riseofmaximilianorlock

The wind howled on this night, much like that of the banshees of Irish legend. Gary’s streets were mysteriously empty. Gary was a small town just east of Chicago however it had fallen into decay in the mid eighties and now just survived being torn down . Now a new hardship had fallen on the little towns streets. An odd chill had made the darkness an unbearable agony for the townsmen this night. It had not been one week since the first victim was found mutilated in a pool of his own dilated blood. From that day forward at least one victim would be found the following morning. The most recent murder however was of a Miss Kitty Farily and two veteran officers of the law, Sergeant Bob O’Reilly and Matthew “Whiskey” MacHue, legendary names in their respective precincts. Now they too were fallen victims to this latest chain killer as the papers began calling him. Their eyes were torn out and chunks of flesh stuffed into their mouths to muffle their own screams. Blood coated the alley walls that the bodies were found in and the police car had be over turned and ripped apart. When the forensics made their reports all vital organs were missing. “Forcibly ripped from their hosts.” One of the men would comment. So grizzly were the events of this latest attack that the papers even refused to report the details.

Now no one would dare step out in the night. Horrified children slept underneath their beds or in closets. Worried fathers would sit at their doors with shotguns. Even police refused to go on the streets this night. None save for a lone man. Jonus Gabriel Had walked these streets for three nights now. His dark hair flowing in the breeze as he strode down the haunted streets of Gary. To onlookers in the past nights, he appeared to have no purpose or direction in his steps. Now however had anyone seen him they would have made great efforts to keep from his path. He had purpose in his stride now. His eyes portrayed a hollow merciless _expression that could be traced back to when he would dawn armor for great battles that were just over the horizon. He wore a long black coat, made from only the finest leather. On the back was, a coat of arms not seen by the eyes of men since the dark ages. Two wolves, one gray one red locked in an epic struggle. Gabriel’s pace slowed as he came now to a descending stair case that lead to the only available entrance of an old condemned hotel in Gary’s projects. His eyes never flinched to check the surroundings. He knew far better than any human could that He was not alone on this street. From the depths of the shadows cast from the moonlit buildings a figure darted this way and that. Ever so slowly, yet a pace quicker than the eye can follow. Gabriel’s ears heard his mysterious callers approach quicken with every beat of his heart. The sound was faint yet Gabriel could place the assailant at fifty yards away on the ground. Now thirty yards away and it had leapt to the rooftops. Though it made not a sound Gabriel could almost sense it laughing to itself as it closed the distance between the two. His hands slid into his coat cradling a short sword fastened to his hip. His palm was damp as he tightened his grip and loosened the ancient blade in its sheath. Twenty yards away and now Gabriel heard the footfalls of someone or something closing fast. It jumped from rooftops to alley walls and down to the street itself. The last few yards were closed without Gabriel’s visitor touching the ground. Whom ever it was, was now right behind him, breathing heavily, but not from exhaustion. It was more like that of a savage wolf right before ripping its victim to shreds. The smell of blood was on its breath and a slight trickle fell from its razor sharp teeth and landed on the shoulder of Gabriel’s coat. Then it spoke.

“A lovely night Templar.” Its voice growled. “Yes.” He hissed answering it’s own question. “Truly a night of lavish feasting and havoc, would you not agree?” Gabriel’s hand slowly released his blade. “Ahh!” The creature growled, so you were on your toes this night. It’s a good thing, for there is much death at hand and you certainly don’t want to be counted amongst them now do you?”

“I trust that you found one?” Gabriel said.

“Oho! Is that irritancy I hear in your voice Jonus? Surely you forgot to drink tonight haven’t you?”

“Answer me Orlock.” Gabriel growled. “This is no time for jesting”.

Maximilian Orlock threw his head back and howled in amusement. Gabriel didn’t move an inch. He continued to stare down the steps at the foreboding doorway.

“Always the good little Templar, taking orders and nothing more. I often wonder how much of lord Arcutrus’ ass is left for you to kiss.” The beads in Orlocks eyes glowed red as he brushed back his silvery hair, letting it fall behind his own coat covering the same insignia that decorated Gabriel’s. “Very well then Jonus, I discovered one of our insipid little rodents feeding on the corner of Henry street. What urchins these young vampires are. None of them realize the true measure of the gift they have been granted. They don’t even know how to fly or even used mana these days. At least in the old days this used to be a difficult job.”

Gabriel turned his head for the first time. “Stay on task.” He warned. Orlock gazed upon Gabriel a delighted menace in his eyes. Both knew the threat was as empty as the streets. “Did you obtain any further information on our subjects? I can’t imagine that you couldn’t get the little whelp to crack.”

Orlock’s smiled widened until it crossed his entire face. “He wasn’t even any fun to interrogate. I only crushed four of his toes and he sold out every member of his clan. Evidently they’re calling themselves the Blood Wraiths. Not even a good clan name.”

“You drank him didn’t you?” Gabriel groaned. “You know that Lord Arcturus disapproves cannibalizing other vampires.”

“Yet how do you think Lord Arcturus came into power my friend?”

Gabriel drew in a deep sigh, one of the thousands since he and Orlock began working together. The torture of his victims, the mutilation of humans and the feeding off of other vampires. It was said that when you drink the blood of another vampire some of its essence and power is transferred to the one that drinks. Orlock would revel in all of it and Gabriel would try and block it all out. This however only encouraged Orlock even more. He shrugged it all off and resumed his stature. “How many are there?”

