9.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The old nightclub hadn’t changed in the few weeks since I’d last been there, and yet I stepped in I looked on the shabby black-painted walls and sagging lighting strips with fresh eyes. In the first week of my unlife, I had been newly turned and still thought of it as my next great adventure. I’d stood in the audience and watched Brendan work the floor, swapping cheeky double entendres, sweeping them all into song with the swish of a skirt. Brendan, still dressed as Divine, admired my new purple suit (ruined at the ghoul fight and now long gone) and asked who the new sugar daddy was. I admitted to having a new job, a new name, and taking on a new role in which great things were expected.
Oh boy, was I naive.
My first stop was at the bar for a carafe of good red and two glasses. As I made my way through the crowds, I cut my finger and allowed a little of my blood to roll down the neck of the carafe. My movement through the crowd mixed the two. The place was crowded. The poster outside had said, ‘LAST DAYS’ and old and new fans now flocked to Miss Divine Intervention’s final few shows at the old venue.
I was remembered by a waiter from the old days who gestured me to a small reserved table just to the side of the stage. What would normally be a poor view of the entertainment became centre stage as I once more watched Miss Divine stroll through the crowd, the Queen and their devoted subjects. I turned on Auspex and enjoyed the flow of colours around the room as Miss Divine’s gaze moved from table to table. Waves of deep red desire tipped with sea foam of deep green envy were decorated with sparking points of blue, of love and black of spiteful hatred. The former and latter were old faces in this crowd, and I caught their eye in turn. The former waved back happily, miming mock tears at the loss of their Queen. The latter, two old queens sneered, knowing whose favourite I was.
Miss Divine herself was a cloud of golden light. Performing was a spiritual act, and I basked in the only radiance I could stand these days. Miss Divine gave her all. Pink waves of compassion fell on those who she’d found worthy, spikes of vermillion pleasure for those who joined in her game. And it was a game, the most serious sort of all. The game between the performer and their audience. The performers ensured that, at least at this time, in this place, everything was as it should be. The audience playing along with the lie.
Once or twice, Miss Divine’s golden-tipped eyelashes batted in my direction. She was teasing me, making me wait on her…for her…and that was fine with me. I poured a glass of wine and drank deeply, settling back into my seat and leaving the stress of this new life outside the doors. I, too, knew how to play the game.
Eventually, she stood before me, a smile of pleasure on her painted lips, a hand on her hip telling me they weren’t to be taken lightly. I casually kicked out a chair and poured a second glass of wine. Miss Divine swept her tumble of the iridescent pleated skirt to one side and sat, legs too shapely for mere humans delicately draped to the other.
“Thank you, sweetie. You’ve been missed. You went all cold on me, but here you are…” She lifted the glass to her shimmering lips and sipped delicately as not to disturb the makeup. Eyelids fluttered as she flirted with me outrageously, “What’s the occasion?”
“Ah,” I sighed, taking the moment in, “Living. It’s been a… tough week, but I am finally here.” I was aware that my smile was brittle, not as natural as I’d like.
“What was his name?”
“The Italian?” A flash of Abrogino leaning over me, pulling out my tongue from deep in my chest, tearing it out to force it into Lupara. I laughed to give myself time to clear my thoughts, “You’re better off not knowing that one.”
“You always had a weakness for spaghetti and meatballs,” She teased, and I laughed for real at the verbal jousting, “So, if you’re not here to talk about boys, what are you doing here?”
I tried not to take that personally, but it had been almost two months, and Brendan, if not Miss Divine, deserved an honest answer.
“To see you! I’ve been trying to get away for days. I just need a night out without work connections and problems. Life’s been….too…serious for…weeks, and I think I forgot how to have a good time.”
“I can definitely help you with that,” She smiled, perfect white veneers behind the scarlet lips, “Why don’t you wait here until after the show? I’ll get out of the frock and locks, and we make a night of it.”
“I am all yours!” I exclaimed with relief.
“I’m glad to hear you say that. We can do some poppers and paint the town red.”
Vermillion, I thought, seeing the colour make a soft cloud around the coiffured curls of Miss Divine’s blonde wig.
We’ll paint it, Vermillion. The idea of poppers brought the thought of a more physical night than I’d first intended. But, I had said I was all theirs and meant it. Tonight was for mindless revelry.
“It’s a date. Until then, why don’t we make the crowd jealous, you and me, like old times? The Sunshine and the Rain together will make beautiful Rainbows.”
