Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2001 09:43:49 EDT
From: DivineGlow@aol.com
Subject: Under Locke and Key Part 1 (sf-fantasy)

Well hello! This proves the Glow dims but never fades. Ok. I have a lot to
go through here so bear with me. First off, this is a very dark story. It's
violent. Not graphically (not yet at least) but its not pretty either. If
this ain't your cup o tea finish this sentence and leave. Second, don't
read if you are under 18. Sorry guys, laws are laws (which is why a lot of
them are broken). Third, if you can handle violence but gay relationships
make your dinner want to do an encore performance, finish this sentence and
leave.  If you are still with me at this point that means the above doesn't
apply to you or you chose to ignore the previous warnings. Either way, I
take no responsibility for your reaction to this story. Ok, now that we got
that out of the way one last little warning. If you like to have a lot of
sex with plot tossed in. This probly ain't for you. Nothing wrong with
those stories, I like them too. I just can't write one worthy of showing to
another human being. If you like your plot with sex added to make things
interesting, then I hope you enjoy. Feel free to skip to the story at this
point, the rest of my ramblings are just a bit of background as to how this
story came to be.

Ok. This is a landmark story for me. While all my stories have been
inspired by White Wolf Studios World of Darkness, this is the first story
that I am doing inside this setting. This is also the first time I have not
created a setting for my story. Now for those of you that don't know what
the World of Darkness is, I am going to try and give a brief explanation.
For all intents and purposes this world is very much like the one we live
in. But its much more gothic with a hint of noir pinched in for flavor.
Corruption runs rampant and unchecked and secret wars are being fought by a
large number of groups that most humans don't even know exist let alone the
fact that they are fighting each other and themselves. We are talking about
Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, Wraiths, Mummies, Technocrats, and more. Oh
my. You will note I don't mention any specific city name. It's not New York
for obvious reasons. Its much more Chicago like anyways. Actually, maybe
more like Denver. But its name doesn't affect the story one bit. It's a
city. Nuff said. Put it where you think it belongs, name it if you want.
White Wolf Studios has put a lot of heart and soul into this world, and I
cant say how happy I am that they did. A better setting for any number of
stories has never been conceived. With that in mind, I only hope I do
justice to their creation by adding a bit of my own imagination to it. And
to those of you who know what I am talking about, I hope I portray the
World of Darkness close to how you see it. Let me know if you disagree. Now
I am done, so go read it already.

************************************************************************

Under Locke and Key


Isaac was very much like his peers, completely different from everyone
else. He just had a bad habit of having that fact stand out more often than
others. Around school he earned the nick name "Boy Wonder" He seemed to do
everything right. Even at his young age of 15 years, his perfect SAT scores
already brought him a number of offers for scholarships. The sophomore that
everyone wanted to be. He was a member of numerous school activities, from
sports to music to student council. Everyone knew him, and most loved
him. Teachers were already talking Presidency. Not of the student council,
but of the United States.

His parents were obviously proud of their only son. Happy that he could
look forward to providing a better life for himself than they could
give. His father being a factory worker and his mother a secretary for a
small company, they barely managed to afford rent for their two bedroom
apartment. Isaac was looking forward to his bright future; concentrating
hard on his school work, knowing in two years his life would truly
begin. And yet somehow Fate always manages to tap us on the shoulder when
we aren't looking.

Fate happened to catch Isaac on a cold autumn night walking home from the
store with his mother, groceries in hand. Isaac easily spotted the group of
seven men staggering towards them. Right away he could see how drunk they
were. Not thinking anything of it he and his mother continued forward on
their path, stepping to the side at the appropriate time. But this was
definitely the wrong place and the wrong time.

"Hey fellas! Check out this hottie!" The first man in the group spotted
Isaac's mom standing against the wall to let them pass. His comment was
quickly followed by cat calls and whistles. Isaac and his mother stayed
where they were hoping they would have the look and move on. But the first
man walked casually over and placed his hand on the wall next to her head.

"Hey there, good looking." His speech slurred horribly "Since you have all
that food there, whaddya say you come home and cook for me and my buddies."
Isaac knew he had to step in at this point.

"Leave my mother alone you jerk!" The mans free hand came out of nowhere
and caught Isaac square in the jaw, knocking him into the group of men,
which quickly grabbed hold of him. Two bags were sent to the snow, their
contents spilling in various directions.

