Blood & Love and Other Vampire Tales

by Rhiannon Frater

  “You, too?”

  Brianna shakes her head. “No, baby. I have to go somewhere new, too. But I’ll be happy that she’s taking care of you.”

  “Mommy, I want you to come with me.” He looks close to tears.

  Brianna looks down, tears falling down her cheeks. Elise draws closer, her hand reaching out to rub Dylan’s back. He grabs her hand and pulls her even closer. Taking Brianna’s hand, he holds their hands together between his. “No, I want my mommies with me. Both of them.”

  Brianna looks up at Elise, wondering if it is safe. If they should do this?

  Elise slowly nods. “You can help us by day.”

  Brianna licks her lips then nods.

  Dylan grins.

  11

  The house is always full of life at night. Brianna teaches Dylan to read and write while Elise teaches him to hunt. The old Victorian on the edges of the small town is tucked away behind lush trees, granting them privacy. The town’s people think Brianna is caring for her ailing son with the aid of her sister.

  Elise loves music and it constantly fills the house. Brianna makes her watch cheesy old horror movies. Dylan conscripts them to play his console games with him.

  They all sleep during the day, Elise and Dylan in the basement in secure containers, Brianna in the bed upstairs. She awakens in the early afternoon to do errands and enjoy the sun. Her meals are all taken while her son is asleep. Food doesn’t interest him anyway.

  Days become weeks then become months. The weather changes, but the world feels wonderful as the fall fills it with flaming oranges, yellows, and reds.

  “Why did you let me live?” Brianna asks one night.

  Elise looks up from the piano keys. “Why are you asking?”

  “You had him. My son. You were free from Jacob. I got you out of New York. You could have killed me as soon as we got here.”

  “He would have hated me,” Elise says. Then with a shrug, she confesses, “And there was something in your eyes when you were willing to give up your life for him.”

  Brianna leans against the piano, thoughtful. “What was that?”

  “Perfect love. I couldn’t bear to destroy it.” She grips Brianna’s hand for the briefest moment.

  Brianna tilts her head and smiles slightly. “You mean what I see in your eyes right now?”

  Elise’s eyes glimmer and she laughs nervously.

  The glass shatters before another word can be uttered. Jacob is between them before Brianna can blink. He backhands her, sending her flying into a wall. Elise is instantly on her feet, baring her fangs. They crash into each other, clawed hands flashing as they strike. Fabric and cloth shreds. Blood splashes the room. Elise slashes at him, trying for a killing blow. He is faster than her, blocking her moves, and drawing even more blood. She can see Brianna limp against the wall and her body heaves with anguish. Jacob is destroying her world.

  Another blow sends her flying across the room. She hurtles into the stairs, shattering the wood into long splinters. One impales her thigh. Crying out in pain, she struggles to her feet. Jacob has grabbed hold of Brianna. She is stirring in his grip.

  “No!”

  “Leave my mommy alone!” Dylan launches himself from the doorway onto Jacob.

  Brianna and Elise both scream.

  Elise rushes forward, no thought other than to keep her son from the blood-soaked, growling vampire that created her. Jacob has the perfect opening for a killing blow. Faster despite her blood loss, she manages to cross the room and deflect Dylan’s flying body onto a nearby sofa. The strike meant for Dylan rips out her throat and sends her to the ground. Her blood gushes onto the floor around her hands as she tries to push herself up to defend Brianna and Dylan.

  Jacob is howling like a beast. His foot slams into her side over and over, trying to flip her over. He’ll snatch out her heart next. She feels despair fill her as she realizes she won’t care if he kills her if Brianna and Dylan die tonight.

  Dylan and Brianna are both screaming. The blows in her side are fierce and her blood is a fountain on the floor. Darkness darkens her vision.

  The world seems to tilt forward and suddenly Jacob is lying beside of her. His expression is shocked as his hand strains toward the huge wooden stake through his heart.

