Date: Sun, 22 Dec 2002 12:07:33 -0600
From: Michael Yost <myost@charter.net>
Subject: Real World Chapter 16

Laying on the cement floor was a young girl.  Her upper body pulled apart.
Her rib bones seemed scattered about her body.  On closer inspection the
placement of the bones had a definite pattern to them.  Her flesh was
already marbled with black and blue veins.

"They made it look like a group of Satanists killed her," Christov said
faintly, "Crude, but effective."

"Look what else I found," Henri said, pointing to a large, dead potted
evergreen.  Guts made for the macabre decorations hanging on its brittle
and breaking branches.

"A bunch of tree hugging Satanists," Christov deduced.

"Christov this is the coven you want to make a formal introduction of Pete
to?"

"A kill is a kill," Christov said defensively, "I've taken some gruesome
measures myself to hide a body."

"Christov look at her face, the measure of pain on it.  The way her fingers
are curled and digging into the palms.  The amount of blood wasted," Henri
said patiently, "There are finger length grooves in the flesh indicating
something very strong and forceful dug into her chest and ripped her open
with his or her bare hands. "

"Henri it more than likely," Christov bent down to sniff around the body
for tell tale scents of a human being's sweat on her other than the girl's
particular sweat and decay, "This was probably down by an ancient", he said
confused, "Wait, I smell another mortal's blood on her, and another
mortals' body odor.  You could be mistaken about grooves being made
immortal's hands.  I smell the scent of another mortal having been here."

"She might have recently been with a lover and his or her scent may still
be on her clothing," Henri said, doubtfully, "The young ones in the coven
could have done it for sport, perhaps they spread open her chest with a
tool or knife of some sort.  It's a very clean wound.  Nothing jagged about
it.  It does seem she was quickly torn open."

"If it was the youngsters Pete would be a good influence on them," Christov
challenged Henri. Look," he closed her jelly runny eyes, "It's a shame when
a kill becomes as violent as this, but you know how young ones love to show
off.  Most night walking vampire who are made from the meat of adolescents
always have a hard time with self control.  That's why it's best to use
only adult mortals when making a fledging.  Remember when Andre was a young
vampire and his little slop of horrors? How he loved to bring mortals into
his lair and make a spectacular out of their death.  It's a pity.  After
some years of life the young ones learn what adults already had when they
entered our world, self control, then when they lived too long, and become
ancients they go into a second childhood, and go back to their violent
tastes."

"Even those of us who were made night walkers in the stage of being an
adult have been known when we become ancients to become savages," Henri
said thoughtfully, "I think it is a matter of the heart becoming jaded, the
ancient seek thrills and excitement out of boredom, the young out of sheer
need to whet they energy out."

I say we respectful keep our distance from these charmers, and if Pete
happens to meet them we'll let Pete deal with them, "Christov said, "Why
were you poking your nose in here anyway?"

"I found a rather lovely caretaker of the cemetery," Henri said, "He was
paying his respects to his wife's grave.  He used to do it every night,
presently he's sharing that lovely bronze coffin with its occupant."

"I should be so lucky, "Christov sighed, "Good hunting."

A rat crept up to the body it had been dining on and off on.  Grabbing it
by its naked tail Christov brought its squealing body to his hungry lips,
crushing it's spinal cord between his long elegant fingers.  He drank from
the paralyzed creature.  Throwing it over his shoulder, he wiped his mouth,
"That will do for me tonight.  Let's wait for Pete."

"Oui, let's," Henir said removing his coat, draping it over the girl's
body.

"You're going to miss that coat," Christov scolded him

"No matter,' Henri said.

"A vampire showing gallantry to the dead," Christov moaned as he left.
Henri following behind him, rubbing his arms in his thin cotton shirr to
warm his flesh which was already starting to sting.

"Find a way to keep me warm?" Henri teased hopefully.

Christov shook his head, always naked from the waist up he was used to
feeling the cold.

Opening up the bronze coffin Christov pulled the coat off of Henri's
victim.  A thin old man with heavily veined hands and a moist with spit
mouth under his gold mustache lay on top of a corpse which had discolored
skin puffed and bloated up from its skeleton.

Christov noted Henri's kill was still pretty pliant, and it didn't seem to
show any signs of shock or a struggle.  "You must have taken him fast,"
Christov said approvingly, If your so cold why didn't you open his coffin
and take off his coat?"