At that, my smile was neither forced nor brittle, “You always knew how to speak my language.”
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
As the Luna fades, Eclipse rises…
The darkness of the pool was viscose as Eclipse slowly rose and broke the surface, still clutching the femur. Cheers and gasps of relief burst into awareness from above as she looked to see five pale faces staring back at her. She felt like she was coming down with something, maybe the start of a headache? She wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, she was not Luna anymore. She was Eclipse, rising darkly from the pool, the femur dropping out of her hand. She knew who she was because, in the back of her mind, a small voice chirped annoyingly.
Well, this is just great! Is this really what you wanted? Said Luna.
What we deserve, Eclipse replied as the small crowd of Baali gathered around her in congratulations.
We could have ruled this city! I was bright! I was the moon! Now look at you, a mere shadow of me.
One of the Baali offered her a black robe and Eclipse glanced around to see all five wearing identical robes.
Oh look. They think you’re one of them now.
“Welcome back! You were down there a while, we were worried…that is to say…sometimes initiates don’t make it. But you’ve more than justified our faith in you. It’s time for a few…esoteric introductions.” Said the stair guy as the others formed in a circle, “I’m Tuesday. This is Monday,” He pointed at a man with floppy blonde hair, “These two are Friday and Saturday,” Two young women closer to Ecipse’s age, who giggled like school girls, “Thursday…is around here somewhere, he’s shy, and we’re still looking for a Wednesday. We’re hoping that you would be our Sunday.”
Sunday. How fitting. The holy day? Special and set apart. Also the last day of the week. Oh, if only they knew.
Quiet!
“Sounds good to me, better than Fat Wednesday.”
“Perfect. The names do serve a purpose. Part of the reason we’re here. Each day of the week requires a… supplicant…and a sacrifice. We all have our day to do it. Your day will be Sunday. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how it’s done. There are still a few days until Sunday. Then you’ll bring your person and lay them on the altar.”
The circle broke and revealed a large single piece of iridescent opal. What light there was in the room entered one part of the block and exited as a stream of colours like flickering flames. The colours reminded her of the iridescent scales on the snake from her vision.
“Yes, I know it’s a bit poetic, but it stops us from enjoying the process, “ He explained and Ecipse guessed some might get off on the idea of the ritual. A feeling of being holy and special, like Abram and his son, Isac.
Izac.
“So, bring a person in, worship something, kill them on the altar…” Eclipse said as if reading a to-do list.
“Oh, no killing. Their death is a result of their soul being spent. It’s the soul that is needed for all this to work.” Tuesday explained, “But you seem pretty okay with all this.”
“I’ll make do,” Eclipse replied as if ritual sacrifice was no big deal “I’ll figure out the cracks, learn and adapt.”
Tuesday looked at her oddly, “Odd turn of phrase. This task is more about filling in the cracks, making sure they don’t get through.”
“Ah, but to fix it, you must first know what is broken,” Eclipse responded, and Tuesday had to agree.
“Too right. Maybe your fresh eyes are just what this fraternity was missing.”
“Who are usually the sacrifices?” Eclipse asked, changing the subject.
“Each one of us picks our choice of sacrifice. We all have our ways of finding them. Most are just prostitutes, vulnerable and easy to lure anywhere. Stray kids? Those who won’t be noticed if they go missing. Others find those whose death would serve a greater purpose. But we all bring somebody.”
Tuesday gestured to the man with the long, floppy hair, talking to the giggling girls, “Monday has a little experiment he’s been working on for five hundred years or so. He’s been raising ghouls…have you heard of revenants?”
Eclipse shook her head.
“Naturally occurring ghouls, “ He replied with distaste,, “He raises them like livestock. Something he picked up on a trip to Eastern Europe. What do you think you’ll pick? What will be your motif?”
“My motif is yet to be decided. Every kill should be a good kill. They all serve the same purpose, right?”
“Too right. If you’re interested, we can do one now while you’re here. You can watch and see if you see any cracks in the ritual. That is if you’re not too squeamish.”
This wasn’t a dare, a question probing to see how ready she was. He seemed genuinely concerned about easing her path.
“Hmm, we live and learn,” She replied casually.
“Alrighty then,” Tuesday started gathering the group for the ritual before returning to Eclipse’s side. “You don’t always have to be here for the ritual, but this is your first. Would you like a place close to the front or behind the group?”
