Big city

CHAPTER I

It was a very big city. So big that you could get lost in it. Vanish, die, build a homemade cyborg and no one would ever notice. Except for those who watched, of course. But someone always does, don't they? The city had no name, it had a code. It was M106. Big cities didn't have names. Codes were easier to distinguish. Names had... personalities. Cities as big as M106 didn't have time for personality.

Young man who walked down a rather empty lane had a name, though he also had a code. His name was Logan Chase. His code was M55578769M. First M stood for M106, the city where he had been born. The last M stood for Male. He didn't know what the numbers meant. He didn't like numbers. He liked roses and he loved Jerome. Jerome Carson was his boyfriend. Bouquet of red roses Logan carried around were for him. They were wrapped into dashing white paper. It looked very nice and romantic. Just like in a movie.

He had an appointment with Jerome and a booked table in a fancy restaurant. It was their second anniversary. He loved Jerome. Not epically since he didn't know the meaning of the word, but he did love him. World was past homophobia a long time ago. There were other phobias now.
Vampires. Werewolves. Cyborgs.
The aristocrats and neo-Goths. The hippies. The government agents, cops and mercenaries.
In M106 you were either hunted, hunter or a number.
Logan Chase was a number. M55578769M. His number.

It began to rain. Logan cursed a bit and ran down a little alley. He would have to seek refuge or he would arrive soaking wet. He found a deserted house with an open doorway. There were many of those these days. Here today, torn down tomorrow. Panting, he covered and sighed in relief. If only it stopped soon he could still make it to the restaurant and Jerome.

It was a happy sigh. And then a deep flawless voice behind him said: “Good evening.”
Logan jerked and turned to see who had accosted him thus.
There was darkness and soft black robes, a pair of piercing blue eyes and long blond hair framing a noble pale face.
“A vampire!” Logan cried out and made to run. A hand stopped him and pulled him over and against cold hard flesh. “That is correct. A vampire. I am Enoch and Master of the Old House.”
“Aristocrat,” Logan muttered. “Please, let me go... Sir?”
The vampire gazed at him rather intently, measuring him in the dark, holding him still with but one hand and running the other over his body. Logan shivered, unable to free himself and with those deep blue eyes watching him his will escaped his body. He remained.
“You are...pretty,” the vampire said finally. “You shall do. What is your name, little mortal?”
“Lo...Logan. Logan Chase. Code M55578769M.”
“Logan will do,” came a sharp response. “I detest...numbers.” Pale lips curved to bare a set of alabaster white teeth. “Tell me, Logan – have you ever been betrayed by the one you loved?”
Logan was a way too stunned to even think of responding.
“No? I thought so. You are too young, you stink of innocence. Have you a lover? Yes, you do. Those roses you still cling to are for her, aren't they? Or is it a he? Best it be. Because you shall serve a purpose, Logan.”
Logan shuddered in response.
“Don't,” Enoch ordered. “Listen to me, little mortal. I have a wife. Her name is Grace and she is beautiful. She is also a treacherous little snake whom I found in bed with some peasant. And I swore to have vengeance on her. I swore I would go out and find the first good looking lad. I would turn such lad and make him my lover to get even with my beautiful Grace. Now I have found you, Logan Chase, and I shall chase no further. You shall return with me to my House and I shall turn you and bed you.”
Logan's mouth fell open. His eyes turned moist and they were huge.
“You... I... Please! Please no! PLEASE NO!”
Enoch's eyes were reproachful. “Don't scream, little mortal. Else I will silence you and still take you along. It is best you come freely. There are no mercenaries here, no cyborg cops, and no one else dares to approach me. Even your government agents shun from me.
I gave you a choice – maintain your own free will or abandon it.
It is up to you, Logan.”
Play it along, Logan, a voice whispered. Play along. As long as you live you have a chance to escape, chance to come back to Jerome and your life.
Life, unlife – as long as you have your sanity, your will, you can do it.
Enoch nodded with a hint of smile.
“Wise choice, Logan. And now I shall have a little snack, if you don't mind.” It wasn't a question and only when Enoch unbuttoned his shirt and cool lips touched his tender neck did he realize that he was that above mentioned snack. Sharp teeth penetrated his skin and he cried out softly, holding unto Enoch to not fall. Silky hair touched his face and there was more pain. He was rigid and closed his eyes.
A dream, a dream, a dream, yes, this must be a dream, this isn't happening to me, not to me!
But it was and it was his blood which flew into Enoch and became his unlife.