“Including the imbecile I just dealt with, there are thirteen. All of which are in their puny little hideout.” Orlock’s gaze trailed down the steps to the door. “These vampires are frail fledglings, mere rodents. You could purge them without the help of me or your little tooth pick there.”

“Very well, Max. You start at the top of the building, I’ll start on the bottom, we’ll meet in the middle. Exterminate all violators of the cloak of shadows in the name of Lord Arcturus and the vampire nation.”

“Blood’s will, be done!” Orlock answered the edict. It was the edict of the hunt, called upon vampires who broke the laws and became known to the public. Such was the law of the vampires since the beginning of time.

Gabriel felt Orlock’s presence disappear up into the night. Then he heard the sound of splintering wood as Orlock crashed through the walls of the top floor. The sound of gun fire and blood curdling screams pierced the night, only to be drowned out by the deep chaotic laughter of Orlock. Gabriel held himself back no longer and smashed through the door. Inside were three vampires. All were feasting on their latest victim, a college student whose car had broken down outside of the city. From the moment the door broke in the three had only enough time to look up and see a man with chocolate brown skin and black hair Bringing a short sword down upon each of their necks.

One floor up a vampire known to the rest as Shamus, heard the commotion above and below. He turned to the man on his immediate right. A large muscular man with thick mutton chops and spiked red hair. This was the leader of the clan. “Luke, what’s happenin?” Shamus squealed as the floorboards splintered and a vampire in a black coat and a bloody sword rose into the room. The last thing Shamus saw was his boss picking him up and hurling him between the two, followed by a sharp pain piercing his throat. Luke sprinted with incredible speed up to the third and last floor of the building where the rest of his cronies surely were.

“On yer feet you bastards.” He called as he broke into the room. “Get yer guns and get….” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, for when he looked around. He saw each of his comrades lacerated and ripped apart with their limbs strewn out across the room in a sea of blood. Then he heard a deep and gut tightening voice whisper right in his ear. The smell of the fresh blood on his breath filled Luke’s nostrils as he stood paralyzed.

“What a pity!” The voice hissed. “Not one of them were even worth the effort I put into it. I hope you can put up a bit more of a fight.”

“You talk too much you bastard!” Luke roared as he spun around, hurling his fist at his assailant. Orlock let out another diabolical laugh as the punch sailed wide. “Come on you…” Luke hollered as he swung again. Orlock’s eyes suddenly flickered with a ghastly white and he bit down into Luke’s fist. The next thing Luke knew Orlock had bit down and his hand disappeared with a loud crunch and a rain of blood and fingers. To horrified to move Luke tried to turn and run. Orlock was upon him however and he he clamped down on the lesser vampires neck and drained every once of fluid from his body. When Orlock was satisfied, he flung the lifeless corpse aside and then turned to face the new presence in the room. Gabriel had appeared in the doorway. Orlock slowly began to settle down and wiped the blood from his lips.

“You’re a tad late Jonus, perhaps I should have saved the last one for you.”

“You drank them all?” Gabriel asked anger swelling up in his chest. “For gods sake Orlock you know the vampire lords look down on feeding off vampire blood.”

“Calm yourself Templar.” Orlock grinned. “These are mere fledglings, not even worth the drink. The blood is thin and unflavored little better than drinking from a corpse.”

“Then why?” Gabriel demanded to which Orlock only smiled again. Then Gabriel noticed something clasped in Orlocks bony hands. Orlock followed Gabriel’s gaze and opened his palm to reveal a set of lips he had torn from one of the female vampires in the room. “Good lord Max.” Gabriel shuddered. “Why must you collect such grizzly trophies from your victims?”

“Not just any victims and not just any trophies.” Orlock gloated. “These lips are absolutely perfect. Perfect in shape, perfect in texture, perfect in quality. It is rare to find things that are perfect in this day and age.” Orlock then kissed the severed lips, longingly and with passion. Gabriel shuddered and turned his back, not wanting to watch anymore.

“Come Along Max. It’s a long run to Philadelphia.”

Gabriel and Orlock sat in a red carpeted waiting room beneath the remains of what used to be the original white house. Now it served as the capital of the vampire nation which spread from the west coast of America to the eastern most parts of Europe.

Ten Vampire lords sat in rule of the domain and they would convene here in the realm of Lord Cassius Arcturus, one of the oldest vampires in existence. Both Orlock and Gabriel served Arcturus and the other lords as enforcers of vampire law.

Gabriel sat uneasy in his seat, letting his mind wander about how Lord Arturus would have reacted to the reports filed about the Gary mission. He knew that Orlock had failed to mention the draining of the vampires blood. He however felt obligated to report it. Thus the vampire lords were convened to judge Orlock’s actions and pass judgment. One look at His partner and Gabriel knew that Orlock was completely unfazed by the severity of his actions. For nearly a decade now Orlock had been experimenting with vampire blood. At first only a few drops at a time on the rarest of occasions. Then he stepped his habits up to a glass full and then it started to become more common. After six years it increased to drinking directly from another vampire. Now He had drank from multiple targets in the extent of one night. The vampire Lords could no longer look the other way and Neither could Gabriel. Gabriel looked away, across the room to where a very pretty girl with long blonde hair sat at a desk going through her daily work and quietly taking calls. Amy was her name Gabriel recalled. He’d admired her from the moment he was first admitted as a templar and was brought before Lord Arcturus. The day he met Amy however was also the day he had met Orlock.

