My name is Blade. I am a vampire hunter...and now, I'm also a drug dealer.
Granted, my..."customers" are all vampires, and I lace them with my own "ingrediants," but unfortunately, that is what I am at this point--a drug dealer.
I feel better, though, knowing that these drugs will kill them all.
I got the idea after the last safe-house I turned into a slaughter-house. They didn't just have the usual blood-banks, but every other vice and crime you can imagine--money laundering, prostitution, kidnapping...
...And drugs. Lots and lots and lots of drugs.
So, after I killed all of them, myself, Abagail and Hannibal took as much of the drugs we could, and for the next few weeks, we proceeded to lace the drugs with our own stuff. We put silver nitrate in with the cocaine. We mixed essence of garlic into the heroin and estacy. We put actual garlic in the marijuana (much to the displeasure of Hannibal). Afterwards, we disquised ourselves and we sold our drugs to all the safe-houses in the New York City.
Which is how I got here, grinning like a madman in a safe-house as all the vampires in the room are O.D.ing.
Abagail stands next to me, looks at me, and says, "You're kinda sick, you know that?"
"I'm well aware, Abagail."
"Early one mornin' while makin' the rounds / I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down..." Hannibal sings through our comm. system, as he's taking care of the few vamps that are still alive.
"Less Cash, more killing, Hannibal."
He ignores me and continues, his chorus machine gun firing and screams of unnatural beasts. "I went right home and I went to bed / I stuck a lovin' .44 beneith my head..."
***
"You are now watching KUTV Channel 4 'News at 6 O'clock.' With your hosts Tom Marelli, Maria Jeni, Sam O'Brian for Weather, and Chip Donoui for Sports."
"I'm Tom Marelli, and this is news in your town. For our top story, my co-host, Maria, has it. Maria?"
"Thank you, Tom. Police are baffled by a string of mass drug over-doses in the Manhatten area. NYPD was recieving many calls about drug-trafficing in clubs in the city, and rush in--only to find them ODed and partially combusted. This lead the investigators to believe that this is possibly the work of a vigilantie.
"What makes this case even stranger, however, is that when autopsies were performed on some of those who died, examenors found that their psysical structure were almost completely unhuman. One of the men who performed the autopsy, who wanted his name to be anymonous, told me, and I quote, 'Their geneological structure is unlike anything I, or any journal in the history of science, has ever seen. The only thing I can tell at this point is that the majority of these people were not human, but instead had a strange, older strain of the X-gene, that has never been seen. We could be looking at a new species.'
"We'll keep a close eye on this story, so stick to this station for continuing updates--"
The television is switched off. Standing in the dark room were two hulking minions, each with glyphs on the skin between their thumb and forefinger of their right hands--Familiars. They stood near the desk, where a third man, cloaked in the shadows, smoking a cigar, watched them with calm, yet cold, eyes. To say that the men were scared s**tless would be putting it lightly.
"Sal, Vic," the man in the chair said. "Could you two perhaps stop shivering in your little-girl panties for two seconds and just explain how the F**K this 'vigilantie' got a hold of our shipments?"
"Well, Mr. Mastroni," the thug on the right, Vic, finally stammered out, "my guess would be a rival gang--I mean, most of the cops in that area are already payed up, and no one knows of our, in the species-sense, existence, so..." The man in the chair, Mastroni, put his cigar and rubbed his temples.
"No, you f**king waterhead. I guess you didn't pay attention, because this business is very hairy for us--in case that news report didn't find itself in your thick skull, we are just an inch away from having our existence revealed to the public, and that would be bad for all of us. Besides, most of our enemies were killed in this massive clusterf**k, so we can rule them out as suspects.
"No, we got us a vampire hunter. I've heard from some of my button-men that the Daywalker's in town, so..." As soon as that nickname passed through Mastroni's lips, the two thugs' eyes lit up. "Oh, for the love of--Please try not to s**t yourself all over my office, I just got this new carpet in. Besides, before we deal with him, I got some jobs for you."
"What, boss?" Sal said, gladdened that he won't have to deal with Blade...yet.
"Sal, I want you to go to this adress here," Mastroni passed a slip of paper over to Sal. "He's one of the biggest crime bosses in this town. Until we recover from this bit of bad publicity, we'll need a cruch, and I'm sure he could use our services. Vic?"
"Yeah boss?"
"Convince Miss Jeni not to continue her story on us. Her daughter leaves school at 2 PM, the rest is up to you."
