NECROPLICE

Cynthia was a sample queen, you know the type that survives by going place to place, eating samples and using freebies, find here at weddings funerals and bar mitzvah Apparently she was fairly good at it.” The reverend looking solemn in flat black as usual. Nods toward the rather obese woman in the summer flowery print dress. She was large, in fact huge by most standards, Only in the necropolis could a lament to the dead be giving in the comedic style. Reverend Oslo was one of the best, and to beat it all he was the damn finest alto- sax player in this grey lump of a city .“I could name her attributes, but I've so much time I need something a little more substantial.” A spattering of snickers and a nose laugh could be heard. They were only warming up The drunken festivities would go on through the night.“ I knew her mother…well who didn’t?” He almost stumbled on the tired line purposely For what is a funny funeral without a good round of heckling? How are the grievers to mourn without a good heckle? A man in the second row; why is it always a man in the second row? “That’s an old one reverend!” “Boo” "Boo" Boo’s where never mean just jovial The crowd knew they had come to the heckling stage of the services and welcomed it. So there was much laughter when Cynthia’s daughter stood up and screamed “Are we burying my mother or your jokes? ”Even the Reverend buckled down to guffaw at the podium. “Oh God he laughed. It wasn’t the type of funeral you would see on the other planets, nothing in Necropolis was quite like anywhere else…It was all so surreal here. Reverend remembered coming here from Earth, not in his own memory but through the memory of his Mother Had she fully understood the involvement of coming here she wouldn’t have. It wasn’t worth dying for! You see the reverend and all citizens living in the necropolis dome on Venus 3 station have died. As the only way of living in these environs is to be induced into death 48 hours exactly after your arrival A chemical death, a virus to symbiotically 'enhance' the disease. This kills the virus that lives in the very air here. Kills it complete you have been mutated genetically because of the virus! To understand this more clearly they called it the Venusians Vampire Virus triple V old 15 Before the wars and upheavals of the system occupation synthetic bloods and bi clones where brought in. During that era the biclones where hunted and killed for food. This gave rise to the biclonic vampire epidemics, which wiped out thousands on both sides The virus was created to kill off a breed of humans genetically bred as live stock for the vampire breeds that worked the planets mines The vampirism itself a genetically enhanced trait to give the population extended lives The reason I'm trying to explain this is that even though some of us are really nice people We have been raised as blood drinkers and are primary food source is specifically bio clones. But we have been raised to think of them more in terms of Free-range cattle ….as it were. An earth human think of them with a status compatible to their own. We eat ‘normal’ food as well; it just doesn’t sustain our immortality. Sample ladies in floral patterned summer dresses matching Cynthia’s but in various pastel colors, Waded through the crowd with trays of tidbits and samples confections and concoctions. As the ceremonies drew to a close and the Reverend picked up his infamous alto sax The crowd began to mill and turn towards the nearest tavern…her favorite drinking whole The Spotted Dick Named after some long forgotten novel, which in turn named it after some long forgotten locally legendary Tavern. Now the gathering place of mourners as most assuredly the original tavern once was. Only one small thing stood out to the lines waltzing in small macabre colorful swirling circles of over painted faces, horns tooting vibrant colors dance on rough cobblestone with a grey stone back drop it looked almost like medieval earth. Clowns in tuxedos and bearded ladies pranced across the street of the little town square. All dressed as if it where a circus for the circus, and her favorite song lyric was being sweetly poured out by the best alto sax on this planet. Like a melancholy Dane set inside a film noir, camp, vamp and cliché ruled the night! “If that’s all there is my friend then lets keep dancing, lets break out the booze and have a real good time "It was ancient, older than this place older than time 'we 'know. Everything here is taken from some other place Everything here is a shadow of a memory of a place doomed to despair and agony. We are wraiths. Only the fading twilight could shadow the lives that drift in silent slumbers deep The lives we could have had. Should have had, would have had. If we where in firm control of our destinies unfortunately fortune plays us all the fool. A black rectangle appears, as the tavern doors swing open. The song stops and cheer's arise with the swaying of the huge corpse being borne into the musty bar. The body being placed in the ancient looking devises being lowered from the dark timbered ceiling. Its various spikes and needles the chrome lined spillways and channels will carry every drop of blood from her body into the tubes hanging limply down in silent observation of the Rites of Blood Letting. To the waiting maw of her friends and relatives, licking up their fills of her essence, Allowing her to be freed in spirit and still continue on in the flesh their flesh. Once she has been raised up and impaled upon the spikes her immortality would flow. Standing in the doorway the