Skyscraper

Believe it or not, it really happened. But if someone told me, I probably wouldn't believe it either, just like the people keeping me here. I arrived at the plant on May 3, 1997, three months after I started working at Merkson i Sp. – a promising computer software company. They were interested in me as a graphic designer. From the beginning, my boss seemed strange, even diabolical, but everything would have turned out fine if he hadn't stayed late one day to finish the company's new logo before Sunday. It was very late; I probably would have left a little earlier if it weren't for the storm raging outside. From the thirty-sixth floor, I could see it had covered almost the entire city. At 25, I hadn't yet acquired a car, and the subway was about 300 meters away.

The offices were designed in the American style, meaning the huge room was divided into small cubicles – workstations – using low cardboard partitions. Of course, just like in America (the whole damn company was designed to be American; even the boss had changed his name from Tomasz Merksiński to Tom Merkson, the asshole). The boss's office was separate and glass-walled, allowing for a view of the company's flourishing operations.

I'd just turned off my computer and was bracing myself for getting soaking wet when I suddenly heard a scream coming from the boss's office. The blinds were closed; I was sure no one was there, but someone was having a lively conversation. I quietly approached the windows and peered through the narrow gaps between the blinds. American Tom was talking to someone sitting in an armchair out of my sight. All I could see was the other person's black patent leather foot.

"How many more times are you going to bother me?" I'm saying this for the hundredth time, and I hope it's the last. We want to remain independent, free, we live in our own world, we don't disturb you in any way..." my employer shouted.

"Wait a minute," said the owner of the patent leather jacket, "and Krzesimir..."

"Krzesimir was an exception, after all, he already paid for...

" "For murdering two Elders, members of the Council who had supported the Conclave and the Prince with their experience for centuries...

" "Experience?! They were savage murderers for whom satisfying their Hunger was as easy as turning on a television or radio...

" "If it weren't for them, we would have been slaughtered by the Drakkons like pigs, and meanwhile, the Conclave has gained a new ally...

" "Don't you understand? The Drakkons are murderers, today they're with you, tomorrow they'll kill you..." Tom explained fiercely.

"That's your opinion...

" "Yes, mine, and neither you nor your agent Cecilia will convince us to join..."

"Someone's eavesdropping on us," the "paint technician" said, and his words hit me like a bowl of hot water.

"If it's one of mine, then no problem, I have no secrets..." Tom stammered.

"He's a mortal!!! He's right behind that wall..." the "paint technician" added calmly, tapping his shoe on the wall behind which I was hiding.

Third day on the job and such a mishap with the boss...

"Sir... excuse me, I forgot your dignity..." I heard the boss's voice right behind me, "could you tell me such a sweet secret, what are you doing at work so late at night, huh?"

At the sight of him, I pressed myself even closer to the wall. I'd never seen him like this before; he looked different, his complexion paled, his lips reddened, he looked even more diabolical than when I first met him. Suddenly, everything went dark...

Dark circles began to appear before my eyes, I felt awkward in my sitting position, I felt faint, and I could barely lift my eyelids. What did they drug me with?

"He woke up," I heard the voice of the "varnisher," and I saw that it belonged to a well-built black man dressed in a stylish tuxedo, his neck, fingers, and ears gleaming with gold, but it didn't look as tacky as a cheap showoff in moccasins; his jewelry was truly elegant. "You see, Tom, something connects us after all...

" "We have a lot in common, but too many divide us, Wincent.

" "We are united by what unites the entire Conclave—keeping the Masquerade.

" "That's no reason to tie your hands to murderous partnerships.

" "Okay, Tom, you're not a murderer, so drink to my health. "

They both clinked glasses of red wine and drank.

"You're not a murderer, Tom, so what are you going to do with this?" Wincent said, pointing a finger at me.

My hands were tied and numb. When I looked at them, I wanted to scream, but at that moment I must have fainted. Both wrists were slashed, and blood was flowing down my fingers, dripping into... TWO GLASSES...

I woke up again, I don't know how long later, but I was still sitting tied up in a chair in the boss's office... except... this time I was alone, or so it seemed.

