BLOOD TOUCH--Welcome to the Gratista Vampire Clan

  READ AN EXCERPT FROM "CARESS OF A PSYCHOPATH--SALLOS: HIS FORMER YEARS" OUT NOW!

    

O’Malley lived in a quaint little housing development in the area. I only passed by this particular area only a few times in my life. There wasn’t much up here except for places like this and car dealerships along with a few specialty stores. Ho-hum.

I took the road into the development very slowly, with my lights off. Places like this looked like a sublevel of suburbia hell.  I made a face as I looked at all the cookie cutter houses, perfectly manicured lawns, and actual picket fences. I wanted to just kick them all down. Life is not some fuckin’ perfect utopian place, and these people tried their damndest to make it that way, as if they would be ‘safe’ in their little haven. What a bunch of weak, sorry-ass, bureaucratic, asswipes!

I was getting a funny vibe from the grounds of this area. This land was ‘disturbed’, for lack of a better word.  So, the developers who put this piece of shit fairy tale place together didn’t investigate whether the lands were holy, sacred, or whatever. There were definitely some unquiet spirits floating around here….

Well, couldn’t worry about that right then. I had other things to take care of.

“Fern St., There it is,” Quaid said quietly, pointing to a street off to my left. I went in that direction.

O’Malley’s car seemed so out of place in here, but nevertheless, his house was easy to spot, thanks to that hunk-o-junk he rode.

Grabbing the supplies out of the trunk, we all casually strode up to his house, and I kicked open the front door, battle axe swung over my shoulder. Fuck, I didn’t care about being quiet this time.

“John?” came a voice from upstairs. Whoever she was, she had a thick Irish accent.

“Daddy!” came two mouse-like voices next. Ooo, little kiddies to play with!

“Dad, did you take care of everything?” A body appeared from out of the dining room area into the living room, where we all were. It was a female, probably about thirteen. She was carrying a tray of cookies, probably getting ready to take them upstairs. She stared at us and we stared back. Then she screamed and dropped the tray, running back into the dining room.

“MOM! THE VAMPIRES ARE HERE! RUN!”

“Dear God!” I heard the mother say, and the two little tykes started screaming too.

“SHUTUP!” I yelled upstairs. “You sound like fucking squealing pigs!”

“Die, you demons from hell!” the mother said, suddenly pointing a fucking crossbow at us! Where the fuck she get that from?!

Twerp never saw it coming. That wooden arrow shot right through his heart. He gurgled, spat out blood and tried to pull it out of his chest, but he dropped.

“TWERP!” I yelled. “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch!” I spat.

The older kid came back into the room with a crossbow herself! Holy shit! She shot Keith, but got him in his stomach. He yanked out the arrow and charged at her.

The mother came partly down the steps, ready to attack again. Bertram went after her. She started shrieking when she hit Bert and only got him in his shoulder. He roared, and they started tussling on the steps. He yanked the crossbow from her and backslapped her with it. She went soaring off to the side, breaking the railing in the process, landing on the hardwood floor with a hard thud. He broke the wooden arrow off close to his skin, jumped from where he was, landed beside her, rolled her over and hissed, showing red eyes. His fangs extended and he lunged for her neck, biting down hard. The mother opened her eyes and cried out, clawing at Bertram’s back.

“MOTHER!” the kid screamed and tried to go after her, but Keith knocked her to the ground too. The next thing I knew, he ripped her gown and started eating her, a little too close to her groin area, right in her femoral artery. If she screamed any louder, she’d probably break glass.

Me and Quaid just stood there, watching. I patiently waited for them to finish having their fun.

“Don’t kill them just yet,” I said calmly. “We have more stuff to do with them. When you’re done, grab some chairs and start tying ‘em up.”

I looked at Twerp, dead as a doornail. I sighed, stepped over him and casually, and went up the stairs. Quaid followed behind me. I sniffed around. Little kiddies’ fear smells nothing like grown-up fear. It actually smells…sweet. Kinda weird. Almost like cotton candy mixed with blood.