"Because," Henri said, "I detest parkas. I detest anything made of
synthetic material."

Mincemeat, Christov moaned to himself.. "Wear it," he ordered, taking it
off the corpse and putting it over Henri's shoulders.  Zipping up Henri's
new-to-him parka, Chrisov's hands fell off the zipper touching Henri's
throat.

Swallowing, Christov quickly took his hands away, saying, "You want to get
laid?"

"Here?" Henri said laughing, his face twisting in distaste, "Non, Beside my
dear friend, I haven't any change."

"You never do," Christov said huskily, "Sure no twenties in his coat?"

"Non," Henry lied, longing for Christov to kiss him.  Hoping he would give
him the slightest hint he wanted to be kissed.

Henri glanced at the copse feeling ashamed and humbled.

He could see the fear in Chrisov's brown eyes all decorated with mascara
and eyes liner.

You poor fool.  You'd cheerfully slap around anyone you felt deserved it.
Yet you're petrified of me.  I'm the only one in the world you're incapable
of not being afraid of, Henri thought

"Oh well.  Too bad you haven't any change.  You should carry some cash
around with you," Christov said pretending boldness.  Feeling relived and
grateful towards Henri in never having change.

"Let's go wait for Pete," Henri said, following Christov out.

Josh nervously knocked at the door of an ancient Victorian house right in
the middle of down town Chicago.

"Here's our last roommate!"  yelled a young black man opening the door
wide, holding his hand out for Josh to pump.

Josh' s face went into automatic smiles as he was greeted by his other five
roommates.

"I'm Paul," said the young man who opened the door.

Josh decided he was gong to like stocky, athletic Paul who had a grin which
was warm and inviting,

"I'm Joanie," said a perfectly shaped, small blond with a face which had a
tasteful application of make up showing off her natural beauty.  Clear gray
eyes and health gave her a sweet kind of female perfection.

Another splendid female specimen a long, model-thin black girl with
Japanese slanted eyes and magnificently high cheek bones presented herself
as Marcia.

The boys of course were more delectable in their own way.

"Thomas," said a long well built boy with the looks of a movie star type
who played in teen movies," "I'm the gay one."

"Pleased to meet you," Josh said his on automatic smile becoming a tiny bit
more real, "What a way to break the ice," Josh teased, subtly looking
Thomas over.

"And I'm Joe, said a boisterous face belonging to a ravishing boy with a
wild mop of brown hair, and the most disturbing, fantastic green eyes Josh
had ever seen on a seductive, mortal male, "I'm the straight guy.  Whose
team are you on?" Joey said licking his thick lips.  He had a clear
complexion and a tasty choir boy mouth.

"I'm a fence sitter," Josh joked, not even trying to be subtle about
looking Joey straight in the face.  Josh quickly looked down from Joey's
face when he saw Joey admiration of him was just as frank.

"I'm Amy," giggled a perky girl with breasts too big on her small frame.
Her breasts had to be doctored.  Josh backed away from her a little.  She
threw her arms around him.  Her body pressing a little too intimately to
his.  He would have sworn if she were a guy, she'd be sporting a hard-on
and it would be digging into his thigh.

Her brown eyes met his blue heartbreaker eyes, and her eyes turned moist
and hungry, "I think we're going to get along fabulously," she said
emphasizing the word fabulously with such heated significance she caused
Josh to feel both flattered and annoyed, knowing he was going to be chased.

An attractive oriental girl introduced herself as Tan.  Josh shook hands
with her appreciating her polite reserve.

"It looks like you and I are going to be sharing a room," Joey said
pleasantly while a camera man wired a mike on Josh's shirt.

"Cool," Josh said admiring Joe's sloppy sweat shirt and baggy shorts. Glad
he wasn't sharing his room with someone who didn't appear to a neat freak.

"We thought we'd talk about ourselves while we all unwound the hot tub,"
Amy said, tucking her arm into Josh's.  "Then we'd go to the House of Blues
and talk about stuff we were too sober to talk about."

You all already seemed pretty bombed, Josh thought to himself surprised.

"Just a minute kids," one of the camera men said, going to door to let in
whoever was knocking on it.

In came Mr.  Link, one of the producers who conducted the interviews to get
on to the show.

"Glad you all made it safely here," Mr. Links said in his booming voice
looking directly at Josh.