by JG Cully
“Just do one thing for me. Wait outside the alley for a sec.”
“Oh?”
“Just going to tie this guy up, you know, leave him for the militia.”
“Oh right.” Katy nodded. Fortunately she seemed all too happy to be given a chance to move away from the alley and her would-be attacker, and not to question how Alyssa was going to tie anyone up without any rope. Alyssa, of course, had no intention of tying up Katy's attacker.
Once Katy was safely out of sight, Alyssa allowed herself the second evil smile of the night. The drunk was still unconscious. She knelt over him, by his throat, and opened her mouth. Her fangs extended with a sound not unlike a cat hissing, canine teeth jutting forth from her upper jaw into pin sharp points. They were long, reaching past her chin. Sharp, pointed and intended for only one thing.
Without hesitation she plunged the tips of her protruding teeth into the man's unyielding throat. The blood ran freely. Eagerly she swallowed it down through the fangs, the two bony points hollow and draining the blood just above her tongue and down her throat. It was the basest thing she ever had to do and she hated doing it, but it was necessary to survive and she had learned to adapt to it.
As she had become more experienced at drinking blood, she had learned that the taste of the blood would change to match whatever she imagined. If, for example, she imagined fine Tornar Red wine (smuggled in during one of the nights at the orphanage all those years ago. Her dorm had been bored of flavoured water), that's what the blood tasted like. If she imagined water, well, it just tasted like water. Whatever she thought of, the taste of the blood matched, as long as she had tasted the real stuff before, which was a huge relief considering her first drink had tasted of, well, blood, and she had had a hard time keeping it down afterwards. Her teacher had only told her of the method of changing the taste after her first taste. Apparently it had been an initiation of some kind. She'd thought it was just a cruel joke at the time. Now however, changing the taste to suit came more or less naturally.
The drunk was taller and much wider than she so there was no chance of her totally draining him, even accidentally. She knew she had to be quick in case Katy grew suspicious and wondered what she was doing. It took a very short time to fill her stomach and quickly she retracted her fangs with a vile sounding slurp; she really hated that sound. She then had the unwelcome task of licking the blood from the two minuscule wounds (another precaution drilled into her) that always seemed to shrink when she was done drinking. Tasting the blood was fine but his skin was another matter.
“Yuck!” she concluded, smacking her lips from the drunk's sweaty taste once she was finished. She stood, feeling the contents of her stomach shifting inside her. She realized she might have gorged herself a little too much in her haste. Her stomach felt swollen under her dress. No matter, just meant she didn't have to drink again for longer.
Checking that there was no sign of blood on his clothing (or on her lips) she turned neatly on her heel and left the even-more-unconscious fat man lying on the frozen cobbles. With any luck he'd awake with a worse hangover and wouldn't be causing trouble for a long time. Katy was waiting for her
“Ok?” she asked. She seemed to have calmed down a lot. Bless, thought Alyssa.
“Yeh, well stuffed now.” grinned Alyssa.
“Stuffed?” Katy queried.
Oops!
This is what happened when you didn't have a great deal of human interaction in your life.
“Ah I mean, he's well stuffed now.” Alyssa stammered hastily, rather quickly removing her hand from her stomach. “Once the militia find him.”
“Oh right.” Katy smiled after a few agonising seconds of hesitation (for Alyssa anyway), not seeming to notice Alyssa had suddenly become rather more plump in the last few seconds.
“Anyway,” said Alyssa next, doing her best to move the subject on and forget what an ass she had almost made of herself, “lead on.”
The two of them started off down the street. Alyssa was walking with particular care. Her stomach was very full with Blackice sweet water (her selected taste this evening) and the last thing she needed was for the girl to be inquiring as to when she had had time to eat between beating up the drunk and tying him up.
“So what's your trade?” Alyssa asked, doing her best to cover another gurgle coming from her middle.
“Barmaid," Katy replied rather timidly. “I work at the Hanged Man.”