As if he knew Gabriel was thinking about him, Orlock slowly turned his head to look at his partner. He didn’t need to guess at what Gabriel was so fawning over.

“You know they will promote you Jonus.” He said wryly. Gabriel was snapped back from his daydreams and looked in surprise upon Orlock. “Your record is outstanding and your latest report will surely have given you credit among the council.” Gabriel stuttered and stumbled searching for words that would not come to him when he needed them most.

“Max, I’m sorry but, your feeding habits and…”

“Stop worrying Jonus!” Orlock laughed and waved his hand. “You’ve done little more than what I’ve come to expect from you. You’d have been a fool to not report the drinking. Even if you didn’t Lord Arcturus would have discovered it anyway, and you would have been labeled a co-conspirator. And you’ve always been the good little servant. Always playing by the rules. The perfect Templar. They’ll surely promote you. If for nothing else, it would be to get you away from me. Can’t have you falling under Maximilian’s influence now. You may even be able to obtain Amy as a benefit.”

“Leave her out of this.” Gabriel hissed. Orlock’s eyes flickered up again, and Gabriel backed down.

“Such emotion Jonus, it was only a jest. But you should think about your future standings if you want to stay ahead.” At that moment Amy interfered with the conversation.

“Lord Arcturus and the council of Lords will see you both now.”

Both Orlock and Gabriel rose to their feet and headed to the now open doors left of Amy’s desk. Gabriel feigned a smile which Amy returned. Orlock however brought an uncomfortable shudder out of her as the doors closed behind the two templars.

Orlock and Gabriel now looked upon a long table. On the left sat five of the vampire lords hailing from Europe. Lord Von Ritter of the German province, lord Le Bauve of the Spanish/French province, Barron Seigmund of The Russian and Austrian province Duke Antonidas of the Greek/Italian domains and Lord Arkendale of the British Isles. On the right sat the four Lords of the American domains. Lord Enjolras of the Northwest, Lord Darrius of the West, Lord Sorin of the South, and lord Mendez of the Central Americas. Each however answered in the end to Cassius Arcturus of the East. It was Cassius who was the oldest of the gathered conclave. He sat at the head of the table and conveniently the furthest from Orlock.

The two Templars stood quietly as the Lords read aloud the reports made by both Orlock and Gabriel. Combined the reports left the templars to stand before the council for the better part of an hour as the ordained monarchs took their time emphasizing every word and freely allowing their emotions to protrude into the reading, especially when reading Gabriels report. Gabriel personally was bored by the length of time the lords took. Orlock on the other hand, listened intently almost reliving the experiences as it was read to him. He didn’t hide any emotions. When they mentioned the accused diablerie of eight vampires, he drooled. Even the stalwart vampires of the council stopped in their proceedings until Orlock finally regained his composure. Upon the completion of the two reports Gabriel was called to step forward. Lord Arcturus stood and for the first time in the meeting spoke.

“Templar Jonus Gabriel. Through action and convictions pertaining to the preservation of the cloak of shadows and the well being of the vampire nation we of this council see fit to promote you to high Templar of the region. Congratulations Jonus.”

“Yes, congratulations indeed.” Orlock added, much to the upsettlment of the council. “This is truly an event to be remembered.” Orlock continued. “I thought that one could only achieve the position of high templar after a complete millennia of service. At least that is what your laws have stated when you formed the templars Cassius.”

“Maximillian Orlock you forget your place.” Lord Von Ritter roared as he slammed his brick sized fist on the table. “How have you the audacity to show such little respect for your elders!” Orlock was unshaken by the german lords outburst. Lord Sorin then interrupted.

“Templar Orlock, it is heresy to question the ruling of this council.”

“Heresy Lord Sorin?” Orlock grinned. “Am I the one who is overturning an age old tradition?”

“Impudent bastard!” Von Ritter roared again, this time rising from his seat.

“Enough!” Arcturus boomed. The council grew silent as the eldest among them rose to his feet. “Jonus Gabriel is hereby promoted to the rank of high templar. May he be taken to prepare for his deserved ceremonies. This is passed as final ruling on the matter. Templar Jonus Gabriel, you are dismissed.” Gabriel bowed low and exited. Orlock on the other hand stood his ground alone against the ten deeply angered lords. “As for you Maximilian…” Arcturus began. “These recent events are far too much to overlook.”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Orlock sneered.

“Do not play these games with us!” Von Ritter again bellowed. “You have openly taken blood from other vampires. In My domain I would have you disemboweled on the spot for such a crime.”

“But we are not in your realm.” Orlock shot back with that same smile he would wear every time he was before this council in the past. “This is the realm of Cassius Arcutrus, and here, there is no adamant law about the feeding upon upstart vampires who would threaten your precious existence.”

“Which is why you stand before us now.” Lord Darius spoke. “Your methods of service, however effective as they have served you attract too much attention. Every assignment we send you on ends up in the news of the mortal world. If they were smart enough to piece them all together we could be exposed.”

“And why would exposing us be so terrible?” Orlock leered. “Vampires as a nation are more than strong enough to handle anything humans could throw at us. The ten of you lords should be more than enough as it is. Yet all I see is ten vampires pretending to be humans by hiding behind numbers and assets.”

“How dare you!” Von Ritter shouted.

