Bloody hell, but it’s great to be me, thought Jasper, king of all the demon vampires. Not John Wayne, of course, but a good facsimile Jasper had chosen of the Old West king for a new Lucipire mission he was contemplating. Usually, Lucipires were huge creatures with scaly skin and claws and fangs and red eyes, not to mention a long tail, but they could transform their bodies into any outward appearance they wanted, including humanoid ones. Thus, his choice of John Wayne this time.
“Are you still sulking that I didn’t choose the Lone Ranger and Tonto?” he asked Beltane, his French hordling assistant who skipped every other step to keep up with Jasper’s long strides. There were many classes of Lucipires, the highest being Seraphim haakai demons, like himself, who had formerly been archangels eons ago, followed by the high haakai, then mungs, hordlings, and Satan’s foot soldiers, the imps.
“I never sulk, master,” Beltane replied with affront. His longtime assistant was relatively young for a Lucipire, having been taken from the 1700s Vieux Carre in New Orleans, compared to himself and some others who had been around for thousands of years.
“I know, I know,” he said, patting Beltane on his scaly arm. “I was just teasing. I did try, though, I want you to know that, but the mask wouldn’t fit over my bulgy eyes.”
Jasper was on his way to the council chamber of his castle for a meeting with his high commanders. Important business would be negotiated this day, and not just about the new mission. He intended to surprise a few of his lieutenants, including the loyal Beltane.
Along the way of the Corridor of the Condemned, he took note of the life-size killing jars that lined either side. Inside the tall, glass cylinders—his inventions modeled on butterfly killing jars—were newly captured, naked humans, the vilest of sinners—rapists, murderers, terrorists, pedophiles, and the like—in the process of being turned into demon vampires. Some were already in a state of stasis, others still fought against their fate, eyes wild with fright, banging the sides of their containers with bloody fists. Jasper’s cold heart lifted with joy at the sight. So much evil! So many new bodies to torture! Life was good!
“Bring me that one later,” he told Beltane, pointing to a red-haired wench with cone-shaped breasts and a bald pubic mound. No more than twenty, the girl had given a heroin overdose to a ten-year-old boy, just to amuse herself and a drug-addict lover. The lover was here somewhere, too. The boy was in a coma in a London hospital.
“Good choice. She still has some fight in her. I know you like them unwilling.”
“For a certainty,” Jasper agreed.
“I must warn you,” Beltane said, hesitantly, as if fearful of Jasper’s reaction, “Heinrich is here already, and he has a particularly gloating expression on his face.”
“I know,” Jasper said, gritting his teeth, not an easy task with fangs that were extended somewhat, even when retracted. “But he will not be gloating for long, if I have my way.”
Heinrich Mann was a former Nazi general who, unfortunately, had a direct line to Satan’s ear. He was an arrogant, anal, annoying bastard who was constantly name dropping, as in “Luce told me . . .” or “When I was sharing a fireball with Luce . . .” or “Luce and I were just thinking . . .” or “While jogging with Luce last night . . .” Luce was Heinrich’s nickname for Lucifer.
The Nazi asshole was so full of it. Everyone knew demons did not jog. Tails and all that. Even in humanoid form. Jasper knew because he’d tried it one time, and all that jarring caused his fangs to keep hitting his bottom lip. There was so much blood dripping from his mouth, a passerby called 911.
On the other hand, he wasn’t about to call Heinrich a liar. Not outright, leastways. ’Twas best not to offend the man too much because he reported every little thing back to the Big Guy. A snitch who carried around a rubber stamp of a swastika—can you believe it?—which he used on every paper he touched—probably had it imprinted on his toilet paper. You’d think he invented the thing.
Heinrich was a mere mung, with aspirations to be on the Lucipire High Council. No doubt, he wanted Jasper’s job eventually. While Jasper usually chose his top commanders from the upper ranks of the haakai, he knew that Satan wanted Heinrich to be given a position of authority as a reward for some evil or other. Probably the Holocaust, which demons preferred to call the Holycause. Talk about evil!
Jasper had put this favor off for too long, and now Satan’s wish regarding Heinrich was sounding more like a command. Jasper knew of Satan’s wish because his boss sent him an e-mail last week. Yes, an e-mail from Hell! Don’t ask. Suffice it to say, if you get an e-mail from
[email protected], you better answer. That didn’t mean Jasper couldn’t do the devil’s will and at the same time get some satisfaction in doing things his own way. Surprise, surprise, Heinrich! Jasper chortled to himself.