Valley of Dead Kings
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All The King's HorsesChapter 7 free porn video
Sunnyvale, California
Earth
1997
Mark Hanson’s hands shook the entire day. An excited, nervous tension sliding through him from his feet to his scalp to his fingers.
Tonight. Tonight. Tonight.
“Hey, retard.”
The voice snapped him out of his focus on trying to keep his feet moving one step ahead of him. It was harder than it sounded – he was always tripping on himself. His shoes were too big for his feet and his shirt felt like a big billowing tarp. That all came from wearing his older brother’s hand-me-downs, which was all that Mom bothered to get for him. It was also why, when he spun around to face Greg and Mark (the Cool Mark, not the Other Mark, there were at least three Marks at school, and Mark was pretty sure that he was the least cool) he managed to almost plant his face into one of the lockers that lined the school’s main corridors.
“What?” He asked, but then Greg grabbed him by the collar.
“Retard, what did you forget today?” Greg asked, glaring at him.
Mark realized that his excitement about tonight – tonight! - had pushed some thoughts out of his head. What good was immortality and glory when Greg Strong and Cool Mark put your head through a locker for forgetting to...
“I did your homework!” Mark stammered, trying to sound like he wasn’t lying his fucking ass off. Cool Mark smacked the back of his head.
“Then where is it, retard? You retarded?” he asked, scowling at him.
“Hey!”
The voice that makes Cool Mark and Greg look away is high and feminine. They both turn and there’s that weird girl from chemistry – Tiffany? That was her name? Mark had heard at least half the kids in school mention that she was a weirdo. Always slipping off to have lunch in the library with the weird British guy who ran the place. Half the school said that she was sucking his cock for grades (which Mark was pretty sure didn’t make sense, since no one got graded from the librarian), and the other half said she was lezzing out with her friend, Birch.
That was slightly more likely. Half the school was convinced Brich was totally into chicks. But since she made Tiffany look like the model of a social butterfly, there was barely any time for anyone to give her shit about it – and he’d heard a rumor that at least one girl who had tried had ended up with boils on both of her hands. Which was a sick prank, even if he had no idea how Birch had done it. All that flitted through his head as Cool Mark and Greg both looked Tiff up and down.
“Winters, back off,” Greg said. “We’re just having a gentleman-”
“Blah blah blah bully blep,” Tiff said, miming a talking mouth with her hand. “Listen, kidbucks-”
“We’re seniors, junior,” Cool Mark snapped.
“Yeah, and I’m not a virgin, dorkus,” Tiff said. “So, you know.”
“Dude, did you just admit you’re a slut?” Cool Mark asked.
“Nah, it was your mom who did that,” Tiff said, her cheeks coloring, as if she hadn’t quite worked out how her quip would function.
“What-” Cool Mark asked.
“Whatever!” Tiff flicked her hand. “Get away from the nerdlinger. No offense.”
Mark gaped at her. “I can handle this myself!” He said, or tried to say around the tightness in his throat and his own excitement and terror. Cool Mark, Greg and Tiff all ignored him – they were too busy glaring at one another. Mark growled slightly, then ... he realized something. “Dudes, I can give you something way better than homework...” He said, his voice faintly unfocused., the idea striking him. Greg and Cool Mark looked at him – while Tiff furrowed her brow as well.
“Spookydicklous,” she muttered. “What’s that all about?”
“Nothing. I don’t need help from a girl!” Mark snapped and he noticed Cool Mark and Greg both grinning slightly at him. Yeah. Smile about it now, fuckers, Mark thought. Whose going to be laughing tonight?
Tiff snorted, then stalked off, muttering under her breath.
“See ... I got tickets to a club,” Mark said, pulling the ticket out from his wallet. He’d tucked it next to the condom he had bought too, even if the twins hadn’t told him to buy one. But. Like. He knew where this was going. He pulled the ticket out and the two bully’s eyes bugged out, wide. Huge. Shocked. Stunned. Awed.
“No fucking way, the nerd got a fucking ticket to the Asylum?” Cool Mark whispered. “That’s like, a club for adults.”
“I happen to know the owners,” Mark said, trying to sound cool.
“No fucking way,” Greg said, but he sounded like he was mostly saying it to be saying it. “No one knows who the owners of that place are.”
“Their names are Theresa and Jeanette,” Mark said, grinning. “And they’re going to be ... dying to meet you.” The two bullies grinned at one another, nodding, and Mark, inside, was doing a little dance in his head. Holy shit. Holy shit. Tonight, he was going to be a vampire. Tonight, he was going to be immortal. And the first person who would face his unholy wrath ... was going to be Greg Strong, the fucker who had ruined his life for the past three years.