“Lord Von Ritter, control yourself.” Arcutrus said. “Maximilian Orlock, it greaves me to do this. You have served as perhaps the finest templar in present history. Your actions however can, no longer be overlooked by your records. You are hereby stripped of the title of templar pending final judgment at a later date. Such is the final ruling of this council.”

Orlock began to chuckle to himself. It was not the reaction lord arcturus or any other lord would have expected

“This is truly a historical day! Orlock laughed. Not only has a high templar been prematurely chosen, but a templar is stripped of his title as well. Yes, this is truly historic.”

Lord Arcturus was unable to vocally dismiss Orlock, a shiver went down his spine and stuck in his gut. He waved his hand and Orlock spun on his heels and left. Once he was gone Arcturus slumped down hard in his chair.

“What are we going to do about this situation Cassius?” Asked Von Ritter.

Orlock burst through the doors from the council straight past Gabriel and a shaken Amy. Gabriel quickly fell in tow with his old comrade as they made their way through the winding hallways that stretched under the Philadelphia streets above.

“Max, tell me what happened in there!” Gabriel said, coming up from behind, attempting to keep up with Orlock’s stride.

“Such a humble question Jonus, and indeed a question you should know the answer to.”

“They released you? How can they just release a templar? It’s unheard of.”

“Isn’t it also unheard of to grant a promotion to high templar before they have served a full millennia?” Gabriel stumbled in his step but recovered quickly. Not, however before the ever observant Orlock noticed. “Why Gabriel, you’re still the paranoid little vampire you were back in the dark ages.” Gabriel wasn’t in the mood for Orlock to twist the subject around on him like all the times before.

“The past is what it is Max, and you really should be thinking about your future as it is. You don’t even seem the least bit concerned about the fact that the majority of the conclave feels that drinking another vampires blood is a mortal offence.”

“That’s interesting, Jonus.” Orlock let out a quiet chuckle to himself. “We, in all of our exalted immortality still refer to things as mortal.”

“Orlock, this isn’t something you can chide about, you’re in a very fragile position. If you don’t watch yourself things may become volatile.”

“As far as my position is concerned Jonus, I am finished with those pompous bastards that call themselves lords.” Orlock felt Gabriel grab him and shove him towards the wall. When he looked down at him he saw an intense flood of anxiety stream from his lips.

“Damn it Orlock. Stop being a god dammed fool and think about what you’re saying. If the council catches wind of you speaking like that then you’re finished. You wont be safe anywhere, they’ll hunt you down and kill you.” Gabriel locked eyes with Orlock and a wave of fear pushed him back. The gaze in Orlock’s eyes were not that of the calm self assured vampire he’d just been talking to. They were ablaze with a sadistic flare, like that of a beast begging to be unleashed. Gabriel released Orlock and stepped back. He watched as those killer eyes returned to their dormant state.

“Such built up emotion Gabriel.” Orlock hissed. “How sad I wont be here to see it any more.” The two resumed their walk in silence. They boarded an elevator that would take them up to the streets.

“Have you ever truly stopped to think about how much power those spineless leeches down there truly have?” Orlock asked. Gabriel looked appalled but didn’t say a thing. “Answer me Jonus.”

“They’re the ruling body of vampires in the world, you can’t just question that kind of power.”

“Is that so?” Orlock asked. “Have you not noticed how many missions we’ve been going on as of late? In just this year alone we’ve nearly doubled up in work compared to the last several. Gangs of little undead shits are running the streets in packs and are multiplying like cockroaches. Those lords that you so blindly follow, are barely able to hold down their home cities much less their entire domains. Almost half of these vampires we were sent to kill weren’t even aware that we as a nation exist.” Orlock looked with satisfaction on Gabriels face as he took in what had been said. “Think on it Templar. The lords are living in the past. Their days are slipping away and they’re dragging everyone down with them. Including pretty little Amy.” The door opened to a cold looking marble room which exited into the night.

“What will you do?” Gabriel finally asked. “You no longer have your title to protect you.” Orlock looked at Gabriel for a long moment then turned to look out onto the streets. “There’s a lot of vampires making sires these days. One might even consider making one in light of the old times.”

“Perhaps Gabriel.” Orlock said, his unsettling smile returning. “Unlikely however. There’s so much in motion now however, I’d much rather see how things turn out tonight.” Maximilian Orlock turned and lifted Gabriels chin. “Farewell Templar, I doubt that the next time we meet will be on happy terms.” Orlock then darted out into the night. Gabriel stood there for a moment confused about Orlocks last words. They made him feel especially uneasy tonight. He shuddered and returned to the waiting elevator.

Orlocks residence was on the northern side of town. It was an old manor of considerable years in an abandoned neighborhood. This was Orlocks domain, all who resided here before were convinced that the region was cursed or haunted. For months the residents would hear maniacal laughter coming from the ancient house. It wasn’t until a local fraternity made its’ initiates stay the night in the house that the horror came to its full fruition. It was called a night of screams for the people who inhabited the neighborhood. None of the initiates were ever heard from again. Not until three weeks later when a group of unidentifiable cadavers appeared under the Benjamin Franklin Bridge. After that the neighborhood emptied. Orlock looked over the block of street as his own personal kingdom. Before entering his house he chucked his coat away on the lawn as though it were a tattered rag. It was no longer a symbol he could wear. It didn’t bother him in the least however. After over a century of wearing The Arcturus coat of arms he almost felt the restrictions disappear with the uniform. Upon entering the house the shadows practically danced with his presence. Every creek and sigh of the house was like a greeting to its master. The house was wide open on its ground level with two stair cases leading up to the second level along the walls. Orlock walked lifelessly up the stairs letting his legs take him where they pleased. The darkness followed him as he made his ascent. His arms arched up like folded bat wings. It wasn’t until he reached the top of the stairs that his senses flare up. His eyes began to turn a bright shade of red and a trickle of drool escaped from his mouth as his tongue twitched with a predator’s anticipation. He twirled to see three men standing beneath him all wearing the black uniform coats of the vampire nation. No words were spoken and no remorse was given. The three attacked instantly.