reverend was black on black With a rectangle behind him of light Two other men dark grey on black shadows slip into the rectangle of light As he begins the ceremony in dour tones of parting sadness. Hat brims shade their eyes from view but they do not fit in. The comfort of the Strangers is the discomfort of the gathered mourners They are more than vampires. They are shadow less. They are the Necro police. They sniff and hunt in the dank allies of ones mind And WHEN they catch you they don’t just feed from you or execute. They devour you and destroy your soul forever! The burly bouncer steps between them and the crowd. “Were not going to have any problems are we gentlemen? ”When it’s obvious there isn’t an answer forthcoming from the overcoat-clad men in black He wipes his hands on a damp towel folded over a worn apron and gestures toward the group hovering around the body protectively “Listen it’s a funeral…” easily brushed aside as the two move past him right up to the center of the activity. In the glow of the oil lamps a pitched yellow hue plays enough light to see the taller of the two is human…the other is not, They stepped up to the Preacher and made a motion to quiet a gesture with his hand to settle as others where about to protest. “We are not here to break up the funeral” He looked around while the smaller one checked the crowd an almost robotic movement like a mantis waiting for light to move a bug waiting to feed. “There’s a problem here, we need to check out a few things on Sally before you …Finish the ceremony.” He offered a gesture with both hands a common enough blessing to the initiated among them but hardly noticeable to others. A slight rolling of the hands inward and up to gently salute or ‘offer of’ the mouth, the fangs. It meant something to those that knew what it meant And what it meant was that he was of the Blood Truth commonly called ‘The Serum” His royal lineage goes back beyond Venus Beyond the orbital colonies and moon bases to the origins This necro cop was descendant of the kings of vampirism. Quite frankly it scared the shit out of those who do recognize it. His family would be responsible for more than 2 or 3 genocides during the breeding wars. It was nothing back then to cleanse 10 million bio-gens and they developed the blood strains that would infect the ‘race’ or ‘production run’ A few disgruntled remarks and a bit of jostling caused a few to lash out or move forward causing some tension. The smaller Necro the human, felt the unease in the air and slipped out two Tella Guns as easily as one slides they’re hands out of they’re pockets. The sleek alien looking ‘burpers' flashed living metallic blue in the smoke filled room it was hard to believe something so beautiful was a weapon. The larger one waved him off but the point was clear to the crowd. They would go about their business one way or another. “Out of respect for Sally we can do this nice and fast or you can piss me off and it’ll get ugly real fast.” He smiled to show his 2 inch ‘tusks a little reminder that a necro cops teeth are deadly and the venom that pumped through them would steal your soul, you would be trapped within the necromancers memory a knowledge base for his use, nothing else but a dull electric pulse in the circuitry of your killer’s mind. He moved his hand over Sally’s impaled corpse, feeling the joints and tendons Looking for marks. Turning her to and fro. Trying to sense the blood for trails. After a few tense minutes he stood up turned rather glassy eyed and moved through them towards the preacher. “So what’s the matter? “Asked the reverend The human turned with a serious look and a tip of his hat. “That would be Necro business preacher.” “Don’t worry about him Preacher He’s a rookie and a human at that” “And You?” He leaned in and offered the Preacher a smoke as he took out two keeping one for himself In a time tested test of any detective, looking for a guard a movement a clue while his partner scrutinized the spectators and had their bios and files d/l straight into his brain via satellite Wisps of smoke traveling up his nostrils as he said in a low rasping tone .“Listen Preacher between you and me, off the record” He waited. “Yeah off the record” Who’s record he looked up His record?” The inhuman cop managed a smile “No” he shook his head and leaned right into the preachers face so he could see the memories of ten billion lives flash back out of the Truth bloods old soul. He gulped.” OK off Your record then.” “I think we have a problem.” “A problem? What kind?” The tall necro looked over his shoulder blowing a thick cloud of smoke. “A Blood luster kind. Of problem” It was said like a deadpan black and white Detective from an old movie, But the meaning wasn’t black and white it was in surreal Technicolor with surround a sound .“Blood luster? For real?“ “I thought they where just myths…like werewolves and mummies and…”“And Vampires?” he offered. "This is the seventh such death in the last 72 hours." I think we have a Nocturnal here.” He was speaking into his direct link mic to Necro Quarters. Checking back in for any other ‘incidents’. Standing to push his hat back and looking at the black framed rectangle of light which was the only way out of this place. Somehow it didn’t seem that inviting any longer. The Detective rises dusting off his pant leg, as the preacher exclaims shit…”“None what so ever.” As they walk through the door into what would be the longest night of his life Imperial Bloodlines Over Baron Erick Illiov goes through a weapons and systems check readying himself for the blood hunt.