  “Butcher knife, Dylan!” Brianna cries out. She is covered in blood. She is beautiful.

  Elise manages to roll onto her back, struggling to get up and help them. Dylan runs back with the requested butcher knife in his small hand. Brianna grabs it from him and as Jacob tries to get to his knees, she begins to hack at his thick neck. She doesn’t stop until his head rolls away.

  Falling back to the floor, Elise can’t move. Her blood has run out. Her power is gone. Death is tangible. She feels weak, mortal. Dylan and Brianna are suddenly over her. They are covered in blood. Both are weeping.

  “Don’t leave me,” Brianna cries, her fingers sliding Elise’s blood slicked hair back from her face. “Don’t leave me!”

  Dylan is clutching her, weeping.

  Brianna covers her face with kisses, her lips sweet with blood and love. “Don’t leave us. Drink from me! Drink!”

  Elise isn’t sure if that will help anymore, but she lets herself be dragged into Brianna’s arms. Her embrace is a haven. Everything in the world suddenly seems perfect despite death filling her body. Dylan wraps his arms around her, sobbing.

  Brianna’s eyes are huge and full of life. “Drink, Elise. Drink.”

  She does.

  12

  Christmas lights and snow fill the world with magic.

  Another town. Another holiday.

  Dylan is playing with other children in the town square as the holiday displays twinkle like bright stars in the night. People are caroling, laughing, eating, dancing. The world is full of life.

  Brianna smiles with contentment, her hands tucked into the warm pockets of her coat. They are safe for now. Jacob is no longer a threat. He is buried in two pieces deep in the ground, his head far away from his body.

  Strange how that terrible first night she had met Elise would result in this perfect evening of bliss. Standing alone in the snow admiring the twinkling lights, she feels happy and alive. A handsome police officer smiles at her warmly from a nearby table laden with bakery goods being sold to raise money for a new woman’s shelter. She smiles back at him, but does not approach. She can barely remember the taste of food anymore.

  “So why did you let me live?” Elise asks, joining her. “You could have let me die. You would have him all to yourself.”

  Elise asks the same questions every night.

  Just to hear the answer.

  Brianna gazes into her eyes and says, “Because of what I saw in your eyes when you were willing to die for Dylan. Perfect love.”

  Elise slides her fingers around Brianna’s, her glimmering eyes gazing into hers. “And what do you see now?”

  Brianna smiles slowly for there is no need to answer.

  Part Two

  The Revenge of the Vampires

  Author’s Note

  The next two vampire short stories are companion pieces of a sort. Both deal with mortal predators and the women they stalk.

  The first piece of fiction is called The Predator and it is my very first published work. The story was featured in a small vampire fanzine in the mid-90’s. It garnered my first ever fan letters. At the time I was struggling not only with my writing career, but also a dead-end job. It was stressful enough working all night, but one particular person sexually harassed me on a regular basis. I finally stood up to him when management wouldn’t do anything to protect me. The confrontation was in front of other males on the job and when I ripped into him, the hoots and hollers from our co-workers humiliated him. He never bothered me again. Later on, I thought about a scenario where someone of his ilk decides to harass a woman that is more than she appears. And that is how this story was born.

  A few years later, Vengeance popped into my mind and demanded to be
written. I don’t think I’ve ever written a story so fast in my life. I fell madly in love with the story and submitted it to the few magazines still taking unsolicited work during that time. It was not picked up for publication, but one editor sent me a hand-written note saying that the story did not fit her magazine, but she loved the ending.

  I hope you enjoy my two tales of revenge. Sometimes being a vampire is the ultimate form of female empowerment.

  The Predator

  He was born a predator. From the moment he emerged from his mother’s womb, his only desire was to control those around him. As a babe, he had thrown tantrums for no other reason than to wake his peacefully sleeping mother and force her to serve him.