Orlock gave them every second they needed to get close to him. The first to reach him was slightly smaller than him with short red hair. He pulled a pair of daggers from his belt and aimed for Orlock neck and heart. In the moment when his two blades were to pierce flesh Orlock twisted his frame out of the path of the knives. Inch long claws protruded from his left hand and were embedded in the templars side. Orlocks right then made a precision cut across the throat, then he followed trough by a devastating blow to the head sending the nose into the brain and opening the gash on the throat even further. Having successfully dealt with the first of his attackers Orlock spun to face the next. This one was clearly of a stronger build. Something was different about his movements. It was as if he was running on the air itself. He had thick golden hair and was hefting a massive axe. Orlocks eyes widened with excitement as the axe was brought down. It landed with a bellowing thud and embedded in the floor. To Orlocks surprise his attacker was able to dodge his initial attack rebounded of the wall at him with a large hunting knife. He didn’t get half the distance back before Orlock was on him forcing him back against the wall. He then proceeded to snap both his arms and legs then embedded his knees into the helpless vampires stomache.

The last of the Templars produced twin machine guns and let off a spray of bullets that hit nothing and only brought a dizzying laugh from his target. Orlock landed in front of him arms outstretched like a scarecrow.

“You thought guns would help?” Orlocks eyes blazed with a wicked glow. To the Templar it was like gazing into the bowels of hell and his nerves failed. “Alow me to introduce a more effective method of submission.” Orlock grinned. He brought his outstretched arms forward. His hands which had been hanging limp, now stretched forward with their fingers twitching spastically. To the templar it was as if the shadows turned a darker shade of black and converged like snakes upon him and then all he saw and felt was a claustrophobic darkness.

Hours passed in this state until finally the dark shroud faded. He was in the basement of the manor. It reeked of dried blood and rotting meat. The walls were covered in moss and roots in one side of the room while the others were cement gray. In the middle of the room stood Orlock, nibbling gently on his fingers, staring on at his new captive.

“Ahh, It’s a pleasure to see you awake.” Orlock chuckled as the templar awoke from the effects of the spell. He watched as his victim struggled in the bonds of the chains he was wrapped in.

“Where are my men?” He hissed.

“How disrespectful to refer to such brave vampires as mere men.”

“Where are they?” He snarled. Orlock shrugged the tossed a severed hand at the templars feet. He watched the templars face go white, taken aghast by the thoughts of his partners mutilations. His face a blank gaze as he looked at the hand. Then he roared with a redoubled effort to break loose, partly from rage and part from fear of what might happen to him.

“It’s perfect isn’t it?” Orlock teased. “The texture, the tone and smoothness. Perfect in every way. I got it from your big friend with the pretty hair. It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve spent centuries searching for natural perfection. Especially of our own human form. If I find an eye or a foot, even a nose that is truly perfect, then I have an overwhelming urge to, extract it from it’s imperfect owner.”

“Fuck you, you sick butchering bastard.” The templar yelled.

“Now, now there no need to be jealous my friend. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a natural specimen such as your friend’s hand. But perhaps you would like to skip the small talk and resume the business at hand.” Orlock pulled from behind his back large axe the templar’s comrades used during the fight. “Don’t bother talking or anything feeble like that, I know full well that Arcturus and the lords want me dead, so its not like you have any other information that could be of use.” Orlock quickly swung the axe hard at the templar head stopping it only a hair short. Orlock laughed and did it again and again over different areas of the templars body, laughing with each near fatal stroke.

“You have no idea how exhilarating the rush of fear is.” He bellowed with another swing. This one severed the chains that held the templar down. With a rush of adrenaline and pure instinct the templar attacked. He was stopped by the swelling of shadows in the room, which proceeded to bash him off the walls. “Again!” Orlock taunted. “Again!”

The templar swallowed the pain and flew at Orlock with all speed. He was slapped aside as though he were a fly. Again and again he tried and was swatted by the still ever amused Orlock. On the next lunge Orlock embedded his claws into the templars gut and twisted hard. The Templar collapsed to the ground cradling the wound.

“Spent already? I thought you were the better of your companions. Pick yourself up and fight back, the night is so young and there’s so much to be done.”

The templar desperately looked around the room, spying his only exit sat opposite the room from him and Orlock was between them. He never got the chance however as Shadows began to fill the room. Soon all that he could see was Orlock racing at him. He instinctively threw a hard punch at his attacker. Orlock caught it effortlessly and crushed his fist as though it were a nut. Blood spurted from the wound spraying the templars face and uniform. Orlocks eyes steadied on his victim. All the fight had gone out of the templars eys. He sat in a pool of his own blood waiting to be finished. Orlock then lost interest. His villainous smile disappeared into the calmer careless face he wore earlier that night.

