Divisions *HF*
Written by Steven Booth, Purple King
The sun crept defiantly through the wispy, weightless fluffs of cotton wool in the sky, allowing it’s renewing and invigorating light to shine forth upon the barren wasteland of the Arizonian desert. Even in these inhospitable surroundings, the sunshine could make things spring to life with vibrancy. The vibrancy of new life. But in most cases, the sun acted like the fatal hand of death, it’s scorching heat signing the death warrant on all living things. A gentle breeze wafted cautiously, ruffling the few plants that were scattered across the face of the sands. Small lizards and other reptiles began to crawl out of their hiding places, allowing the glare of sunlight warm their blood. It was another stiflingly hot morning.
The sleek crimson jaguar whirled across over burning hot sands, the mighty roar of its engine sending shockwaves through the calm March morning. Finally, the luxurious car came to an abrupt stop, just outside the mouth of several unfathomably deep, cavern-like alcoves. One tall, muscular man stepped out of the car, slamming the door forcefully into place, his light blue hair flowing over his shoulders wildly, its full, rich colour shining in the intense sunlight. Upon his face nestled a pair of expensive black sunshades, which combined perfectly with his dominant black attire. He wore calf high, heavy black leather boots, jet-black pants and shirt, a black armor jacket and a black trench coat, which swirled around his feet in a zany dance.
Around his waste hung a thick black belt. Attached to it were several guns, ammunition, daggers, wooden stakes, flasks containing Holy Water and a scabbard containing an intricately wielded silver bladed, diamond tipped sword, alien markings running around the hilt in a whirl and frenzy. The weapon looked like it belonged on another planet, not in the scabbard of this mere man.
The tall man walked across the sands, his heavy black boots crushing the ground under his feet. He walked sluggishly, a look of solemness spread across his face. In silence he passed the bonnet of the car and reached the opposite side. Without uttering a word he yanked on the handle, allowing the door of the exclusive sports car fall open.
From out of the gap stood a man, clearly the leader of the two. With uncharted elegance, he slid one leg onto the ground and taking the hand of the other man, prized himself out of the leather clad car seat. His icy, barren blue eyes began to search across the desert floor, the glimmer of the sunlight twinkling off the rim of his sunglasses. One white, leather bound hand out stretched, summoning purple sparks of telekinetic energy that began to explode from his fingertips. As if hauled by an invisible hand, the titanium bodied, ruby encrusted walking cane that lay precariously on the back seat of the car sprang to life and levitated into the air, directed into the man’s hand. He smiled.
Proudly, he whirled around, the black and golden silk cape that hung to the crimson torso covering armour, flapping widely in the breeze. He looked immaculate, his knee high golden coloured boots slipping over the skintight black pants and his whole battle armour giving him a certain sense of power.
Without uttering a single word, the two got down on their knees, the clods of dirt beginning to stick to their immaculate attire. The man with the elaborate, blue and red ruby cane began to open his mouth. “Hail Mary, full of grace,” he said in a solemn, concentrated voice, his collaborator echoing his words. Finally, the two stopped and rose to their feet.
“Let us get on with our task,” the shorter of the two men said, levitating himself slightly off the ground, “the beasts sleep.”
The man merely nodded, unsheathing his sword.
“Let’s just get in there, kill them and get right back out,” the tall, indigo-haired man said, his purple eyes darting around the desert floor, “those places give me the creeps.”
The smaller of the two men laughed. “Why worry when we have the power of God with us?”
“Well, the power of God isn’t the one risking his butt,” the taller man said, half serious, half jokingly.
The tone of the smaller man suddenly became more serious. “Dear boy, if faith in yourself and weapons be your only faith, then it may be you we are burying today. Now let’s go!”
Thick, solid darkness met their eyes as they peered into the caves, feeling their way along the cold, dampened, moss-filled walls. The smell of rotting flesh and stale air overwhelmed their senses, making their stomachs reel in protest, like prey escaping the wrath of a savage beast. Finally they opened out into a large chamber. All around the room lay disregarded carcasses, some still trickling with blood. Coffins lined the walls.
“Dear God,” the leader said, “how could such savageness exist in this world?” He prized open one of the coffins and came face to face with a sleeping vampire. Taking a wooden stake from his belt, he drove the implement into the beast, killing it immediately. Then he turned towards his friend.
“Set the bomb,” he declared, “the gases inside have so much concentrated iron oxide that it’ll over ride their blood supplies, killing every last one of them. And if you ask me, it is most deserved.”
Obediently, the giant pulled a silver capsule from inside his coat and pressed a blue button, allowing a small timer to commence countdown. The small man smiled. “Now, allow me to get us out of here,” he said, as he began to teleport himself and his friend out of the shadowy grotto.
