Chapter One
Assignment
“Aren’t you a little young?”
“Aren’t you a little desperate?”
“Hey, fuck you pal…I could go anywhere else to get this done.”
“Yeah, you could…but could you find anyone who could do it as quietly as I can?”
“Well I don’t know…it only takes a few days.”
“And a few days is all you have. I’ll do the job…50,000”
“50,000?! Fuck you! You’ll work it for twenty-five or you’ll get nothing!”
“I said fifty…you want this done or not?”
A pause, thoughts ran through his head for a moment.
“Alright, alright…fifty…but I want it done by Tuesday.”
“Tuesday…we have a deal…I want my money now…cash.”
“You’ll get your money when I get a certificate of death, asshole”
“You think I need your fucking money? I could go to thirty other people just lined up for my kind of work!”
“Jesus! Will you keep it quiet?”
“Keeping it quiet is what I do…Senator.”
“You’ll get twenty-five now, and twenty-five when it’s done, deal?”
“Deal…and you can trust it will be done.”
“I’m counting on him dead…no slip-ups.”
“Did I not just say it would be done? Give me my money and get the hell out of my sight.”
“Fine…take it.”
A heavy briefcase exchanged between black-gloved hands, each figure nodded. One was lead back to a large black limo, escorted by two large suits. The other disappeared from sight, melded once again with the shadows. Senator James McDowell stopped to glance over his shoulder, small droplets of rain falling from the brim of his hat to land on his face; steam escaped his lips as he whispered.
“It had better be clean…and it had better be done.”

Chapter Two
Confrontation
Footfalls were announced by soft clicking upon the damp cement, a heavy suitcase hung from a gloved hand, silver hair swirled about the lithe frame as jade eyes pierced the darkness. A Cheshire grin played from between pale tiers, revealing incisors far too large to be normal. Soft chuckle was swallowed up in a puff of steam as he walked. Another day, another dollar…wasn’t that how it always was? One good job, no clean up needed, and he got his money in full. He always got his money, and when he wanted it, too. A free hand fumbled about in a deep pocket of a long trench coat, and soon found the familiar soft box. He pulled it from the cloth of the pocket and flipped his wrist but once, a cigarette rising to his command. He grasped it between thin lips and searched again for the silver bit of metal. A Zippo was flipped up and lit, cigarette along with it, lid was clasped and again was concealed in the deep pocket. Curls of smoke came up to dance about gaunt features, a thin, arrow-like nose; noticeable cheekbones protruding from just below the eyes; pointed chin and blade-sharp jaw.
“Another perfect night in this country’s least perfect place.” He muttered.
New York City had gone downhill quite quickly after the wars years before. 2099 held little promise for the city, and with a new century on the dawn, little hope was left at all. Sure, there were those who decided to ride the declining coaster that was the stock market, but others simply packed up their things and headed off for cities that held much more integrity in their aging towers. He glanced about deftly, not much noticing his surroundings, this was one of those “bad” parts of town; gang-wars, school shootings, rapes, and murders galore.
“All the amenities of home…” Continuing his own outwardly spoken internal monologue.
He walked on, still unaware that a presence was near; it was close, close enough to kill him there. He flicked the now finished butt from his fingers and continued his walk, path lit by a few flickering streetlamps. A few cars buzzed by, rumbling deep in their metal bellies.
“Walking is getting really under-rated these days.” Mumbled then, he did so detest the things.
He felt something. Nothing physical, but a sixth sense, someone was close-by, their heartbeat now resounded in his ears. The grin slowly changed, lips curled farther away from lightly yellowed teeth, those fangs gleamed dully in the soft lamplight as a soft growl escaped his lips.
“Whoever you are…I know you lurk amongst the shadows…come out and face me if you are not terrified of the fact that you will fall at my hands.”
There was silence then; he stood facing and glaring at the deep shadows, soon a voice wafted out from them, a dark, feminine voice.
“I fall to no one’s hand…Toreador”
He gasped and stepped back but once, taking up a braced stance.
“I do not know who told you of my background…but I swear by the gods above that I will tear the information from you, your throat along with it!
A low chuckle at him, this made him snarl a bit more, anger rising in the back of his mind.
