The Sin Trade

[Danielle Vida]

Freiburg was located just outside of the Black Forest. It was a beautiful town that flourished with small monuments and spectacles of it's very own, unique to it. Much like the rest of the countries in this area she'd travelled, the envrionment felt archaic to her. It was all like an oil painting, not real, not breathing - just drawn. It was in a small caf? towards the center of town that she'd been approached by a woman who, with guilded curls and fine furs, seemed extremely out of place.

"Many pardons, but you are I believe the one they call Vida?" the woman spoke, her English somewhat choppy and heavily accented. Her voice was in a mid-range, but distinctly feminine. It also sounded very strained.

Danielle looked up from her morning paper, a small gust of wind blowing strands of her vanilla-blonde hair across her face. It was longer now, and hung in waves. She was trying something new. She studied the woman with her icy metal eyes, and nodded only slightly. She was halfway 'round the world and somehow she stuck out like a sore thumb? No.. this woman had found her on purpose.

"May I sit?" she asked. She didn't wait for Danielle to respond, but rather reached out and pulled the chair out, sitting down anyways. "I kow you are to wonder how I have found you," she said, her small grammatical errors not seeming to stop her from whatever important thing she had to say, "and it is true, yes, I have been searching. I am told you are the one to talk to about.. problems. With perhaps darker dealings."

Danielle glanced around, and then back to the woman. She still said nothing, but the woman understood that by not getting up and leaving, it was an indication to continue.

"My son.." she said, pulling a picture out of an expensive-looking brown leather purse. "Renke von Lowe. I have reason to believe he is dead. Or worse. I need your services to find out one way or the other, and.. solve the problem. You will be rewarded, of course. We are wealthy in other parts, we simply enjoy our privacy on the edge of this town." She stood, and gave Danielle a piece of paper with their address on it. "This is our home, just away from the thick of the forest. Please, come tonight and meet with my husband and I. We can make arrangements.

The von Lowe family had contracted Danielle out in hopes of retrieving their wayward son, Renke, from some sort of cult he'd fallen into. They believed he had crossed over to a land of darkness and their instructions were very specific to Danielle: If he has turned, kill him.

That night, she stood in the study of the large house that the von Lowe's owned. It was perhaps too big, almost like some sort of mansion, though, she preferred this finely crafted German archetecture to that of the Stucco mansions in California. It was old, and real, not polished and plastic.

Soft steps walked her across the thick red rug on the floor, past the fireplace to look at the mantle. Pictures of the family, she noted. The husband, Frans, and the wife, Adelle. The son, Renke - she reached up and plucked one that lay in a silver frame. She drew it down to get a closer look at it. Danielle had no sense of personal privacy when she'd been contracted. As far as she was concerned, this whole house and anything directly related to her job, which was the "care" of Renke, was now hers to comb through as she saw fit.

"He is a handsome boy, yes?" Adella said from the doorway. Danielle turned, picture still in hand. Renke was not like his mother, small and golden, but more like his father - tall, with sharp features and dark detailing. Black hair, brown eyes, lightly tanned skin. She wondered if they were all German by blood or if there was other ancestry to thank.

"I couldn't say for certain," she answered honestly. Danielle didn't really feel "attraction" like normal people did. She had either trained it all out of herself or never had it to begin with. "He is what could be considered good looking, I suppose." She set the picture back without a second thought.

"Please, sit. We have much to discuss. Frans just returned home. I will bring you a drink," Adelle said, before disappearing into the next room. Danielle sat, though she preferred to stand, and awaited the information the von Lowe's had acquired, through money and force, that would determine how Danielle was going to formulate and execute her plan.

Danielle's information had led her to a private club just outside of town. It was one of several dark European dance clubs she'd had the displeasure of being a guest in, and she wanted to leave the moment she was accepted through the doors. Through the stench of smoke and sex she made her way to the back of the club, leaning across the bar to let her low cut top emphasize her.. assets.

"Wo ist dies Mann?" she asked the bartender, who was ripe in her early 20s with day-glo orange hair and more eyeliner than Danielle had EVER seen on a human. She held up a picture of Renke, and watched carefully for the tender's expression.

The orange-glow woman laughed, covering her mouth with her hands. Long, fake nails painted a matching shade of orange seemed to luminesce under the blacklighting of the bar area. "Ohhhh, Das ist Renke! Sind Sie ein b?ser Liebhaber?

