The Link (pt. 1)
© 2002 KamiKaze
David had shown up much too early for their date, and that had nearly killed him. Unbeknownst to him, Iolanthe hadn’t even been home when the eager (and still somewhat nervous) young vampire had arrived, and that had pretty much saved her life. She never got to fully appreciate the nasty surprise that was all set and ready to greet her when she walked through the door of her new apartment. And if David had simply gone back down and waited for her outside, he wouldn’t have, either. But this was not the case. He had a key and decided, what the hell, why not use it?
One good reason lay just on the other side of that door. Reasons two and three were in the bedroom, and sprawled along the dividing line between the living room and the kitchen, respectively. They raised their heads and pricked their ears when they heard the key in the lock. The one halfway in and halfway out of the living room whined very softly in anticipation.
David heard the rattle of chains as the door swung open. He winced at the strange odor in the air. It smelled of wet dog, of rotting flesh, of something even worse. He shivered. That peculiar scent, that sound, it seemed so familiar somehow, but he couldn’t quite place it. He shrugged it off.
“Io?” he called, “It’s me! Sorry I’m so early…” and his voice died in his throat, when David saw something that he would have described as some sort of huge demonic dog, standing there, looking at him. The immense beast rose up and stood on its hind legs, towering above him, its head brushing the ceiling. The chains draped around its body rattled softly. The creature peeled back its lips and greeted David with a blood-chilling snarl. And too late, David remembered where’d he last known that scent.
“Kludde…” he whispered. “But why now? —“ And then the awful thought hit him. “Io? —Iolanthe!!” he shouted. No response. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t here, that this monster hadn’t…
The vampire bared his fangs and clenched his fists, as the kludde roared and charged with supernatural speed. David’s quick reflexes saved his life. The second, smaller kludde, hidden behind the door, leaped up and struck as he passed. David was immediately aware of it, and he leaped to the side, drew up his wings, hit the ground, rolled, and scrambled back up to his feet again. “Shit!” he hissed. Both monsters turned and faced him. David quickly scanned the apartment. He needed a weapon, and he needed one now.
Still on their hind legs, the monstrous canines attacked again. David flung himself across the room, back to the kitchen, fumbled open a drawer, (Oh please, please, please, let this be the right one!) and pulled out a fairly good-sized carving knife (Yes!). Backed against the cabinets, he brandished his weapon at the kludde nearest him. The creature backed up, a growl bubbling low in its throat.
“Okay, boys—I’ve had a moment to come to my senses—and wouldn’t you know it, I’ve just realized that I can’t possibly fight you and win. If Io was here, she’s dead already. I don’t think she is, I think there’d be at least a few signs of struggle…a couple of feathers, something…. So, all things being equal, I’d like to get the hell out of here so I can go find her. Preferably all in one piece.”
Neither monster seemed terribly impressed with David’s reasoning skills. The larger of the two started to drool.
“Ah, well, um…nice doggies…” David tried easing himself along the cabinets toward the door. The smaller kludde lunged at him, and was rewarded with a slash to the nose. It let out a little yelp and retreated, snarling in frustration. “Stay….” David said warningly. He continued easing himself along, back to the cabinets, worked his way around the kitchen, talking all the while. “You know, you wouldn’t like me at all—I’m much too skinny. All bones, that’s me…and as soon as I get out of here, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna tell my brother all about how someone’s still trying to kill me, and oh, boy, is the shit gonna hit the fan then.” He was really making progress, when the gigantic hounds raised their heads and looked towards the door, growling. David felt an icy hand clench his gut. Iolanthe was home.
The little pastel succubus was humming a tune, wearing a pretty white sundress sprinkled with violet flower buds, and carrying the bottle of wine for their date that she’d forgotten, and had to go back to pick up. She paused, frowning, when she saw that her door was ajar. Then she heard David’s panicked cry.
“Iolanthe--Don’t Come In!! RUN!!!”
Iolanthe was no fool; she bolted like a rabbit and ran like hell. The apartment door slammed shut behind her, and from within, dimly, she heard out-raged roaring, and the clash of chains...
* * * * *
Markkastanen Sartain looked up from his work, and frowned. Something was horribly wrong. Nothing he could put his finger on…just something. It nagged. He sat staring into space for a while, as he looked though the eyes of the various cats that were freely roaming the halls, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Most of his employees were off today; the building was dark and quiet.