“Behind,” She replied as the group formed around the altar. Some giggled with nervous energy, others were solemn, invested in the seriousness of what they were about to do. There were a few prayers, and Friday attempted a chant before Tuesday elbowed them for being silly.
The coloured fire from the altar glowed and shifted under the candlelight. More than ever, Eclipse saw snakes slithering and writhing in the darkness of the rock. A man Eclipse had noticed before now entered the circle solemnly dragging a chain. Behind him, a woman, young and once pretty, now naked and covered in bites, followed, barely conscious enough to stay on her feet. Her head bowed, dark straggly hair hanging lank, she looked like she’d already given up and was resigned to her fate. As she passed Eclipse, her dark eyes looked up, large in her gaunt face. Eclipse imaged she recognised a pleading, a look from one who had no power to someone who, at least to them, could save them. In a flash, she saw the dog, Boofhead, the moment after Izac had stabbed it with the broom handle. Its head turned to hers, and its large brown eyes held the same pleading look before fading away to death.
Thursday yanked on the chain. The girl was pulled forward, and her eyes dragged away. The moment was gone. Eclipse remained silent. Just as she had in the forest.
The girl started crying as they lifted her reverently up onto the altar and laid her out. Though it was clear the vampires had used her, there was no sign of abuse. Thursday and indeed all the others had gone to pains to make sure this young woman did not die…too early.
The days of the week closed in the circle. Where Wednesday and Sunday would stand were gaps. Eclipse moved to stand behind the ring, behind her future position in the circle. From insideThursday’s robes, a black dagger was revealed. Blue and red iridescent fire flashed from inside its crystalline surface and Eclipse realised it was a near-footlong dagger made of pure black opal. With the dagger raised high, Thursday’s other hand hovered down the girl’s torso until he’d found the place just under her ribcage. In a flash, the dagger plunged up to the hilt in the girl’s flesh. The girl’s screams tore through the ears of those listening, echoing through the stone-clad room. She arched, and Eclipse could clearly see the dagger, running the girl through and entering the altar stone below. What she couldn’t see was any sign of blood, not on the altar under her, not from the girl herself.
The girl’s screams now became strangled as the skin around the dagger dried and mummied. Once started, the drying effect quickly took hold until the girls strangled cry became nothing but a silent scream, an exhalation and then…nothing. In half a minute a living being was turned into a husk, a mummy that eventually collapsed to dust. Thursday removed the dagger and where the blade had contacted the altar’s polished surface, nothing. No mark or scratch. She looked at the blade. It too was spotless.
“Do you think you’ll want one of your own, or do you mind sharing?” Tuesday said, noting her interest in the dagger. He took the dagger from Thursday to give her a better look. The full dagger was black opal, blade and tang with a cross guard of the same black stone. The colours shimmered down the black without fault of blemish.
“I can have my own?” She asked in surprise. In her short life, she’d never seen something so beautiful.
“You can, but..” Tuesday trailed off as if he now considered her unworthy or possibly unable.
“But…”
“It’s special…they don’t just come to anyone…and you do have to go out and find your own. They’re found at a place called Lightning Ridge, about a ten-hour drive northwest. Would you be willing to make the pilgrimage?”
Luna thought, trying to remember what she knew about out the west, what most Australians called “The Bush”. Nothing. She could quote the known lines of Pharoah’s back to Narmer, but her map of Australia might as well stopped at the Blue Mountains. To her, Lightning Ridge sounded like something out of a science fiction story.
“You have to find your piece. It will call to you…sing, to you.” Tuesday continued to wax lyrical, ignoring Eclipse’s frustrated expression.
“A weekly sacrifice by you. And that’s it. To keep things going.”
“Well, if it’s what must be done.” Eclipse mouthed the words she knew he wanted to hear.
“Exactly. I’m glad we picked you.” Tuesday was pleased with himself at how well Luna’s conversion had gone, “And now we go on with our unlives. Speaking of which, is there anything you were planning to do with the rest of tonight? We usually go out for a few drinks afterwards, but I understand if you want to keep up your old profile. You know, keep up appearance?”
Eclipse smiled, “I’m sure appearances can wait for one night. I’d like to get to know some new, old faces.”
“Alright. Well, you tell us. Where do you want to go?”
“You’re all older than me. I’m sure you know more places than me.”