Yikes thought Alyssa. The Hanged Man had a reputation as something of a hole cunningly disguised as a tavern, said hole occupied by a variety of ne'er-do-wells.
“I'm a barmaid too” Alyssa settled on. “Though I'm at the Elk's Horn. You're a bit out of your way here are you not?”
The Hanged Man was in the poorest district on the other side of the city. Far away from where they were now. Katy nervously flicked her hair back before replying. “Actually I'm looking for new work.”
“Oh?”
Katy fidgeted with her blouse sleeves. “The place is a bit scary.”
Alyssa nodded sympathising. “It does have a reputation.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment.
“You know, we're hiring.” she said, looking across at Katy.
Katy seemed to perk up. “You think it could work?”
“No harm in trying. I warn you, a lot of our customers aren't human. That a problem?”
Plus neither am I.
“Not a problem. Actually I get on with non humans quite well.”
She hesitated for a moment.
“Except...there aren't any bearkin are there?” Katy asked, sudden concern appearing as a spectre behind her eyes.
Alyssa shook her head. “Nah. Ceiling's too low for them.”
Bearkin were nine to ten foot tall creatures, taller even than ogres, possessing broad shouldered, muscular bodies and bear-like heads full of sharp teeth, with claws the length of daggers and a demeanour to match. With that in mind, Alyssa could understand the apprehension at serving them. Katy looked relieved.
“Well, if you'll take me?”
“I'll put in a good word.” promised Alyssa.
The two of them chatted the rest of the way. Fortunately for Alyssa Katy set a brisk pace so Alyssa didn't need to worry about the impending sunlight catching up with her. It turned out they had a great deal in common, for a human and a vampire anyway. Katy enjoyed reading and embroidery, just like Alyssa, and had an interest in geography, again like Alyssa. They even discovered they had attended rival schools. But while Katy lived with her family, Alyssa was an orphan.
“I'm so sorry,” she said after Alyssa told her.
Alyssa just shrugged.
“It's ok, I was lucky. The orphanage where I grew up taught me a lot about living.”
Nothing about being a vampire mind you but still...
They finished the brief walk knowing each other a lot better and having realised the night hadn't been all bad. They were firm friends by the time they arrived at Katy's door.
The Barnsburn district was in the east of the city, an area known for its close knit family groups. As well as its distrust of strangers. More than once Alyssa had felt eyes on her from behind parted window shutters. The houses themselves were like slightly larger versions of James' house, but much less well kept. Dirty red brick, with ageing timbers supporting the walls and shuttered windows instead of modern bottle glass. Signs of do-it-yourself home repair were everywhere, from wooden boards serving as doors to what appeared to be ship-timbers boarding up windows. They had seen better days, but then, that was the same all across the country. The world had been at war up until recently after all.
“Thank you again Alyssa.” Katy said at the door
“No bother.”
The two of them embraced, Katy hugging Alyssa tightly (though not overly tightly this time, for which Alyssa was thankful). Katy however frowned as she stepped back, casting Alyssa a worried look.
“Are you ok?” she asked. “Seems like your stomac
h's all swollen up.”
Oops! Again!
“Ah, no, no. I'm fine! Just...” Alyssa rubbed her stomach, hoping that the action on its own would decrease the swell. It didn't.
“...just stress!” she settled on. “You know? Delayed action. Scary situation, that sort of thing.”
“Oh,” Katy seemed to accept this explanation rather well. “Well you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. I'll sleep off the...stress.”
“Ok. Well, thank you again. I'll pop in to the Elk's Horn tomorrow night then, if that's ok?"
Alyssa nodded.
“I'm in your debt.” Katy said next. “You're a really good person.”
Alyssa smiled warmly and the two parted ways, Katy waving before entering her house, Alyssa watching her go. It was only when Katy was behind her closed door that Alyssa's face fell. She sighed, scratching the back of her head.
“No Katy, I'm not a good person.” she muttered. “In fact I'm not even a person anymore.”
With that she checked her glasses again and turned, heading off to her own house as quickly as her full stomach would allow.