**

“Screw you, sucker!” Xavier Ford cursed loudly when the door of his cell slammed shut. Screw everybody, screw you, world! He wasn't supposed to be caught like this. Not he. Not Xavier. He was the best mercenary out there. Gang leader. Xavier the Invincible. He'd offed dozens of these suckers and even some cyborgs. He was not supposed to rot here in this fuckin' cell and wait for his doom. He knew they'd kill him. Or maybe try and turn him to make him one of their own. He'd NEVER become one of them. Never. They were... not human. They were pests. Suckers. Damn walking talking dead and bloody arrogant at it, too. Especially the Old House gang. Freshmen were different, though he really didn't care and killed them, too. But they weren't as arrogant. But these here, aristocrats, as they thought they were, with their flowing robes and capes. Damn right out of some cheap B-class movie of old.
Some bloke had hit him on the head and then they'd just bagged him like some ripe apple or carrot. No chance to fight back or else he would have offed a good dozen. Xavier knew what he was capable of.
And now they were coming back. One was the guard dude, Toby something. He knew the other one, too, the tall one they called Maximilian. He'd fought him once, but the sucker got away. Both had scars from the meeting, though. At least Xavier did, because he didn't heal as rapidly as those suckers. Actually he'd been offered by the government that they could turn him into a cyborg. He'd sent them a polite mail and told them just where they could chuck such idea. But he could guess that they were still lingering around that thought. It was the way of the government to be uptight stubborn and mostly – damn stupid.
By Maximilian's side stood one in white coat – my my, what is this, a new fashion, weren't you guys supposed to wear black only. But that one was rather short, slender, with long dark copper hair straight down his shoulders. Keen gray eyes. Lively.
“Hello there,” the new vampire spoke as he gazed intently at Xavier. “I am Emmanuel. You are Xavier Ford, vampire hunter, leader of the mercenary gang.”
Xavier smirked.
“I know bloody well who I am. Cut the crap. What do you want of me?”
“Certainly not to kill you, unless I really have to – unless you really make me,” came a smooth reply. “I wish to talk to you, mister Ford. Toby, Maximilian, will you leave us, kindly?”
Toby left as ordered. Maximilian hesitated, though.
“You are aware he is the most dangerous man in town, Emmanuel?”
The smaller vampire laughed.
“Very much so and counting on it. Go. Give me the keys and go. I can take care of myself, thank you very much, Maximilian.”
“You...are mad, Emmanuel. You intend to go INSIDE?”
Emmanuel nodded.
“I do so. Now, give me those damn keys and go. Go! I command you, Maximilian. And if I find you going around complaining just how mad I am I'll cut your bloody throat and burn you like a rag doll. Be a good boy, and I'll love you as ever.”
Maximilian sighed, gave over the keys as ordered and left, shaking his head. Emmanuel was crazy. And as many madmen through history, he was also a bloody genius.
Once his lover was gone, Emmanuel chuckled and gazed at Xavier again, teasing bars with the key. Old fashioned, aye. Why not. Big locks and heavy keys were sometimes much more efficient than topnotch remote controls and such. You could almost always count on heavy steel.
“Now, tell me, mister Ford, what will you do if I step inside to have a little chat?”
“Grab you and fuck your brains out,” Xavier grunted.
Emmanuel laughed lightly. “I don't think I would mind. You look like you'd be a total animal in bed. I love that. But seriously? I have an offer to you, and I do not feel like yelling all over the corridor. May I come in?”
Xavier growled. “Come in then. Stop the damn babbling, you're making my ears bleed. Not as if you didn't remove all my weaponry. What do you think I'll do – bite your head off and ignite you with my fart?”
Emmanuel chuckled. “I already like you, mister Ford. Now, please back away from the door. Thank you.”
Xavier witnessed the door being opened and closed again. How easy it would have been to slam into the vampire and wrench the key off his hands. But then what? A bloody dungeon full of armed bloodsuckers and absolutely no idea where to go. Since this place was a fuckin' labyrinth. Besides he found himself curious of what this little vamp had to say to him. Of course he knew who Emmanuel was. You couldn't possibly live around M106 and not know of Emmanuel, the Second to the Master of the Old House. The mad scientist. The genius. Biology, genetics, synthesizing, cyborgs. Yes, cyborgs. Xavier had got enough hints from the Freshmen and even some sloppy mouthed aristocrats, that Emmanuel was working on building vampire cyborgs. Many said he was more dangerous than Enoch. And about as dangerous as Grace.

