evaporated at suddenly as it had come as he stood inside the dark interior.
The enormous vampire guided him slowly with one hand, fingers cupped around his neck. The Mayor was surprised that the vampire made not a sound as they walked through the old bar, despite his prestigious size. He desperately didn’t want to be here at all, but was left with little option but to walk slowly toward the hypnotising music.
Once a place of joy, entertainment and courteous service, the hotel now was a place of madness, darkness and fear. As they approached the large, heavily engraved, sliding wooden doors the strong fingers tightened just a little, bringing the Mayor sharply to a halt, fingers digging into his fat neck. The door was slid open just a crack and the Mayor could hear the music even more clearly. He tried to swallow again but found it difficult with Kadir’s large hand round his neck, his massive fingers half covering his throat.
Kadir stepped in front of him, still with one hand firmly on his neck and carefully slid the door open a fraction more with the tip of one long nail. As he did the sound of music increased in volume slightly, filling the Mayor’s head with the haunting sound of Prokofiev’s ‘Montagues and Capulets’. The Mayor wasn’t one for classical music but he recognised the piece as it played from somewhere deep inside the room beyond.
‘We’ll have to wait a minute.’ Kadir whispered almost absently as he stared through the crack in the doorway letting go of the Mayor’s neck.
The Mayor blinked in the dim light and, with curiosity getting the better of him, peered around the large frame of Kadir. Through the open doorway he could see the ornate, almost oriental looking, restaurant. It was lit with an eerie mix of candles and oil lamps and he could smell the distinctive smell of kerosene. In a way it was the smell that shocked him most, oil was a rare commodity these days and it was rare to see so much oil being burned at once. The distant hum of a generator provided background accompaniment to the music that played on an old turntable against the far wall.
In the centre of the long oblong shaped room, the Mayor could see six masked figures, all female, all wearing hardly any clothes, as they danced, round and round, sending giant shadows flickering across the walls and ceiling. Around the pirouetting women, a number of vampires watched, with other figures lying by them. The sound of guttural laughter bounced from the tall walls all around, underscored by a constant background chattering that emanated from the shadows at the far end where once exquisite food was prepared. The shadows seemed darker than black, thought the Mayor morbidly, his mouth now completely dry.
Heavy, dust caked curtains were pulled tightly closed. There was an old armchair in the Mayor’s line of sight. On it lounged a tall, lanky vampire with pale, almost white skin, his long, light coloured hair draped across the back of the chair as his hand skipped in time to the music. Suddenly as if he sensed them, his albino eyes flicked towards the Mayor and fixed him intently through the gap. The Mayor started and pulled back, his heart in his mouth, and then trying to control his breathing, shifted his position slightly so that he was behind Kadir’s bulk and so those eyes were no longer visible. Nothing else in the room seemed to notice him, or Kadir.
Feeling like a voyeur, the Mayor absently licked his lips as he watched the young girl kneeling in front of the legs of the pale skinned vampire, he knew she was one of a number of concubines chosen to provide service, their standing in life simply to await the commands of their vampire Lord. Around her pretty and slender neck she wore a leather band, a simple cover for the two bite marks that he knew sat just below the surface. They would have come from the ritual of ownership, where the vampire Lord would puncture the concubine’s neck, but not take a taste of blood, lest they
The enormous vampire guided him slowly with one hand, fingers cupped around his neck. The Mayor was surprised that the vampire made not a sound as they walked through the old bar, despite his prestigious size. He desperately didn’t want to be here at all, but was left with little option but to walk slowly toward the hypnotising music.
Once a place of joy, entertainment and courteous service, the hotel now was a place of madness, darkness and fear. As they approached the large, heavily engraved, sliding wooden doors the strong fingers tightened just a little, bringing the Mayor sharply to a halt, fingers digging into his fat neck. The door was slid open just a crack and the Mayor could hear the music even more clearly. He tried to swallow again but found it difficult with Kadir’s large hand round his neck, his massive fingers half covering his throat.
Kadir stepped in front of him, still with one hand firmly on his neck and carefully slid the door open a fraction more with the tip of one long nail. As he did the sound of music increased in volume slightly, filling the Mayor’s head with the haunting sound of Prokofiev’s ‘Montagues and Capulets’. The Mayor wasn’t one for classical music but he recognised the piece as it played from somewhere deep inside the room beyond.
‘We’ll have to wait a minute.’ Kadir whispered almost absently as he stared through the crack in the doorway letting go of the Mayor’s neck.
The Mayor blinked in the dim light and, with curiosity getting the better of him, peered around the large frame of Kadir. Through the open doorway he could see the ornate, almost oriental looking, restaurant. It was lit with an eerie mix of candles and oil lamps and he could smell the distinctive smell of kerosene. In a way it was the smell that shocked him most, oil was a rare commodity these days and it was rare to see so much oil being burned at once. The distant hum of a generator provided background accompaniment to the music that played on an old turntable against the far wall.
In the centre of the long oblong shaped room, the Mayor could see six masked figures, all female, all wearing hardly any clothes, as they danced, round and round, sending giant shadows flickering across the walls and ceiling. Around the pirouetting women, a number of vampires watched, with other figures lying by them. The sound of guttural laughter bounced from the tall walls all around, underscored by a constant background chattering that emanated from the shadows at the far end where once exquisite food was prepared. The shadows seemed darker than black, thought the Mayor morbidly, his mouth now completely dry.
Heavy, dust caked curtains were pulled tightly closed. There was an old armchair in the Mayor’s line of sight. On it lounged a tall, lanky vampire with pale, almost white skin, his long, light coloured hair draped across the back of the chair as his hand skipped in time to the music. Suddenly as if he sensed them, his albino eyes flicked towards the Mayor and fixed him intently through the gap. The Mayor started and pulled back, his heart in his mouth, and then trying to control his breathing, shifted his position slightly so that he was behind Kadir’s bulk and so those eyes were no longer visible. Nothing else in the room seemed to notice him, or Kadir.
Feeling like a voyeur, the Mayor absently licked his lips as he watched the young girl kneeling in front of the legs of the pale skinned vampire, he knew she was one of a number of concubines chosen to provide service, their standing in life simply to await the commands of their vampire Lord. Around her pretty and slender neck she wore a leather band, a simple cover for the two bite marks that he knew sat just below the surface. They would have come from the ritual of ownership, where the vampire Lord would puncture the concubine’s neck, but not take a taste of blood, lest they
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