* * * * *
Alyssa was back at her house in short order. That was fortunate. Even as she entered the first rays of sunlight had started to creep across the horizon. She had left it later than she should have but avoided exploding. She changed into her bedclothes, a fine white night dress draped over her. She sat her glasses on a dresser by her bed, with a single candle having been set alight beside them. Another habit, unnecessary for a vampire gifted with exceptional night vision but necessary for a vampire-trying-to-be-human.
I'm such a grob.
She was feeling very much like a wine barrel at the moment. Sluggish and heavy she decided that laundry and cleaning could wait till tomorrow. She was far too full to care.
New rule. No more fat bad guys.
BUT THE BLOOD GIVES YOU STRENGTH!
Sighing as she sat down on the bed, Alyssa rolled her eyes.
“Hello Vlad.” she said out loud.
WHY DID YOU NOT DRAIN THE VIRGIN?
The voice was a guttural growl, echoing inside Alyssa's head. Sadly, that seemed to be where Vlad lived. She had nicknamed him Vlad: the name he had given for himself was, for her at least, impossible to pronounce. It was some ancient vampire language. Either that, or he was just being difficult. Vlad hated the name Vlad, apparently because it was some kind of vampire put down. It was one of her ways of getting back at him. She wasn't sure what he was, exactly. A vampire spirit? An undead monster of some kind? A final curse set on her by good old Igor?
Whoever, or whatever, he was he kept annoying her. Always demanding she 'SLAY THOSE WHO OPPOSE YOU!' or 'TURN THEM TO YOUR BIDDING'. All of which Alyssa did her best to ignore.
“Just so you know, I've not missed you.” she said without humour.
WHY DID YOU NOT DRAIN THE VIRGIN? Vlad repeated with greater intensity, demanding an answer. HER BLOOD WOULD HAVE DOUBLED YOUR STRENGTH!
“Because I would have burst!” retorted Alyssa, though truth be told her main reason was of course that, as a rule, she didn't kill anyone. A rule that Vlad disapproved of immensely. Hence why Alyssa liked to provide practical reasons for not killing anyone, just to placate him a little.
She deliberately looked down at the swell of her stomach, forcefully directing Vlads attention (she hoped).
“Do you see how stuffed I am?”
Vlad was more or less the only 'thing' Alyssa knew who really got on her nerves. No other could cause her this kind of annoyance. Then again she suspected that was his intention. He seemed to prefer it when she was angry.
RAGNOR THE RAVENOUS WOULD GORGE ON THREE A NIGHT AND WAS AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE!
Vlad seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of vampiric history and gloried in reminding Alyssa that every other vampire before her had been so much better.
“He wasn't an eighteen year old girl!” she retorted
FOOLISH CHILD! he bellowed again making Alyssa flinch. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR LEGACY. REGORASH TURNED YOU SO YOU COULD RULE. RULE THE MORTALS OF THIS PATHETIC LAND!
Great, now he's off on one...
RULE THEM WITH AN IRON FIST, SLAYING ANY WHO WOULD OPPOSE YOU. CRUSHING ALL BEFORE YOU AND...WAIT...WHAT ARE YOU DOING? CEASE!
Alyssa had learned, through trial and error mainly, that there was a way to shut Vlad up.
She liked to call it 'putting him in his box'.
She would concentrate very hard, thinking of a box. Then she would visualize Vlad, normally as a black cloud of nothingness. This seemed to suit him well.
NO! NOOOOO! YOU CANNOT SILENCE ME!
A pigging wordy black cloud of nothingness.
Then, quite simply, she would place him into this box. She would imagine locking the box with a strong metal padlock and that blessedly, the box was completely soundproof. Unfortunately it wasn't a permanent solution. It took a lot of effort and inevitably Vlad would escape his improvised prison, but it would at least give her a bit of peace tonight.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Click
Then, just like that, he was silenced. For a while anyway.
Normally a couple of days or a couple of weeks; there didn't seem to be a definitive time on it. She wondered if next time she could visualize eating him and maybe shut him up for good. Unfortunately that thought just made her feel queasy.
