Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Necrofiend: Blood Moon ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Blood Moon
-Original Work-
Warning: yaoi, yuri , graphic violence and gore, supernatural creatures, OC POV, etc

A/N: Hello! I would like to thank you, the reader, for checking out my work. I’ve been writing fics for a good….three or four year and am now returning from a two year hiatus. This is an original I’d started before disappearing from the fanfic world. It has several sequels and whatnot to it that I plan on rewriting to accommodate my new writing style of sense of how my characters should behave. I look forward to any and all feedback you guys have to offer. In fact I thrive on it! Anyways, that’s about all. Enjoy your read!

Special Thanks to: Kelsea, aka Rose_Fury, for volunteering to be my beta! Your help is and will always be appreciated. <33

Disclaimer: I pretty much own most of the characters that will appear in this story. I also own the plot. However, I don’t own any lyrics that may appear. If there is a character that I don’t own, I will add them to this disclaimer as I go and thank the person the char belongs to for letting me use their character. This series is very much inspired by the Anita Blake series written by Laurell K. Hamilton so there will be some similarities as far as terms used and whatnot.

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Chapter One

SAINT PATRICK’S DAY. The one day out of the year where others think it is okay to disregard another person’s personal space in the form of a pinch. Though brief and often playful painless, I found these violations a bit…grade school-lish. Why? Because my only form of ‘countable’ green had been ruined only moments ago. I had started work with a black shirt with a green picture of my version of St. Patrick. The depiction was of the stereotypical Irish man leaning heavily on the black backdrop of the shirt. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest as a grin that looked more like a sneer stretched across his face. Clenched between his teeth was a piece of straw. Atop his head was a tiny green leprechaun hat with a four leaf clover at the top. The matching green suit he was wearing was missing the sleeves and the pants bulged around his legs. I would have still been wearing it if it wasn’t for the clumsy grip of my partner, Raven Sengoku.

Regardless, I couldn’t be too hard on him. After all, a beheaded chicken is a very hard thing to hold onto while participating in one's first zombie raising. That and watching the dark haired Japanese man run around after the decapitated bird had left me laughing to the point of tears. Unfortunately, he didn't think it was that funny. His loss.

After running home to change, I was heading back to the office building I had come to know and loathe with every fiber of my being. Not that I hated my profession. It had actually been a hobby before I became employed. It's just that there's something about doing what you love on your own time that makes it enjoyable, rather than having someone control you…which was pretty much what I’d been reduced to. All thanks to a group of idiots who clearly overlooked the unspoken rules of raising the dead making freelance zombie-raising illegal.

So here I was, grudgingly looking at the sign that read “Necrofiend” in big, strict, no nonsense lettering. I had already mentioned to my boss how unprofessional the name of the business was. No one walking into a building so blatantly offering the arts of ‘black magic’ would think that they were getting the real deal. Or was I just being a dick?

I swiped my badge at the door and waited for the red light to turn green before pushing my way past the glass doors.

“Chill out.” I stated already catching two of the night guards moving from their post to eagerly frisk a new body. Had they not been your usual beer gutted, pasty skinned, handle bar mustache type officers, I honestly wouldn’t have minded so much. Heh, interpret that as you will.

“Sorry, Mister Tiaz.” Reggie, the larger of the two men, apologized. I just grunted and continued on my way across the lobby. As I passed the waiting room designated for the clients, I glanced over. You'd never know what to expect. Unlike 'normal' businesses we didn’t get the usual noon rush followed by another at four o’clock. Business hours were from sundown to just before sun up, since zombie raisers can't work when it's light out. Finding no one in the room, I continued to the elevators and pressed the button that would take me to the office levels. If the lines weren’t too busy I could look forward to going home within the next hour.

The slow hiss of the elevator reaching ground level prompted me to step back and to the side just in case someone had been inside. Sure enough, there Xavier was. I tilted my head upward to meet his icy blue eyes and I held back a snort.

“Look who the cat dragged in. I see you’re not wearing green.”