Mark could hardly believe it.
He was going to get everything.
And nothing could ruin it.
Mark gaped at the smoldering ruins that were all that was left of the Asylum. Flames gushed from the windows and the shattered glass that spread along the ground were glittering with the reflected light. There wasn’t a soul in sight on the street. People in Sunnyvale knew better than to go out at night: They tended to ... vanish. Mark thought he had known why, before.
The wreckage shifted and the immense, furred creature stepped from the flames. Standing on its back with a dagger was Tiffany Winters, her body covered in small burns and ash. She plunged the knife into the furred creature’s neck as one of its bat wings spread out. “Die you fucking batmunge piece of fucking fuck!” Tiff shouted, plunging the knife in again and again and again and again – and each time, hissing, bright red steam escaped from the creature’s neck. It screeched from its batlike maw.
“Tiff!” Birch shouted from the sidelines. She was kneeling beside the two corpses of Jeanette and Theresa, their chests sprouting two jagged stakes. She had a lage book open and was flipping through it hurriedly. “Unless you know it’s name, you can’t kill it!”
“Why didn’t you tell me that be-” Tiff shouted before the creature grabbed her and slung her away by her feet. She twisted through the air, landed with impossible grace on the roof of the building across the way. She skidded to a stop as the immense bat creature gargled out something in a language Mark didn’t speak. He was frozen to the spot – exactly where he had been for the past, oh, two minutes. Everything had been going great. Better than great. The two vampire twins had started snuggling up against him, then-
“Birch, look out!” Tiff shouted. She sprang off the roof of the building and dropped onto the monster’s head. It stumbled and crashed to its knees, screeching as Tiff put both of her hands into its eye-sockets and tugged backwards. Birch, who was still reading her book calmly, scowled.
“It’s called the Beast Without a Name.”
“Fucking seriously?”
Birch frowned, then grabbed onto one of the stakes that Tiff had thrown – thrown, from across the fucking room – into Theresa’s chest. She grunted, jerked, and tugged it free. Mark gaped in shocked, appalled horror as movement returned to the shriveled corpse that had been Theresa. Her skin smoothed out, once more becoming the ash-gray perfection that he had fallen for when he had first met her. She groaned, sitting up and rubbing her head – then yelped as Birch looped a cross on the end of a chain around her throat.
“Ow ow ow ow!” Theresa gasped.
“Can you please tell me what the name of this thing is?” Birch asked, her voice sing song sweet. “Or does Birch gotta choke a bitch?”
“It’s called Garglograthar!” Theresa squalled.
“It’s called-”
“I name thee Garbabelbeabbel!” Tiff shouted as she yanked her hands free from the gore-pits that were the monster’s eyes. Then she brought the knife plunging down into its forehead, sinking in to the hilt. The creature stood, stock still, mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. Then, as it began to fall to its knees, it began to turn into ash and dust. By the time the head struck the ground, it had turned entirely to black powder which began to blow away.
“Was that hard?” Birch asked, sweetly, to Theresa.
“Yes!” Theresa whined.
Tiff stepped away from the wreckage of the night-club and the dissolving corpse of the monster. Then, brushing her hands off, she looked down at Mark. She snapped her fingers. “ ... Mark ... right?” She asked. “Mark Hanson?”
Mark gaped at her.
“Sup?” Tiff asked. “You know, uh, being a bloodbag’s really not what you want to do with your life. D.A.R.E and all that.” She grinned. “A winner says no to doing vampires.” She chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Y-You ruined everything...” Mark whispered, his eyes wide.
Tiff blinked. “Zuh?”
“T-They were going to make me immortal...” Mark breathed, looking at Theresa, who was being pinned onto her back by Birch.
“Oh, come on, I’m Cam, you can’t just- my Primogen is going to-” Theresa started before Birch plunged the stake into her chest, causing her to shrivel up and collapse onto the ground again. As she sprawled there, Birch stood up, brushing off her hands, while Tiff shook her head slowly.
“Listen, Mark? These two are...” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay. You know, how, like, sometimes in TV shows, bad guys lie? That’s like what they did. They lied to you because, uh, you’re not really their type when it comes to vampchomp town. Vampires are more, like...” She waved her hand. “You know. Shallow!” She nodded, eagerly. “They’re shallow! You’re just, you know ... not the ... their type...”
Mark gulped slowly.
“They just wanted you cause, like, virgin blood is great for summoning demons,” Tiff said.
“I-I’m not a virgin...” Mark whispered.
