Redemption (Dawn of the Damned Book 1)

by Connie Chance

  Her repeated nightmare would start every evening after dinner. She knew what was expected of her after a few days, and never faltered ever since until she left their home. She would get up from her place at the dinner table, and walk over to Bjarne at his head position, who would sweep her hair away and sink his teeth deep into her neck. After he’d had his fill, he would pass her on to his wife and then to his son who’d been two years older than her.

  The Kjeld Bjarnesen standing before her right now was not very much different from the eight year old Kjeld then. He takes what he wants now without question or compassion, just as he had taken then.

  Remembering life under Lord Gunnarsen always brought up thoughts of Jon- dear sweet Jon. Jon was a half-blood too, Kjeld’s half-brother. Kjeld’s mother, the beautiful Lady Astrid Gunnarsen, had an affair with one of their African slaves they’d brought home after a long expedition around the world.

  Jon never knew how his father had looked like, or what his name had been, for all in the household were forbidden against speaking of that particular human. The short tempered Lord had the servant put to sword the minute the child was born with the questionable colouring. He’d however graciously spared the child. Why kill an eternal source of nourishment? So Jon had also been subjected to the same kind of fate as she was, although he was their flesh and blood.

  All of their kind can survive well on human blood, however most pure-bloods, such as the Gunnarsen family, relish on drinking from half-bloods. They claim that their blood is richer, and more filling. They say that when they drink from half-bloods, they get stronger and move faster.

  Anja knew from personal experience that her blood also intoxicated them, and brought out a more hungry and animalistic side to their nature. She also knew that they constantly hungered for her blood once they tasted it, just as she was sure right then that the pure-blood across the table would jump at it, if she offered him her neck. He still remembered how good she tasted, and that notion disgusted her so much that she had trouble swallowing the food in her mouth.

  This went on every evening. The whole day Anja and Jon would be treated as Kjeld’s equals, and in the evenings they would be fed on as their food source. Were they just supposed to be grateful that they were treated so well otherwise?

  What was the difference between them, half-bloods, and a farmer’s goats. She guessed none, from a pure-blood's point of view. Anja still remembered those evenings vividly, as much as she tried to forget. The intrusive assault of the sinking fangs into her neck, the yappy suckling sounds made as her blood was fed on, and worst of all the reaction of whoever had fed on her when they’d had their fill. Drunken creatures falling backwards or off their chairs laughing hysterically, or worst was when a bulge formed at their pelvic area in the case of the males, due to arousal, or the heightened scent of wanton from the females. Thankfully, she’d been safer with the Gunnarsens on that account, than she had been back at home with her father. The Gunnarsens knew better than to act on those other urges. Her father..

  She shook her head again in an attempt to stop the despicable memories from rushing to the surface.

  Lord Gunnarsen had ordered Anja to always feed from the jugular when it was her turn to feed, and a human servant or slave would be summoned forward. He said it was unnatural for her to feed from the wrist.

  Anja had followed his command then, as she’d been too scared of him to do otherwise. Every night though, she wallowed in misery and guilt, remembering how her mother had patiently trained her to feed from the wrist. This way she could drink slower, and judge better when it was time to stop, so as not to kill. This way was less intrusive too, and offered the human being fed on some form of dignity.

  Therefore ever since Anja left the Gunnarsen's household, she’d never fed on any human from the jugular, and neither had she ever gotten close enough to a pure-blood that could feed on her so. Until this moment!

  She dug into her food distracted, her mind running different scenarios of how she could run away from the pure-blood seated across her.

  “What are you planning to do to me?” She asked him quietly, before forking a grape and putting it into her mouth.

  “You’ve broken the law. Justice must be served.”

  Justice must be served! Anja repeated to herself satirically. What about her justice?

  “You will forward me to the council to be judged?” She asked raising her face to meet his eyes. He nodded.

  “It is my duty as Governor of Area One,” he said to her, not blinking away.

  So he’d gone into Draugr politics just as his father had. But why had he taken over the Americas instead of Europe that his father had controlled, or could his father still be in control of Area Two even after all these years? That was highly possible, as Draugrs are immortal beings. Furthermore, Bjarne was so old, that Anja doubted any Draugr would attempt to kill him now. It was possible though, Anja knew it, for her father had been killed.

  “Judge me now,” she rushed to say, as she kept holding eye contact with him. “Judge me now and execute me master.. Governor Kjeld, for we both know I am guilty.” He looked back at her with so much open surprise at her request to be killed.

  “I do not want my fate to ever again to be under another pure-blood!” She finished off passionately as explanation.

  “I am a pure-blood!”

  “Yes, you are! And I want you to be the last one that ever controls me and my life.”

  “Have you been running this long, to just give up so easily?” This he asked puzzled, not understanding the woman before him.

  “I have been running this long hoping that one day, one would come my way and put an end to my misery, and kill me.” He jumped back in surprise at what he considered outrageous words spewing from her mouth. He’d never before met with any Draugr that’d willingly wish to cease to exist.

  “I will never be happy as long as I live,” she went on to say. “You know it, and I know it. I am damaged- my past follows me everywhere I go, and my future is masked with the dread of reliving my past. This world gets smaller and smaller every day, and I have nowhere to run and hide anymore.”