The greeting was anything but welcoming, as expected from an ex. Yes, an ex. Did you get it right? I figured you would. I rolled my eyes and looked down at myself as if in thought. I was wearing a white button down shirt that was about half a size too big and a pair of black jeans that fell neatly over black steel toe boots. It wasn’t exactly your traditional business wear, but what traditional job had their employees walking through the soft muddy grounds of a cemetery? I shrugged.
“Remember the last time you tried pinching me, Xavier?” I retorted. Being five foot nine inches, Xavier towered over me by four inches, give or take, and outweighed me by almost fifty pounds. Despite the advantage others would have thought he’d have, the memory of what had happened was enough to wipe the devious grin from the other man’s face. I smirked.

“Mind moving out of the way?” I made it a question. There was no need to add onto the hostility emitting between us. Nagumi, the owner of the business, wouldn’t stand for another mishap involving him and myself, even if I was rarely the aggressor. There was a moment of him just staring at me. It wasn’t friendly but it wasn’t unfriendly either, not yet. It was more along the lines of neutral leaning towards unfriendly. I could not have cared less.

“You either move or I’ll move you.” My voice remained as calm and collected as it had been seconds ago.

“You’d risk your job just to use an elevator, Thiago?” He questioned in a way that clearly stated he didn’t think I’d have the balls to do it. That accompanied by a lifted eyebrow and a tug at his lips – not down or up but outward – said it all.

“Risk my job? I’m the one here. Why would Nagumi get rid of me?” The statement sounded arrogant in my ears, no matter how true it was. I was the only employee that could raise the dead before and after sunrise. I was the preferred choice for those clients who insisted on being impatient or squeamish about entering a graveyard at night. Xavier was to new this, it had been the very reason we hadn’t worked out. He didn’t take well to someone younger than him being better, so he traded what we had as a couple for a rivalry. I couldn’t be bothered with him either. And now, looking at the anger growing in his gaze, I still couldn’t be bothered.

“Fuck you, Thiago.”

“A little late to try for that now isn’t it?” I cooed. Now I was just fucking with him. Sue me. He growled and sneered at me, flashing me his perfectly white teeth. Nothing impressive about them really. All neatly cut just like the rest of him. Xavier had always appeared to be one of those Mr. Perfect type of guys. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist; an athletic build. His hair was black, almost too black, like the color had come out of a box instead of any genes his parents had offered. Turns out it had. I’d lived with him long enough to know. His face, whether or not it was clean shaven, was the type of face you’d expect to see on the cover of a magazine. He even had the dimple at the center of his chin. Unfortunately under all of that perfectly tanned skin and Dolce and Gabbana wear, he was just as competitive and arrogant as they came.

I watched as he walked by and shook my head. It may have been a little sexist, but I wondered what he had been thinking when he decided that he liked boys better than girls. He had a better chance of finding a dainty, run-of-the-mill woman to stroke his ego, rather than a male.

I turned towards the elevator as it impatiently dinged for the next load of people, I stepped in and pressed the button marked 02. As the doors slid shut, I watched my distorted reflection stare back at me from the doors. As stated before, I was five foot nine and lean. An active lifestyle and genetics left me with little to no body fat and the type of facial structure that would forever leave me classified as ‘beautiful’ rather than handsome, thanks to high, delicate cheekbones, semi-almond shaped green eyes and girlishly full lips. The only imperfection that could be seen was my nose. It was proportionate of course, however it sat just slightly crooked after being broken for the third time. I didn’t mind that. It wasn’t like I could be mistaken as a woman. It just meant that there were people out there that would guess that I was strictly homosexual rather than straight or bisexual. No biggie. My hair wasn’t as clean cut as other men I worked with nor was it your conventional natural color. Red strands fell just past my ears and sometimes in my eyes. I had every intentions of letting it grow out a bit more to hide a cross shaped scar at the back of my neck that brought unwanted attention and accusations. It wasn’t exactly an overly bright color; in fact it was closer to a dark red, but something you’d expect to come from the store listed as Blood Auburn. The only thing that saved me from the infamous question of ‘what color dye do you use’ was the fact that my eyebrows and eyelashes actually matched the color. Overall, while I was as humble as they came, I knew I wasn’t the worse looking guy the city of St. Louis had to offer.

