A Hardy Hello
by Steven Weir

This is the big city. The fabric of reality and dreams are stitched together. And somewhere in the pounding heart of this mixing of metal and flesh... leather and latex, the nocturnal tailors make the decisions that will affect all that wander in the canyons and alleys. Multimillion dollar deals are made in fancy restaurants, dungeons and high priced whorehouses, while gutter folk rage against their own suffering, yet over time learn to embrace it cause they have nothing else. The movie stars shine brightly here thanks to movie moguls. And no one honestly cares if one or two people go missing. This place is sin for the senses and the physical. And once you took that first look... your first lick of this delicious lollipop, you were hooked.

Monday night at 'Vampiricus'. A place for the family and the kids. As long as your family was into black velvet men and caped Victorian-like ladies. But no worries. Should the kids not be into the old ways... ...plastic fetish freaks and leather daddies were welcome too. This was the meeting ground for the morbid. Those who fancied themselves as students and teachers of death but never really took that final plunge... cowards. It was a devil's toy box. 'Christian Death', 'Corpus Delecti', 'Cradle of Filth', 'Switchblade Symphony', 'Siouxsie' and 'Sisters of Mercy' were some of the sounds spun in these walls. The tunes young folks slit their wrists to. The sound they moved to like reanimated corpses. The words they would grind their sweaty, fouled bodies to later on between black sheets. So much the wonderful... and blindingly beautiful the rhythm. Samuel Khole... a modern day Faustus. He spoke to incubi and succubi... beasts and men. It wasn't enough...but curiosity kept him here. The changing ages and faces kept him entertained. And crimson glory kept him full and his beast sated.

Black light, candles burning bright and stuck into candelabras, incense placed into glass skulls lined dimly lit chambers and hallways. And all around were the crosses. Oh those wonderful creations of the drunk, misunderstood and jaded masses. For you see... Monday at 'Vampiricus' was 'sorrow cross' night. All who came to its doors with a cross of their own creation gained free entrance. The owner personally at the door to turn away those designs he wasn't fond of. There was a place to hang your creations. Because for free entry, your cross became their property. And they were lovingly placed along the halls and in rooms for all to witness, admire, and worship. Some at a tilt, some upside down. Some having dead flowers added to them to express sorrow and loss. Some mocking the Christ child by placing his image onto it in some bizarre way. A sure sign of blasphemy but still hung up.

The speakers uttered words of belonging and peace. The song 'Invitation' by 'Switchblade Symphony' was brought to an abrupt end. The masses confused and brought out of their cozy, dreamlike trances scrambled with questioning eyes as to why they were so cruelly yanked from their imagined reality. And as if in answer, a subtle purple light soon shown on the main stage. For you see... Monday at
'Vampiricus' were the nights new bands were brought from the basements and garages to play...had they the courage. One such band stepped up to play. As to if they would play on other stages after this eve was up to the gods and the fates. 'Blood Bond' Not the best name... but a name nevertheless. Besides... isn't it we who make the name? Or does the name make us? No matter...

The five stood brave against the mass. And dared to answer the questioning eyes that lovingly raped their forms as much as the soft purple light would allow. Pale skin turned lavender soon took a step sideways as an ear splitting scream was given to the microphone stand the lead man straddled. His latex clad thighs closed tight around it for the duration of the scream. Since was simply to get the attention he wanted. There was silence afterwards, a faint electronic pulse carried through and laid upon the silence like a sheet. His voice was soft and full of mourning as he spoke. At least at first...

I stand, all alone with this steel in my hand...
Looking down at the carnage that I've wrought.
My senses going mad as the realization hits me...
I see all the pain that I've brought.
F***
This pain, this place
Not once did you lift a hand to clear the bastard out your face.
Now you're standing there, judge me
Saying what I did was wrong.
I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!

Was there a seed planted? Was that one brave individual who separated herself from the mass, starting a sultry sway to the words? Why it was. Her slender hand followed by a delightfully bare wrist rose from the crowd. But soon the individual was no longer one. Other hands lifted into the air, a dull energy soon building to become a fevered prime. He had to fuel it...this exchange of raw energy that built in silence excited the man and mind behind the mic. The mixing of guitar, bass, violin and drums came together with perfect ease. They had worked on their craft for some time. This would be the moment they showed it all. And it seems the crowd was becoming caught up in the melee of music and song of pain and retribution.

Damn, you were my fuel as I heard him beat you nightly...
Yet you'd come to my bed, lay right down and cry.
A night of passion, unbridled. A nighttime spent in my arms
And in morning's light you'd always say goodbye.
F***
His soul, his life
What business did he have to beat down such a loving wife?
But now you seem shocked
By all the s**t that I have done
I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!

