racks of fabrics.
I pulled a pair of charcoal coloured jeans from a rack, and a bundle of shirts in different colours that looked about my size. On the way to the changing room that Andre had pointed out, I passed a display of shoes. I backtracked and stared at the variety of them. A sign informing me that a pair of Dr Martin's were acid proof, persuaded me to pick up a dark red pair, described on their label as ox blood coloured.
The rows of changing rooms were deserted. Unsure of the protocol, I walked to the furthest cubicle and pulled the curtain closed behind me. It was too short to cover the gap. There was a full length mirror attached to the wall. I peered at my reflection and pondered how long it had been since I had allowed myself this luxury.
I had been twenty four years old when I was turned. The stressful and exhausting lifestyle I had lived since then had added at least a decade to my appearance the last time I looked. However as I leaned in close, pulling and poking at my pale skin, I was surprised by the youthfulness of the young man who stared back. If it were not for the few days of stubble, I might have been asked for ID in a bar.
My wiry light brown hair had always grown strangely upwards in loose waves. It was simple to sweep it back with my hands, where it mostly stayed out of the way except an untameable curl that always fell over the left corner of my forehead.
I changed into the clothes I had picked out and left the changing room. My dirty and ripped Cleaner's uniform lay crumpled in the corner. Shedding my old skin felt very satisfying. The only item I kept was my belt, with its sheathed combat knife sewn horizontally across the back.
I found Andre at the far end of the shop looking at big winter coats. He was wearing a pair of baggy dark blue jeans, sand coloured Timberland boots and a colourful t-shirt under the large navy woollen coat he was trying on. Thankfully the new clothes he had picked out were far less garish than the ones he had worn before he was turned.
"What d'ya fink?" he asked as I approached. He fastened the big wooden buttons and admired his reflection in a tall wall mounted mirror.
"People still wear tweed?" I exclaimed, ignoring his question when a display caught my eye.
"Yea, hipsters and old posh geezers going hunting", said Andre with a dismissive snort.
I pulled a dark brown Harris tweed blazer with a red silk lining off a rack and tried it on.
"Perfect fit", I smiled.
"Makes you look old bruv", Andre said disapprovingly.
"I am a hundred and twenty...ish", I replied with a laugh, "I am old".
I picked up a long and warm dark red scarf from a shelf and wrapped it twice around my neck.
The previously enthusiastic shop assistant seemed perturbed by us walking out of the shop wearing our new clothes, but kept his thoughts to himself after being presented with the money I peeled off my roll of notes.
By the time we reached the Rogue's club, there was already a queue of young people dressed in black and leather waiting outside. We waked past them to the large front doors. As the bouncer stepped aside to allow us past, someone in the queue shouted, "Oi! How come they get to go right to the front?"
Andre turned to them and hissed, bearing his elongated teeth. The Human who had spoken jumped in fright. Their friends around him bust into laughter.
"Those are some awesome prosthetics, they must be members or somefin'", I heard them say to each other as we entered through the double doors.
The girl at the ticket booth was far more hospitable than before.
"We advertised online that entry tonight is free before midnight for a special party, so it will be totally packed like you wanted", she informed me with a coy smile.
She flicked one of her peroxide dreadlocks over her shoulder. I caught a glimpse of several bite marks on her neck.
"Great", Andre replied with a predatory grin.
We strolled through the doors that led from the entrance lobby to the club. The wall of sound I had been expecting was absent. The calm music was at a lower volume. Instead of wild dancing, the small amount of people inside sat on the sofas and leant against the bar, conversing and sipping drinks.
Andre and I walked up the stairs to the VIP bar.
"Let's get some drinks", he suggested.
"We are going to need them", I replied.
Josephine emerged from the corridor that led to the adjacent abandoned hotel.
"You look like a librarian", she giggled when she saw me.
Andre laughed so hard at this that he choked on his beer. I narrowed my eyes at Josephine in a mock look of sternness.
"I forgot to give you zis. I took if from you at our fight at ze 'ospital", she said and handed me my gun.
"It wasn't a fair fight", I said, slightly embarrassed as I took the small pistol back and tucked it into the inside pocket of my tweed jacket, "I only had one working hand".
"I am just glad zat we do not 'ave to 'ave a rematch", she said kindly.