“Yes, but…I’m not sure you’re ready for that. Have you heard of Hoodoo?”
“No,” Eclipse admitted, but it did sound familiar.
“Voodoo, maybe?”
“A crude idea, but yes. To an extent.”
“We have a taste for things more primal. Snake dancing and fire dancing…we’ve actually built quite a tolerance to fire. We just like to cut loose, but we don’t want to embarrass you with our archaic practices.”
“That’s understandable,” Eclipse said.
“And we want to get to know you and your world. Your practices and sensibilities.”
“Well, where I usually go is not available…”
“You mean the Crow bar? We could go there. We’ll go in plain clothes,” He gestured to the robes and Friday and Saturday ran off squealing, “We’ve been there plenty of times. In the V.I.P. room and the safety room.”
“Oh? A familiar place to you?” She joked, trying to be edgy and fit in with this group that had been committing daily human sacrifices for centuries. No one laughed.
“O-kay, well, how about we all go to the Crow Bar, and you can tell me all about this black opal,” Eclipse suggested, and Tuesday was back on board.
“Yeah, sounds good. Anyway, we won’t be going in the black robes. Over the years we’ve collected quite the wardrobe. Take your pick, have fun,” He led Eclipse over to racks of clothes covering decades of fashion. Snake motif kept catching her eye as the fashion flew past on the racks. In the end she settled for a goth-styled witch dress with long skirt with a torn hem. The asymmetrical darkness of it all somehow seemed appropriate.
As a group, the Days of the Week dressed for a night out and left their subterranean den. This time they wouldn’t take the black van, but something less creepy, a 1970s stationwagon with wood panelling down the sides.
Sure, this can work, Eclipse said to herself as she thought about what she was going to do Sunday, I’ll just get a Giovanni to unplug a keg. No problem.
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
An impromptu trip out to the farm was all well and fine, but Dominic couldn’t help but admit, as he parked the car, that it was good to be back home. Carrying his jar in the crook of one arm, he took the steps up to the common room of the Crow Bar and found Bruce working on the floor.
“Bruce, what’s being going on?” He asked noting the bar was full as usual, but there was an uncommon tension amongst the staff as they tried to fill orders.
Bruce rolled his eyes, “Delith’s gone bunked off with Stallion and Izac somewhere. I heard Rain’s met up with some of his before-time types?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a way of continuing the conversation.
“Yes, I believe he’s going to ghoul another one tonight, you’d think the boy would learn,” Dominic replied.
“Lucky them. Some of our regulars have met up with Luna. They seem to be having a night on the town as well.”
“Regulars?” With Luna the Library? “Who are they?”
“Your types, quiet thought. Hang out in the VIP area,. Pay their bills. Is there a problem?”
Was there? It was probably good that the girl got out from under the shadows of Rain and Izac and learned who she was. Still, Dominic didn’t like not knowing who these ‘regulars’ were.
“No. How’s business?”
“Good. Buys are buying. Your nephew is doing pretty well. He just needs to learn that you don’t need to make a big noise. You move, everything moves with you.”
“He’ll learn,” Dominic agreed with a perfunctory nod, “Okay, I’ll be up in my office if you need me.”
Dominic took the jar upstairs and placed it on his desk and he went through the paperwork of his international interests. As he sat there, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He looked around. It all seemed in place. Then he thought of the small hideaway in the desk in the desk itself. Flipping the switch deftly, he reached under and pulled out the desiccated head of his mother. She looked fine, maybe a few stray hairs out of place, nothing more. So, someone had found her, huh? He looked down lovingly at his mother who’s balding head he’d been absentmindedly stroking. He lifted her to head height and kissed her gently where her lips had long ago rotted away.
“There, there mother, I know. You wouldn’t have to put up with this sort of behaviour in the old country. It looked like I’ve been too lenient with them. As you were always fond of saying, ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’, hm?” He placed the head back in her hiding spot and reset the desk.
Yes, someone was going to pay for this.
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
“Are you finished yet, Stallion?” Izac looked up from writing in his notebook at Stallion and Delith hanging off the side of the old mill’s wall.
“We’ve barely started,” Complained Stallion, holding onto the one hundred year old brick work with one hand as he climbed to the place he wanted to place his tag. Really, why had Izac come if all he was going to do is sit back and watch?
Izac stepped back further from the illicit art going on before him and determinedly looked after the motorbike they’d all ridden out on.