  As a small child he had relentlessly bullied and tormented his younger siblings. As he grew older, a small pet cemetery had formed behind the shed in his backyard. When he reached puberty, a hole couldn’t be dug in the backyard without turning up the rotting bones of some small creature.

  By the time he had graduated from high school, his younger sisters would cower whenever he entered the room and his only brother obeyed him implicitly. Only his long-suffering mother showed any affection to him, coddling him and treating him as if he was still her temperamental baby. All this suited him just fine.

  It wasn’t until he graduated from college and took on an overnight managerial job that he encountered someone who would not bow to his wishes. When he walked into the all night copy and desktop publishing store for the first time, he had felt the rush of overwhelming power. Gazing out of his small dark eyes, he took in the panorama of machinery and people and smiled. His new employees cast wary glances in his direction and he graced them with a mirthless smile.

  His dark hair was slicked back from his too long face and hawkish nose. With his tall, lanky frame, he was aware of his bird-like appearance. Dressing in dark colors and keeping his hair a glossy black, he tried to evoke the same intelligent but uncanny appearance of a raven.

  This was his domain. These were his people to control. He was a god.

  The assistant manager emerged from her small cubicle and gazed across the room at him. His first impression was that of strength. It wasn’t necessarily her height, for that was average, or her figure, also average, but her penetrating gaze. Eyes as blue as the deepest darkest waters peered out at him from beneath long lashes. Tossing back dark hair from her face, she smiled. As she moved toward him, her hand extended, he quickly took in her long black dress and heavy silver jewelry. As his hand had touched hers, he knew he either had to have her or destroy her. He despised her self-assurance as she ushered him through the store introducing him to the employees. His new minions were easily cowed under his piercing gaze, but his new assistant manager took no notice.

  As the nights slipped by, he quickly discovered every weakness in his employees and proceeded to manipulate them until they did his every bidding. The young men laughed at his barbed jokes, their nervousness leaking through. They tried to treat him like their buddy, but he made sure by his tone and look that they understood they served him. He enjoyed nitpicking at their work, making them squirm with discomfort. His favorite line was: “Everyone is replaceable but me.”

  The pretty young girls working their way through college were quickly cowed. His loud, brash sexual jokes were greeted with nervous laughter and awkward glances toward one another but they did not speak out. When they looked at him, he could see their fear, their desperation, and flashes of anger. But he had the upper hand: they needed their jobs.

  Yet she would not conform. At first she took his casual sexual remarks lightly, but when he began to touch her and deepen the innuendo, her gaze had become cold.

  “If you don’t stop your behavior immediately, I’m going to report you to the district manager,” she had said in a low yet strong voice.

  He didn’t believe her. How could a young woman no older than at least twenty-five dare to threaten him? Throughout the night he pursued her relentlessly, tracking her down no matter where she went within the store. Just before she departed that morning, she had pulled him aside and said in clear precise tones, “I’m reporting you.”

  It wasn’t until the district manager had entered the store the next night that he realized that the object of his growing desire was a stronger opponent than he had ever anticipated. His boss had been congenial and apologetic, requesting in soft tones to be careful with the troublesome assistant manager.

  “You know how women can be sometimes,” the district manager said with a wink.

  That was when he began to hate her with venom that coursed through his veins. Never had he been so humiliated. No one had ever questioned his actions before. There had to be a way to punish her impudence and reinstate the proper order of things. He could see that his power had diminished in the eyes of his workers. It was difficult to contain the fury he felt.

  He began to watch her every move. One by one, he took in her habits. He noted how she kept to herself but always had a kind word when she was approached by someone. He noticed with disdain that she always wore black. He wore dark colors to intimidate, but she wore her clothes stylishly and exuded elegance. Though she chatted with the other co-workers about their mundane lives, her own life remained shrouded in mystery. This was a tactic he used to instill discomfort, but she only came across as a young woman who lived with her cat and had not much else to tell.