The all-embracing sunlight hugged their skin as the two men re-emerged outside on the desert floor. Within a few seconds a raucous eruption shattered through the calm, morning silence. Finally, when the dust had eased away, the small man smiled at his friend. “Nothing like a job well done,” he said, the two of them getting back into the red jaguar. The tall man clicked the elite sports car into motion.
“You said it Steven, not let’s get back. We can’t be neglecting our duties within the Courts!” Epyon said.
“Nice to see such loyalty, my friend,” the Purple King said, allowing the air to blow in his face as the car roared across the desert, “and loyalty is what we are going to need right now, more than ever before.”
The Purple Knight could sense the nervousness in Steven’s voice. For all his strength, all his power, the Purple King was still only a man. And today, for perhaps the first time in a long while, he was uncertain what was going to happen.
Epyon quickly filled the stifling silence. “So, do you think Chastity can do it?” the young Knight questioned.
Steven smiled, a large, toothy grin spread across his face. “My dear boy, if there is anyone with the will to do it, Chastity Darkholme is that woman. Although I do question her true motives, and the fact that she had surrounded herself with some less than nice people does concern me. Yet, I know she has everything under control.”
Thomas nodded and began to speak before the sound of claws screeching against metal rang in his eyes. The Knight turned around to come face to face with two blood red eyes. “Damn it Steven!” he shouted, “We didn’t kill all of them!”
The Purple King turned his head around. “That’s Shinini, the leader of this pact. One mighty powerful vampire.” Before either men could retaliate, the vampire’s claws dug deeper into the trunk of the car, and with inhumane strength, began lifting the car off the road, hurling it across the desert floor.
Its frame began to compress as it toppled along the ground before finally bursting into flames, the hungry tongues ravishing around the car remorselessly.
Shinini hovered above the ground, a wide smile on his face revealing two very sharp fangs. “Take that slayer.”
Suddenly a wooden stake drove itself through Shinini’s right shoulder, making him jump backwards in pain. Steven appeared before him, with Epyon at his side. “Dear me,” Steven joked, glaring at Shinini, “how do you actually intend on killing an External?” Steven drove a stake right into Shinini’s arm, making the huge man collapse onto the ground, a sea of dark red blood flowing from his wound.
“You may have slain me, but be warned, Darkwind will have the last laugh. We will reign supreme!” Shinini said.
Epyon yawned, then drew his sword, pushing the blade into the vampire’s head. “Whatever you say. Whatever you say.” With that Shinini’s body crumpled into a pile of blackened ash.
Steven smiled. “That was successful.”
The Purple Knight merely rolled his eyes in utter doubtfulness. “Well, yes, except for the fact my car’s been torched. Now how will we get to Vegas?”
This time Steven rolled his eyes, as a portal began to open. “Use your imagination,” the King chuckled as he stepped through the vortex, his loyal Knight by his side.
Her eyes wandered over the emerald green field as the dewdrops began to be consumed by the rising sun. At this early hour, the International Hellfire Club’s mansion looked so peaceful, so relaxed. Chastity gave a little chuckle. Relaxed was something that didn’t often suit these walls. The former Red Queen’s thoughts digressed away. She remembered the first day she’d walked up to the mansion. It seemed so large, so vast. And the men inside seemed so…. powerful. Ryan looked like a man of great strength, of determination. The Red Bishop Steven Booth reminded her of a granddad with a bit of a stubborn streak to him. Charlotte Sometimes, the Red Queen, seemed a little discontent, like she was wearing borrowed robes. But her courage and beauty always impressed Chastity, even though she’d deny it to her grave. And so much had changed.
She’d risen through the ranks with incredible speed. Her beauty and charisma drove her through general membership, right through hellions and on into the Inner Circle as Rook, then finally as Queen. She’d had so many great times as Queen. Giving birth to her children, expanding the Darkholme Industry and growing closer to her brother. Yet, there had been some hard times, some times that had scarred her deeper than anything she’d ever admit.
Ian was the first boyfriend she’d seriously had feeling for. The first man who made her pulse rise and her hairs stand on end. There was an air of danger around him, an appearance of strength and power that attracted her to him. But, when she needed him the most, when she depended on his help, she let him down. And at that moment, Chastity Darkholme decided never to fall in love again.
The slight rumblings of the Purple Hellfire Court’s elite jet jolted Chastity from her thoughts. She smiled, straightening her dominantly black attire and headed out of the now bare office, which used to belong to her. As she walked down the corridors towards the entrance hall, she collided with Ryan.
