The Blood Born Tales (Book 1): Blood Collector

by T. C. Elofson

  “The dreams will come forth and you will be transformed.”

  The words were disconcerting to her. Fabiana’s eyes shot a glance at him that could only have been construed as a cry for help, but none would come. A man came forth out of the darkness of another room. He was the man from outside the cave and he was making his way rather gracefully towards her. The light of the fire glistened on his sculpted muscles. His hair was curly and brown, much like Fabiana’s, but not as dark. He stopped for a moment when he saw the fear in her eyes. She admired him in his nakedness.

  You can’t carry such beauty and strength unless you have been adored.

  In this brief encounter, a bond had begun between them. It was to last forever. There was something about him that she felt was familiar but she could not think of what it could possibly be.

  “Am I to die?” she asked.

  “No, Fabiana. It is time for you to finally live,” he said, offering his hand to her. He loved the straight bridge of her nose, the strong lines of her jaw and cheekbones, and the deliberate but graceful way she moved when she took his hand. In his mind, she would make the perfect vampire.

  As soon as Fabiana entered the temple she was received by several women who welcomed her as if she were a priestess. They were properly dressed and made up, painted with white on their arms and artistically drawn eye lines on their faces with all the aesthetic details of Roman women’s fashion.

  They explained that Fabiana would soon be on her way to a great honor and that they would help prepare her for her journey. All of them had undergone a similar ceremony but very few had had the privilege of being chosen by Cognatus.

  “Cognatus?” Fabiana questioned them.

  “Yes, Cognatus is our father. He is The Origin of our kind. We love him very much. The telling of the tale of the beginning is the first step you must take in order to be born into His Family.

  “But what if I do not wish to be born to him?” she asked, fearful of the unknown future laid before her.

  “Why would you not wish such an amazing thing? He has chosen. You will not refuse him. No one does.” Then Fabiana stood silent for a while as the woman began to disrobe her.

  “Don’t be laden with misery,” said a young, blue-eyed woman. Again came the comforting sound of soft, soothing voices in her head as the woman’s hands began to wash her naked body. She closed her eyes as the water trickled off her breast and down her thigh into a pool of water at her feet. Fabiana was no longer a victim to them—she was now a gift to The Family and would soon be one of them.

  A woman put her arms around Fabiana, and when they saw fear in her small eyes, when they saw a question coming, they flooded her mind with images. She gave into the visions and bent her neck as one of them ran fingers over her tender skin. Strangely then, it was as if they wished to drain her, but the act would mean death for them. The girl belonged to The Origin now. The woman with the blue eyes looked up at Fabiana as she knelt down on one knee and began to tell the tale of the birth of The Family.

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  Chapter 21

  2.4 million years ago

  Dawn came to the jungle. The pale sun burned away the morning chill and the hanging, determined mist revealed a gigantic unknown world. Enormous trees with trunks fifty feet in diameter rose hundreds of meters off the ground. Curtains of dark moss and vines hung down in swoops from the bulky branches of limbs as water splashed in the distance. The grey rock face of a cliff was sunk deep into a lake of blue water as a stream poured slowly from a waterfall above and brightness poured over the sky. On the other side of the mountain, a cloud slowly gave into the day.

  A young woman walked through the dark woods and placed soft hands on her pregnant belly, uncertain as to what would come from within. She hesitantly followed the sound of running water and couldn’t seem to stop her feet. They kept right on, and she found herself at a large watering hole. The warm air was steamy from a hard rain that had suddenly started and had just stopped.

  She did not know the creature that had raped her was not of this world, but instead was of a world in an alternate dimension where demons and gods ruled their own hell. The demon who had violated her had been expelled to this world for his unspeakable atrocities against their land. They used Earth as their own penal colony.

  The child within—what would it be? The clan woman began to head back into the coolness of the forest when she was struck down with an intense pain in her womb. Suddenly, her skin turned white as the blood began to leave her body. She twisted and writhed as agony seared throughout her, contorting herself as she lay on her back and her belly burst open. Blood sprayed out and painted the surrounding vegetation a dark red.

  She lay dead and white as winter, and something inhuman stirred inside her. A clawed hand reached out and then was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. A creature pulled itself free of her dead shell, drinking every drop of her blood for his own. Grotesque, with a scaly skin of dark red and a mop of black hair, the first vampire was born to the world.

  It stood hunchbacked, unable to straighten up, its long arms hanging to the earth. It let out a blood-curdling howl that pierced the calm of the day. Its eyes were red as fire and it had teeth sharp as blades. It was an unnatural mixture of man and beast.

  Suddenly, like a dog, it lifted its nose up to the air and caught a scent. Its diminutive body, no more than the size of a small wolf, turned this way and that as it looked around frantically. Strange animals chattered in the trees, and massive birds called in the cool air. The sense of freedom from the confines of his mother, the anticipation of adventure and unexpected sensations, filled him as he moved in closer and closer to something. Cognatus could smell a creature, large and menacing, through the trees.

