Whisper My Name

[reiver33]

I really wanted to call this 'Low Winter Sun' (it's a film), or 'Sunset Song' (it's a book) or even 'Thane of Night' (too trite), so I settled on the above. This is a bit outside my usual comfort zone as I'm not really into the supernatural as such, although I have enjoyed shows like Apparitions and Ultarviolet, but other postings got me thinking on what it would take for a universally despised and haunted creature to survive in the modern world.

Anyway, once more into the free-fire zone of this jolly forum!

Cheers,

Martin

 

[reiver33]

One

Nobody likes a smart-arse with fangs.

The parting comment from my (now) ex-girlfriend never seemed more true. I was in the stygian car park beneath my office block, facing two heavy-set men wielding sledgehammers - with the handles sharpened into stakes. For a moment I considered legging it back to the car, but it’s an Alfa Romeo and I really didn’t want them waling on the bodywork or smashing in the windows. My options were a bit limited.

I shot the nearest guy three times in the chest and he didn’t even blink.

Damnation – I was up against two meat jobs while the wire heads running them were safely tucked away someplace; vicarious sensory experience with all of the thrills and none of the spills. The ‘guy’ I shot looked down at the bullet holes – a pretty tight grouping under the circumstances, even though I say it myself – and grinned. The reek from at least two units of blood poured over the concrete had almost turned me; my incisors were at full length and I had the near uncontrollable urge to give them a blast of snarling defiance. A really great defence mechanism and one that makes me wonder how vampires have lasted this long.

I managed a tight-lipped smile in return, thumbed up the secondary safety on my gun and depressed the small red button.

The three explosive rounds set to command detonation ripped his torso in two, spraying milky white arterial fluid over his companion and the surrounding cars. As the severed body parts fell to the ground with wet thuds I allowed myself a brief sigh of relief – at least I hadn’t offed a real person into body renting – and switched my attention to contestant number two.

He had no chance of reaching me or hurling his hammer with any realistic chance of success, so he contented himself with giving me the finger and severed the link, letting the body fall in a heap like the proverbial stringless puppet. I stuffed the gun back into my coat pocket and made a sharpish exit via the staff lift.

Once the doors closed I gave myself two quick blasts from a nasal inhaler which both shuts down my sense of smell and is supposed to off-set the bloodlust. The feeling as my teeth withdrew isn’t one I can readily describe, but try and imagine an extraction in reverse. The reek of gunshot residue hung to my overcoat so I removed it, folding it almost inside out to try and contain the smell, trusting that my suit jacket was closed tight enough to hide my sweat-soaked shirt.

Having exchanged the usual abusive pleasantries with the departing back shift I slumped at my desk and logged in for a ten-hour (solo) stint of technical support. Although I don’t have direct access to the in-house surveillance systems I could scan for alerts and was satisfied that the entire incident had escaped our eagle-eyed security staff, who rarely bothered to watch the monitors anyway. However, given that the company car park was fairly well covered by CCTV I guessed that my two ‘hunters’ had chosen the venue with an eye towards seeing the footage of their kill on YouTube or similar, so it was in my best interests to get the Police involved without delay.

I eventually connected to their website and was rewarded by a two-way video feed of an obviously exasperated constable nearing the end of his shift.

“Thank you for contacting Police Interactive. I am Constable McGuire, one of the active response team; can you state briefly the nature of your call?”

“My name is John Balfour and I wish to report an attempted mugging.”

There was a slight pause while he consulted his screen.

“The system you are using employs a biometric security log-on and this data tallies with our own facial recognition procedures. However, to confirm your identity could you kindly quote the last four digits of your personal identification code as shown on your card.”

“Two, one, one, two.”

“Thank you, Mr. Balfour. Where and when did this alleged assault take place?”

“A few minutes ago, say ten to ten, in the basement car park where I work. The address…”

“I have the address details in front of me, sir. HanaMed Biotech Incorporated, one four five Kirkland Street?”

“Yes, just before I started work. The whole thing should be on our CCTV…”

“Ahead of you sir, HanaMed security protocols conform to the UKLE standard and I am accessing the database now. Let me just pop you on hold while I review the footage.”

He vanished to be replaced by a rotating shield logo and I sat back, satisfied that I was coming over exactly like Mr. Concerned Citizen. Shortly thereafter he reappeared, but his manner was noticeably curter.