“Yeah, come on,” Delith added as she stretched across a half-metre gap from the railing on the motorway to the wall, “This is why we came out, isn’t it?”
Izac stopped writing. Why had he come out? He was afraid that Stallion was being left out of the coterie, their discussion and intrigues. That was mostly on Rain and Luna who didn’t seem to think Stallion was trustworthy. But if that were true, why had he said Delith could come along? She wasn’t in the coterie. He did feel responsible for Stallion, at least a little. He’d made a mess with the dog and wanted to make up for it. But as Stallion remembered nothing from that time, did it really matter? Certainly, Stallion seemed interested in doing things together. But really…tagging? Roughing up people?
So, why was he out here with Luna still sulking at home?
Luna.
He checked his phone again. Nothing. It wasn’t like her. No matter how moody or upset, she always reply with some snide comment, something to tell him she was still alive and still talking to him.
Nothing. He’d looked again.
“Izac stop writing and get up here!” Delith crowed as she started putting paint to the wall, “Or are you chicken?”
Something inside Izac flared up. Me? Chicken?! Then his calmer nature reasserted itself with a sigh, Just great! Another hang-up to deal with. Reluctantly, he had to admit to have come out to tag and he should at least make a token effort. He glanced at his phone once more before putting it and his notebook back in their respective pockets and walked over to the railing.
Stallion jumped down from the wall, landing like a predator in front Izac.
“Which colour do you want?” He asked, offering up the limited selection.
“Any,” Izac said resignedly and grabbed a can. Stallion looked up at his creation.
From a distance, it looked something like a dollar sign, an ‘S’ with a line running from top to bottom. As you continued to look, the line resolved into a number of lines that looked more like clawmarks through a broken ‘S’ or infinity sign. Stallion looked pretty pleased and started on a second tag. Izac sprayed a crescent moon, disliked it almost instantly as it dripped down the wall, and threw the can back to Delith.
“See, you’re not a pussy. You did good,” She said adding the colour to her abstract creation further along the wall. It was clear she was only humouring him, especially after a few minutes she revealed her own multi-hued creation.
Izac had had enough. He was leaving to find a taxi and head back to the Leichhardt, hopefully Luna was just ensconced in her chair in the library and hadn’t seen the messages, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling…
“Look, I’m heading back. I’ll see you guys later, okay,” He said, waving the other two goodbye. Stallion was oblivious, but Delith jumped down from her place on the wall to stop him.
“Are you ready to go? Not having fun? We can go somewhere else, somewhere better?” She said before tilting her head back as if listening to something behind her. Soon Izac could hear it too, a police siren.
“See, time to go anyway. Come on, Stallion. We’ll go to a nice pub and find someone who won’t be missed.”
“What? No…” Izac bawked.
“Sure, we could order you something,” Stallion said, packing away the last of his supplies, “Maybe you can think of something to help loosen him up?”
“Sure!” Delith thought, “Izac can ride between us to the pub. He can be the creamy centre of our Oreo.” She tried getting close to Izac, but instinctually, he stepped away.
“You go ahead.”
“Come on, please…” She pleaded.
“No…I’m done. See ya.” And without turning around, he walked down the off-ramp of the motorway.
What had once been the turn of the 19th-century heavy industry was now a residential zone, and Izac was surprised to find a light rail station. No taxi, but if he rode the light rail for a few stops, he could arrange a taxi to pick him up. As he held his Opal card on the reader, his hands showed red and green. They were covered in dry spray paint. Guiltily, he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and hid amongst the others making their way home.
And now it was just Stallion and Delith riding through the night to a pub she knew of in Glebe. The bike moved better now without the lump of Izac on the back, and they had a good time weaving through the back streets. Stallion liked Delith, okay. Like, she was more fun than Izac, at least, even if she could be a bit of a bossy bitch. If he didn’t find anyone that suited him, maybe he’d eat her. He, out of the whole group, knew the sweet taste of diablerie, and she said herself that her sire didn’t take an interest in her. Well, he’d see how the night went.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Eclipse wasn’t sure how the night was going when she stepped through the doors to the Crow bar. Behind her the Days of the week followed like lost ducklings, looking around as if nothing seemed to make much sense to them. Before her, an empty common, at least empty of her coterie, her supposed friends. She headed downstairs to the VIP lounge, and the Days of the Week followed mutely.