"Quiet kid, this is an adult conversation." Isaac struggled to free himself
but to no avail three men where holding him firmly. Isaacs mother tried to
reach her son but was blocked by the man.

"I don't think you answered my question. You do like to cook don't you?"

"Let me and my son go."

"Forget about him, why don't we have a look at what you can cook for us?"
He roughly grabbed the bag from her hands and started going through it,
keeping himself between her and Isaac. While he was distracted, she reached
into her purse and quickly fingered 911 on her cell phone. The man looked
up and saw her hand in her purse. Tossing the bag aside he ripped her purse
from her shoulder and sent it in the same direction as the groceries.

"Hey now! Just what did you think you were doing? Pepper spray or
something? After we had been so polite and everything?" The group laughed
even as Isaac fought for his freedom. She wanted to run for help but there
was no way she was going to leave her son behind. She looked around
desperately; the street was all but deserted.

"Besides all that food in there is crap, but you look good enough to
eat. You hungry guys?!?" A cheer erupted from behind him. "Hear that? They
are hungry. Wanna come and feed us? Looks like you have got plenty." With
that he reached out with both hands, grabbing her chest. She slapped him on
reflex. He brought a hand to his cheek in surprise, but was not very phased
by the hit. He gave her a quick punch to the stomach in response.

Isaac screamed in rage, and with the added adrenaline, swung wildly. The
men let go in shock and Isaac charged the man standing in front of his
mother. Isaac put his soul into the tackle, but the best he managed was
cause the much larger man to take a step back. Isaac felt hands encircle
his neck as he was lifted off the ground and slammed into the wall. Isaac
looked down at his mother who was still clutching her belly and gasping for
air.

"What's the matter kid? Jealous? Fraid that she is going to steal all the
action? Don't worry we got some for you to." Isaac never saw the beer
bottle that sent him tumbling into darkness.

************************************************************************

Isaac woke in the back of an ambulance. Paramedics where treating the gash
in his forehead. He sat up quickly and pain flared through his small
frame. The medics pushed him back down to the stretcher. Isaac was in a
frenzy, it took four medics to hold him down long enough for the syringe to
be placed in his arm. The whole time he was screaming out for his mother.

The hum of a darkened hospital room greeted Isaac when he opened his eyes
again. And again he sat up, but the pain was still there and he quickly
fell back to the bed.

"Isaac?"

"Dad?" A figure stood up from a chair to Isaac's right side and moved over
to him. He recognized his fathers figure in the darkness. "Dad? Where's
Mom?" Pain swept over and contorted his fathers visage, Isaac knew the
answer but he needed to hear it.

"She was... already gone by the...by the time the cops showed up." The
words struggled to come out. The man fell to his knees and buried his face
into his son's arm, weeping like a lost child. Isaac turned his gaze upward
to look upon the sterile ceiling tiles, single tears falling down either
side of his bruised face.

************************************************************************

The trial started two weeks later. Four of the men had been caught,
including the ringleader. Isaac was truly shocked to find out that his
assailant was none other than Johan Skye, heir to the Skye Technologies
throne. Everyone knew of him or at least his company. Their building
towered over the rest of the city; the only clean looking building
left. They controlled everything, the communications, the electricity, the
trash pick up, everything.

Isaac felt his heart fall into his stomach as he sat down. Here he was, in
a trial against the second most powerful man in the city. He watched the
proceedings carefully following every step and trying to use all the legal
knowledge he could muster. It didn't take long to see the odds were against
him. The judge overruled every objection the DA attempted and several
witness vouched for Johan saying he was at other places at the time. The
court seemed to over look the fact that the officers had caught him trying
to flee from the scene and his voice on the recordings from the 911 call
his mother made.

The other men with Johan were not so fortunate. While Johan's lawyers
managed to disprove every point the prosecution made, the other three men
were trapped by all the evidence. They even managed to get positive DNA
matches from both Isaac and his mother. Not surprisingly, Johan's DNA was
not found at the scene. 2 months into the trial things came to a
head. Isaac missed everyday of school to attend the trial. Hoping he could
find something to subvert Johan's lawyers and coming up empty.  So when
called to the stand he did the best he could to recreate what happened and
point out Johan as the ringleader. For all his abilities, his emotions set
him back. His anger and sadness prevented him from answering the questions
to the best of his ability. And the defense made short work of his
testimony, saying he was to emotionally disturbed by the crime to be a
reliable witness. Isaac lost control and had to be dragged from the room by
several bailiffs.

