The alley was pitch black apart from the neon glare from the fire exit door that backed onto it and a small flickering street lamp by the entrance. The only noise was the mice scurrying by the dustbins and the wind blowing the occasional crisp packet or newspaper page towards the main road. The smell of rotten food from the kitchens and vomit from the early morning clubbers was almost visible in the air; a sort of musty yellow. Although it was a squalid hellhole it almost seemed tranquil in its quietness; like a sewer pit untouched by any form of life.
Suddenly the fire door swung open and the sounds of the nightclub within instantly filled the alley and sent the mice fleeing into a skip opposite. A girl in a cream mini skirt and red crop top came giggling out of the door hand in hand with a man in a pin strip suit and trilby hat. He spun her round to face him and pushed her up against the skip. They started to kiss. Drunken and clumsily. Only spending the minimal time on her ashtray mouth he was soon sucking on her chin and neck as she tilted her head back and moaned, more out of instinct than actual excitement. She had done this enough times to know that when a man kisses your neck you moan regardless of how little it turns you on. He began to fiddle around at the back of her top as he tried to undo her bra. She started to reach into his trousers, part of her hoping he was too drunk to get an erection. However it was not to be and there he was, stood to attention a little bit too much she thought seeing as he hadn’t even touched her tits yet. He had abandoned the bra and now had his hands up the back of her skirt as he grabbed at her bum and began to slide her black thong down to her knees. She wasn’t feeling anything down there so she desperately began to tug at his hard cock in the hope he would cum before it got to penetration time. He had his head between her cleavage now and had managed to remove her underwear over her stiletto spray tanned leg. He stopped kissing her and asked if she had a condom. She was on the pill and had plenty in her handbag but denied this so he had to go inside and buy one. As he disappeared inside the club she lit a cigarette and thought about whether she would do a runner or stay for the inevitable poor sex before making him pay her double for the taxi home.
‘He’s married you know’ A voice came out of the dark and the girl jumped spilling ash down her now slightly ripped top.
‘Who’s there?’ she asked timidly as she desperately tried to get her thong back on so she wasn’t completely on show.
‘I’m the guy telling you he’s married. You should leave now’
‘: Look I don’t have any money and I have a rape alarm in my purse...
‘I don’t want to rape you or take your bloody money you stupid tart’ Martin said. ‘I’m trying to tell you that the guy your about to have intercourse with for cash has a wife. And two kids for that matter. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’
‘Not really. Actually explains a lot. Now wonder he was so keen to do it in an alley. In fact he probably hasn’t had it since his kids were born so it will be nice and quick. The girl was getting impatient with this jerk. ‘She leant forwards, pulled her top down and jiggled her breasts towards the shadows where the voice was coming from.
‘Now honey, unless you want a piece of this as well, I suggest you fuck off and leave a girl to make a living.’
‘So be it’ said Martin. He came forward from the shadows and walked straight up to her. He was wearing a long black coat with a white t-shirt underneath. He also wore a brown fedora with brown belt and shoes to match. The girl leant forward and licked his lips all the way up to his nose. He smelt the blood from where the man had bit her bottom lip during his 30 second attempt at foreplay.
‘Well come on then stud, if you’ve got the balls.’
Martin sighed, then snapped her neck and drained her of blood in 15 seconds. He threw the body into the skip and took out his mobile phone. He dialled a number from a piece of paper he had in his pocket. After a few seconds a woman’s voice answered.
‘Yes Mrs Sanderson. I can confirm he is definitely cheating on you. As far as I know it’s just with prostitutes but I don’t know how many or for how long. I will send you the photos tomorrow once my fee is collected. Yes that’s correct 3 pints, chilled. You have the delivery details. Thank you for your co-operation Mrs Sanderson. He hung-up the phone. At that moment Mr Sanderson came stumbling out of the fire exit with a condom and two bottled beers in his hand. He looked at Martin with a puzzled expression. Martin showed him his fangs dripping with blood and he ran away dropping the beers on the floor in the process. Martin laughed. He had eaten and felt good. Good enough for the hard part of the night to seem less daunting. Gaining entrance to the nightclub. Originally he had planned to sneak in through this very fire exit after collecting the evidence he needed from Mr Sanderson. But he hadn’t intended on feeding off the evidence and now it was not the best place for him to be breaking and entering. He began briskly walking out of the alley deciding his next move.
Martin was a private detective. Well at least he currently was. He was actually 368 years old and had only been a private detective for 36 of those so it was hardly a career yet. He had thought of the idea whilst watching movies one night. At the time he had not eaten in a while and was tempted to go on a small killing spree. The problem was that he could only go hunting at night and at night the sort of people who were out and about were not the most nourishing of meals. Druggies, hookers, tramps and binge drinkers did not exactly have the best blood on the market and it sometimes left him feeling quite ill. Then whilst watching Casablanca London
The only problem he had come across is that solving peoples cases involved going to a lot of places where as a belief created being he was usually less than welcome. Bars, clubs, motels and cinemas all had staff and bouncers who did not look fondly on people with fangs trying to gain entrance to their establishments. Especially people with fangs who dressed like they were from another age (which of course Martin was). He had therefore come up with several ways to gain access to these various places one of which he was about to try out on The Viper Room in Islington.
The plan was simple. He would fly up to above the nightclub where nobody could see him and then swoop down really fast for a bit shouting gibberish. This generally made drunk people believe they were under threat from terrorists or aliens or whatever they chose to believe in (surprisingly they never thought it was vampires). During this commotion Martin would land behind the bouncers who were normally running around looking into the sky or trying to control the panicking horde and then say to the girl or guy at the ticket counter that he was with whatever dj he had read off the posters outside the club. The main problem with this plan is that after a few times Martin wasn’t sure which clubs he had done it in and which he hadn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was to get in the papers being called an alien or being in the position where he had to kill more people than absolutely necessary. He was fairly sure that he had done the screaming swooping trick at The Viper Room before but this case was too big and tonight was too good an opportunity to miss. So he made his way cautiously up to the posters by the door to see who the resident tune spinner was tonight.
Suddenly he found himself being grabbed on the shoulder. His fangs tingled as he sensed danger and spun round expecting to have to commit a massacre he was not really in the mood for when he found himself staring into the eyes of a pretty red head with black rimmed glasses and dimples round her mouth.
‘You in the band?’ She asked.
‘Naturally’ Martin instinctively muffled trying not to reveal his razor teeth.
‘Well your late’ She said as she began ushering him into the nightclub. The bouncers did not even look up. ‘They’re back stage but I’m afraid you’ve missed sound check’
‘No problem’ Martin said through his jacket sleeve. He tried to act as cool and natural as possible as he entered The Viper Room having a sneaky look at the poster on the wall opposite to check out the name of the band he was supposedly in.
LIVE TONIGHT
THE SUNDAY VAMPIRES!!
Martin smiled to himself. Sometimes fate deals you a hand you can’t lose on.
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