“Thank you for waiting, sir. I have looked at the incident using a virtual crime scene constructed from the footage supplied by your employer. May I ask if you are licensed to carry a concealed firearm?”

I gave him my best, reassuring, ‘I-get-this-all-the-time’ smile.

“If you check my Additions you will see that I hold a diplomatic licence issued on behalf of the Scottish Consulate. I occasionally work for them in a close escort role.”

“One moment please while I access the Home Office network. Ah, yes, I see.”

His system obviously prompted him to try a ‘bloke to bloke’ approach and he adopted a relaxed grin.

“No problem sir, it’s just that we’re understandably leery of private citizens going around tooled up with heavy artillery, plus the nature of the attack looked a bit suss. There wasn’t any personal motive behind the attack, was there?”

“Well, Constable, if you like just shunt me into the queue for CID as I’m sure they would appreciate a high-profile case like this to alleviate their boredom.”

“No need for that attitude, sir, I was only asking. Well, the CPS expert system has offset the illegal discharge of a firearm in a public place against an obvious case of self defence, so you won’t be facing any charges. We’ll have someone turn out to scan the ‘bodies’ for serial numbers and if there are any further developments someone will get back to you.”

“But realistically speaking, don’t hold my breath?”

“Thank you for contacting Police Interactive. Together we’re making the future a safer place.”

The screen went blank then to the HanaMed logo. I was satisfied that this wasn’t going anywhere, and given the ‘amateur hour’ attack I was fairly sure that my two hunters were probably something like trainee estate agents from Slough. As they had used blood to bring me out I obviously wasn’t on the list of confirmed blood-suckers, and fairly low on the list of ‘possibles’ to boot. Still, the whole incident was a bit worrying for someone in my position

I decided I had to go to Church.

 

[Michael01]

Very nice! While it might need a few minor adjustments, this is very good. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Now, wait for the nit-pickers...

Oh, can we see a little more?

 

[BookStop]

Nice, Reiver. Interesting, entertaining, and not a cliche in sight. That isn't easy given the popularity of paranormal thrillers now-a-days.

 

[The Procrastinator]

Not normally into vampires, but I wanted to read more of this. Smart arse indeed, nice and snappy.

 

[Boneman]

Look, there's not much point in putting up pieces to be critiqued, if there's nothing to critique, is there??

'Waling' on the bodywork - do you know I have no idea how that word should be spelt, is that correct? Whaling?

Someone will tell you about changes of tenses (proabably) but it won't be me. The whole piece works incredibly well, and I think you've done a fantastic job. I'm not into vampire-type things, but the take you've put on it makes me want to read more.

Well done. If you can keep this up, you have a really good story there. Won't the police who investigate worry about the two pints of blood on the floor, or did the mechanical man's innards nullify it?

 

[Nik]

Nicely done !!

Could probably benefit from a couple of tiny tweaks but, IMHO, it is better than most of my writing.

I'll PM you with a link to my take on 'Plausible Vampires'....

 

[reiver33]

Thanks for the feedback - this is just a quick reply as I'm on an unexpected day shift (thought it was tomorrow) and I've had several hours sleep...

I think 'waling' is the correct form of 'to wale' - striking as to raise wales or welts - but I'll stand corrected! Sorry about the tense slipping (again) - always a problem when I'm rattling away in the early hours. And yes, our 'hero' has forgotten about the blood...

Cheers,

Martin

 

[Michael01]

Yep. From Merriam-Webster Online:

wale Function: transitive verb Inflected Form(s): waled; wal·ing Date: 15th century : to mark (as the skin) with welts

When I read it here I wasn't sure either. In fact, I thought it was slang. Looks like it isn't.

 

[dreir]

Look, there's not much point in putting up pieces to be critiqued, if there's nothing to critique, is there??

He's got a point, you know.. (and I'm not gonna be the one doing any nitpicking).

You have a knack for immersing yourself completely in your originally created worlds, and in so doing drawing your readers along with you. We can't help but to feel like we're there in person. And you have great 'voice'.

As I've said somewhere else before, you're a writer who's been somehow overlooked by the publishing industry. You've got to get yourself published, man - you'll be a breath of fresh air that'll do the whole industry good.