The smell was so heavy, I couldn’t pinpoint which room they were in, so Quaid and I took our sweet time busting into each room. I’d turn over a vanity table, dresser drawer, break a mirror--anything to make the kiddies yelp in fear. Nothing so far.

“Come out and play kiddies!” I said cheerfully, as I broke another mirror with my fist. I opened a closet and tore the clothes from the hangars. Nobody.

“The smell is getting a bit nauseating,” Quaid said, holding his stomach.

“I know. Tell me about it,” I mumbled as we walked into another room. The smell was really strong in here.

“C’mon little pork chops,” I said and grinned. “The wolf is getting hungry…” I grinned, my fangs starting to extend.

I saw a bed. I flipped the whole fucking thing over, frame and all. Nothing.

“The fuck--?” I said. I thought for sure they’d be there.

But there was a closet….

I levitated myself just enough that my feet weren’t touching the floor. I glided over to the closet, waited exactly ten seconds, the yanked the door open.

Ah, the wonderful screams of fear.

The smell of it practically smacked me in my face the second I opened the door. Quaid actually coughed. The two kiddies, no older than five, had their arms wrapped around each other, yelling right at me. One boy and one girl.  I tilted my head at them. Hm, this was gonna be more fun than I thought!

I gripped them both up by their collars and looked at each of them. They stopped their screaming; now they were sniffling and crying.

“Aw, don’t be afraid kiddies,” I said in a gentle voice, my eyes red and teeth still extended. (How oxymoronic, right?) I tossed the boy to Quaid, and the kid squealed in mid air. Quaid caught him effortlessly. I carried the girl like a groom would do his bride. “You’ll still be able to see your Daddy come home tonight.”

***

Bertram and Keith had the older daughter and mother tied ever so neatly to two chairs, back to back, while the two of them were sitting on the couch waiting for me and Quaid to come down. The Mother was barely conscious. She had a nasty bruise on the side of her face, probably from the fall. The girl was still out like a light.

Holding the little girl under my arm, I grabbed a chair, swung it around to face the mom, and sat down in front of her. I placed the kiddie on my lap and proceeded to play ‘horsey’ with her, like how a dad would do. The mother looked at me wide-eyed.

“Bastard…” she managed to say. “You will rot in hell for this! May God curse you…”

“Keith, shut her up please,” I interrupted, sounding annoyed. Immediately he put a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

“You don’t like seeing mommy like that, do you?” I said very gently to the girl, still with my vamp face.

Sniffling with tears rolling down her rosy little cheeks, she shook her head ‘no’.

Quaid still held the little boy under his arm, him not saying a word either.

“Want me to let mommy go?” I continued. She nodded ‘yes’.

I took a small switchblade out of my pocket and flicked it. I stared into the mother’s eyes as I ran the blade down the kiddie’s cheek, then ran my tongue slowly up the cut. The little girlie squirmed and whined, so I squeezed the back of her neck to keep her still. The mother stared at me, wide eyed, then gave me an evil look. She gave a muffled noise, probably cursing me out again.

Little kiddies taste really sweet! I could eat them like actual food if I wanted to. But I don’t think I could do that any ‘ol time. The sweetness is too rich for me. I’d consider them an occasional treat, like a dessert or something.

“Well, I’m not gonna let mommy go,” I continued in my gentle voice, still staring at the mother. “In fact, I’m gonna put you with mommy, ok?”

She shook her head no, and I bit into her neck as I still stared at mother dearest. She tried screaming, but of course, it could barely be heard. Tears went down her face as her little girl wailed like a hurt animal.

“SHUT…UP!” I exclaimed. “Damn, that’s such an annoying sound!” I stood up, just letting the kid tumble to the floor. Her wailing got louder.

“Keith?” I said, gesturing to the kid. Again, he got the duct tape.

“Wrap her up with her mom,” I said to Bert, who was all too happy to comply.

“How’s the shoulder?” I asked him.