  At lunchtime, she never joined the rest of the employees, but slipped out the front door. Every time he saw her leave the building, he tried to track her in the parking lot but she always seemed to disappear without a trace just beyond the delivery trucks. She never stayed late, leaving just before dawn. As he watched her, she became more and more of an enigma.

  He couldn’t speak to her as he once had so he resorted to other actions instead. When she was busy, he would move to her side and just stare at her face as she worked. She never responded. Concentrating, he would try to make his gaze more penetrating, but she wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence. If she walked by him, he would deliberately drop boxes of supplies onto the floor at her feet, or his favorite trick, accidentally flip a pen right at her. But all these actions were never acknowledged.

  The more she ignored him, the more he wanted to hurt her.

  He often saw other employees speaking softly to her, obviously talking about him. It angered him that she spoke with them with compassion in her expression and humor in her tone. The employees often walked away smiling, seeming more at ease.

  She was undermining him.

  He was so frustrated, when he lay in his bed during the day trying to sleep, he would fantasize about taking her forcibly right there at work. He could feel his hands closing over her neck, pushing her back onto a copier as she cried out in terror. Sometimes, that was his only solace when she ignored him. No matter what happened, he would always conquer her in his dreams.

  One night he strode up to her as she sat at a computer and leaned over her. Breathing heavily, he watched her face as her fingers tapped away on the keyboard. To his surprise, she slowly rotated toward him and gazed up at him.

  “Why are you a complete and total asshole?” she asked coolly, surprising him.

  Never had she used such a tone with him before or seen her appear so uncomfortable in his presence. At last he had worn her down. He was elated.

  Everything fell silent around him, only the hum and clicking of the machines sounding. Every eye was turned on them. He had an audience for her humiliation.

  “If I’m an asshole, what are you?” he asked, setting her up for her fall. The word bitch was perched tantalizingly on his lips.

  With a smile, she stood up and stared directly into his eyes. “The bitch that can make your life into a living hell if you continue to fuck with me.”

  Raucous laughter filled the store and for the first time in his life, his face flushed red. As she turned on her heel and left him standing alone frustrated and humiliated, he knew he had come to the end of his endurance
.

  For a week he seethed as his employees avoided him, but ably did their jobs. He avoided his impudent assistant manager, unable to restrain the urge to throttle her whenever she was near.

  A week later he found his chance to conquer her. It was the slowest night of the week and two employees called in sick. He was alone with her. For the first half of the night he pretended to not take notice of her, only casting furtive glances in her direction. As usual she ignored him and moved about as she worked efficiently on her own.

  Then it was lunch time.

  “I’m going out. I’ll be back in an hour,” she said as she picked up her purse.

  The bell over the door jingled as she left.

  Breathing heavily, he darted after her. He already had his plan. Away from the security cameras within the store, he would teach her not to defy him. In the end, it would be her word against his.

  As the cool wind hit his face, his eyes swept over the parking lot, seeking her out. He saw nothing in the empty parking lot except his own car and two delivery vans.

  Stealthily, he moved through the shadows, evading the light from the street light near the corner of the parking lot. She couldn’t have gotten too far. His keen hearing discerned nothing but the distant sounds of traffic on the nearby highway. There were not footfalls to follow and her car still sat in its parking spot.

  Where had she gone?

  The sharp sound of glass shattering was followed by the street lamp abruptly falling dark. Twisting around, he stared up at the broken street lamp, the hair on his arms starting to rise. Something dark flitted overhead, the wake of air from its passing ruffled his slicked hair. The fine hair on his arms rose as his brow beaded with sweat.

  Something large landed on the delivery van near him and he spun about, trying to catch a glimpse of what it might be. Again something dark passed overhead. He gasped as he caught sight of red eyes gleaming down at him. A felt a jolt of fear electrify him. Not the fear of being caught in his insidious plans, but the fear that he had often seen in the eyes of the small animals he had tortured as a child.