I suddenly heard a hushed conversation, and through the half-open door I saw that it was the boss talking to the building security guard. I had one thought: a chance to escape.

After a few tries, I managed to free myself and grabbed the gun that was lying on the desk (it hadn't even occurred to me at the time to wonder where it had gotten there). I stood up and saw him – lying behind the desk, his chest full of holes, his beautiful tuxedo covered in blood, but the most impressive thing was his head, or rather, the lack thereof. There was blood everywhere: on the boss's chair, under the desk, on the carpet, which is worth more than my three salaries, on the deceased's patent leather shoes, gold necklaces, of course, falling into the pool of blood, and… oh… the desk and the papers on it, covered in my vomit…

Whatever, I have to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, I thought. I turned towards the door, took a few steps, but the door seemed to recede instead of come closer, the whole world swirling before my eyes; they must have drained a considerable amount of blood from me.

I managed to get out of the office, found myself back in the workstations, hiding between cardboard partitions like in an American movie, damn it. The boss had just finished talking to a security guard, who must have heard the shots... But suddenly I saw them both entering the office.

"You said he was here!" the indignant security guard exclaimed.

"Because he was just there!

" "Not only did you make such a mess in the office, but you also let the host screw it up. What the hell did you think you were going to make out of him as a relative?

" "Speak up, Robert, and don't forget who you're talking to and that you're the only mortal in the know. Okay, let's find what's-his-name, and we'll take out Vincent the Conclave whore later.

" "I'm not exactly an ordinary mortal, am I, Tom?" Mortals can't do things like this...

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation, as I'd just crawled into the hallway, and I didn't even think about what security guard Robert could do, though I learned the answer a moment later...

The hallway was long, the direction – elevators. Luckily, I reached one, got on, and pressed "P." On the fourteenth floor, the elevator stopped, and the lights went out. Power, I thought – someone had turned off the power. I used the manual door opener. I found myself in a twin hallway, but what I saw didn't seem to be twinned with any office building. At first, I thought I was hallucinating, my body weakened... A wolf was simply strolling down the hallway, heading in the opposite direction and not seeing me yet. I started backing away carefully, and guess what happened... yes, yes, yes... I knocked over a water cooler, landing on my buttocks.

The wolf was already looking in my direction with its red, glowing eyes. At first, it walked gently, then quickened its pace, and finally began to run, towards me, of course. Then I remembered the 9mm I'd been clutching to my heart like a small child's sleeping toy. The wolf had already leaped toward me, and I fired a few blind shots. The animal, as if struck by a hammer, flew back several meters and continued a few more steps across the polished floor, leaving a trail of red ichor behind it. When I approached him, he was still alive, looking at me with his eyes, so transformed now, almost human. He seemed to be saying why... why...

And now for the best part, which is one of the things that later led to me ending up here, in a facility for mentally ill prisoners. And you know, it's very difficult to write these words with blood on my tongue and toilet paper, not having a table yet, only these softly padded walls and my hands tied behind my back... But I have time...

Returning to the wolf, it began to struggle a bit, as if not solely from the impact of the gunshot wound, as I suspected, to the stomach. His fur began to thin in front of his eyes, his muzzle grew shorter and shorter, while the rest of his body grew larger and more... human. The transformation happened quite quickly, the end result being a naked security guard, Robert, with a gunshot wound to his lower abdomen, just above his genitals. Blood flowed profusely, not only from the wound but also from the wounded man's mouth, and it was dark in color.

What to do? The elevators aren't working, I'm on the fifteenth floor.

"Robert!" I heard my employer's voice approaching from around the corner.

I grabbed the handle of the nearest door—it was open! I entered, leaving a small gap in the door so I could observe the corridor.

"Robert, what the hell is with this electricity... Robert???..."

He ran up to the body of the security guard, and he was truly terrifying, his complexion almost completely white, and his fingers unnaturally elongated and pointed at the tips.