“Still stings a bit, but no biggie,” he replied, placing the little girl on her mom’s lap, proceeding to tie her up.

“And as for you, little boy,” I said, walking towards Quaid. I bent down slightly and stared into the kid’s eyes. “I’ve got something very special planned for you. You’re gonna leave daddy a message.”

Quaid stood the kid up, and the little bugger was trembling like a leaf. The bastard stomped on my foot and tried to get away, but I caught him with little effort.

“I was gonna make this painless for you, but I’ve changed my mind,” I said, biting down hard into his throat.

He shrieked and the guys flinched from the sound. I nearly drained the kid dry, took my knife, nicked my wrist a bit to let a little blood flow, and wiped the cut across his tongue. I dropped him.

The four of us watch the boy writhe and gasp and flop around like a fish out of water.

“Dude…this is so… fucked up,” Bertram whispered.

“I know,” I said, grinning.

The boy lay still for a full minute. A minute feels like forever when you’re actually waiting. Then he gasped, coughed and slowly sat up, heaving and growling like he was hungry. His face looked feral, like a fuckin’ wild child or something. Growling, he lunged for Quaid, but Quaid knocked him down. He got up again, and tried attacking Bert. Bertram laughed and picked him up, the kid swinging and clawing at Bert, trying to get to him.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Quaid asked, wrinkling his nose at the kid.

“I think I know the answer to why vamps should never turn little tykes into vamps.”

“Humor me. Why?” Bert said, still holding the growling kiddie away from him at arm’s length.

“Well...look at him! Pure fury with no sense of right or wrong. His brain was still young and undeveloped when he was turned. Kinda says something about the primal instincts of humanity, when you think about it.” I said. “Okay, fun’s over. Tie him up.” I nonchalantly waved at the little monster I created.

“Where?” Quaid asked, the rope already in hand.
          “Anywhere. I don’t give a shit,” I said plainly.

Quaid tied him to the bottom banister while Bert held the mini-bloodsucker still.

“Now what?” Bert asked when Quaid was done.

“We wait for pops, of course!”

So we fixed the lock on the front door, and patiently waited for O’Malley to come home. I was betting he’d shit his pants when he came in.

***

And shit his pants he did. Well, he could have.

O’Malley came through the door like he knew something was wrong. He gawked at his bruised wife, his two bloodied daughters, and dropped to his knees when he saw his crazy, tied up, vamp son. All the females were unconscious now, only the boy was still up and at ‘em. O’Malley didn’t even notice us standing behind the door.

O’Malley wheezed, clutching his chest. I thought he was having either a stroke or heart attack. I hoped he wasn’t. That would fuck up the last of my fun!

I flung his broken rosary at him, hitting him in the back of his head. That seemed to snap him out of it.

He turned and only managed to gasp as I smacked him upside his head with the flat side of the battleaxe. Bert helped me tie him up to another chair and we waited for him to come around.

When O’Malley finally opened his eyes, he was looking right at me. I had his son untied by then, and I was holding the kid just a few feet from him. I kept the kid still by gripping him right in a pressure point in his neck, rendering him weak on one half of his body.

“YA LIMEY BASTARD!” O’Malley bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth. “I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

“Maybe. Right now, you do have a choice. Kill us…. or your family dies, or… kill your son, and I’ll let your family live.”

“That’s not my son!” he growled at me. “My son is dead!”

“True,” I continued in my calm voice. The kid started growling back at his pop, his eyes white, teeth extending. Pops started bawling.

“No one left to carry the O’Malley name, huh? No future grandchildren will be running around. At least from him.” I snickered, gripping the kid by the neck a little tighter. He winced.

O’Malley regained his angry composure. “I’ll find you and kill you. I swear on my life!”

“If I let you live,” I corrected him calmly. “So, you say your son is dead?” I held the kid by his head, ready to snap his neck.

“Don’t,” he grumbled. The look in his eyes showed a tiny bit of desperation.

“But you said this is not your son,” I replied teasingly. “Make up your mind, old fart.”