Xavier peered at Emmanuel now that the vampire was standing in front of him. Sneaky, lithe, pretty attractive – for a bloodsucker, of course. And not as if Xavier would ever be eying vamps in such fashion. Of course there were humans who hung around with vampires but he always thought that government really should charge them for necrophilia. Besides, he was taken. He had Shawn. Who was most likely pissed like hell and out for bloody vengeance upon these aristocrats.
Bloody walking talking corpses.

“So – you're gonna hang around here or tell me what the fuck you want,” he demanded.
Emmanuel sighed. “I see you are a straightforward man, mister Ford. And one with eloquent vocabulary. Very well then.
I wish to hire you, mister Ford.”
Xavier laughed out loud.
“Ha! Well, if you'd like to commit euthanasia, I am more than willing to assist. Just get me my gear back and we'll settle it...”
“No, mister Ford. I am very keen on my life. However, I do need to “off” someone, as you would put it. And luck brought you to my door. You only need to accept and this door shall open for you, I shall return your equipment and also pay you handsomely.”
Xavier rolled his eyes.
“Bloody hell. So, MISTER Emmanuel, whom do you wish to see dead so badly that you're willing to risk with your own black dead heart?”
“Will you take the job?”
“Will you give me the name?”
“Mister Ford...!”
“Name, sir. Name or we have no deal.”
Xavier watched the vampire hesitate for a few seconds and then step even closer to him. If he'd been alive, his hot breath would have assuredly brushed Xavier's neck.
“Enoch.”
Xavier took half a step back. And then he laughed.
“You are mad. They say you are, and indeed you are. Mad and bloody stupid if you think I'd take such job. Government already tried to talk me into it and I refused. Told them they can screw themselves. You think I'd honestly do it and have every last bloodsucker after me? Start such a pesty riot? Hell no. No, mister Emmanuel. My answer is no.”
The vampire was certainly taken aback and he bared his teeth viciously. Xavier didn't care much. He'd had enough of these suckers glaring and hissing at him. Mostly just moments before their death.
“I would ask you to reconsider,” Emmanuel said finally, his voice very tempered and cold.
Xavier shook his head. “I'd ask you to drop the idea and get out of my cell. No decent mercenary will take this job, sir. Maybe some ragged cyborg, but no hunter with wits would take it. Unless you have a fortune to pay them. Do you have a fortune, sir?
Not that I care. I won't do it. You can kill me here but I won't end my life doing something so outrageously stupid. I LIKE Enoch at his position. He makes a good leader to you, suckers. I much prefer to have him around and on top than some lunatic such as yourself, MISTER Emmanuel. Vampire cyborgs, indeed...”

Emmanuel nodded coolly.
“You have made your point, mister Ford. I apologize for the bother. I shall take my leave now.”
“Oh please do. And take it really far.”
The vampire exited the cell and locked the door. Then he smiled and pushed a tiny button on the wall. It was Maximilian who came within thirty seconds.
“Maximilian. Gas him. I want him asleep. Now.”
Maximilian nodded and left.
Within a minute there was a hiss around Xavier and colorless gas began to fill the air, eating it up hungrily. Xavier roared.
“Good night, mister Ford,” Emmanuel said, standing in front of the cell and smiling. Of course the sleep gas had no effect on him. “Once you wake I will have turned you into one of our kind. You shall be the creature you detest most. You really should have taken that job. But alas – I wish you good night and sweet dreams, mister Ford!”
Xavier recalled running to the bars, laughter echoing in his head, all around him. Then there was a cloud of mist and he fell deeper and deeper until he made it to the bottom with a low thump. Xavier Ford fell asleep.