Blood & Roses:Warriors of the Krieger(2)

By: Theresa Hissong

Before I reached the wood pile, I was attacked.

Something, or someone, grabbed me by the back of the head and started gnawing on my neck. The sharp piercing pain was excruciating. I can still remember the feel of his teeth tearing at the flesh on my neck. The sound of the animal slopping up my blood still echoed in my head. Unfortunately, I also remember the feel of him forcing himself upon me after he had torn my clothes away from my body.

The image of his profile haunts me to this day. Dark red hair that hung in dirty strings down one side of his face, a hazel eye glaring at my ravaged body, and the thin line of his lips were my memories of the night I became a vampire. His unearthly laugh echoes through my mind whenever I remember that fateful night almost three hundred years ago.

All I remember after that was waking up seeing Lydia, who had given me her blood and bada boom, bada bing, I was a vampire.

I unlocked the solid steel door to my bedroom that’s in the sunlight resistant basement and turned left for the stairs. I passed the kitchen that was hardly ever used, and stopped off in the laundry room to drop my dirty clothes in the hamper. Out to the garage, where my beautiful ultrasonic blue Lexus IS F sat patiently awaiting my arrival. The automobile was one of the best inventions mankind has made to date; just my humble opinion. I can and do frequently drool over sexy, sleek automobiles.

After backing out of my four car garage, I glanced over at my two other babies; a fire red Aston Martin DBS coupe and an ultimate black Jaguar XK. I tapped the garage door clicker and drove down my long, tree lined driveway. I glanced in the rearview mirror to double check the security lights that lit up my one-story farmhouse, with an added basement, and the white picket fence that outlined the front half acre. The vampire safe guest house out back was dark, since I didn’t have any visitors as of late. I twisted forward in my seat, and then I was off into the night.

I live about fifteen minutes north of town, in the country. I love the quiet rural living. No ambulance noise, no gunshots, and no nosy neighbors to bother me. Owning a nightclub subjects me to enough real world reality; so living where I do, gives me a breather from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Lydia was standing by the vampire entrance to the Red Cross, tapping her size six stilettos, when I pulled into the parking lot. Jeez, she’s impatient. Her auburn hair was stacked up nice and tight in a bun on top of her petite face. She was dressed in her everyday best; tonight was a hunter green wrap around dress. Rings that cost more than a few months’ salary adorned most of her fingers, big gold hoop earrings, and matching cuff bracelets completed her outfit. I grabbed my identification card and locked up my beautiful baby, mentally promising to be back as soon as I could.

“You’re late, Charity,” Lydia snapped, still tapping that damn foot.

Checking my watch, I had to roll my eyes, “Three minutes. For a person who will live for eternity, you sure are impatient.”

She huffed and turned for the door. “I’m just thirsty. Don’t start.” We showed our cards and the lady at the counter told us to take a seat. The lobby wasn’t very full, but we still had to wait.

Vampires came out about eight years ago and now have the same rights as humans. The government welcomed us with open arms, but also with restrictions; which suits me just fine. I’m guessing the reason why we were welcome is because of the long term taxes we will pay over eternity. Money makes the world go around, I suppose.

We’re no longer allowed to hunt back alleys or prey on innocent humans for blood. (Insert evil laugh here!) In fact, I couldn’t tell you the last time I used mind control on a human. We just go down to the local Red Cross and pick from the buffet of donors. Easy as pie! Well, not quite pie, which would be awesome to have just a slice. Hmm, pie! Damn it! You would think after all these years I would have outgrown my cravings for human food. Nope, still crave it and can’t eat it. I tried a few times, but it only made me sick. I’m not going to go into details about it, because it’s gross. Leave it at that.

Finally our turn for breakfast, Lydia followed me into the receiving room. Donors were sectioned off by blood type. Each one a different flavor, like Baskin Robbins, but there was only eight flavors here; raging from the most common, O positive, to the rarest, AB negative. The rarer the blood type, the better the flavor. Of course, as with a fine wine, quality cost.

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