It was for sure he was pleased as he sang. His eyes loving the sway of the crowd. Their movements enough to sway the coldest heart as they searched within themselves to find that special, secret place. Glitter painted over the faces and exposed skin of some. Raven wing black, the color of hair and clothing from others. The painted vampires were his vampires. So eager and the more erotic of the swelling mass. The mic pressed to his lips as he vented his woe. He gave what could be a smile and pointed towards one of the gothic vampires.

'I see you... my childe'
She smiled to reveal her own set of fangs. A pair she bought for the evening. She shivered softly, not from his acknowledgment of her. But from the wave of tender touches she received from the people around her. As if she were a goddess and by touching her could earn a person immortality. The lead man's eyes searched the crowd again to find another with pale features and a more realistic pair of fangs than the last. And very softly he laughed as the music spun a spell around them. He extended a hand to the first one with the pale face he saw. Pointing a finger her way.

'Come to me... be one with your brother in darkness.'
The tiniest glance was given back to the others in the band. And although they continued to play without missing a mark, their faces and eyes asked questions and issued warnings. Still...he beckoned to her. The crowd parting for her as she came towards the stage. Her steps drawn out and measured. She came with reverence to the stage and took hold of the cold, white hand offered her to help her up. He pulled her close as the music played on without his words. And he abandoned the mic stand to wrap the young woman in his arms. A waltz with the fine Victorian lass began. Her shapely form clad in velvet, her hair a light burgundy... hanging softly about her shoulders. Molded tight to a latex man. The only exposed parts of flesh, his arms up to the shoulder. But everything was lavender in the light on stage. The crowd watching their every moment as they moved like flowing mercury across the stage.

The eyes of the other members of 'Blood Bond' watching as well, but not for the same reason others did.

The next few moments were excruciatingly slow. Filled with fire and a passion that threaten to spring forth and lay waste to those who witnessed it. His beast called to him, demanding sacrifice since he dared to wake it. But there in lay the excitement. He spun her once... twice... three times and pulled her to him.
'Sleep... '

His only word to her, he peered down into star filled eyes and repeated his command. Her form leaning against his as she drifted. He supported her weight easily, lifting her and taking her to the edge of the stage where he gently handed her to the mass. They took her and she rode their hands as they passed her back further back into the darkness. And into the hands of security who would take care of the woman who seemed to have fainted. His latex form returned to the microphone in time to complete his message. To show piece of himself to them and divide it up into parts the masses could take with them.

A lifted hand, a flash of light. I see you falling down...
The bullet driven to your brain, and crimson spreading all around.
I hear the sirens, see the lights. I know there's no escape
I lift the gun and fire again. And I know I've sealed my fate.
F***
Your shame, my pride
If you would have stayed with me, no one would have died
I feel the bullets pierce me
And no regrets do I have.
Remember...
I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!
I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!
I did it all for you...
I did it all for you...

The song winding down, Samuel stared ahead into the one face that didn't seem under his spell. Into the eyes of the only one who did not applaud as silence fell and the band stopped. The light's gentle glow turned off and they were left to candles and strobe light again. Still he held the eyes of the one who was not taken. And the one he stared at looked right back.

'Pack us up. And make sure the fat bastard who owns this place pays us.'

The words spoken without turning around to the others of the band. He never blinked, even though his eyeballs begged for moisture when the smoke machine kicked in, spreading its fine mist around. The owner would pay them... more than they agreed to in fact. He had never seen a band draw such a reaction for a crowd their first time at the club. A twisted smile came to Samuel and it was returned. The night looked good. And Samuel had company... hopefully bringing good news and his own special brand of crimson glory.

He was a slender man, young... or at least it was what the outward appearances would display. The age of his mortal form could be guessed at thirty-three maximum. But an old soul dwelled in that latex clad form. He navigated through the crowd, touching the hands of people who extended their own. Smiling with extreme pride as he was coated with compliments. Yes... the feel of an appreciative crowd quickened the soul. Their affections turned towards him make him almost wish he could taste them all, ushering them into the intimate and personal nirvana the kiss gave humans who were lucky enough to feel it. But the impulse was damped down, though his beast would have to be satisfied before evening's end. No matter the will...a vampire could never ignore the call forever. But matters such as personal pleasure took a back seat to the man and matter at hand. His arms wide, he uttered heart felt greetings to his guest. Sporting a grin that would make even The Cheshire Cat of 'Alice in Wonderland' fame take notice.

'Mercutio... Mercutio! My dear f***ing Mercutio!
'Happy Birthday to you! You ageless f***!'

Hair dyed the color of precious metal hung down as the one labeled 'Mercutio' put his head forward. The roll of blue orbs followed the drop of his head. Mercutio was not the name he had been born with. But for some reason beyond his understanding, Samuel took to calling that the moment he cemented his friendship with the rather odd man long ago. He never argued or at least gave up on debate when he saw it wouldn't change. Eyes rolled back to turn to Samuel. And a honey dipped voice sounded out to grace Samuel's ears. Although it could hardly be heard above the music.