That was all the convincing the jury needed. Three days later both
arguments were finished. In a matter of hours the jury had decided. Isaac
watched as the decision was read aloud. Johan was deemed not guilty of all
charges, while the other three were found guilty on all counts. Isaac stood
as Johan and his lawyers stood and shook hands. Johan turned to him and
their eyes locked for a brief moment. Johan smiled darkly. Isaac stared
back without emotion, then turned and walked out of the courtroom.

That night Isaac woke up to his alarm clock. It was 2 AM. He grabbed the
small backpack he had prepared and stepped quietly out of his room. He
walked slowly into the main room of the apartment. He was not surprised to
find his father still there, having cried himself to sleep in his chair
again. Isaac tiptoed lightly over to his father, placing a small envelope
of paper in his lap. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he knew this was
his last chance to turn back. With a tear in his eye, he bent forward and
kissed his father on the forehead. The door closed silently behind him.

That morning, Isaac's father woke and found the note. He read it out loud
to him self.

"Dear father. I don't know where to begin. I loved you and Mom so much. You
have been everything a kid could want in a parent. Doing the best for me
despite the problems you faced. I will always love you for that. I know my
leaving will cause you pain. And for that I am sorry. But I can't take part
in or support any longer a society that lets the guilty walk free while the
innocent suffer. Where the powerful abuse the weak. I hoped that one day, I
would be able to change that. Now there is no hope left in me. Perhaps
someday in the future, we will be reunited as a family again. Till that
day, I will always be your proud son. Isaac."

************************************************************************

Locke had been on the streets of the city for almost five weeks now. Winter
hit the city full force as December started, leaving it covered in snow for
some time now. Locke left everything behind. Everything he brought with him
only reminded him of his past life so he ditched it in a dumpster and moved
on. He kept his leather jacket, more out of need than sentimentality.

Snow fell like feathers from heaven as he walked down the street. He pulled
his jacket close around him and headed to one of the local shelters that he
had learned of. The night was too cold to sleep outside. He looked up and
even through the blinding snowfall he could see the lights of the Skye
Center standing in the center of the city skyline. The need for vengeance
welled up inside him. Johan had not only killed his mother, he had killed
Isaac as well. While breath still passed his lips, the person who was Isaac
was forever lost.

In his place stood Locke, the hardened boy who stared into the sky, letting
snow fall on his dirty face. Isaac's dark hair had been cut very short
covered buy a backwards cap he found in a dumpster. The jacket was pulled
over a warm, tight long sleeve shirt. The black collar wrapped warmly
around his neck. His jeans had been barely surviving the previous weeks. A
few holes had begun but nothing major. Brown eyes that tried their best to
be emotionless and unfeeling blinked at the beauty of the snow. His short
frame shivered reminding him of just how cold it could get.

Locke had made the decision to change his name the first night. As he lay
in a trash pile, failing to sleep, he knew he would never be able to go
back to the person he was. So he took his middle name and all but forgot
the rest. He wondered why he even needed a name; he never talked to anyone.

Locke shook his head. He was still thinking about the past too much. He
continued on his way for several more steps when he heard the sounds of
cars behind him. Just from hearing the engines he knew the drivers were
going to fast for dry roads, let alone the snow covered one he stood next
to. He spun around to see five cars flying down the street towards him. The
cars were intentionally slamming into each other, trying to knock the
others off the street. Fate had obviously not been kind to one of the
drivers in the category of car selection. Locke watched as a large truck
was slamming itself into what was once a brand new VW Bug.

Locke didn't waist too much time watching before diving back into alley he
was thankful to be standing next to. After achieving what he thought to be
a safe distance inside, he heard the horrid sound of twisting metal. He
could do little but stand there and watch in awe as the Bug flew into the
alley wall at least 15 feet off the ground. It fell to a heap as gravity
regained its hold and the other cars drove past, the sounds of evil laugher
echoing in the night. The silence of winter returned in short order. Locke
could hardly believe he watched a car fly through the air; well, it was a
car once. Now it was an unidentifiable mass of metal. Little pieces of neon
green covered the area and several wisps of smoke floated out of where
Locke assumed the engine used to be.