- Dreir -

 

[sloweye]

Even as a dyslexic i can spot one mistake :

but it’s an Alfa Romeo and I really didn’t want them waling on the bodywork or smashing in the windows.

Should read:


but it’s an Alfa Romeo and I really didn’t think it would start

No but seriously, its really good.

 

[Saeltari]

Enjoyed the flow. I was a little thown by a couple of things. He isn't supposed to be known as a fanged one? The recording check by the police, I am assuming, will get him in trouble later?

 

[reiver33]

As I'm on dayshift (ah! the light, the light!) I haven't had time for another episode (sorry), although things might be slower over the weekend. Anyway, thanks for the feedback - and I appreciate the comment on choice of car!

Martin

PS His fangs only extend when he smells human blood.
PPS He's a Catholic vampire

 

[Boneman]

By Reiver
PPS He's a Catholic vampire

Now I'm really interested..... all you have to do to get free publicity around the world and sell millions is to get the Catholic church to come out against this slanderous, nay libellous, slur on their good name, and you'll be made for life. (Won't be able to go to confession ever again, though.....)

ps:but it’s an Alfa Romeo and I really didn’t think it would start

That made me laugh out loud...good one sloweye!

 

[reiver33]

Two

Before anything else though I had to square-away my end in anticipation of the Police report finally reaching a HanaMed manager who actually cared. I rang the security desk who answered after only twenty-seven rings, so I guess the satellite football and/or porn wasn’t grabbing their attention that evening.

“Wat jew wan?”

My spirits sank when I realised just who was on duty, but I decided to try the ‘bright and breezy’ approach anyway.

“Tony, my man! Good to hear you again, this is John Balfour down in technical support. Look, I’m really sorry to bother you but there was a bit of an incident down in the employee’s car park and, basically, two meat jobs have ended up on the tarmac. I know you’ll have contacted the Police already, and my additional call to them will have just filled in a few details, but I think we can expect a visit from PC Plod in the near future. In the meantime, can I ask a big, big favour and get you to put out a few cones round the bodies?”

“Busy”.

“And of course I appreciate that, Tony, but although it’s not really a crime scene I’m sure the boys in blue will get a bit narked if the cleaning crew try and tidy thing up down there – and neither of us need the hassle, do we?”

Long pause.

“Yeah, OK.”

“Thanks, man! That’s one I…” but I was speaking to dead air.

I hung up and killed the strip lights, trying to relax in the warm blue glow of multiple screensavers while my head felt like there was a poker jammed through my right eye. Celebrating the Eucharist is the only sure-fire way I’ve found to alleviate the after-effects of an unquenched bloodlust episode, but I couldn’t just ring up the on-call priest and nip out for an impromptu Communion.

Well, actually, I could, given that most of the critical kit had expert system exception handling and hardware redundancy you wouldn’t believe, but I just knew that if I sloped off, even for a few hours, it would end in the proverbial solids meets turbine situation.

The HanaMed research facilities were manned round the clock, even if it was only some hapless lab technician monitoring a bubbling test-tube, but they would be a tad miffed if a project went down the pan because I wasn’t there to answer a ‘yes/no’ prompt. So all I could do was try a combination of migraine meds washed down with a mouthful of the cheap Spanish vodka that Brian from the day shift keeps behind the SQL manuals.

Still, I really needed it, and I knew that the Church would receive me with open arms, even if I just turned up on the doorstep, as we have this real love-hate relationship. Well, the ‘hate’ bit you can understand; all that running around, biting people, agents of eternal damnation thing – nothing really they can approve of.

The ‘love’ thing is a bit more complicated – isn’t it always? – but, basically, I’m absolute living proof that Jesus Christ died for our sins and was resurrected. When an unblemished vampire like me, one who hasn’t tasted human blood, celebrates the Eucharist, the Transubstantiation is literal and real; wine into blood, bread into flesh.

I have tasted the Saviour.

It’s unimaginable to a normal human, that coppery tasting kick to the balls and then it’s all fangs and euphoria and apparently pretty damn awesome to watch. If you ever meet a Priest who seems insufferably smug then he’s probably witnessed a vampire take Communion, and the temptation for them to bitch-slap every other religion on the planet with this knowledge must we well-nigh intolerable.