"Which way did he run, man, don't die... drink from my hand, Rob, I'll make you one of us, Rob... Don't die... Fucking Rob!!!... You have to tell me where he went... And what now... Because of you, I have another piece of scum to clean up... Fuck you, Rob, you were already a dick... You can't even drink from you anymore...

" "The Sixth Tradition: Destruction..." echoed loudly through the corridor.

"Wincent?!?!?! You... fuckin' damn it!!!"

"You shall not kill any of your kind. The right of destruction belongs only to your Elder. Only the Eldest among you may command the Blood Hunt." Tom, you're a bigger murderer than you think, you're the bad guy in this whole mess...

"Wincent? In this building, I'm the Eldest and I have the right to the Blood Hunt.

" "The Eldest is the Prince..."

"I'm not under his authority...

" "You are under his authority, Tom, as long as you're in this city..."

"Nooooo, Vincent, you will die tonight, and I will remain king in this building, this is my kingdom, and I am the lord here, not even the Traditions of Vincent extend here, I have no rights in the Conclave, therefore no responsibilities...

" "No, Tom, you're wrong, you're dead wrong, you're the one who will die tonight, 1748 years is long enough for a vampire...

" "1749!

" "Yes, Tom, long enough to go completely mad and lock your world away in a skyscraper. Tell me, do your descendants know about the real world? Is the basement of your computer company their whole world, Tom?

" "...

" "Yeah. The Conclave has known about your basement for a long time, the one you created for your relatives, wait, what do they call you, father, right? I wonder what they'll do when they learn the truth?!"

"They'll follow me into the fire, they're utterly devoted to me, and you know there are hundreds of them there."

"I don't know how they'll react to the news that you've been keeping them underground for over four hundred years, telling them you're some kind of god...

" "You won't get out of here alive, Vincent, you hear me, you won't..."

"Oh, Tom, if you knew where I am now, you wouldn't be making up such fairy tales. I'm practically out of your hell!!!

" "Show yourself, coward, fight with me." Tom was as white as a sheet and nervously looked around the corridor. The other one was out of sight, and it was hard to tell where the voice was coming from.

"You know perfectly well, Tom, that we Ventrue don't fight... But rest assured, you'll soon have your long-awaited duel. We have new Inquisitors...

" "The Ventrue don't have Inquisitors." Tom's gaze wandered nervously, the bloody corpse of a bodyguard lying at his feet.

"Ventrue don't, the Conclave does... They're better Huntsmen than the Assamites...

" "Drakkons!!!"

- Yeeeah... Descendants of the Great Hunter Drackonius...

- I don't believe in legends, besides, they are full of absurdities, some sources say that Drackonius...

- He was blind... It's true, he was born without pupils, which caused his other senses to become sharper...

Suddenly, the window at the end of the corridor flew in with a bang, followed by... a slim woman dressed in black. Terrified, Tom started backing up (towards me), pulled a pistol from his holster, a .44, I think, and started blindly firing at the woman. She didn't stop running; they were over 20 meters apart, and he kept shooting. The black-haired woman started running along the wall, doing a lot of half-turns and dodges, crossed to the ceiling, and from the ceiling, a somersault onto the floor, imagine that – like some kind of fucking spiderman. He shot, and she kept running... and drew her sword from the sheath hanging on her back and started deflecting those fucking bullets. Meanwhile, Tom had already used up his third magazine. She leaped at him like a tigress, covering over seven meters in one go, slashing his shirt across his chest, which immediately turned red. A real uproar ensued, they were throwing themselves at the walls so hard that the beautiful American panels cracked with a crack. The girl delivered a punch to the stomach, sending the boss flying at least five meters as if hit by a moving train. She did her tiger leap again, seemingly intending to sever a limb from Tom, but this time it bounced like a tennis ball off a racket, landing somewhere beyond my field of vision. Tom put the fire extinguisher back in its place, significantly dented by contact with his opponent's head, and suddenly he was enveloped in what looked like cigarette smoke or fog. In any case, after a few seconds, I couldn't see him beyond the fog. The smoke began to escape through the ventilation grille into the shaft, and when it all disappeared, Tom was gone.