In his short time spent on the streets, Locke had seen things that where
both horrible and terrifying. And he took it all with his calm and cool
demeanor as best he could. But when he was about to continue on his way and
saw movement from the wreckage, he nearly jumped free of his
skin. Scrambling back several steps he tripped over something and fell into
a trash heap. Too surprised to move, he stared intently as what he assumed
was the driver, dug themselves free. Locke's breath caught in his throat as
the driver jumped up through the metal and stood on the pile.

The black leather vest clung tightly to his back, his muscles showing
briefly every time the wind blew the raven black hair out of the way. The
hair was quite long falling past the lower back, just barely touching the
leather clad butt. The pants were as tight and black as the vest above,
looking much like a cat suit, and showing off every curve they could get a
hold of. He was quite tall and slender. Spikes adorned his wrists as well
as his neck, and Locke watched as the six inch fingernails shank back to a
more normal size.

Locke decided he had not only seen enough, but probably way more than any
human had intended to. He hopped up and ran down the alley as fast as he
possibly could. He had not made more than forty feet of distance before he
felt something wrap around his foot and lock into place. It was a stark
contrast from looking at the black of the alley to seeing the on rushing
white of the alley floor. But it wasn't enough to stop Locke's survival
instinct. He quickly flipped over to see what he was wrapped in. This was
enough to put a pin in his survival instinct. The creature had not moved
from where it stood except to turn around, but the arm of his shadow had
reached across the alley to grab Locke's ankle.

Lock simply sat there, staring at the solidified shadow in pure shock. His
trademark deadpan face was chiseled into place. He just could not believe
this was happening. The man slowly started walking to Locke. Very slowly,
Locke moved his gaze from his foot, to the thing that was walking in his
direction. His front was much like his back. His frame seemed quite slim
but the muscle was obviously there, well defined on the visible chest and
arms. But it was the face that caught Locke. Very thin with a small pointed
chin and a matching nose. High cheekbones and sharp eyebrows framed the
small dark eyes. Some of his hair fell to cover the left half of the face
and a small smile hinted a bit of white to the otherwise dark being.

Locke knew what it was now. It didn't take much effort to find the
answer. Believing that it was actually walking to him at that moment was
the difficult part. Locke just hoped it was hungry enough to make this a
quick experience. The vampire came to a stop and lowered itself to one
knee, staring Locke dead in the face. It studied him for a moment before
speaking, his voice as dark and smooth as the rest of him.

"Hello little one..." Locke felt the hairs on his neck stand on end but his
face remained unchanged. If he was going to stare death in the face, he
wasn't going to give it the pleasure of seeing fear.

"Can you speak, little one?" Locke remained silent and unmoving, save for
the rise and fall of his chest.

"Well, if you don't say something soon, I just might eat you." Locke's
survival instinct made a fast recovery.

"What do you want with me?"

"I simply wanted to ask you a question or two."

"I doubt there is anything you could stand to learn from me." Locke felt
himself grow bolder, despite his fear.

"Well its more a matter of opinion."

"Then I will answer as best I can."

"If you were trying to challenge yourself, yet still have a chance, which
car would you have taken?" Locke was truly blindsided.

"What?"

"I thought the Bug was a good choice, looked solid, but it just can't hit
hard enough." Locke had no clue what he was talking about. He decided to
wing it.

"Do you mean which car could stand up to that truck?"

"Yes." Locke stopped to think, his fear was lost in the absurdity of the
question.

"Well... if you were going with a smaller car that had stopping power, you
would definitely want to go with an older car. One made out of steel
preferably. Any old Ford or Chevy would do. On the downside you wouldn't
have very good handling, especially in this weather." Locke felt Isaac
tingling the back of his mind, so he quickly forced it away. "Wait a
second, why the hell would you ask me a question like that?"

"Some day I am going to prove to them that I am the best driver in the
group. I just need the right car to prove it in. What is your name, little
one?"

"Isa...Locke." Locke barely caught himself, realizing it was the first time
he used the name with another person. Person? Well, close enough.