Tiff gave him a thumbs up and Mark felt as if he was maybe two, three inches tall.
“That’s the spirit! Now, uh, lets get you-”
“I don’t need your fucking help!” Mark sprang to his feet, his eyes brimming with tears, tears he hated. “I ... fuck you, Tiff! I didn’t ask for your help! Everything was fine before you ruined it! You freak! Fuck you!” He shoved her – or at least, he tried too. When his hands got close, Tiff grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm and almost wrenching his shoulder out of his socket. The pain was shocking and her voice was cold.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” She said. Then, in a different tone of voice. “F-Fuckery, sorry, Hunter Inst-”
She let him go, and Mark turned and fled.
He fled, and he knew it was stupid, he knew how dangerous Sunnyvale was. But he ran because standing there was impossible. He fled into the darkness and tears streaked down his cheeks as he ran and he ran and he ran – and when he stopped, it was only because his lungs were burning. He bent forward and red swam before his vision and he vomited onto the pavement – he vomited out bile and he vomited out shame and he vomited out fury and impotent rage. And his dad’s mac and cheese. Mostly that, really. And when he coughed the last chunk out of the way, he drew a shuddering breath ... and noticed that a large, sleek, limousine had pulled up to the corner.
The door opened and looking inside, he saw a sleek, handsome man in a suit.
He was a vampire.
“Good evening, Mr. Hanson,” the vampire said. “I ... have a business proposal.”
Mark wiped at his mouth.
“It involves our mutual associate,” the vampire said, grinning. Showing fangs. “Tiffany Winters.”
Unnamed Planet, Sector 98-A, Neutral Space The Milky Way Galaxy 2398
The howling sandstorm punctuated the long silence between Mark Handson revealing his face and identity and the next time someone spoke. Tiffany Winters, still in her armored space suit, and Sebastian stood beside one another, while Bryce was on his knees, an immense golden knife held to his throat. His ears were pinned back against his head, but he tried to look chipper as the dark skinned African woman held the blade to his throat.
Mark chuckled, softly as he looked Tiffany over. Tiffany herself was looking him over. She had vague memories of him, from back when she was in Sunnyvale High. HE had been short and kind of tubby, with a pimply face and hair that was kind of wispy even at a young age. Well, the intervening three centuries had been better to him than Tiffany thought he had any right to: His jaw was now clearly visible with all the baby fat burned away. The pimples were gone, in their place was a clear, perfect looking skin. His hair had even grown in a bit more and become wavy, romance book cover hair. He held himself with poise and confidence.
But it was his eyes that made Tiff’s hackles rise.
They were almost exactly the same eyes she had seen last time he had looked at her.
... which had been in a ... hallway? Right? She’d stopped some bullies?
“You have not changed one iota,” Mark said, slowly.
Tiff shook her head. “Wait just a fucking second. Sebastian-” no way in fucking hell she was going to call Sebastian ‘master’ while standing before a whole goon squad. “-you called him Genghis Khan. Now. I know that this is the future and who knows who gets to be what, but that fucker’s whiter than me. And his name’s Mark Hanson. And he went to my fucking high school, three centuries ago.”
“That’s the name he called himself, it got into the history books,” Sebastian said. “We don’t have his actual birth name – the records were destroyed during the Eugenics War. And-”
“You know?” Mark cut in, his voice a deep, confident baritone now. “I always did hate that name you people chose for it. There was remarkably little eugenics involved.”
“You sterilized entire populations,” Sebastian growled. “Whole families!”
“That wasn’t eugenics. That was merely cleaning the gene pool,” Mark said, casually, stepping to the side, continuing to take off more of the armor he had worn while in the swirling sandstorm outside, revealing that underneath the heavy layers, he was dressed in an impeccable three piece suit, one that he brushed into straighter lines.
“That’s eugenics, you bastard!” Sebastian snarled – but then froze as one of the goon squad members, one who hadn’t even moved a muscle, suddenly stood before him, pressing a knife to his throat. That knife was just as big as the one to Bryce’s throat. Tiffany hadn’t seen him even flinch before he took his step – and that made a cold ice bucket slide down her back. She kept her hands up, while Mark shook his head.
“We removed down syndrome, autism, aspergers, a dozen maladies, from nearly two thids of the world’s population and they’re still triggered over it,” Mark said, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” He opened a small metal cabinet in the wall of the canted, long crashed ship, then drew out what looked like a bottle of fine brandy. “Of course, what can we expect from a population of monsters?” He smirked, looking at Tiffany. “How are you enjoying the brave new world?”