  In a section of dense jungle, the ground under foot crunched and cracked. Pushing aside the large leaf of a contorted tree, he could see a carpeting of scattered bones. He saw bleached skeletal remains from several species. Other small pieces were actually fragments from larger animals, but how large was hard to say. He glanced quickly around and saw three large beasts of fur and massive teeth ripping into their prey.

  His eyes began to burn as a thirst grew in him. His large teeth pushed back a quivering upper lip as he leapt from his hiding spot in the trees. Bits of bone and dirt sprayed into the air as he ran across the open jungle at one of the large beasts. He moved with amazing speed and within a moment, he was on the back of one of the animals, his teeth ripping at it, blood flowing out and spilling around his feet as Cognatus drank from the river of red. The large animal hit the ground with a mighty thud; it was dead. Cognatus stood on top of the beast, blood dripping from his mouth. He lifted his head and let out an incredible roar, celebrating his first kill. He was small, but his massive speed and strength made him unstoppable.

  It would not be long until Cognatus was fully grown. As puberty took hold of him, he began to look more like a man and less like a demon. His blood lust seemed to be insatiable and he had become quite good at hunting. Then one day he caught the scent of something new.

  His stomach jumped into his throat and he tasted blood in his mind. The wind screamed around his ears. It felt cold. He was instantly chilled and he shivered uncontrollably. Below him the forest lay spread across rolling hills but he felt no appreciation for beauty, only the death he wished to unleash. He closed his eyes as he jumped off the cliff. He was plummeting at a hideous speed towards the earth. His eyes shut against the fall and he was more aware of the screaming wind than ever.

  He snapped upright with a bone twisting jolt. For an instant he thought he had missed her, but then realized that he had landed just in front of her. She stood, paralyzed, staring at the monster before her. For a moment, she contemplated fleeing, but he was on her in a flash, his teeth ripping at her flesh. Her vision went blurry as he stopped his blood feast and held her. He loved her scent.

  He lifted his forearm up, opened his flesh with his fangs and watched as his black blood streamed down onto her. Sh
e pulled away for a second, but as the blood spilled onto her tongue something happened—it tasted amazing to her. The best taste she had ever encountered and she wanted more. The woman lunged at the beast and lapped up his crimson liquid with her tongue, swallowing his blood in gulps. He lifted his head up and howled at the sky as if he had just mated with her. Finally, a sense of romance, symmetry and balance, a quest for an unknown danger. A peak of intensity filled him.

  He listened to the animals in the forest around him. He viewed the rays of sunlight and the soft shadows of the trees, and this scene of his awakening stung his mind. It felt overpowering suddenly. He scooped the woman up and fled into the blackness of the jungle.

  Cognatus looked down at the woman in his arms. He found her beautiful and graceful in an utterly unexpected way.

  She did not look back at him.

  After he set her down, she walked beside him. As she kept his pace, she twisted knots in her black hair, almost in a playful way. Her dark hair was damp with blood, clingingly unattractively to her back. Her nakedness was covered in dirt and blood.

  Suddenly, she fell to her knees as if she were a rock unable to move. Her back arched up and her arms seemed pinned to the leafy floor of the dark jungle. She shut her eyes; she could feel Cognatus by her side, his hand on her back. Cognatus had no idea what he had done to the woman.

  As the power of his demon blood worked through her own blood, he had no inkling that she was changing. She began to shiver and shake, her fingers contorted and trembled as she held herself on the ground. Then her eyes opened, and the color of blood filled them as she opened her mouth, her new teeth apparent to him. She jumped on top of him and sank her fangs into his neck. His blood spilled into her mouth.

  A smile spilled across his face as he pulled her closer, becoming aroused by her. He growled and threw her off of him. She landed with an evil smile, a drip of blood running off of her lips. He attacked her in a violent and sexual way, they thrashed at one another and the penetration of her was brutal and yet joyful for them. She was his mate and the first in The Family made by Cognatus, “The Origin”.

  He had no name for her before, but now…now this woman, this wonderful creature, was his mate. She was his queen and deserving of the only name he could think of. Ayraina. He didn’t know what the word meant. But it felt right when he said it out loud.

  “Ayraina.”

  * * *

  “Is she still alive?” Fabiana asked.

  “I think so. Only an elite few have actually seen her, but it’s been thousands of years. It is said Ayraina is in hibernation somewhere.”

  “Hibernation?” She asked, puzzled.

  “Yes, some of the really old immortals stop feeding and go into some kind of trance, almost a sleep, like a hibernation of sorts. That is what we have always called it, at least.”

  Fabiana knelt down as the women began to dry her legs off and she quietly posed her question.

  “Is this to happen to me? Will I be bled and fed upon like she was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely not,” Fabiana said. “If the dreams return, I’ll not listen again.”

  “How can you be so foolish?!” said the Roman woman with genteel impatience. “His will is all that matters.”

  “No. I will not hear your words,” Fabiana raged and fled from the room.

  “Wait, child,” she heard one of them say as she bolted through the doorway. In an instant, they were on her, their hands pulled her to a halt. Yet she roared at them with as much anger and fury as she could muster in her weakened state.

  “This is unforgivable,” Fabiana insisted. “Are you not just magicians and mind readers and bound by some morality?” She looked pleadingly to the women. “Who is this man that has called me here to die?”