I took a big swig of my pint of beer while she ordered a cocktail from the Human bartender.
"Is everyfin' sorted for the turnings tonight?" Andre asked Josephine.
"Oui, just do w'at ze uzzers do... after tonight we shall 'ave forces big enough to protect ourselves".
She seemed nervous. The prospect of exposing The Secret to an entire club full of Humans did not sit well with me either. Turning so many at once went against everything I had learnt from my considerable experience as a Cleaner protecting The Secret, but it was a necessary evil since we had such little time in which to build an army to confront the Cleaner's reinforcements.
"Excusez-moi", said Josephine after she finished her drink, "I need to make sure everything is ready".
After she left, Andre and I ordered several more pints of larger. The bartender suggested splashing a few drops of chilled Human blood into the pints. The taste was improved drastically. Since he was aware of what was happening around him, I inquired as to whether he wished to become one of us. He was unable to hide his excitement when I promised to turn him later that night.
As the evening drifted into night, the club was transformed. As if actors in a well rehearsed performance, the Rogues rapidly prepared for the opening of the front doors and the arrival of hundreds of partying Humans. The quiet background music was suddenly cut off and replaced with the thumping drum and bass of what Andre informed me was, "industrial techno or some Goth shit". Scantily glad Rogues, both male and female, leapt up onto the raised platforms, cages and poles to dance provocatively. All lights were turned off except sweeping multi-coloured spotlights and flashing neon, which both glinted off the mirrors placed along the black and red painted walls and columns. As soon as the Humans were shepherded into the slaughterhouse, the party begun in earnest. All the excited Rogues mingled with the people on the dance floor and at the long neon bar: dancing, seducing, fondling, shouting in their ears so as to be heard over the music.
Screams of distorted guitars wailed over the thumping drum and bass so loud that the walls and floor vibrated. Strobe lights flashed over the main dance floor, making the writhing masses continuously vanish and reappear, flickering between different static poses.
As the night progressed the levels of intoxication and debauchery grew in tandem. Barely clothed Humans writhed against the hungry Rogues on the dance-floor and joined them on the raised podiums and cages, where they were watched closely by predatory eyes.
I spent the first hour with Andre, perched on a barstool at the long neon lit bar in the main part of the club. We absorbed all the chaos and licentiousness around us, threw back brightly coloured shots and laughed as we enjoyed people-watching. I was unpleasantly reminded that I was amongst them and not watching through a glass wall in a zoo, when a girl took Andre by the hand and pulled him after her onto the dance-floor, where they disappeared into the writhing mass of sweaty leather bound flesh.
I relocated to the VIP lounge and tried to relax on the white leather sofas with Vincent. He had invited three pretty Human girls to join us. They giggled at his charm and his jokes and chugged our champagne like parched desert explorers at an oasis.
One of the girls decided she wasn't getting as much attention from Vincent as the other two, and so turned to me.
"So what's this party celebrating?" she asked, trying to spark a conversation.
"Pardon?" I said.
I had been absorbed in worrying about the possible consequences of tonight's plan and had not noticed her.
"What's the occasion?" she shouted over the loud music pumped out of the giant speakers down the stairs.
"At midnight we are going to kill everyone in this building", I replied candidly.
"You're weird", the girl said, looking uncomfortable.
I laughed at the notion that a young girl in a gothic Vampire fetish club, dressed like a Victorian prostitute, thought that I was weird. My laughed appeared to put her slightly at ease.
"You have only got twenty minutes left, better drink up and enjoy it", I said with a devilish grin.
Just before midnight, Vincent made his way over to the raised DJ booth. He turned off the music and picked up a microphone. Everyone in the club froze and turned to listen.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and those in-between. Tonight is a momentous occasion, the likes of which the world has not seen in a century... before most of us were born", he began in his grandiose circus master manner. I scanned the smiling faces of the crowd from my high vantage point. They all looked excited and curious.
"Remember before we feast, that there is a purpose to all this", he said sternly, "so don't play too much with your food", he chuckled.
The Rogues scattered amongst the Humans on the dance-floor sniggered.
"What is he talking about?", whispered the girl on the sofa.
I ignored her. The smiles had faded from the faces of the crowd. The Humans began to look confused.