“Oh, you know, what the fuck is going on?” Tiff asked. “You guys are talking like I should be getting a fucking boatload of references, but I haven’t got one single fucking idea what you’re talking about?”
Mark chuckled, softly, then knocked back his brandy. “How long has she been defrosted?”
“A while,” Tiff said, frowning.
“And you haven’t read up on your history?” Mark shook his head. “Of course, you were always lazy at school. If only I had known it was because you were hunting vampires.” His lip curl. “And slutting up to them.” His eyes flicked to Sebastian. “And I can see you’ve already found a new one to rub up against.” Tiff bristled – but before she could say anything, the man with the knife to Sebastian’s throat shot her a warning glare and she subsided, allowing Mark to continue. “After I helped to dispose of you – all it took was a faked demon summoning and an ambush, really...” He grinned. “Well, the Prince was more than happy that I took out an annoying thorn in his side without leaving any loose ends.”
Tiff blinked. “Y ... You did?”
“Oh, it wasn’t supposed to go down that way. When the Prince approached me, he simply wanted me to spy on you. But I did the research. I broke into the library and read all those old books Christian – remember him? - kept around. All those wards to keep vampires and monsters away ... and he locked it with a bike lock.” He shook his head slightly. “Those books made it clear why the Prince didn’t just kill you: Kill a Hunter and the Hunter spirit seeks out another new person.”
Tiff nodded, subtly. She tried to not think about the girl who had died, screaming, for her to get the Hunter spirit inside her. That spirit was growling and snapping at her, snarling and glaring at Mark. He must die, her Hunter thought. He’s...
Wrong.
The more Tiff watched him, the more she knew it, deep in her belly. Mark set his glass down, having polished off the whiskey off. “So, I suggested they put you on ice. A frozen Hunter means no new Hunter and the Camerilla can operate unopposed. The Prince allowed it and for my efforts, I was rewarded so very well. Millions of dollars – 1998 dollars into my personal bank account and a man with connections to half the technology companies in the Silicon Valley.” His lips skinned back. “Then I showed him what a human can do.”
He smirked. “I invested in oil and surveillance. And when the towers fell, my lobbyists were in there at ground zero. Patriot. Aegis. Minuteman. They were all my company’s brainchilds. And as the war on terror spun up and the consumers got more desperate for security and safety, I sold it to them. And the poor, stupid, short sighted vampires, so focused on their Dance Macabre, they didn’t ever think human gadgets or gizmos could find them. But all I had to do was sell enough thermographic cameras and...” He snapped his fingers.
“You broke the Masquerade...” Tiff whispered.
“I mean ... I had help,” Mark said, in a kind of way that meant ‘yes, yes, it was me, I did it.’ He looked so smug that Tiff had to bite back an urge to bite him. “But after the Masquerade broke and the Hunter’s War started, everyone was looking for a solution. And I had one. I had the template for the ultimate super weapon. I had you.”
Tiff felt a click in her head.
“The augments...” she whispered. “Project Solar.”
Mark spread his hands. “Behold your replacement. A Hunter spirit – but better. I don’t just kill vampires.” His forehead suddenly flared and a golden circle with radiating lines burst to life in the air right above his skin. It rippled with golden flames – and as he stood there, the others in the goon squad flared as well – each had a different symbol, but they all had the same glowing golden hue to them. “We harnessed the potential of humanity and honed it to absolute perfection. Each of us have the past life memories of countless millions of the finest poets, artists, warriors.” He tapped his temple. “I’m not just Mark, not anymore. I have his memories – the memories of conquering the world, of putting cities to the torch and to the sword. I am Khan.”
“Right.” Tiff whispered.
“The Solar Project was an abject failure,” Sebastian said, his voice tight. “Each of you went insane. There was some kind of inherent fault – even the nice ones became megalomaniacs. And Khan started out an entitled-”
“Be silent,” Mark spoke – his voice layered with timbers and tambers that made Tiff’s bones turn to water. Sebastian flinched as if he had been struck – but he managed to keep speaking.
“-an entitled, racist, short sighted fool. Tell her about the famines, Mark. Tell her about the building projects we’re still finding mass graves uner! Tell her-”
Mark glared and as he glared, a golden light seemed to explode from around his body. It was as if a glowing sun had come to life inside the small room. Except it wasn’t like that at all. It was that. Sebastian began to scream, thrashing and hissing as his skin began to curl and crisp up as if he was under the blast of a flamethrower. The man with the knife grinned and hooked his arm around Sebastian’s throat, holding him fast as the vampire sank into the wild Red Frenzy, the Rötschreck. The fear of the sun.
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