  The man before her momentarily transformed into the young master Kjeld she once knew, as he looked back at her dumbfounded on what to do or say. She’d seen that look on him before- when they were kids, and his parents had pushed her over to him to feed. His veins had protruded in hunger at the scent of her blood, but his eyes had looked back at her with guilt, unsure on whether he should feed on her or not.

  Anja had hoped for years that he’d one day be able to resist the temptation of her blood, but eventually she had stopped hoping, for he’d always given in to his hunger and fed on her. Not even once had he stood up for her, resisted his craving for her blood. And she had a sinking feeling that the same would happen this time. He would choose to conform to the norms, rather than break out of the system to help her. He’d prove once again weak.

  “Anja, I cannot kill you. You are like a sister to me..”

  “A sister!¨ Anja screamed out in anger, despite herself, standing up from her chair with so much ferocity, that it scuttled across the floor. “You sunk your fangs into my neck and drunk from me repeatedly for years, and you dare call me sister!”

  “I.. My father..”

  “Don't tell me any bullshit about your father forcing you. You wanted to do it, and still do!” She finished off as she swept the food off the table and pounced on it to stop a few inches before his face.

  She then watched in anger as his veins began protruding and his heartbeat quickened due to her proximity, confirming her suspicions.

  “Even now you want nothing more than to taste my blood, to have it flow in your mouth! Like a sister indeed!” She spat venomously at him before edging away. He brought up his hand quickly and arrested her in place, edging his face closer to hers.

  “It is my duty to arraign all convicts in my area as governor, a duty I take very seriously. Now, if you are done with your antic
s, follow me. I’ll show you to your room. We have a long day ahead tomorrow, and you’ll need all the rest you can muster.”

  He showed her into what she’d guess to be the guest room, and closed the door behind him. He didn’t seem in any way worried about her running away, which only increased her apprehension, as she realised that he knew with certainty that he had her caged in. He’d feel her the moment she’d attempt escape, and having bathed in her scent throughout dinner, he’d be able to track her for a long while before all traces of her scent finally faded away. Plus, he was governor of Area One now, which meant that all here in North America worked for him, whether they knew it or not. Both the human and of course the Draugr law enforcement, and all traffic cameras and monitoring systems set up to keep these humans under big brother’s radar.

  Yes, she was trapped, but she wasn’t about to give up. Not now, not ever. She’ll never give up until the moment she drew her last breath.

  III

  The next morning, he made her follow him into his town car where they were driven in silence to his office building, a sprawling skyscraper facing out to sea. Bayview Towers, it read across the building. They headed to the 54th floor, belonging to a Mastermind Consulting Company.

  When the elevator doors opened, the stifling scent hit at her nostrils with staggering intensity. More Draugrs! Many more Draugrs! About a dozen of them sitting on desks or walking around doing this or that among the humans also on this office floor.

  Many of the humans appeared a little too pale, a clear sign that they were constantly being fed on. She noted with relief that the Draugrs were all half-bloods. At least she now only had to worry about keeping one pure-blood away from her jugular.

  She started back in utmost surprise at that moment when a very familiar figure strutted over to her from one of the far ends of the open office floor.

  She would know him anywhere- that overconfident strut hiding his deepest insecurities, the impeccable taste in clothing as evidenced by the perfectly fitted expensive suit molding his body, and those disturbingly enchanting yellow-brown eyes.

  Jon!

  She stepped back even as he edged closer, refusing to believe it. Confused, unsure of how to react to his presence. She shut her eyes against it all, even as her senses became aware of him taking yet another cautious step closer to her.

  She remembered herself as a teenager at that moment, finding refuge in the large beautiful gardens around Lord Gunnarsen's home. Being fed on every night had begun to be a harder emotional toll to bear as they grew older. They often spent their afternoons together so as to provide each other with emotional support to the feeding to go on later that evening, as always.

  Once again, she was begging him to run away with her. They would make it, she kept telling him over and over again.

  “They’ll catch us, and kill us! Or worse, torture us!” Jon had argued with her. “At least they treat us well now..”

  “They feed on us, Jon! We are nothing more than domestic animals to them!” Anja had cried out in a frustrated whisper. “Like a cow to be milked each morning.”

  “No, my mother loves me,” Jon had insisted, and Anja had not found it in her to explain to him that a mother does not feed on her child if she loved him, especially if it was unnecessary. If Lady Gunnarsen loved him so much, why didn’t she opt to feed off the human servants instead of her son?

  Jon had however tried to cheer her up on those afternoons with stories of places he would take her, when they would be finally free to leave. He talked of the great warm lands of Africa, where his father’s people were from.

  He also talked of the far southeast lands where people lived in peaceful harmony - their bodies and souls in commune with nature. Jon was an ardent reader, and had formed his opinions of most on those places from the various books and scrolls he’d read, and his great imagination.

  The two half-bloods would lie close to each other on the leafy meadows one afternoon after the other, facing the wide sky, dreaming away. Seasons came and went. The skies darkened, brightened, stormed and glistened away. There, lying on that spot, it was then that their affections for each other grew from just brotherly love to more, much more. It was there, lying on their backs that they grew to love each other so much it hurt. They grew to learn just what it meant to care for another even more than you could care for your own self.