“It’s truly a tragedy!” Orlock said, his voice shown his disgust. “There was a time when a vampire would fight to the last drop of blood, to the last breath of air. Now they concede their fates at the first sign of trouble. I weep for the vampire nation.” Orlock was then at the templars throat draining the last of the warriors blood. When his veins ran dry he stopped. He dipped his hand in the pool of blood on the floor and walked to the nearest wall. On the wall he wrote in a single word: “Council”. To any who may have seen it the word would have meant little to nothing. But to Orlock, it represented the weakness that crippled the vampire species. It represented the responsibility of the maintenance of the vampire species itself. And it told him what he had to do.

Gabriel sat in his new room in the underground complex. He was unaccustomed to being away from the cold familiar apartments he held up in over the last decades. Now with his impromptu rise in the ranks he was residing in a warmer more respected environment. He couldn’t shake his feelings about the last few days however. Ever since Orlock was dismissed, vampires around Philadelphia and even across the world were starting to raise hell for the vampire lords and their governing bodies. The cloak of shadows, as it was so called was threatened every time a vampires actions are noticed by the outside world. Now they were becoming front-page news in the papers and were headlining local news stations. In Philadelphia the problem was the worst. Gabriel felt that he should be with the other templars trying to maintain order on the streets. Tradition however demanded that he was not to take part in such business. He was required to wait seven nights, and on the eight, he was to be dubbed a High templar or templar knight as most others called it. This was the eighth night and his nerves were at an end as the city was falling into turmoil. It wasn’t however the increasing chaos that truly bothered him. It was the words Orlock had said to him before he left. Something along the lines of watching how things turned out. He shook these troubling thoughts aside as he helped himself to a packet of medical blood that Amy had brought up to him for dinner. Gabriel relaxed. Amy had been the only one as of late he could confide in. She was calm and understanding, yet was strong when she needed to be. Orlock was right. With his promotion he was susceptible to even more liberties than that of his previous station.

“Damn!” Gabriel muttered as he threw the empty packet across the room. “How is he still able to haunt me like this.” No matter what he thought about Orlocks influence kept creeping back into his mind. Gabriel fidgeted with his new uniform. Black uniform pants and a rich green shirt. His Coat was very similar to before, only now it had gold braid on the sleeves and the coat of arms on the back had moved to the shoulders, whilst a fancy red cross marked the back. The cross was in tribute to the templars of the crusades. The title the vampires claimed after they destroyed the original order. The uniform was new and needed breaking in. What Gabriel was particularly proud of was his new sword. Forged especially for him as a symbol of his title. He had seen it on display in the coronation hall. Tonight he would be given the sword, by lord Arcturus.

A loud crash echoed from above. Gabriel jumped up and stared at the ceiling as if he could see through it up to the source of the disturbance. The next sounds were those of heavy footsteps in the hallway. Gabriel looked outside to see several templar, all carrying swords and other various weapons.

“What’s the problem?” He called out.

“There’s a vampire riot in the city, all templars are being called to arms.” One shouted as he ran past.

“They’re at the entrance of the complex!” Another shouted.

“Pleas Sir Gabriel, we’ll handle this.” Another shouted. Gabriel had been patient enough.

“I’ll be damned if I’m to sit and watch the city tear itself apart.”

He was out and with the templars as they raced to the entrance. With Gabriel, they were only thirteen in number. When they reached the surface level they were attacked by a mob at least five times their size. Packed in with that number was an even larger amount of drones. Looking upon them, Gabriel wasn’t even aware that such a number of vampires resided in the city. He had little time to think on the matter as the undead mob smashed into the small force of defenders like a giant wave. The skill of the templars was that of warrior poets as they smashed or dismembered all in their way. Bullets couldn’t touch them and wounds wouldn’t hinder them. Still the rabble of young vampires and their armies of corpses wouldn’t relent. Two of the bold templar fell in the fray. But the mob was pushed back finally. Gabriel and the others didn’t pursue but set up a meager defense in case they came back.

From the councils seats far beneath the surface they listened to the city riot rage. Several of the lords had received word that vampiric riots were taking place in their domains as well and yearned to return and restore order. The turmoil above was too risky to chance however and they remained, waiting until the riot was quelled. Various lords such as Von Ritter and Seigmund were outraged and voiced it regularly. Arcturus sat with his head in his hands at the head of the table. Times had not been this out of control since the days of the Holy Roman Empire. Now it seemed that the vampire nation was in its dying hours. He had deployed all the templars in his domain to quell the insurgence but it had been having a minimal effect.

A distant explosion rang across the city, follewd by another and yet another. Arcturus felt as if he were at the center of each blast, and part of him wished he was. He never would have imagined that the young blood vampires would go so far as to require human military powers to get involved. Von Ritter’s, rant was drowned out by the other lords as they shared in his anger. Their uproar was cut short by another explosion. This one however was much closer and shook the structure. An alarm went off next and Amy burst into the room followed by a pair of guards.

“Lord Arcturus the complex is breached.”

“From where?” Von Ritter howled. “The ttemplars on the surface claimed to have driven the rabble off!”

“Not from the surface my lord. This complex lays close to the subway tunnels. Someone has broken through the walls.”

“Impossible!” Arcturus said, rising from his seats. “Who could know of such a place?” Cassius then went very pale. Impossible, he thought. It couldn’t be him.