“Ha! You think that I would fall to you on this night? You must be the only immortal I have ever met who was so very naïve…”
This sent him into silent rage, his eyes shone a deep crimson hue and he snarled even harsher at the speaking shadows. He searched them deeper with his mind, but the presence was gone.
“The fuck was that?” Spoken as he did draw out of his eminent rage.
Leather sheathed hand came up to rub at the back of his tensed neck. He was angered and a bit shook up over the minor encounter, but shrugged it off, as he shrugged off everything else and continued his walk home.

Chapter Three
Easy Money
Vincent Valdez sat alone in the empty office, a pistol twirling deftly around his finger. A sigh passed between pale tiers and through thick raven locks. Why was Giovanni always the one to take up the business calls? It was boring as all hell to sit alone in this office, waiting for the advance pay to arrive. And yes, he had seen hell in all it’s fiery glory…nothing special, but earth? Ah, now there was something to truly fear. The dead had it easy; the undead had it even easier. A creak at the door, the 7’ frame entered the gloom of the poorly lit building. Silver hair danced about him, jade orbs piercing the very shadows to the one behind the desk, a heavy briefcase clutched in one leather-gloved hand. The figure then spoke, moving to a desk near the one Vincent sat at.
“We’ve got the job…”
A smirk came to Vincent’s lips then, crimson orbs flickering in excitement, black tresses falling in front of them as he rose to join his friend and partner.
“Perfect!”
His tone dropped then, serious, and anticipating a lower price than usual.
“Wait…how much we getting for this one?”
“Fifty thou. Twenty-five up front.”
“Fifty thou! Whoo-hoo! Aw Joey, we hit it big time! Ha!”
Joey…how he loathed the nickname Vincent had tagged him with. Jade orbs rolled high in their sunken sockets as lips pulled up in a slight sneer.
“Look, if you’re too lazy to say my full name, don’t bother to say it at all, eh?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever…let’s see the cash, Giovanni.”
There, he had said his damned name, in full. A bit of stress on the name in that sentence… The gold trimmed clasps on the leather briefcase were unclipped and swung off, the cover was lifted and there it was, 25,000 dollars. Vincent’s crimson eyes lit up and a grin played over his pale lips.
“Hey Giovanni?” He spoke as if in a daze…hypnotized by the bills that lay before him.
“Yes Vincent?” Giovanni replied, cool and mellow as ever.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?”
“No Vincent, and I hope you never do…”
At those words they both looked up into each other’s shimmering orbs…and cracked up laughing, the sight of money was always enough to drive either of them loony, but having it? Now that made them full out insane asylum fodder. So there they stood, two great giddy fools standing in front of a pile of money that would keep them secure for some time to come. Vincent spoke through his shuddering laughter, black strands falling about his dark red eyes.
“Aw, come on Giovanni, what are we gonna blow it on, huh? New suits? New weapons?”
And then he gasped, bringing a bony hand up to his mouth.
“We could go get some new trench coats…or nice cloaks!”
Giovanni continued to laugh lightly at the thought of luxury.
“Mmmm, sounds wonderful Vincent, but I think we best wait until the job is at an end, and we have our full payment.”
Vincent paused a moment to cast a lopsided glance at his partner.
“Uh…you wanna say that again in less archaic terms?”
Once more those orbs of green flame rose to the ceiling. “Meaning, I think we should wait until we have all the money to decide what to do with it.”
Vincent regarded him as a man who had just said he had no arms and legs as he walked and flailed them wildly. “Giovanni…incase you hadn’t noticed, twenty-five thousand dollars is a shit-load of money.”
Giovanni nodded sagely and took this in mind, but replied, cool and calm as he had ever been. “Yes, I know, but I have some plans for this money that I wouldn’t like to bring up at the moment.”
“Oh no…you aren’t pulling that on me now…you tell me what you plan on doing with our money right now, or I’m taking my half and go find a few sweet lasses to follow me about for the evening.”
With the flick of Giovanni’s fine wrist, the lid to the brief case was closed and locked up once more.
“I assure you, dear friend, that the money will be well spent, just you wait. Now then, about the job.”
Vincent eyed his partner warily, but decided it was best to leave it alone for the moment, he could always hassle Giovanni about it later.
“Yeah, so what do we have to do?”