The elevator chimed, signaling that I had reached the floor I requested. I stepped out and looked around, spotting a few others as I made my way through the narrow, cubicle-walled aisle. This area always reminded me a bit of a mouse maze. I slipped my hands into my pockets -a deterrent for those overly friendly ones- and made a b-line for the coffee room.

“Ah, Tiaz, how are you today?” I was met with the greeting the moment I stepped into the small room. I grabbed an unused white mug and the coffee maker before I answered.

“Pretty good.”I said offhandedly. I didn’t bother to look up from what I was doing. I already knew what I’d be facing. Jacobs, Katherine Jacobs, was about my height in heels. She had a slightly curvy figure that would have probably looked better outside of her current loose fitting pants suit. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell it was gray with pale blue pinstripes. Those pinstripes would have made her already spring-sky blue eyes that much bluer. The dark of the gray would have made her blonde hair that much more vibrant. As I turned to leave I sneaked a glance at her over the lip of my coffee mug, taking note that she’d gone light on the makeup today. Good, she didn’t really need it.

“You’re not very social.” She said with a sigh.

I shook my head.

“Not before I get my coffee I’m not.” With that said, I took a sip of the black liquid. It was strong enough to make anyone cringe and I was no different. But I wrinkled my nose and forced it down.

“Ah…Thiago…” I paused and looked over my shoulder, watching a blush darken her cheeks.

“I was wondering…would you like to maybe go out…sometime?” I should have seen the question coming. I’d caught her and several of the other female staff giggling in the corner of the break room once or twice, looking my way. I should have been prepared. Looking at the hopefulness in her bright blue eyes, I couldn’t tell her no. I let a soft sigh pass through my nostrils and nodded slightly.

“We’ll see.” I answered and made my escape before she could pester for a more promising answer. What am I getting myself into?, I thought to myself. After the episode with Xavier I’d all but avoided fraternizing, fornicating, dealing with those I worked with and even cut off those I didn’t. The latter had more to do with the work I did outside of Necrofiend Inc., though.

I rubbed the back of my neck as I entered my office, feeling the too smooth, puffy texture of the burn there. Just under it, there was a crick forming that would be a full on tension headache by the end of the night. I sighed, audibly this time, as I gratefully flopped into my seat. One hand rested on the armrest instinctively, keeping itself from jabbing against the Browning holstered just under my jacket. A little something else that Nagumi would bitch about should she find out, though she knew it was futile. I didn’t go anywhere unarmed.

I had a moment of just enjoying the quiet sanctity of my office before noticing a manila folder sticking out from one of my drawers. They had gotten out of the habit of leaving my tasks on the desk. Judging by the three inch layer of clutter there, I could see why. I slipped the contents of the folder out and slowly began to look it over. There was a sheet telling me the client, location and the services they were asking for. I flipped the sheet to the back of the pile. It looked like I was to be traveling once again. The papers to follow were actually photos. The first was one of a hideously yellow bulldozer going across a piece of flat earth. The ground was obviously dry and somewhat on the hard side judging by the lack of tracks behind the heavy machinery. The second was of the aftermath of the bulldozer’s work and finally a close up of what the bulldozer had unearthed. A familiar knot of anticipation formed in my stomach as I looked over the various skulls and bone bits. The ones left intact had their heads tilted toward the sky, jaws open in a silent scream.

I stood from my seat and I slipped the pictures back inside the folder, then tucked it under my arm. My free hand picked up my mug once again and then I was off to find Nagumi. Her door was open when I arrived. She sat behind her desk, sipping coffee and shuffling papers about. She wore an expensive looking blazer and skirt combo. Both garments were dark gray with the same black thread crisscrossing over it. To lighten the color and not have her looking as if she were attending a funeral, she had thrown on a white camisole and black tie. Overall, it complimented her olive tanned complexion nicely. Though she looked busy, I was more than certain that most of the papers she had touched hadn’t been thoroughly read. She paused and glanced up as I slipped inside.