Danielle roughly understood what the woman meant - Was she an angry girlfriend? And Danielle was pretty sure she could play the part, but it didn't seem to be useful to her at the moment. She took another approach. She leaned across the bar further and smiled broadly.

"Nein hat er etwas f?r mich... Aber er ist nicht mein Typ. Ich bevorzuge etwas.. weicher." She basically told the woman she didn't swing his way, but she'd swing hers.

The tender's eyes widened a little, and she gave Danielle the once-over. "Er ist im Obergeschoss. Ich bin ab Arbeit in einer Stunde."

Great, she was wondering where those stairs had gone. She glanced back at the woman. Off work in an hour? Danielle didn't realize she was so appealing. She leaned across the bar completely, lifting her legs up to balance herself. "Ich kann warten.." she said in the woman's ear, flicking her tongue out.

She left the tender flushed, and vanished back into the thick of the bodies in the dance floor. She could feel vampiric aura, though it was so faint - they were close, but far? Or young.. Very young. She wasn't sure she knew what was going to happen if someone was simply masking an ancient aura to feel like a youthful one, but she had a feeling that in the environment she was submerged into, this was going to be an easy job. Someone probably turned the wrong person, who turned the wrong person, who went to all their friends and made them into little shit vampires and now they think they're gods.. It happened more than Danielle would care to admit - more than any would care to admit. You get a young pariah and give them the gift of eternal life and they're bound to start some sort of cult.

Danielle ignored grabs to her behind and arms, people tugging at her hair and trying to pull her into their dancing - she wasn't interested, and never would be. She wasn't sure how she could play the part of a lustful girl so well and on the inside feel.. zip. She was good at acting, she supposed. She got to the stairs and winked at the large bald man guarding them. Her fingers slid down his leg and he grabbed her hand forcefully. Before he had a chance to utter whatever threat he was going to, she drew him in and gestured to the tender, who was still looking at her.

"Mein Freund und ich w?rden Ihre Anwesenheit sp?ter m?gen," she said in his ear. She gave a little wave to the orange-haired woman, and the woman in turn trailed a fingertip from her lower lip to the top of her chest. The man swallowed and looked from her to Danielle.

"Two.. at once?" he asked, his English very forced. He could tell by the way her accent lilted that German was not her first language.

Danielle began to slide by him, making sure to press herself against him on the narrow metal staircase. "In an hour," she said. "I just need to see a friend first. He's expecting me."

The man released her at once, nodding vigarously. "One hour then." She heard him say something to himself as she headed up the stairs about finally becoming a real man, but it was in German and she couldn't be sure she'd heard correctly. She probably had.

Once she opened the door, the scent of death washed over her and made her rock back on her feet. There were a few bodies strewn about - it looked like they had just fed. The bodies were alive, though - boys and girls both, with puncture wounds in various, interesting places. She picked her way around them steadily, no immediate interest in their presence. She'd kill them if they got in her way, but that was it. No need to be messy.

The presence of vampires was becoming very strong, though it was still such a weak line. She wagered her theory was correct - a bunch of misfits with no conception of their own power. She went after them one at a time, the weapon of choice a blade that Adella had given her before she'd left. It was strange, golden, and tingled to the touch. It whispered many things to her - things she should not know. The hilt was thick and woven, and Adella had said only, "It has been in my family for many years. Be careful not to cut yourself with it." She knew it was bad. She knew it was bad, but it fit her hand so well, worked with her.. so perfectly. It was almost overkill, but it definitely saved her from having to hack them up into bits - she enjoyed bits.

She enjoyed bits so much, in fact, that she went back into the next room, where the music was heavy and the base shook the walls, and systematically began eliminating the bleeders. Her lips fell into a sneer as she grabbed the first who was up and walking by her hair, slamming her into the wall with a forced shove. She heard the impact of bones in her face crunching, and let go abruptly. Danielle was strong - so much stronger than they were, especially weak from blood loss. And she was in the moment, in her kill zone. She couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop.

A male jumped at her back, and for all intents and purposes by sheer size he should have taken her to the ground. Danielle, however, had other plans. She sidestepped, drawing a different blade - a plain blade, from her person, and stuck it into his gut. She twisted it, hard, and stepped back as he fell to his knees. She walked past the body as it fell to the ground with a thump.