The problem for the Church is that proof undercuts faith, and faith is the cornerstone of devotion. Not only that, but parading vampires on the world stage is pretty much an admission that the Devil and all his works exist – and that would be a temptation too far for many. So they hide us away, their guilty little pleasure, their guilty little secret.

- - - - -​

Back in the here and now, time passed.

The phone rang and I could see it was from the security desk.

“Just buzzed in a couple of plods asking for you. Got them in reception.”

“Thanks, Tony, could you send them up to nine and I’ll catch them there?”

Dial tone, which I took as a ‘yes’.

I met them outside the lifts and took them to the hospitality suite; subdued lighting, soft furnishings, pot plants – which were far more convivial surroundings than my cramped work station, and at least you didn’t have to move a bundle of manuals, software and indeterminate PC parts off of a chair every time you wanted a seat. My guests were both in heavy overcoats over protective vests and came over almost as father-and-son. They introduced themselves as Detective Sergeant Loudon – middle aged, care-worn face, crumpled suit – and Detective Constable Perry – lanky, ache-ridden and obviously aping the mannerisms of the older officer. Once we were seated I tried a modest charm offensive.

“Thank you for responding so quickly, officers, and while you are here may I offer you some refreshments? Tea, coffee, something stronger, although I appreciate you are still on duty?”

Loudon glanced at his watch.

“I’ll take a whiskey, ice if you have it, he’ll have a coke.”

I pillaged the minibar and joined them with a Stella. The sergeant fished out a real, paper notebook while Perry had a more traditional hand-held. Loudon downed his drink in a oner and flipped through a few pages of notes.

“Right, sir, we’ve traced the two pleasure bodies downstairs to a local rental parlour. The hire was in the name of ‘Donald Thompson’, with an address in Inverness. Does that name seem at all familiar, you both being Scottish, an all?”

I gave him my best rueful smile.

“I’m sorry Sergeant, doesn’t ring any bells. Inverness wasn’t one of my old haunts when I lived ‘up north’, and I’ve been down here several years now. Perhaps our paths crossed at university – do you have anything else to go on?”

“Well, we’ve referred it to our ‘Scottish Brethren’ for further investigation, but these cross-border requests take a bit longer these days. Could well be a case of identity fraud anyway, in which case this will go to Data Division and I’ll be drawing a pension before those lazy sods reply.”

He sat back, seemingly a bit mellowed but his eyes were sharply focused.

“However, sir, on checking the car park we discovered a large blood stain, human blood, and the CCTV footage shows your two ‘assailants’ throwing what appears to be bags of the stuff about with gay abandon. Would you care to comment on that?”

Bugger.

 

[sloweye]

“Tony, my man! Good to hear you again, this is John Balfour down in technical support. Look, I’m really sorry to bother you but there was a bit of an incident down in the employee’s car park and, basically, two meat jobs have ended up on the tarmac. I know you’ll have contacted the Police already, and my additional call to them will have just filled in a few details, but I think we can expect a visit from PC Plod in the near future. In the meantime, can I ask a big, big favour and get you to put out a few cones round the bodies?”

I would change this to 'Meat heads' but thats just an opinion.

I met them outside the lifts and took them to the hospitality suite; subdued lighting, soft furnishings, pot plants – which were far more convivial surroundings than my cramped work station, and at least you didn’t have to move a bundle of manuals, software and indeterminate PC parts off of a chair every time you wanted a seat. My guests were both in heavy overcoats over protective vests and came over almost as father-and-son. They introduced themselves as Detective Sergeant Loudon – middle aged, care-worn face, crumpled suit – and Detective Constable Perry – lanky, ache-ridden and obviously aping the mannerisms of the older officer. Once we were seated I tried a modest charm offensive.

“Thank you for responding so quickly, officers, and while you are here may I offer you some refreshments? Tea, coffee, something stronger, although I appreciate you are still on duty?”

Loudon glanced at his watch.

“I’ll take a whiskey, ice if you have it, he’ll have a coke.”

I pillaged the minibar and joined them with a Stella. The sergeant fished out a real, paper notebook while Perry had a more traditional hand-held. Loudon downed his drink in a oner and flipped through a few pages of notes.