“We have no time my lord!” Amy pleaded but it was too late. The doors gave way in a shower of splinters and the two guards were disemboweled before either could draw their weapons. In the shattered doorway stood a tall figure with long silver hair, dressed in pitch black. His pupils were aglow with a radiant red.

“Greetings once again Cassius.” Orlock said, a trickle of blood leaving his lips. Arcturus stood aghast as Orlock strode past a terrified Amy and stood at the foot of the table.

“Orlock you degenerate bastard!” Von Ritter snapped as he lunged at him. Orlock took the full force of the German lords fist in his face and didn’t flinch. Von Ritter paused only to wonder how Orlock had not been sent flying across the room before throwing a second punch. Orlock’s lightning quick claws however severed Von Ritter’s arm and sliced his thoat before the second blow could be landed. The other lords watched as Orlock caught the crippled German in his spidery embrace. Orlock locked his eyes on Arcturus before ripping open Von Ritter’s throat and sucked out the helpless lords blood. After discarding the corpse along the far wall Orlock leaned back and breathed in deep. His body twitched in ecstasy as the other lords were frozen in their seats.

“What power this bastard had in him.” Orlock laughed. “I’ve never felt such a rush!” As he leaned forward the lords looked on in terror as the red color of Orlocks pupils now dilated the entirety of his eyes. They were like two red patches that glowed in the darkness. “Now.” Orlock leered. “Who is to be next?”

On the surface Gabriel and the other templar again regrouped after yet another attack by the unrelenting force of vampires and drones. Two more of the brave templar had fallen in the battle but they had all taken at least twenty with them. Gabriel didn’t need to guess to know that the city was now a warzone. Vampires were running amuck killing and feeding as they pleased.

“Sir Gabriel.” One of the templars called. “The complex has been breached from the subways.”

“Bullshit!” Another said. “No one outside of the complex knows about the layout like that.” Gabriel had a terrifying chill run up and down his spine, and in the back of his head he heard Orlocks insane laughter.

“Stay here and defend the entrance!” He commanded. The other templar weren’t enthusiastic about losing another of their number but they obeyed and Gabriel disappeared down the elevator shaft. When the doors opened he heard the alarms going off and saw the devastated condition of the hallways. The council was the first and foremost concern. He ran at unthinkable speed to the council room. Upon his arrival he saw the carnage, which had taken place. All of the lords lay strewn around the room dismembered and drained of blood. The only Lord missing from the room was lord Arcturus. Gabriel didn’t want to believe it, but after working with him for so long, he knew Orlocks handiwork when he saw it. Written in blood across the table Orlock had left a message solely for him. A single word: “Coronation”. Gabriel with rage to fuel his speed arrived at the coronation hall almost as speedily as he’d left the council room. He kicked the doors open to the wide red-carpeted room. There he saw Orlock at the steps of the twelve-seat throne slowly and pleasurably draining the blood of lord Arcturus.

“Maximilian!” Gabriel shouted, his discolored eyes flaring. Orlock finished the twitching lord and dropped him in his chair before turning to Gabriel.

“Greetings Jonus.” Orlock grinned. “Have you come to be knighted into thew service of your lord?”

“Shut up you sick bastard!” he roared, desperately fighting back tears. Orlock may have been unstable but he had been a friend for so many centuries. It was kiloing Gabriel to see this happening. Orlock read his emotions clearly and stepped forward off the throne down the long walk towards the shaking Gabriel.

“Come now Jonus, you knew as well as I did that these vampires were weak at heart. They couldn’t come to terms with the world shaping around them. Vampires are the unspoken rulers of this earth and yet they hid in the shadows like rats, holding back the toll of evolution. Now our kind will be free to openly rule, without the ignorance of the mass public. You are part of the natural selection Jonus, the survival of the fittest.”

“Enough! I’m sick of this goddamned philosophy of yours Max. Nothing is ever enough for you. You can’t always have everything you desire. I was here to help you, to defend you from them. Now It’s too late. I’m sorry but you’ve crossed the line and are beyond my help.”

“Of course Jonus.” Orlock grinned. “Always the good little Templar. How sad that you’re as blind as the fool back there.” He beckoned towards the body of lord Arcturus. “If you feel however that you need to avenge his worthless existence, then I’m here. Serve your judgment Jonus!”

“You will refer to me as High Templar Gabriel!” With that Gabriel attacked. Even Orlock was impressed with the speed of his friend. Gabriel slammed Orlock into the wall behind the thrones. He then whipped him twenty feet into the air off the ceiling and used his mana to blast him against the far wall. After picking himself up and brushing himself off Orlock grinned.

“Excellent Jonus. I may even enjoy this with you!” The two clashed in the center of the great hall. No quarter was asked or given. Jonus was fueled by his rage but he couldn’t hit the more powerful Orlock. The battle was taken from the floor, to the walls and ceiling. Explosions from the surface began to rain rubble down around the two combatants but they still stayed focused on eachother. It wasn’t until a large piece of marble from the ceiling crashed between them that Gabriel lost his concentration. It was more than enough for Orlock to take his advantage and send Gabriel flying into the steps at the base of Lord Arcturus’s throne. Orlock walked calmly through the hailing debris towards Gabriel.