  “We just told you, child.”

  Fabiana went out and they followed her. She hurried to the door.

  In the light of the entryway, Fabiana saw the familiar priest’s face again. Calmly, he reassured her.

  “We know only that he is good. Please listen to his will. He has never done anything but grace and good for The Family. He is wise. He can read minds and share thoughts, as you very well have already experienced.”

  The more the man spoke to her the more familiar he seemed. He stood relaxed with one hand resting in the other. “It is all right, Fabiana,” he said.

  “I know you somehow,” she replied.

  And she did. Because it was Cerci. Cerci the tall Spaniard, the soldier friend of her father, the man from her childhood. Cerci, who had charmed her so in her youth, but he was then as he was now, a grown man. Cerci, whom she had almost identified in the shadows of the forest.

  He came towards her, where she stood in the flickering candlelight on the cold stone floor, and whispered.

  “My lovely Fabiana. Join us in death, and live always.”

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  Chapter 22

  5:33 p.m., November 24

  Out on the foggy street, the light from the nearest lamp reached me just enough to cast my shadow on the asphalt. I stared across the soggy, dark concrete steps of the lighted entryway of Pike Place Market. The beams from our flashlights poked like long yellow lasers in the back streets of Seattle. Kenny and I stood at the top of a long staircase that seemed to disappear into nothingness. The kid, Sammy, was now gone after leading us to this lonely spot engulfed in fog. Looking down, we were hopeful that we would have some luck this hour, but I had my doubts.

  I drew in my breath. I had no more questions in my mind’s eye and knew this was the door, the key to something. But to what, I really didn’t have an answer. For a moment, I was weak with emotion, but nothing was going to stop me from what I needed to do. I didn’t turn to Kenny, because it would have been cowardly to ask his support in this, or beg for reassurance. I was a man and he would never know how scared I was getting in this case. I would never tell.

  “Whoever lived in this dark, lonely cave of a home must have noticed something of the men with red hair. Maybe they lived here too,” Kenny stated, as he watched our long lights move over the dark concrete. I felt the cold of the air seep around our faces.

  “Chances are, we won’t find anything,” I replied, but I worried that we would. I drew my gun, ejected the clip to make sure I had rounds and replaced it. I slid back the slide and, with a click click, I chambered a 40-caliber fragmentation Tungsten round. Kenny followed my lead as we took our first steps forward down the staircase. I wrapped my wrists together so I held the flashlight and gun close together, the barrel of my weapon pointed at the beam of light cutting through the murky dusk of the early evening fog.

  These murder cases were beginning to feel like a massive relentless nightmare. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My stomach was in knots and apparently intended to stay that way for the duration of this day. And I was not the only one; this killer was wearing down the entire Seattle police force. No one could remember a time when there was ever such a grueling case as this. Hopefully Kenny and I would find something soon and all this would be over.

  A drop of sweat was balancing on the tip of my nose. There was a tightness in my chest. Was I going to drop of a heart attack?

  No, not now. Not here.

  The slight noise coming from inside the concrete and steel walls behind the door in front of us added to my escalating stress. I moved closer towards the door, gun pointed in front of me with Kenny backing me up.

  There was warmth coming from the building, but I was in a cold sweat, as cold as the winds blowing off the morning sea. I was less than two feet from the door, a muffled sound still radiating from behind it. I looked over to Kenny and with my usual hand signal I indicated I was about to go in. He placed his big frame just next to the doorway and I counted down from three on my hand, silently telling him I was going to breach the door. With a hard kick of my foot, the door thundered open and splinters of wood flew apart like shrapnel from a grenade.

  Within moments we were inside. It w
as dark, but my flashlight cut through the blackness with its beam of light, catching the expressions of scared faces of dozens of people.

  “Police!” I yelled in the dark.

  I heard shouts of anger in the next room ahead of me. I moved quickly, pushing forward in a hurry.

  “Watch it, you bastard!” a woman turned and yelled in my face.

  “Run!” I heard up ahead.

  “Let me through!” I shouted to the crowd of people.

  The man who was causing the noise in the next room had shoulder-length hair. He wore tight-fitting red leather pants and a black trench coat.

  I grabbed him at the same time Kenny did. We brought the man down hard and fast, his skull crunching against the cement floor.

  “Seattle Police,” Kenny yelled to the man on the floor. “Everybody fuckin’ freeze!” I was already cuffing the suspect as Kenny held his gun on the man’s face.

  “You hurt me!” he started to yell at me and Kenny. “You fuckin’ pricks hurt my head!”

  Good, I thought as I climbed to my feet. I looked around and a blackened body was laid out on a couch in what appeared to be a well-appointed living space. The corpse had been burnt and was beginning to decompose. The features were unrecognizable as I made my way over to it, shining the beam of light over the body.

  “Body,” I yelled to Kenny, “Male burn victim.”

  “I’m right behind you,” he said as he cuffed the man to a radiator. Kenny stared down at the body as he fell in next to me. “At 400 degrees, bone chars in six hours and turns to ash in eight.”

  “Charring, no ash,” I replied, somewhat disgusted. “Man I sure hope he was dead when that was done to him.”