“Right, sir, we’ve traced the two pleasure bodies downstairs to a local rental parlour. The hire was in the name of ‘Donald Thompson’, with an address in Inverness. Does that name seem at all familiar, you both being Scottish, an all?”

I gave him my best rueful smile.

“I’m sorry Sergeant, doesn’t ring any bells. Inverness wasn’t one of my old haunts when I lived ‘up north’, and I’ve been down here several years now. Perhaps our paths crossed at university – do you have anything else to go on?”

“Well, we’ve referred it to our ‘Scottish Brethren’ for further investigation, but these cross-border requests take a bit longer these days. Could well be a case of identity fraud anyway, in which case this will go to Data Division and I’ll be drawing a pension before those lazy sods reply.”

Can i ask when this is set?
its just a D.S. & a D.C. in stab vests dosent sound right as the drinking on duty thing would set my mind in to 1970's time period.

But apart from these little bits i really enjoyed it again.

 

[Boneman]

At last, something to nitpick!!! This writing is so damn good that it feels like a real victory of the highest magnitude to find something.....

and Detective Constable Perry – lanky, ache-ridden and obviously aping the mannerisms of the older officer.

That must be 'acne-ridden' surely? High fives all round.......

Reiver, in all seriousness, I think you ought to consider not putting any more up. I'm sure you've read the guidelines, and it does talk about publishers not being keen on taking on a project that's already been in the public domain, so to speak. Anyone can view these forums, and it would be a real shame if your work suffered because of this. Personally and selfishly, I want to read more and more, but I also want to see this book in print, it's where it deserves to be: I'd put it alongside Neil Gaiman if you can keep it up for a whole book, and I've bought all his books just because he's the author. Maybe pick those you like and PM them if you want critiques. As I (sort of)said earlier, there's damn-all to critique, anyway!!

Damn fine work.....

I’m sure the boys in blue will get a bit narked if the cleaning crew try and tidy thing up down there

'things'???

 

[MistingWolf]

I believe it's "whaling" on the bodywork. Really nice!

Wow, only 27 rings? Whoa ^^;

I met them outside the lifts and took them to the hospitality suite; subdued lighting, soft furnishings, pot plants –

Pot plants, like for drugs, or potted plants?

My guests were both in heavy overcoats over protective vests and came over almost as father-and-son.

It took me a bit to understand this. "...overcoats over protective vests..." That's what threw me, and the end about the father-and-son thing. Perhaps change the sentence around a little? My suggestion: "My guests, who were both wearing protective vests beneath heavy overcoats, came across as though they were father and son." My own edit might need some work, but I can personally understand it better, if this is what you meant.

Overall, aside from some minor grammatical flaws, it was a great read, and the end was funny ^^ I hope to read more, though I agree with Boneman. Yet, I'm being hypocritical since my own work is posted up at a different site, though I'm planning to have it removed once I'm ready for publishing. If there's a way I could read more, say through email or something of that sort, it'd be great. I really like how this is going.

 

[dreir]

'things'???

Lol.. Good job, Bman!

And Wolfy I believe 'waling vs whaling' has been explained in an earlier post.

Reiver's said somewhere that he writes just for fun and never wants to send in his stories to the publishers. Wouldn't that be a real shame? Let's all badger him and try to persuade him otherwise. And make him stop posting his stories here. I'm willing to make that sacrifice if it means him getting published.

- Dreir -

 

[Boneman]

By Mistingwolf

Yet, I'm being hypocritical since my own work is posted up at a different site, though I'm planning to have it removed once I'm ready for publishing.

And it's a damn good read.... the difference is that you control that site, Misti, but once they're up here on the chrons, they stay here. Although a mod might say different?

Maybe you should take advice Reiver, I might be being (be being??) over-protective, but with writing this good, it's not worth taking the chance IMHO. Sorry to slightly hijack the thread, but there's still so damn little critiquing to do!!!!

By Dreir

Reiver's said somewhere that he writes just for fun and never wants to send in his stories to the publishers. Wouldn't that be a real shame? Let's all badger him and try to persuade him otherwise. And make him stop posting his stories here.[/QUOTE

]

Ah, didn't know that.....in that case I could steal all his work and have it published under my name....oops, did I say that out loud? The ideas he has are just so original, and written so well that it would be a crime if another (less talented) writer stole those ideas and got somewhere with them. Just do it, Reiver!!!