“An excellent fight Jonus. But surely you’re not spent yet!” Gabriel saw the shadows of the room being drawn to Orlocks presence. He didn’t have long to act anymore. He was exhausted and badly hurt. He still had to defeat Orlock somehow. He waited until the last possible moment to mave as Orlock unleashed a deadly mana burst in his direction. The Steps were turned to rubble in an instant. Orlock was in and about the debris in an instant to claim Gabriel body only to find it gone. He turned however just in time to see Gabriel again with sword in hand stabbing fiercely in his direction. The blade passed through Orlocks stomach but to Gabriel’s dismay it barely effected his adversary. Orlock broke the blade at the base of the hilt and then proceeded to break Gabriels arm. Gabriel collapsed to the floor wailing in agony. Orlock stood over him chuckling at his friends pain. The chuckling ended however when a n enourmous slab of concrete and steel broke through the ceiling directly above the two of them. Both dove for cover. Gabriel was not as successful as Orlock. His legs were pinned beneath the rubble and he was to weak to pull free. The pain in his arm was to the point that he couldn’t stand it much longer but deep down he still struggled to break free. Orlock watched his friend struggle and saw the rage in his eyes. He watched Gabriel claw at the ground to pull himself free to no avail. Then Orlock smiled again. He kneeled in front of the helpless Gabriel, his eyes red as the blood forming around the trapped vampire.

“I’m quite impressed with you Jonus.” Orlock said. “You’ve shown some promise where the roaches you served had nothing. That’s why I’m sparing you now my friend.” Orlock stood and began to leave. “I’m leaving this continent Jonus, the expanse of Europe seems far more promising to me. Perhaps, once you get out of the mess you’re in now you’ll rebuild this sad excuse of an Empire into what it used to be. I however must look to my own domains. Until the next time Templar!”

Gabriel resumed his struggle to lift the tattered ruins holding him down. He couldn’t tell if it was mere minutes or a full hour that passed but he was slowly giving up the struggle. He was ready to lay down and let death take him again until he felt the pressure on his legs slowly release. He looked about frantically to see what the cause was but couldn’t. Soon the rubble trapping him was removed and he was helped to his feet by Amy and the templars he had left to defend the entrance.

“Jonus, are you alright?” Amy asked. Gabriel looked at each of the templars in the room and then back at amy before he nodded his head yes.

“What happened here sir?” One of the templar asked.

“The vampire nation is dead.” Another said

“Not while I’m still around.” Gabriel said shrugging off the templars holding him up. It hurt to stand on his legs but he fought through the pain and stood tall. “This is little more than a wake up call to us for being so naïve. We’ll rebuild and carry on even if we have to go over the bodies of our own kind to do so, but we will rebuild.” Gabriel then took amys hand, and accompanied by the templar left the complex and the burning city of Philadelphia behind.

Two nights had passed since the Philadelphia riot occurred and now it was sweeping into the countryside. In a town some thirty miles north of Gettysburg, a lone figure prowled the night. He wore a gray trench coat over his black clothing, with his silver hair blowing in the cool summer breeze. He’d been craving mortal blood for days now, though he had feasted on that of the vampire lords. He roamed the shadows coming to the first house he saw a man in his twenties come out the back door. He had long jet black hair that flew in the breeze. An ideal specimen indeed, Orlock thought to himself. Something however called him inside the house, a third sense he had developed. Inside he creeped in the shadows, observing a beautiful girl watching television. He saw on the news the burning city of Philadelphia, and he smiled. The girl was his prime candidate for an evening meal, but the scent of innocence drew him still further into the house, to a nursery. There he saw a sleeping child, an angel of sorts. He couldn’t restrain himself, but when he picked up the child it began to wail. The wailing was sweet in his ears and he listened to it like it where a symphony. Then he heard a far more satisfying shriek behind him as the girl appeared in the doorway. She was joined by her husband and the two made him forget about the sweet whining of the child as he reveled in the fear emanating from the parents. He had to heighten the sensation, so he cut the baby’s throat.

“NO!!!!” the girl shrieked. Orlock took in the entire scream like a fine wine. Then he saw her eyes, they were beautiful, perfect in every way, and he had to have them. In an instant he was on her, the force of his attack sent the two crashing into the living room of the house, smashing the television. The husband came charging from behind to kick him. He caught it easily and in a single punch sent the husband tumbling across the room. That’s when he heard his name.

“Jack!” the girl squeaked.

“Emily run!” He shouted back. But Orlock was upon her, he ripped her apart in one deft motion. Jacks shock was a beautiful sensation. He sat there frozen in disbelief muttering to him-self. Something about this Jack was quite appealing to Orlock as he remembered what Gabriel had said to him several nights before:

“There’s a lot of vampires making sires these days. One might even consider making one in light of the old times.”

Orlock looked at the Perfect eye in his hand and then looked at the muttering Jack. Perhaps you’re right Gabriel, Orlock thought as he flung the eye at Jack. The world does need a better vampire of the old times. Orlock crept up on the terrified Jack.

Jack was staring at Emily’s eye in shock.

“This isn’t happening, I’m still asleep. I’m just dreaming.” He tried to reassure himself.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Orlock Whispered in his ear. “Perhaps this is a dream. Perhaps in real life, you went insane and you killed your family, and this is nothing but an illusion of your psyche. A vampire Phantasm you could call it.” Orlock then bit him, draining him of all but the last few drops of precious blood. “You’re name is Jack, correct? Well Jack, you don’t seem to have anything better to do, So I think you’d make an excellent vampire.” Orlock then cut his wrist and held it to Jacks lips. “Drink.” He orderd.