B007XKEWAE EBOK by Nicola Lawson Page B

vampire garb. So only one person needed to be a vampire to get in then, or else they let pretty young girls in regardless.
    The band finished their set and left the stage to a round of applause and they joined their fans. The pre-recorded music stayed off and a single vampire stood centre stage. He looked out over the gathered crowd and smiled.
    "Time for some more entertainment," he said. "A special treat. I know that there are some of my brothers and sisters who were there with me when this truly happened but for the rest of you, and for those of you who are human for now, we present this re-enactment."
    He paused for dramatic effect. There was a hush over the throng.
    "The crucifixion."
    The crowd erupted. The lead vampire on stage pulled the velvet from the wall behind him to reveal a large wooden cross. He beckoned off the stage and a pair of vampires in pseudo-roman armour dragged a young man up on to the platform. He wore a cloth wrapped around his lower half but no other clothes. When the trio reached the leader he placed a crown made of twisted barbed wire on the humans head and twisted it around to tear the skin. Blood trickled down the human's face and onto his chest. Their chosen sacrifice screamed with the pain and the watchers roared with laughter.
    As he scanned the multitude he saw that not all those gathered were enjoying the spectacle. A small number of people, newer arrivals who had not seen the earlier display of bloodletting, seemed to suddenly wonder what they had got themselves into.
    He found it difficult to feel any sympathy for them. Even the fantasised legends those morons believed in had to have contained something about the violent nature of the vampire existence. Or maybe not. Fantasy stories created to comfort humans too scared to open their eyes to the world around them didn't need to be based on reality.
    Not all vampires were cruel, that kind of a generalisation was like saying all black men had great rhythm or all white men make poor boxers. But as with those examples there was a reason for thinking of vampires as cruel because the majority of them were. Fulton figured it to be some by-product of the vampire lifestyle. They were violent by nature and given their greater strength and overall superiority over humans, plus the fact that they had to eat them, it made humans seem unimportant as people. They saw them as livestock, nothing more. Over time whatever goodness a vampire had vanished as they grew into feral beasts. He also had suspicions that vampires only turned those they could dominate or control, or those humans who were at least bordering on the sociopathic. But these were all theories, for any actual answers he needed to find Francesca.
    Meanwhile the newly crowned sacrifice was dragged kicking and screaming to the back of the stage where the cross awaited. The lead vampire directed his servants and they used leather straps to bind him to the cross by his forearms. Another strap was pulled taut around his neck, barely stopping short of strangling the man. Yet more straps bound his legs to the cross halfway between knee and ankle.
    The helpers left the stage and another hush fell over the gathering. The lead vampire walked to the edge of the stage and received a small bundle from one of his followers. He raised the bundle above his head and let the rich plum velvet unroll. Held dandling from his raised right hand, fixed onto the velvet roll, was a wooden mallet and five blood encrusted and rusty spikes. Not that the victim would be alive long enough to worry about an infection.
    He ached to get up there and stop this barbarism. This couldn't be what he was. But Fulton waited and let it continue. His fists at his side opening and closing, over and over.
    Up on stage a single spike was pressed against the victims left wrist. Slowly the hammer was pulled back and in one smooth motion the vampire brought it forwards to slam against the end of the spike and force it through flesh and