Her phone buzzed another message from Izac. She replied to it and shoved the phone back in her pocket. He’s on his way. Well good for him. What good is he now?
He’s worth more than ten of you, the new Luna voice replied.
“Shall we get drinks?” Tuesday asked, almost like asking permission…no,more like asking if this was how she’d do it.
“Sure,” she said, glad to see Delith missing from her space behind the bar. They all ordered and took seats together.
It was eerie. They sat there watching her as she watched the crowds in the lounge. Though all the Days of the Week didn’t look more than ten years her seniors, there were decades, maybe generations, separating her and them. They didn’t know how to behave, what to say or even what drinks to order. When Tuesday had said they wanted to see her world, they weren’t kidding. She sighed and drank her drink, realising she was having a night out with her aunts and uncles.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Dominic, spirit jar and large black tome gently held in the crook of his arm, knocked on his aunty’s door. The door creaked open under the light pressure, and he stepped in. In the lounge, Lucretia lay stretched out on a chez lounge in an empty room. After Rain redecorated the room, it always had a white minimalist look, but under his ownership, it was airy, light, and inviting, with colourful artwork breaking up the starkness of the bare floorboards and the white walls. Now, there was nothing but the lounge and Lucretia. It was clean…almost sterile, and lifeless. Like, all the soul had been stripped out of the room. Dominic, unphased, entered, preceded by the jar.
“Good evening, Aunty. I have a gift for you. My first solo effort.”
“So,” She said, examining the spirit trapped within, “How many times did it take until you got this one?”
“This was my first attempt. The second time I fumbled,” Dominic admitted, he was here to learn, and you never learnt anything by ignoring your mistakes.
“Hmm, summoned the wrong thing?” She asked, making an educated guess.
He nodded, “A spectre.”
An arch eyebrow rose in surprise, “Still, you must have sorted it out, or you wouldn’t be here.”
There was no point in saying he’s had a little help. Rain wasn’t here to complain, and there was no harm in her thinking he’d managed alone.
She placed the jar to one side of the lounge and returned her hands to her lap, “What do you want?”
“Would you like it as a gift?” Dominic asked, placing the promised book beside it.
“ I could use it. You’d let me have it?” She asked with not exactly suspicion, more disbelief.
“Well, you let me go into the afterlife without supervision. Most wouldn’t do that.”
“Ah, but you have more than a little luck, nephew. You’ve done better than most of your generation.”
“Warbonds. An industry in weapons of mass destruction,” He listed modestly, “And I still learning. I’m thinking of expanding my studies down the Ash path.”
“Hmm, so, care to join me for a stroll downstairs?” She stood in one sinuous movement that brought her closer to her nephew than was generally considered familial.
“I’d love to,” He said and followed her to the basement.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Izac phone buzzed. It was Luna. A rush of relief swept through him as he quickly sent off a reply.
She’s alive and safe. But it felt it had been close. Too close. He felt as if he’d dodged a bullet tonight and was damned sure that it wouldn’t happen again.
He got off at Jubilee Park and called a cab to take him back to the Crow bar and her.
Yes, he’d learnt his lesson. In horror movies, you make sure never to leave anyone behind.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Another carafe of red, a Glenfiddich special, as well as the aforementioned popper, I was loose and without care. In my carefree state, I did happen to reveal my predilection for a little blood with my drugs to Brendan.
“You’ve picked up a few new habits then?” He asked, curious, not judgemental.
“Ah, yeah, “ Snapping back almost to sobriety. I clung to my inebriation and slowly slipped back under the surface again.
“You were a little feisty earlier. What brought this about?”
I could have said I was in a drought, Brendan would have understood that. Say I would have settled for a good bear hug, a spooning session or a little heavy petting. Anything! No, that wasn’t true. Only the blood mattered now. Only vitae made me feel alive, only the beating of a living pulse in my mouth…but how could I say that? Instead, I tried to get close to the other things that filled my nights.
“I…don’t think I’ve had…fun in…weeks! Months! I was trying so hard to fit in, so hard to be right that I lost sight of what makes life worth living.”
Brendan sighed a genuine human sigh, “Ah, it’s like looking at me twenty-three years ago. A scared little teenage boy after his first adult experience. Trying to make sense of it all. Plunged into the wider world of adults that seemed scary and inviting all at the same time.”
I loved Brendan at that moment.