Alyssa closed her eyes, enjoying the silence. A goofy grin started to spread across her face. She was thinking of James. She lay down on her side, still grinning broadly and grabbed Mr Rabbit to hug him close.
Another reminder of her orphan days, Mr Rabbit was a rather plain white stuffed animal that had always kept her company at bedtime. He now performed the additional task of maintaining her humanity and being her silent confidant.
“I was flirted with tonight. By a boy,” she told the inanimate object. Its expression remained disappointingly neutral. “And he was really cute!”
She giggled to herself again. Then the more adult part of her brain reminded her that she was talking to a stuffed animal and giggling like a schoolgirl.
Wise up!
She blushed a little, thinking how much of a child James would think her if he knew what she was doing right now. She gave Mr Rabbit a formal apology.
She had checked the blackout curtains already (incredibly important!) and her house windows and doors. All locked tight, all closed down and none in a position to let any of the lethal sunlight through. She was safe. She pulled her covers over her head, just in case, and summoned her strength to place her in her death sleep.
Vampires didn't need sleep but it was incredibly easy to get bored when you were stuck in the house for stretches of up to 12 hours a time. So she had learned that she could force herself to slip into a state of unconsciousness, particularly when her stomach was full. She would imagine herself falling asleep, like she used to when she was alive but more forced, almost like putting herself into a trance. Slowly her body would follow her wishes. Slowly, but surely, she drifted off.
She knew she was asleep when the dreams began.
Chapter Three:
The Huntress
* * * * *
The world can often seem a very illogical place.
If you were to apply proper logic to the circumstances, then the fat drunkard Alyssa had encountered should have awoken with a bad hangover (and little recollection of what had happened to him) then have stumbled home, fallen onto his bed and spent the next few days recovering; wondering if perhaps getting drunk again was a bad idea. If the reality were different he may have considered joining a support group and giving up on drinking altogether. He might even have moved on to becoming a model citizen.
However, this theoretical series of logic events are not what occurred. The reality was more brutal. As said drunk was now hanging by his chin from a spiked metal railing; very dead.
To the casual observer it would appear
he had fallen from the pathway that ran along the top of an earthen mound that in turn ringed the cities' southern districts. The south of the city had been identified long ago as not easily defensible in war, so to remedy this the Argon army had raised the mound around it. After the Six Nations' War a pathway had been laid on top of the defensive mounds of earth. A good idea on the surface, but the problem lay in that the mounds were augmented by spiked metal rails pointing inwards and outwards that ran continuously either side of the mounds, originally as defensive barriers and now as generally dangerous hazards for the general public. The Mounds Walkway, as it was known, was not a safe place when your ability to walk in straight lines was impaired.
It had still been dark when the drunk awoke only an hour after his encounter with Alyssa. His body was discovered in the early hours of the morning as the first shafts of sunlight creep over the city buildings.
The discovery was made by a militia patrol made up of an old veteran and a bright eyed new lad just finishing their night patrol. The body was easy to find; the drunkard had been a very fat man in life after all. The smell kind of gave it away as well.
The new lad happened to be a clever one, one gifted with the kind of detective skills not often found in a militia beat patrol. He quickly concluded that because the man had fallen on the bloody dangerous spikes the incident gave them a good reason to ask the city council to get the damn things removed, and quickly.
But he noticed something else. Something which made the discovery a lot more suspicious. The corpse didn't seem to have bled all that much. With the ugly wound made up, into the man’s chin, one would have expected a great deal more blood to have spilled down the spike at the point of impact. Whilst the unfortunate victim had bled, it wasn't as much as one would have expected from so dramatic a death.
They reported the discovery at one of the nearby militia watchtowers. A little winged courier fey (a race of creatures no bigger than a few inches, very fast fliers and possessed of perfect memories. Show-offs in other words) was quickly sent to the divisional headquarters, requesting assistance. HQ replied by dispatching a Death Warden.