'You ache for someone to divorce your head from your shoulders, don't you?'
The swipe of a delicate, but very pale hand removed treated hair from the face of Mercutio. The hand traced with purple veins which were noticed rather quickly and covered with a leather glove soon after. The second hand now clad in leather; Mercutio felt the rustle of his platinum dyed locks. The move surprising at first, which is why a swift pull away was made.

'Sit down, Samuel. I would like to talk and be on my way. And watch your swearing.'
'Your mouth is as foul as ever.'
'You know how I detest that.'
The frown was pointed in Mercutio's direction as Samuel took his seat as told. The grin he wore before fading from sight for a time.

'And you... who would spend your birthday alone and locked away?'
'My goodness, No. As a friend I can simply not allow this.'
'You will come with me. And we will drink till dawn.'
'We will find virgins... and feast upon... '

A gloved hand shot straight to Samuel's mouth. Covering it and making him silent. There was a look of warning from Mercutio and then his eyes shifted from one corner to the next in search of those who may have been eavesdropping. It was only when he thought it secure did he remove the hand.
'Dammit!'
The tone containing harshness even though the word came soft.
'I did not come to this place to be overheard and murdered as I leave.'
'Discretion, Samuel. I pray one day Cain bless you with it.'
'You have a deathwish to speak so loud in this state.'

A soft laugh was put forth before the hand. Samuel's own hand lifted to smooth over dirty blonde hair. And when Mercutio's hand settled on the table they sat at, a gentle tapping started.

'As if you would let someone kill me. I know you never would.'
'For you and I are inseparable. And our friendship goes much deeper than your petty paranoia.'
Mercutio smiled, giving a gentle tap to the jaw across from him. One digit pointed straight at Samuel. The expression on Mercutio's face a playful one. But Samuel took in his words.
'You are correct. But I am rather fond of this life. I don't want to leave it yet.'
'Now... contain yourself long enough for me to tell you what I have to.'
'After all...it cost me a pair of my most trusted to get this small tidbit. For you.'

Mindless behavior was cast away. The sacrifice of ghouls... while not serious was noted. Mercutio hated to waste and was always saddened at the death of them. But only a tiny bit. A look of serious thought took to Samuel's features. His friend had gone through great lengths to secure what little information he had. Samuel would show him the proper respect one pays to a dear friend when they do so much for you. He hung forward to closely hear what would be said. The tones would only get softer from here on in. And with the music, it would be out of the hearing of even immortal ears.

'There are those like us here, my friend.'
'Those that claim to live the truly free life here.'
'And although their ranks are carefully guarded, perhaps we can find them.'

His words were vague as he continued to whisper. His advice and information trailed a long list. But they made more and more sense to the clouded mind as he went along. Possible allies or perhaps death waiting to be released. Samuel's mouth soon was placed to the bent ear of Mercutio. Warning given to him. He would be clear of Samuel for a time. And after much coaxing, Mercutio agreed with a nod. That gloved hand shot back out to tap the jaw once more. Although this time it was a might harder.

'You better still exist when next I track you down.'

Ah... the love of a blessed friend. Could candy be sweeter than that? Samuel thought someone would be hard-pushed to find something more precious. Although what Mercutio provided after the smack leveled even with the gift of a true friend. As he lifted to make exit and return to his home. That delicate, yet powerful hand slid the small silver cylinder across to Samuel. He blinked, wondering what he was presented with. And he looked up to his dear friend. The mouthing of the words. 'Crimson glory' had Samuel's hands upon it quickly. His eyes still set. 'Your special brew?' mouthed back to which Mercutio nodded and turned to go. But stopped to speak aloud for the first time since he arrived.

'Your shows are getting better. But only slightly. Watch yourself lest someone do as I said to you.'

Samuel gave a nod to Mercutio's back as he walked away. Not waiting for any kind of utterance. He knew he was understood. And even though he had reason to worry for his friend, Mercutio knew Samuel did not become as old as he was by being the fool at all times. Silently he stood. Mercutio would enjoy has birthday Samuel believed. 70 years to the day, although he looked younger than Samuel did. The young Toreador Anarch was one of the few Samuel hoped would live to double or triple his age. The band would be backstage... packing up equipment hopefully and take their pay for the owner. Samuel would go to enjoy Mercutio's little gift in private. It was true friendship. His birthday, yet he gave the gifts. The small vial was held tight in his hand as he moved. Crimson glory the first of Mercutio's gifts. Information the second. Samuel licked his lips and hurried his steps to the small dressing room in back. The beast wouldn't be happy with the small swig in the vial, but it was a start.