“Oh do come in.” She said sarcastically. I shrugged it off. Nagumi, just like every other individual, didn’t do very well during the ‘early’ hours of business. I tossed the envelope on her desk, successfully causing her to drop what papers she did have in her hand. She smiled.

“What the hell are you smiling about, Nagumi?” I questioned. Her smile, though it got rid of that principal look, was never a good sign.

“You saw the pictures?” She asked as she took up the envelope. I shrugged. There wasn’t anything very different about what I could see. For all I knew it was some contractor wanting to get rid of ghosts so they could build yet another mall or fast food place.

“Can you do anything?” Her tone was a bit too hopeful. I reclined in my seat taking a much less profession posture. She disapproved. Now that was the Nagumi I knew.

“How old are they?” I met her gaze as I asked, unaffected by the frown and glare she had set on me.

“About fifty to a hundred years old.”

It was my turn to frown.

“Any names?” The question had barely passed my lips before the answer was given in the form of her frown deepening further.

“Can’t you raise them without them?” That was always the question. Like it was that simple. I shook my head. Even if Nagumi ran the business, she didn’t know much about it. She couldn’t raise the dead; she had done no research about it. It was legal and it brought in a lot of money, that was as far as her knowledge extended.

“Chances aren’t in my favor if you don’t have at least a name.” I explained to her for the umpteenth time.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.” She waved a hand, as if it would deflect my words from reaching her ears. Too late. She knew what to expect.

“The new client asked for you by name.” Well that made sense of her persistence. “I offered Xavier but…they turned him down. Do you know what that means?”

“That Xavier is going to be pissy for the next month or so?

She frowned and waved a hand. She didn’t care too much for the saga that was my and Xavier’s quarreling no more than she liked that two of her employees were dating. Lucky for her the dating had started and ended within a month’s time.

“No, it means you’re making a reputation that exceeds everyone, including our top animators.” There was a silence after, as if it would dawn on me just how good that was for me, for the company. I didn’t care. As I said, this was a hobby for me.

It was also a way to spend the energy that built up overtime. Once someone became an animator, it opens this metaphysical door that allows energy to flow in, never out. The flow can get stronger as the animator gains experience but it will never taper off unless the animator dies. Now, imagine that energy accumulating in a room or a cup. Eventually, the room or cup will run out of space to store the energy and it’ll overflow. That is where the problem comes in. An overflow of energy changes controlled animations into something unpredictable and dangerous. I never had this happen personally and had no intentions to allow it to.

“When do I leave?” I breathed knowing that there was no talking to her. Fail or succeed, one of us would be proven right.

“A helicopter will be arriving some time tomorrow.”

That should have been my cue to leave. End of conversation, right? No. I sat there blinking slowly, wondering if I heard right. I mean, a helicopter? I hated flying with a passion. The very first time I flew, the plain had taken a nosedive toward the pavement. I would never forget the look on the stewardess’ face as she was pinned against the ceiling. Her stormy, gray eyes had been wide as she stared down at me. All I could do was offer her my hand while she cried. I felt so sorry for her. She couldn’t have been more than two years out of high school. She had a whole life ahead of her. She had begun reciting the Lord’s Prayer over the hysterical screams of those around us. I joined her. We were covered in tears and possibly vomit by the time the plane recovered and as we were unloaded from the craft, she hugged me tighter than I’d ever been hugged before. I smiled and hugged her back and that was the end of it. From what I’d been told, she had quit her job as a stewardess and was now working a far safer job on the ground as a receptionist.

“The site is in Tucson, Arizona. Be ready to leave as soon as possible.” Nagumi seemed to fail to see my discomfort with the situation. I clenched my jaw for a moment.

“Be good.”

I snorted. She was putting me on a helicopter. I’d do as I damn well pleased. Standing, I picked up my cup and left her office.

To Be Continued…..

Author’s Notes: The credit for this chapter still goes to Laurell Hamilton. The original was based off the first chapter of the first book of her Anita Blake series and kinda still is. Anyways, please let me know what you guys think of the new version. Feed back is always appreciated and is a great motivator for getting the chaps out faster. J.