“And now here we are, the two of us on the brink of cutting loose with friends, and a good one at that. Say, what’s in the drink?” He looked at his latest glass of red, “It’s really nice.”
I tried not to think about what was in it and drank my own in agreement.
“So, what are you here to talk about?”
What was I here for again? Ghoul my best friend in the world. Check! Get away from Izac’s judgemental silence, and Luna’s sullen distrust, and Dominic’s, creeping darkness and Stallion’s…chaos…self-destruction? Just for one night. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
“Well, for one thing, nine days until your big reveal. Your is going to change.”
“Yeah, it’s unreal.”
“Exactly…exactly, and I knew there wasn’t a lot of time left,” Don’t get maudlin, we’re here to have fun, “I just wanted to touch base.”
Brendan rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry. If you want to have a shot at me before I become big, you don’t have to be sly about it.”
I smiled, revelling in the banter, “What before your all famous? Hey, I expect to have a shot at you after you’re famous!”
“Ah, but you’ll be able to say that you were in before everyone else gets a piece.”
“So, I knew you before the fame and the hype, huh?” I leaned in. The table was so supportive and stared into Brendan’s eyes.
“Yep. I’ll be a media darling.” Brendan’s eyes grew glassy, looking at futures I couldn’t see, “I’ll be everywhere. RuPaul will eat his heart out, and I’ll make him look like a bum. They’ll be talking about me! Worshipping, adoring. My stilettos walking on bare backs…it will be beautiful. The majesty of it. Can you see it, Rain?”
My elbow slipped out from under my resting head, and I tried to make sense of his harsh words. He didn’t mean that. He admired RuPaul. Frankly who didn’t?
“I see you,” I said with all the frankness and honesty I had in me, “I see you. I want to see a world full of your colour. “
“What an idea. I”ll have to spend a couple of days working with the crew on that. All the colours.”
Now we were back in sync again, “All the colours.”
“I can feel them after a wash. You know, after a good bath house? After the steam, walking out light-headed….”
“A bathhouse. We should go to a bathhouse, “ I fumbled with my phone. Surely there was a late-night spa or Turkish baths or…
“There are a few around…” Brendan replied, more reticent on the idea than I was, “We could find a small place maybe…get a room…just the two of us…I didn’t realise how far you wanted to take this tonight. You’ve seen my show. Are intending to give me one of your own? My goodness, won’t you even buy a lady a meal?”
Food. Oh god, I hadn’t thought about that. After the experiment with the steak on the first night, I was loathed to even attempt one of Izac’s vegetarian meals.
“Are you hungry? We haven’t mentioned food. For my part, I’m not hungry. Frankly, I’m just excited to be out and breathing fresh air …”
“See that’s what I thought when I was twenty-one and finally accepted who I really was. It’s a great feeling, isn’t it.”
Brendan’s words cut to the heart of things once again, “Yeah, I think something like that happened only…this week.”
“Well, don’t worry we’re going to have a few happenings tonight with the poppers and the bathhouse. We can get as raw and dirty as you like, and afterwards, the cleansing steam and water will make us shine.”
“Bring it on!” I cheered, rolling back into my seat again.
“Calm yourself, ladies and gentlemen…we have a long night ahead of us.”
“Ah yes, we need the tease…before the prestige!” I flourished, magicing my silver dollar to appear.
10.30pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The dirt bike carrying Stallion and Delith rolled up to The Kauri Foreshore Hotel. Stallion looked around nervously.
“Just park it somewhere. Nothing’s going to happen to it here,” Duluth said, reading his mood.
“It doesn’t have the plates on. I’m worried someone’s gonna steal it.” He said his middle-class concerns showing.
“Glebe is not the Glebe of old. It’s elegant and refined – sensible. Your bike will be safe.”
“Yeah, okay,” Stallion grumbled and found a place behind a skip that he felt relatively good about.
“Okay, so we’ll go inside and find someone,” Delith suggested, taking Stallion’s arm and leading him side the pub.
“What, you want to share?”
“No, silly. I have…particular tastes. Look, you’ll see, “She smiled, “Just you go find someone you like, and I’ll find someone like and we’ll meet up?”
Stallion shrugged. He was willing to play along with this game for a little while, but if he didn’t find someone, then he knew where he was getting a feed from tonight.
***************************************************************************************
Eclipses thoughts:
Symbols and Feelings
That is the funny thing about fate.
It is destined to happen.