“My dear Chastity,” he said in a hissing tone, like a cobra spitting venom, “what have we done to deserve your presence.”
Chastity glared at him, her gaze and mannerism equally as threatening and deadly. “I thought it’d be nice for me to be present at this little meeting. You know how I like to see you fall flat on your face. I mean, come on Ryan, you are a failure. What can I tell my children when they ask what their father is?”
“Our children,” Ryan spat, “and your lucky you got semi-custody. If I had it my way, I would have had you out of their life forever, you glorified whore!”
Chastity smiled sweetly. “Well, that little photo came in handy, didn’t it?”
Ryan merely over looked her and turned to the hallway. “I am going to greet my guests,” he said, as he walked away from her, “I suggest you leave and go home to lover boy.”
“Which one?” Chastity said as she materialised in front Ryan, leaning on the oak entrance doors, “you see, it seems that Cronos has some competition. Did I ever tell you how manly SuperGrover looks? All that lovely blonde hair…”
The Red King ignored her and opened the door, revealing Shockwave, Xeus and Ian Fitzroy. “Come in,” Ryan said in an unfriendly, patronising tone, “I’m sure you’ve met the Crimson Whore, I mean Queen, Chastity. Go through to the lounge and I shall be with you shortly.”
“He is such an asshole,” Xeus said to Ian as they walked into the expensively decorated room, “and where’s Steven?”
Suddenly two figures, engulfed in light, stepped into the room. As the glow faded, it revealed the Purple King and Knight. Steven smiled at his court and waved to Chastity. Then he turned to Ryan. “You know why we’re here,” he said bluntly, “now let’s get down to business.”
He scurried down the corridors of the Vatican with a hurried pace, his eyes darting around the beautifully constructed building, searching for something. In all his years as a priest, Cardinal Elijah Hulmes had never been so nervous, so unprepared. He rounded the corner and collided with another priest. Pardoning himself, the cardinal ran into his office and switched on his personal computer. Tapping a few keys, he went online and started downloading his e-mail. Then he began to read them, his face becoming more worried by the second. Finally, he switched off the computer, shredded the papers and lifted up his telephone. “Get me Professor Steven Booth now!” he shrieked, “this is an emergency.”
“So, let’s not beat about the bush,” ShockWave said in a cool, clam, relaxing tone, “the Purple Court feels that the current actions of the Red Court are unacceptable and that we have been kept in the dark about the whole situation.”
Steven began to speak. “I had an idea Chastity was unsettled in the Red Court. Despite the mystical boundaries she and her brother think they have, I can quite clearly feel an empathic bond with them. Chastity wasn’t happy. Her children were mutating beyond things she couldn’t cope with, Ryan had buried himself in work and hadn’t spoken to her, and basically, this Court was falling apart.”
If looks could kill, Steven was sure Ryan’s gaze would have struck him down dead. The Purple King ignored this and continued. “To be blunt Ryan, your leadership isn’t something desired. Now Chastity has decided to leave you, and the Inner Circle has followed, you remain Courtless. And the Purple Inner Circle has decided that the Red Court is nothing but a strain. Therefore, a vote has taken place, and we have decided to terminate our union to the IHFC house, and have opted to found our own Hellfire Club, the Purple Hellfire Club. This however doesn’t mean that the Red and Purple Court are enemies. That isn’t true. But, it didn’t work out. Sorry Ryan, but your leadership skills must be rethought.”
Steven stood up and offered his hand to Ryan. The Red King looked at him as if he’d given him some deadly poison. He sneered, knocking Steven’s arm away. “You people think you can make a fool out of me?” he shouted, “You disgust me. I do not need snivelling lap dogs like you. You are nothing but cattle fodder. Now, get out of here, before I loose my patience.”
Steven walked over to Ryan, a cunning grin spread across his face. “Dear me, we don’t like it when our toys get broken, do we Ryan?” he said in a low, level tone, “nope, we don’t like it at all. But it’s about bloody time you recognised that human beings are not toys. I bid you farewell Ryan. We can leave as friends or as enemies. You choose.”
Ryan turned around and looked straight into the psychic’s eyes. “I prefer the latter of the two,” he hissed.
Steven shrugged. “Whatever you say Ryan, whatever you say.”
The grand ballroom of the Purple Hellfire Club’s castle was decorated in lilac, silver and blue, the subtle shades spread throughout the room, from the silk runners that ran around the large pillars to the assorted fairy cakes that lay on the immense buffet tables.
“This place looks fabulous,” Blackfire said as she approached Steven, who stood talking to two very important looking people. The King turned to Blackfire and smiled.
“Yes, it looks great. And there are so many people here! Glad to see someone supports the new and improved Purple Hellfire Club.”