"So tell me Locke, what are you doing out this late at night? Shouldn't you
be at home safe in bed?"

"I don't have a home." Locke was angered for being forced to remember a
past he wanted to forget.

"A cute kid like you wouldn't be on the streets alone unless something went
wrong somewhere. What happened?" Now Locke was really angry.

"What the hell do you care!?" The man didn't flinch.

"I was just curious, I don't get the chance to have a civil conversation
very often." Locke was completely pissed off. Why the hell would a minion
of darkness want to have civil conversation with anyone, let alone its
food?

"Could that possibly be because you're a bloodsucking fiend?" The man still
had that smooth half smile despite the insult.

"For the most part, yes. My fellow 'bloodsucking fiends' are still quite
young and foolish."

"Well I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends, so why don't you let
me go?" Locke had accepted the fact that if it was going to kill him, it
would have already, so he wasn't going to show it any courtesy.

"I was actually thinking about staying for a while."

"Great, so are you are going to drink my blood after all."

"Yes." Locke's comment was from the heart of sarcasm, so the frank answer
was unexpected, to say the least.

"Well at least your honest." The vampire chuckled, and Locke did as well
when he realized how funny this conversation began to sound.

"Well, you know my name, the least you could do is tell me yours."

"You may call me Marcellus."

"Are you going to kill me Marcellus?"

"I was going to let you decide that." Locke was yet again blindsided.

"What?"

"I believe you heard me."

"Yeah I did, but I don't understand. Why do you care if I live or die? I am
just food."

"You are right I don't care. But that's not the question. Do you have
something to live for, or are you just out here to die away like every
other punk kid I see on a daily basis? If you want to die, then I have no
problem speeding the process. But if you have something you truly want to
live for, I wouldn't want to deprive you of that." Locke sat with his mouth
wide. He believed in vampires now, but he just couldn't believe what he
just heard one say.

"You are the most amazing thing I have ever seen." Marcellus chuckled but
quickly turned very serious.

"Thank you, but you are running out of time. I would love to talk with you
all night but I am quite hungry and have other plans. So I ask again, do
you want to die?"

 Locke seriously pondered the thought. He had thrown his entire life away
little more than a month ago, and spent his time trying to survive on the
streets, for what? Why did he make the decisions that brought him to this
point? Why wasn't he warm at home with his father, going to school, and
making something of his life? Why? He knew why. He knew why he gave up his
identity, why he became Locke, why he was hardening himself. It was simple,
overdone, but simple.

"No. I want to live."

"Why?"

"Revenge."

"Someone hurt you. Badly."

"Someone raped and killed people very dear to me. Some day I plan to return
the favor." Locke felt the cold hand come to rest on his face. He wondered
if it was the weather, or the lack of life that made it that way.

"Well Isaac, I hope you get the chance someday." Locke was blindsided for
the third time. But he didn't have time to voice any questions. He saw the
fangs clearly and his whole body tensed up as Marcellus moved close to his
neck. Lock braced with all his might as he felt the fangs sink into his
flesh. He was ready for the pain of having his life drained away. All he
received was euphoria. The feeling was nearly indescribable in English. The
only words that even came close were bliss, nirvana, and orgasmic. Locke
couldn't see anything and could barely feel his body. For a short moment in
time he was at peace.

And as quickly as it began it was gone. Like the turning off of a light
bulb, it faded quickly. Locke awoke to find himself sitting behind a
dumpster covered in trash. He blinked several times. Was it real? He slowly
brought his hand to his neck. Nothing. Not a single mark. He looked over
himself. Nothing, no blood on anything. Just as disappointment set in he
felt it. A slight dampness in his shorts. He tentatively reached a hand
inside and checked. Not enough to be urine. That could mean only one
thing. Locke looked up at the night sky again. The snow had stopped.



Well there you have it. Quick answers to obvious questions. Yes there is
more. Yes I am working on it. No I have no idea when I will get it done. I
work as hard as I can but I am very picky with my writing before I send it
out. Any of you who know my writing habits know not to hold your breath for
too long. As soon as it's done I send it. I know. I hate it too, but it
never seems like I have enough time to write these days.  Now if you have
any other questions, let me know at DivineGlow@aol.com. I try to always
write back, but I have been slack as of let. I hate work, did I mention
that yet? See you for part 2!