The femur slipped from her grasp. The thunk it made against the ground was the crash of bone and slap of dry skin.
She drank every last drop of salvation.
Drank
It
Dry
She fought the need to take a voluntary breath. The buzzing behind her eyes spikes painful as she registers the vampiric normalcy of the pit she stands in.
You could have some fucking decorum.
Ah. That voice never shuts up, does she?
This is just great!
Eclipse caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of spattered blood.
Tarnished and filthy. Now look at you, a shadow.
Her boots leech up vitae and kick up loose body parts. This hole of despair does not bother her as she climbs up to its lip.
You are always just an afterthought of me.
No, Luna. It was something you could never understand.
You weren’t running away from yourself.
You were running from me.
Eclipse felt the weight of a robe grace her shoulders. A familiarity burned deep from her bones. Originating from her locked away memories.
Religion is all the same. It is simply easier to call the different “barbaric” and the old “pagan” or “archaic” to usher in something new. Something more “refined”, more “acceptable”.
The days of the week stood in an incomplete circle. The last day. The day of God. The day of holiness is her new name.
Good. They prophesied their own fate. To name is to give power.
Sunday is another name to her collection.
Supplicant. It is an old name made new to her once more.
They are all the same. Strings pulled beyond all of their perceptions. All ultimately out of their control.
Have they seen what we have seen?
They fight knowing even with eternity, they may still fail because all of the world is doomed. They must accept the inevitable. The eclipse is where the plains align. She will have to show them.
You’ll fail.
Thursday’s sacrifice was interesting. The whole ordeal intrigued her. The way medicine once did. The choices, pathways, active sites collided to make the impossible probable. A black opal dagger would be a rite of passage. A pilgrimage to show her resolution.
This incomplete week interests her. They are interested in her. New and exciting to each other but how long will this facade last until her three worlds collide?
Eclipse checked her phone while heading to the Crowbar.
‘New Message: Izac’.
Leave him out of this.
We are all doomed.
Not him. You can’t hurt him. I won’t let you.
Eclipse sighed as another spike of pain bashed against the back of her temple.
Destroy the world. Destroy me. Take everything but you can’t have him. You have to leave him alone.
Why?
You know why.
Humanity.
Base urges.
How fucking annoying Beasts are.
***********************************************************
Izac’s Scrawlings:
Regulars
“They are just the regulars”
I was doubtful of that, even as we passed through the door of the pub. Alex was first to make it to the bar, almost racing to be the first in ever expanding mass of people crowding for a drink. Australia Day, always busy, but a day off was a day off and we certainly weren’t going to complain. Others were meant to join us that day, but trouble would find us first.
The glaring eyes of the probably already drunk group of patrons out the front had already had my hackles up. Given my choice, thinking back, we wouldn’t have made it through those doors if the others hadn’t dragged me through them by their combined mass. Something about them; they way they looked down on us, like they were better. Their fancy getups reeked of North shore. In experience, Campbeltown was not the place for dress shirts and expensive watches.
Cameron pushed me and the crowd gave way to a table which we decided to make our home for the afternoon, or at least until we weren’t welcome. It was good, a time with friends. A better time.
A normal life.
Day turned to night; the fireworks came out. I remember seeing Mads and Alex together, they couldn’t have been happier holding each other like that. I think, at that point, they were meant to be. Cameron, ever the man to annihilate a beautiful moment, crashed into them but they took it in stride.
They were happy.
A commotion near the bar pulled me out of my drunken haze. Joel, screaming about something. The newfound adrenaline kicked my flight or fight. Back then, there was only one answer for me. I charged through the encircled mass of onlookers to find Joel in some sort of argument with, to my joy, the well-dressed group of weasels from earlier. He had spilled a drink, adding a nice stain of colour to the pristine white dress shirt. I wanted to add some colour of my own. I don’t recall thinking; I threw myself into the shit and everything was flash images and instinct from then till I was outside the front of the pub.
The once blue sky now black, starless was all I was looking at.
Joel was there too, the others either ejected or left of their own volition. Looking back inside there I could see at least two of the others clutching noses or ribs. We gave as good as we got at least. What stung were the eyes. The eyes of the patrons at my state, the disapproval.
Madaline’s hurt the most.
Last I recall was a question answered by someone on the balcony watching down:
“Just the regulars”
It’s happening again, isn’t it?
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonymns for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
A Strange Life 