My heart was pounding, I opened the door a crack... and I almost had a heart attack. The woman's head popped out from behind the doorframe. I was paralyzed with fear, unable to move. Her face was about six inches from mine. She was terrifying, covered in strange tattoos, but the most terrifying were her eyes, white, erratic, as if the whites were turned upside down, without pupils. I must have fainted again...

I don't know how long it took me to come to, but nothing surprised me anymore, not even the fact that I was in a different place, in a dingy stairwell. I had only one thought: to get downstairs and use the suitcase in my right hand.

I began descending the stairs, slowly at first, then faster and faster. It grew darker, damper, and colder. The stairs seemed endless; the lightbulbs illuminating my path became fewer and fewer, while more and more of them dimmed or sputtered and sparked.

The stairs finally ended, and I reached a stinking corridor, from which branches branched off into other corridors, and from those to still more, and so on, seemingly endlessly. This was my first time here, and I knew exactly which way to go, though I didn't know where or why I was going. I had one thought: "to make use of the suitcase." After a few minutes, I reached a place that gave me a momentary sense of calm, as if I'd reached my destination. As a computer scientist and electrician by training, I knew what my eyes saw. A huge generator capable of powering a section of the city, or... a large office building...

I immediately got to work, acting on instinct – I opened the suitcase, pulled out its contents – several electronic devices and coils of cables. I installed everything where and how it should be, connected the plugs, set all the parameters, set the timer for 15 minutes.

Done.

Now all I had to do was go home and sleep. I had a tough day, I had to stay at work late, what time is it... oh my, 2:27... the trams are no longer running, I'll have to walk. I wonder if it's still raining; if so, I'll get soaking wet. The company logo for tomorrow is ready. Oh, I'm just entering the main hall, I see the doorman...

"Good night Wojtek, you're working night shift again, I see?" I said to an old friend. We went to high school together, that's how I know him so well.

"Oh, I took over for a friend, he went on a date, and what are you still doing here at this hour?"

"Rush job, due tomorrow, besides, it was raining, I was waiting for it to stop...

" "It stopped an hour and a half ago, the sidewalks are already dry, man, you must have worked hard," Wojtek said with a smile. "You're new here, so you get the worst job, the overtime, don't worry, it's temporary...

" "Sure, okay, I'm off, say hello to my wife and the little one...

" "Okay, the boy can't wait for his busy godfather to visit, hehehe...

" "I promise, Wojtek, I'll drop by this weekend," I said, then waved my hand and went out through the glass doors onto the stairs in front of the office building's entrance.

It's late, I thought, and then my world spun, something lifted me off the ground and propelled me forward, as if someone had pushed me away from a building, as if a huge truck had hit my back. (My mind was completely blank, and I still hear a buzzing sound in my left ear, because I can't hear anything in my right.) I flew over the stairs leading to the office building like Superman, but my landing was hard. Actually, I only remember the approaching asphalt, getting closer, closer, closer... And then I woke up in an ambulance. A policeman and two paramedics were sitting next to me. One of the doctors said,

"...everything... okay... lie still..."

"...lucky... the only one... survived..." I read from the lips of the policeman, who smiled kindly at me and patted me on the shoulder.

Then it was time to testify, and I told them exactly what I told you. They were very surprised, and so they locked me up in that damn facility... And those soft walls... Milky soups... Plastic cutlery... Haaaaaaa, I feel like running around the room bare-assed, aaaaaaaahaa, I'll pee all over the place and say that Satan ordered me to do it... They recently checked my IQ and said, "Very nice, Ptysiu (that's what I told you to call me), 154, incredible." When I told them I had over 160 before they locked me up, they wouldn't believe me, so I beat them up. I bit off one of their noses and gouged out their eyes with my finger. I only managed to knock out another's teeth because he started beating me with a rubber baton. Now they don't talk to me anymore, they've tied my hands, put this ridiculous mask on me, and locked me in these soft walls. But I'll still pee on everything. I'll pee on the doorknob so Nurse Monika can stick her hand in it when she comes to give me my injection this afternoon... Hehehehehe..