I know exactly what’s wrong, he mused. I’m here doing incredibly tedious paperwork on a Sunday afternoon. Why did I give my little brother the weekend off? It was a wasted gift—highly unlikely he would do anything at all interesting…probably hadn’t even gotten around to nailing that pretty little succubus that he’s all lovesick over. Speaking of pretty feathered sex-toys… the drakthos glanced at the phone and sighed. It wouldn’t do to try calling Aerael again. If the incubus was going to be childish and sulk over a little harmless joke, then fine. Mark Sartain did not beg. A pity, though, he’d never had such an enjoyable bed partner. Scowling, he leaned back, crossed his arms behind his head, and regarded the ceiling. What was it that was troubling him so? He reached into his right-hand top drawer, and pulled out a black velvet sack bound with a red satin cord. He opened it, and a perfectly round, blood red ruby the size of his fist dropped into his palm. He would see what visions this precious stone offered. Perhaps that would shed some light on his growing unease.
The phone on his desk rang. Filled with a sudden sense of dread, Mark hesitated before picking it up. “Mark Sartain. ….Iolanthe? What? —Slow down, girl, I don’t…what!?…Stay there and don’t move—I’m coming.”
* * * * *
David stood with his back jammed up against the front door. He knew he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of walking away from this…but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is keeping any of the kludde from following Iolanthe. And here I was thinking that they had been sent after me. He could almost laugh at the irony of it all. Almost.
“So…since I’m not really supposed to be the main course of this little get together of ours, maybe we could all just be friends?”
The kludde had other ideas. Dropping to all fours, the smaller hound leaped for him. David caught him with the talon of one out-flung wing, and slammed him to the floor, a great bleeding gash crossing its chest. The larger one closed in, and David went for its eyes. The one on the floor clamped its massive jaws around his leg, something went crunch, and David gasped and slashed at it with the kitchen knife, it let go, and the larger one delivered a smashing blow with its hand/paw that sent him flying across the room.
Stunned, he shook his head, trying to get back his sense of equilibrium and collect himself—-but there wasn’t time. He kicked one of the kludde in the nose as hard as he could; then he barely managed to scramble up and out of reach of the other’s snapping jaws. Now that they were so hot for his blood, they seemed to have forgotten about Iolanthe. Maybe now he could try to make his own escape. No way I’m making it to the front door, they’re too close. But the bedroom had sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony…Maybe, if I can move quickly enough…
But the larger of the two beasts had had enough of playing with the annoying little bloodsucker, and gave a charge that was obviously designed to finish him off. David tried to dodge him, and felt a fiery stab of pain from his injured leg, which promptly gave out on him. David fell to the floor. The kludde uttered a guttural roar of triumph as it hurled itself on him…promptly followed by a howl of pain. David had buried the kitchen knife up to the handle in its chest, and had started twisting and tugging on it. The handle snapped off in his hand. “Fuck!” he yelled, and the beast’s head came around, with snapping jaws, and teeth as long as one of his pinky fingers. Dropping the knife handle, he grabbed the monster’s head with both hands, and tried to push away the deadly jaws. The beast twisted its head to one side to break free, baring its neck, and filled with sudden desperation, David quickly bared his fangs, plunged them in the hound’s neck, and completely ripped out its jugular. The hound gave an ear-splitting cry, and a long, horrible gurgle.
David’s nostrils were filled with the kludde’s rank odor, his mouth with its foul-tasting blood. He pushed the dying beast away, rose to his feet--and was sent reeling into the wall by the smaller one’s charge. He struggled against it, holding his wing up as a shield, and half-ran, half-hopped backwards toward the bedroom. He made it to the doorway, and gathered his remaining strength.
The smaller kludde leaped, grabbed the top edge of his wing, started forcing it down as he climbed over it. David swung his wing with all of his might. Kludde and wing smashed against the doorjamb with a resounding crack. David choked back a scream as he felt one of the bones of his wing break. The small kludde slumped to the ground with a whimper. What the hell does it take to kill these things? He stepped back all the way into the bedroom, and slammed the door.
The smaller kludde recovered, howled in rage, scratched at the door, then started trying to batter it down. The doorjamb was cracked and dented; the entire doorframe would probably give out in a minute. David shuddered. He had to get out of here. He shook his head, tried to clear his mind again, but it only served to make him even dizzier. What a mess. He was alive though, all the same…and that was something to brag about. Preferably to Iolanthe. Over several glasses of wine. In a bed with silk sheets.
David limped toward the sliding glass door---and went flying through the air. He struck the floor hard, landing on his already injured wing, and he screamed, scrambled backwards until he hit the wall, then, grimacing, he pushed himself up to standing position against it. He was hurting badly, almost helpless, and damn his luck, another one of those things was in here with him. He heard the jingling of its chains, heard its deep rumbling growl, smelled its rank wet odor as it came slinking up out of the dark. This thing was bigger than both of the other kludde put together. David groaned softly. It looks like I’m going to die a virgin after all.
To Be Continued...