From another pocket set deep in his long black coat, Giovanni pulled a small notebook, a Polaroid picture with it. The picture was handed to Vincent so that he may see the unfortunate soul they were after.
“His name is Arthur Bane. Senator McDowell wishes him dead because he is the holder of some rather touchy information regarding McDowell’s personal life. He told me that if Bane went to the courts on him, he could go away for a long time…and lose his cushy government job.”
Vincent gave a noise that said he understood thus far, and for Giovanni to continue.
And so the silver haired giant did, voice expressing how quickly he had come up with a plan. “Now then, on Tuesday there is to be a rather large ball at the meeting hall downtown, I say that we infiltrate the party, find Bane, distract anyone around, and dispose of him as quickly as possible. No muss, no fuss, simple and easy job.”
A nod sent a few more obsidian tendrils before Vincent’s pale face, and he replied, sounding serious and thoughtful for the first time that night. “Sounds good, but what do we do about security…you know, bodyguards, FBI and all that?”
Giovanni returned the nod and smirked lightly. “You leave that to me, I trust with your keen eye that you could pay Mr. Bane a visit without anyone knowing.”
“Damn right.” Vincent’ eyes scanned the wall behind Giovanni, dangerous weapons of all sorts and times set into perfect holders. “But what to wear?”
“I would suggest something discreet and silent…unless of course you want to have a bit of fun…” Giovanni’s voice grew dark and near malicious at those words, demon’s smirk playing over his thin lips.
“Aw, you know me Joey, I love a good party…”
“Right, then let us rest up, Tuesday draws ever nearer with the rising of the Monday sun.”
A yawn, light and much appreciated left Vincent’s lips then. “Indeed, well, g’night Giovanni, rest well.”
“Same to you Vincent, good night.”
That night they did indeed rest well, thoughts and dreams of yet another successful mission on the forefront of their minds. Giovanni dreamt of seeing the terror in the eyes of the guards he would have no trouble disposing of during the party. Vincent dreamed as well, of flesh and blood all around him, he stood in the center of the crimson maelstrom, eyes aflame with the ancient rage he held deep within.

Chapter Four
Target Acquired
Arthur Bane sat awake on Monday morning in his study, eyes scanning an interesting novel regarding mythical creatures of yore, werewolves and vampires, dragons and elves. He scoffed mentally at the thought of anyone coming up with such ridiculous things. A light tapping upon the shag carpeting meant that his butler was near…it was, after all, breakfast time.
“Tell me Walters, what do you think of the new uprising?” Bane’s voice was aged and smooth, much like the old man himself.
The butler, Walter, had entered, Mr. Bane’s coffee, paper, and bagel held on a silver tray.
“I say sir, it is quite the futile attempt at an upheaval of the government.” Walters replied, setting the silver tray down on the arms of Mr. Bane’s large armchair.
Bane took up the coffee and his bagel, sipping and chewing happily as Walter’s agreed with his views in full. Or was that his job? No matter either way. He had McDowell in his hip pocket and there was no way he could be touched. Ban was getting on in his age, and it showed. He was the weathered business-type. Always well dressed, more often than naught a cocktail or cigar dangling from his meaty fingers. He rose out of his large armchair and made himself ready for work, heading upstairs to dress. Rifling through his closet, he thought of how he would torture McDowell. He planned on taking McDowell out, but drawing it out would be the fun part in it. James McDowell had made a very big mistake; he’d trusted someone’s word and let his lust get the better of him. The pompous bastard had been at a Christmas party with Bane and a few colleagues, and had caught the eye of a very attractive secretary. Their dialogue droned into the night, small talk and bullshit filler. But McDowell took her into a dark room, and fucked her. Oh he did her something nasty and then took pictures. Poor drunk bastard, Bane thought, he passed out and left the pictures laid out on the damned desk. The catch was that his little liaison was not of age. And though most taboos had lost their hit over the decades, it was still quite illegal for men in their forties to have sex with seventeen year-old girls.
Bane slipped on his overcoat and headed for the door, grabbing the keys to his car as he slipped out the oak barrier.




*This isn't at all finished, I pasted it up here for a few reviews and also, I need some ideas on it...I've hit a block but I know where I want it to go...leave me a message if you have any ideas for me. Thanks.