VIII: Bloodbath

           The setting sun spilled across the ruins of the old Vainglory Cathedral and the surrounding homes that once housed vampire-worshipping humans. The former surface city of the Vainglory vampire court had been abandoned for some time now, but the cathedral was still in reasonable shape. Some of its walls were missing chunks, others severely cracked, a large section of its high domed ceiling precariously hung. In some angles, the piece looked as it floated in midair of its own accord. The wind blowing through the buildings gave a ghostly sounding effect to the empty city. Only it really hadn't been abandoned, not today. 

            Deep below the cathedral, hot, dusty air carried the pungent smell of sweat and old blood. Shouts echoed down the corridors of the underground complex. The once beautifully decorated grand hall for the cathedral now served a very different purpose. Dozens of what looked like humans, vampires, and amber-eyed humans crowded the stands, all shouting down at the two fighters in the center.

            "Rip its fucking throat out!" 

            "C'mon!! Don't let that filthy blood-sucking bitch beat you!"

            "I got too much money riding you, you shitty vampire! You better not fucking lose!"

            A bloodied human fought for his life down in the pit against a vampire who had seen better days. Their fight seemed more like a cat violently playing with its food when the food still wanted to put up a fight. The shouting became more intense, fueling the combatants below. It happened quickly: the human slipped on some of his own blood but corrected himself before he fell. That moment was all the vampire needed. In an instant, he closed the gap between them and smashed his head into the human's face. The man’s nose crushed and while it spewed more blood, he staggered backward, gasping for breath. 

           The vampire yanked the man's hair to the side with his left hand, forcing him to expose his neck. The battered and broken man knew it was over, and internally begged for this torture to end. Having fed on the man, the vampire shoved him to the ground; he spat at him a thick mixture of saliva and the blood of human and vampire alike. 

            "You taste worse than you smell, you filth!" the vampire shouted at him. He kicked him hard as he laid there, clinging to life. The spectators' shouts were a mix of excitement and anger quickly as the announcer and boss of the fight pit boomed over the crowd.

"This fight has a winner! Take that soon-to-be carcass and dump it!"

           The owner of the thunderous voice towered over most of the spectators gathered. His hair was thick, long, and combed back so his face could be clearly seen. Most people were generally more intimidated by his intense and angry yellow eyes than his muscular frame.  

           "You heard Rog! Get that thing out of here!" said one of Amarog's bookies. "Was hoping that human would have lasted longer--had a couple guys in for a decent chunk of change if he'd last a bit longer. Put a hell of a fight, though."

           "What is this bullshit?!" the vampire asked, shoving one of the Amarog's lackeys to the side. "This isn't all of my payment, Amarog! You tryin' to cheat me, you filthy dog!" 

           Quickly, the atmosphere changed in the cavernous underground room. What was seconds earlier filled with attendees drinking and socializing with their own kind evaporated rapidly as if the whole of the room had had the air sucked out of it. Amarog's gaze fell squarely on the vampire. 

           "You get what I pay you, Jimmy. Do you have a problem with that?" Amarog asked, his voice steady. At his sides, his fingers and hand twitching about slightly. Fur started to grow on the top of his hands and fingers as they got somewhat larger rapidly. The nails at the ends of his fingers grew and changed into inch-long claws.

           "Yeah, I do. I ain't one of your fuckin lap dogs. You give me what's owed to me, you filthy mongruggg…."

           In a flash, he swung his sizeable wolf-like hand and tore into Jimmy’s throat. The vampire’s flesh offered barely any resistance to the razor-sharp clawed fingers. Chunks of his neck were batted away and landed feet away. Amarog's right hand dripped in blood as he now stood arm's length away from the dying Jimmy. On his knees now, Jimmy clutched at his throat. Amarog's claws sounded as if they were breaking by some unseen force as they changed back to look like human hands.

           "Tony, have the boys put this ungrateful piece of shit near the soon-to-be corpse upstairs. I guess I won tonight. Drink up, you filthy degenerates!" The crowds broke out in an uproar, and they resumed their celebration.