The others were now aware of what was going on, and began to have hysterics. The girls screamed, running around the couch, into eachother, like a pair of ninnies. She didn't have time for this. Danielle had not yet found the face of Renke, and she was going to get this job done one way or the other.

"I don't want to kill you, you understand, but you just saw me slice and dice, and you know, if you'd just stayed asleep.. Oh well." Danielle threw the blade as hard as she could, catching one of the girls in the neck. There was a strange gurgle from the body as it vanished from site behind the couch, leaving the other girl exposed and open.

She was begging Danielle in German. Something, something, I won't tell. She lifted her feet carefully, not stepping on the two dead bodies that were closest to her. "RENKE!" she screamed, voice scratchy from the cold weather outside. She walked past the girl, seeming to ignore her. Danielle could hear movement coming from the next room, a door opening. The girl was still frozen in terror, and Danielle let her be for the moment.

A man emerged from the back room, and it could only be assumed her was her query - that, or an evil twin of some sort. Danielle studied him quickly - he was still human. He was slightly wounded, but otherwise in tact. He was.. she frowned. She noticed bike marks on his arm, and again on his neck. He was a bleeder? He left his life of wealth and power to be a lollipop to a bunch of pseudogods? She blinked rapidly. Heat poured into her body, rage. All that he had, he walked away from for this? He looked half-drunk. Not even aware of his surroundings. She could sense power from him, but it was useless.

What a waste.

"Who are you?" he asked, English slurred, but better than his mother's. He smiled lightly at her, leaning against the door. "Are you a gift from the gods?" A gift, a whore? From the gods.. the.. vampires? Gods?

"I'm a gift, yes," she said carefully. She smiled, a forced act, and then.. it brightened suddenly. Bled into her eyes. She really was smiling, now. Joyous. Proud.

"What are you here to do, then, my angel?" Renke asked again, brows raising suggestively.

Danielle drew a gun from the back of her pants, which had been hidden by the duster she wore. H&K USP .45. She aimed it at his head.

"I'm here to save you," she said, tone completely flat. She pulled the trigger and turned in one motion, not watching to see his body fly back into the wall from the brute force of the bullet. She had no desire to see the aftermath.

The girl behind her screamed at the top of her lungs, and Danielle fired two rounds into her chest, pinning her to the wall by the door where she'd run. The music below was so loud nobody heard anything, and when Danielle emerged from the room, hair slightly damp and touseled, nobody thought anything either. She scaled the steps with ease, as the man previously guarding them was at the bar flirting with the tender. Danielle glanced over as she slipped through the crowd. They wouldn't miss her. They didn't even remember her at this point. She was just a pretty American girl in the crowd, and in a few moments, she wasn't even that.

It wasn't the first time Danielle had human blood on her hands.. Innocent blood. She returned to the von Lowe estate early in the morning, when everything was still blue and grey and nothing had yet begun to stir. She told them what had happened, and skipped the smaller details in favour of broad, general answers.

"So he is.. deceased, then?" Frans asked, leaning forward to look at her, a dark expression in his eyes.

Danielle stood by the fireplace, examining the golden blade that seemed to kill so precisely, so instantly. "He was dead when I got there. He just needed to be reminded." She glanced up, grey eyes hard, empty.

Frans seemed to understand what she meant, and looked to his wife. The blonde woman walked to Danielle and touched her arm. "We can pay you now.. with American dollars. Or tomorrow in Euros. Whichever you are preferring. But also.. I would like that you keep the knife. It is of no use to us. It.. holds no real value to us."

Danielle glanced at the woman. She had a strange urge to give the blade back, to rid herself of it's influence. Instead she said, "I know you know what this is. What bothers me is that I don't. But I can find out." She straightened up and the blade disappeared within the folds of her fitted jacket. "I will keep it. It may be of.. great use to me."

She left by bus later the same morning, and continued to travel until she reached the international airport in Dusseldorf. She booked a few more locations in Europe, for a day or two at a time, and then flew out of London Heathrow via British Airways to JFK in New York.

"I don't know what's happening to me, Sarah," she said on the phone before she left London.
"It's just part of the sin trade, Danielle. Pray to the goddess you come out ahead."