  They however never touched, for Jon understood just how much Anja hated physical contact with anybody. It was in this position, with Jon narrating stories of their future adventures, that master Kjeld, an eighteen year old then, had found them. He’d creeped up on them on a stormy day, catching them unaware as the falling rain and thundering storm had dampened his scent and the sounds of his footsteps. When they beheld him, they knew it was already too late, and that he’d heard what they’d been conversing about.

  “You are to run away!” He’d accused his half-blood brother.

  “No, of course not! They are just make believe stories,” Jon had attempted to explain, trying to calm his brother down.

  ¨I’ll never let you run away with her! I’ll tell father this instant!¨ Kjeld had exclaimed, and both Jon and Anja had jumped to their feet in the blink of light, stopping in an assault position as their defense instincts kicked in. They both understood that Lord Gunnarsen would kill them before he let them leave his grounds. They were his property, and one of his most valued of possessions.

  “You will be unable to stop me, brother. Nobody will stop me, should I ever decide to leave.”

  “Fine! You can go, but you will not take her away from me, you half-blood! She is mine!” The emotions behind Kjeld's eyes when those last words were uttered had been raw and determined, and Anja had shuddered at that look, more than she had at the insult thrown at Jon.

  Here was someone else claiming to own her again, and she knew at that moment that even if one so bold was to appear and manage to kill Lord Gunnarsen, his son would rush in to possess her too. Wouldn't she ever be free from this lot?

  “Listen to yourself, Kjeld! You sound just like father, spouting that madness.” A look of discomfiture swept over Kjeld’s face at hearing Jon’s words.

  “I..” Kjeld began to defend himself.

  “And I tell you now, brother, she herself can choose whom she wants. Unless you want to force yourself on her as you have been forcefully feeding on her..”

  Jon’s words were barely out of his mouth before the two brothers pounced on each other like rabid dogs. Jon was soon overpowered by his much stronger pure-blood brother, who went even as far as to bite ferociously at his neck and drain him hungrily.

  It was all too much for Anja to stand and watch, even though she knew any attempts to attack Kjeld would land her into a massive load of trouble. She lurched herself at the stronger brother to claw him out of her Jon. She surprised them all by sinking her teeth into his neck the moment she landed on him.

  Anja had never before tasted a pure-blood before, but it’s safe to say that she was heavily disappointed. Part of her had hoped that she would find his blood as intoxicating as they found hers. She wanted it to be as addictive as her blood was to them, so that Kjeld could learn what it meant to live in constant fear at the thought that one was often only thinking about that which ran in your veins, and when next they could taste it.

  The violence of her attack managed to shock him enough, so much so that he let go of Jon. But Kjeld is a pure-blood, and thereby not easily weakened, not even with her leeching on his life’s essence. So upon quick recovery from his shock, he’d overturned her, pinning her on the ground below him. He growled at her with a ferocious look on his face, his mouth still covered and teeth stained by Jon's blood, baring his fangs at her.

  He was angry, that was sure. She was almost tempted to pity him, knowing well how disturbing it is to be fed on, and how degraded one felt after. However, inside she was happy that now he finally knew how she and Jon had felt every evening after dinner.

  He growled angrily a
gain, and she’d looked back at him fearfully, knowing there was no way to stop him from biting her too. Something in her eyes must have made him pause, and doubt himself. Finally, he’d managed to hold back that blood lust, something she’d prayed to happen for years whenever his parents prompted him to feed on her.

  “Go now,” he’d whispered as he kept looking at her with uncertainty and something else. “You two must leave now. It is your only chance, if you wish to escape! Father won’t let you live, knowing that you’ve fed on me. He’ll not hesitate to kill you if he finds you..”

  Anja had not waited for another second prompt, picking up the nearly drained boy she loved in her arms and dashing across the gardens into the large forestation ahead.

  Anja could hardly ever remember just for how long they’d kept running non-stop, none of them particularly sure of what lay waiting ahead. All the two knew was that they ran towards the sunrise. They ran as fast as they could across meadowed plains, up the mountains, snow-covered mountain peaks, frozen lakes, and down the valleys, until they had run out of land or frozen water. They had then found a small port, and hidden as stowaways in one of its ships, feeding on unsuspecting crew members.

  The ship had sailed by a small island where the two had jumped overboard and swarm onto the remote island’s shores, letting the ship sail on. The island had been one of the thousands of islands that make present day Japan. Then it had only been inhabited by a couple hundred primitive people. It was a perfect place for the two young Draugrs to hide in, settle and recover from their years of torture. So settle they did.

  The days were warm, and the land was fertile. They fed on the natives sparingly, and borrowed some of their foods from the fields. The locals began to notice something unusual though, and made up stories of ghost or night walkers that roamed their lands, stealing their crops and their children. They had it very wrong there though, for the two never stole or fed on children. They’d suffered too much trauma in their childhood to do it to another child. They fed on the adults, but always made sure to heal them well after and wipe out their memories. Never once did a native die because of them.