Vincent raised his arm to look at his large extravagant watch. As it reached midnight, he beamed with his big toothy grin, exposing his fangs, looked to the disapproving Josephine and said, " Bon appetit".
The rapid thumping music kicked back in and all the lights except those of the neon bar fell, drowning the Humans in darkness through which only we could see. The moment that the music restarted, the Rogues descended upon the prey they had been stalking all night.
There was a delay before the screaming began. The DJ turned the volume up even louder to drown out the noise of the Humans' panic. The strobe light started again, flashing occasionally to briefly illuminate the Rogues feeding, frozen like a statue for a moment before moving in the dark to strike a new pose with a different victim at the next flash.
The three Human girls still on the VIP sofas with me, watched from above. Horror flooded their faces as the reality of the events below dawned on them.
I removed my scarf and tweed jacket, folded them neatly and placed them on my seat, before I turned to face the girl who had called me weird.
I smiled like a shark and licked one of my elongated canines with the tip of my tongue. The girl tried to scream, but I lunged forward and my teeth pierced her throat before she could make a sound. Her blood burst out of the wound I carved in her neck. The pressure from her carotid artery sprayed the thick, warm and delicious liquid down my throat.
Her two friends tried to run out of the VIP lounge but bumped straight into Vincent, who had been grooming them for this very purpose and had returned to feed from them.
The girl had initially struggled, flailing her arms in the air in an attempt to break free. I felt her efforts wane and so stopped just before her death to bite open my own wrist and force my blood into her mouth. The second that she seemed re-energized and reached to cling onto my arm, I snapped her neck. I left her lying on the now blood splattered sofa and descended the stairs to the dance-floor.
The club was overcome with beautiful carnage. Down amongst the panicked fleeing Humans, pressed up close as they stampeded over each other towards the locked doors, the loud music could not drown out the desperate and terrified screams. The floor was slippery underfoot with spilt blood. Many skidded and fell as they tried in vain to escape. One after another, I caught Humans that tried to run past, like a bear fishing for salmon leaping out of a river. I bit down hard into their throats and drained them to the point of death before feeding them my blood and finishing them off by snapping their spines.
The Rogues who had been dancing on raised podiums and cages, pounced down onto their prey from above, pinning them to the ground, slashing their necks open to feed, and giving them drips of their own blood before snapping their heads back, all in a matter of minutes. I admired their brutal efficiently.
The dance-floor was piled high with the corpses of those who had been drained and turned. Still more clambered over the bodies of their friends and slipped on their spilt blood in a desperate bid to flee. I saw Andre in the middle of the chaos, standing behind the girl who had pulled him by the hand to dance with her. His teeth were deep in the side of her throat. Her blood bubbled out so fast that it gushed out of the corners of his mouth and soaked into his t-shirt. After her head flopped defeated to one side, he released her, bit open his own wrist and placed the wound in her mouth. I caught his eye and smiled proudly. His ice blue eyes shined with excitement. As soon as she grasped his arm wanting more, he snapped her neck with one hand whilst seizing the arm of a young man that was running past with the other, and promptly turning him too.
The pounding bass and wailing distorted guitars of the all-consumingly loud music provided the perfect chaotic accompaniment to the slaughter in the club. For the first time, my face and clothes soaked in blood and in my natural element, I enjoyed the music instead of being irritated by it.
Time flies when you're having fun. Soon we had only the grisly task of mopping up the remainder that cowered in tears at the locked doors. All the sport of the hunt was gone in that circumstance so I left the task to other Rogues. My head was spinning uncontrollably, I was seeing random splashes and swirls of bright colours in my peripheral vision, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
I pulled Andre off a young man from whom he was feeding and dragged him to back towards the barstools we had occupied earlier. We stumbled around the corpses that carpeted the floor, giggling hysterically at nothing in particular. Behind the bar, the Human bartender looked mortified. I kept my promise and turned him, but not before he had poured us both one last cold pint each. He presented the cold glass to me in his trembling hands. I scratched his wrist with my nails and held his arm steady, dripping the blood into the frothy head of the pints to turn them pink.
Andre and I sat at the bar for a while, propped up on our elbows, swigging spirits straight out of the bottle while we watched the last of the Human revellers drained and turned by the well fed Rogues.