Blackfire smiled. “Can I have a word with you Steven?”
The King nodded. “Have as many as you like, the night is young!” He started to tap his feet as the band began playing his favourite Frank Sinatra song Chicago.
“Well,” Blackfire said nervously, “I have recently resigned from the Grey Court and things are just too chaotic, and I really need to take some time away from it all and just relax. And I was wondering, are there any openings here, in Jamaica, you know, as a member of the Purple Hellfire Club?”
Steven smiled widely at Sharon. “Of course, there’s always a place for my friends. We’ll discuss it more in the morning. But right now, let’s party!”
“Why are we here again?” Cronos said, pure annoyance seeping in his words, “I hate these kind of functions.”
Chastity’s eyes didn’t fix upon him as she spoke. “To show our support. What we need right now are allies, not enemies. And who knows, perhaps one day the Crimson Court might need the Purple Club’s help. Anyway, I must speak to Steven.”
The Crimson Queen walked elegantly, her black ball gown which stretched right to her ankles and was cut in a v shape in the chest, shimmering in the dimly lit room, the pure radiant beauty of her trickling from her alabaster skin. Finally, she placed her hand on Steven’s shoulder, making him turn to greet her.
”Chastity!” Steven said, “so nice of you to come. How are you doing?”
“Fine,” she said, “and the Crimson Court’s doing brilliantly. It seems we’ve both been released from Ryan’s strangling grasp.”
Steven smiled. “I too must second that. It feels so good to finally be independent, doesn’t it?”
Chastity nodded. “We’ve bought a mansion in New Orleans,” she said, “it was going to be my new Darkholme Academy, so it made sense to start up there. Just remember, you’ll always be welcomed.”
“Before we continue, I must apologise,” Steven said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you full custody of the children. But Nathaniel insisted on partial custody. At first he was going to grant full custody to Ryan, but I told him that he wasn’t getting my Godchildren!”
Chastity furrowed her brow. “You mean, you bribed the judge? Dear me Steven, what will Him upstairs say?”
The Purple King chuckled. “Is anything I have ever done wrong? Anyway, where’s Daemon?”
Chastity seemed to shift awkwardly. “My brother has decided he is too immature to join my new Court. You know Draco, he still wants to be 16 and free again>”
Steven rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s good to see you. Good luck with your court.” And with that, the Purple King walked into the centre of the dance floor and stood on he platform, ready to speak.
The band died down and people stopped dancing, all eyes fixed on the small man in the immaculate purple Italian silk suit and matching Tuxedo. “Ladies and gentlemen, a new dawn is upon us today. Through matters that are no longer important, the IHFC has lost it’s Purple Court and much of its Red Court. But, the Purple Hellfire Court has decided that now we will function as a totally independent Club. So, can you please raise your glasses to the Purple Hellfire Club!”
“Snivelling fool,” the shrouded woman said as she touched the surface of her watery viewing globe, making the images vanish from sight, “if they truly believe the International Hellfire Club has been destroyed, then soon they shall become painfully aware that it hasn’t. They shall feel my wrath, and you, Steven Booth, will finally know death, it’s that right my Red King?”
Ryan smiled widely as he slipped his arms around her waist, his lips starting to kiss her neck. “That’s right, my Red Queen. That is right.”
Steven could feel the vibrating of his cell phone within his blazer pocket. Who would be calling so late? he said to himself as he ploughed through the crowds of celebrating people, out into the lobby where the noise was almost bearable.
“Hello, Steven?” a frantic voice said. Steven realised who it was immediately.
“Elijah, hello, what’s wrong?” Steven said, his brow furrowing in confusion. Why would a Cardinal who he hadn’t seen for quite some time be calling him now?
“I have been researching the vampire revolt,” Cardinal Hulmes said, “I have already sent some slayers to Pendle, England. That’s where Darkwind’s meeting with his armies. It seems the revolt is going to take place earlier than anticipated. And, from my observations, Darkwind has what’s needed to overthrow the Council. You must act fast; otherwise we’re all doomed.”
Steven’s knees began o knock as he leaned against the wall for support. “How long do I have to act, Elijah? Are you coming to help?”
“Yes, I am going to fly over to Jamaica as soon as possible. We have three days to act. But we must get in, hit hard. I’ve called various slayers from all over the world, and they’re all heading to Pendle, in England. It’s near your hometown, right?”
Steven nodded. “Yes, Pendle Hill is actually in Burnley. Don’t worry Elijah; we’ve been training for this for years. We’ll pull it off.”
“You’d better hope so, otherwise the whole world could be in jeopardy. Farwell.” With that, the line went dead.
End