“Let my family go, demon! I don’t care what you do to me, just let them go.”

“On the contrary, if I let them go, then you have to kill the thing you say is not your son.”

O’Malley roared.  “TO THE PIT OF HELL, YOU FILTHY ABOMINATIONS!”

“Enough with the gospel-ish talk already,” I said, letting the kid go. He went right for his pop’s jugular.

O’Malley screamed, knocking his chair backward. The kid was a ball of fury; red eyes and fangs. He clawed at his dad’s face as pops managed to wiggle out of his restraints, grab a small hand carved stake that was attached to his very Batman-ish utility belt, throw his son down, and pummel the stake into the kid’s chest repeatedly. When he realized what he had done, he stopped and dropped the wooden shard, burst out into tears, picked up his dead, bloody son, and cradled him to his chest.

“My boy…! My boy…!” he kept repeating. I leaned back in the chair, enjoying the show. The guys slowly got up from their places and crept up on O’Malley. He noticed.

“BACK OFF, MONSTERS!” he bellowed again, standing up, a stake in each hand now. “I’ll kill you where you stand!”

“Well, guys,” I said cheerfully. “He killed his son. Should I let his family live?” I got up, and slowly walked to the unconscious females. “Or…should I change the rules a bit?”

“Don’t…you…DARE!” O’Malley said, his face red as a beet.

“And why not?! You killed one of our brothers three nights ago! I saw you,” I retorted, standing over the older daughter, licking the blood off of her face as I looked at him. “Right in the alley, while he was in the middle of fucking his snack-of-the-night.”

“I will destroy you all, with God as my witness! I will cleanse this planet of all of Satan’s creatures!”

“And more with the gospel talk!” I snapped, overturning the chair with the girl in it. “Waste this dude!”
          Keith and Quaid lunged at O’Malley, and that old fucker moved so fast, stabbing them both at the same time! I shrieked, and he came towards me and Bert. Bert grabbed his wrists and they went at each other the old fashioned way. O’Malley socked Bert in the face; he stumbled. Bert came back with an inhuman sock to O’Malley’s gut. I swore I heard the wind get knocked out of the old man as he dropped. Bert then went over to the mother, grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck, then bit into her, draining her dry.

I rushed over to Keith and Quaid. Keith was gone; Quaid was still clinging to the last bit of breath he had left.

“We….had…fun, didn’t we?” he whispered, and then he was gone too.

I gripped my hair in frustration and screamed.

“FUCK!” I yelled. Bertram gripped his long golden tresses and stared at our now three dead comrades. He started breathing heavy. He walked over to the two girls and paced around them, trying to figure out what to do with them.

“Bert--wait,” I said. “Don’t get all crazy on me…”

He stood in front of the older girl, got on his hands and knees and sank his fangs into her neck, killing her. Now he had a raging hard on he didn’t know what to do with. It usually happens when a vamp feeds, but I guess you know that by now. He got up, went into the dining room so I couldn’t see what he was about to do, even though I heard. He jerked himself off. I heard the zip of his jeans, then the smacking, then a groan, and a wet splat next. Ew.

He re-emerged, looking a bit better, and saner.

“One more to go,” I gestured to the little girlie.

“I’ll let you have the honors,” he said, taking a deep breath.

I wasn’t in the mood for a sweet treat, but fuck it, it had to be done.

I got up off the floor and went over to her. Leaving her tied up to her mom, I leaned over and gently bit into her. She never even moved. After I fed, I stood up and turned just in time to see O’Malley get up and behead Bertram with my own axe. Poor guy never even knew…

I screamed as Bertram’s body dropped and I lunged for O’Malley. I tackled him to the ground, gripped him by his collar and slammed the back of his head against the floor. I was about to choke this fucker to death, but I stopped myself.

I duct taped his ankles to a chair, and taped his wrists together. To keep him alive would be the ultimate torture for him. And maybe leave a challenge for me to deal with later on, if he didn’t go insane first. Who knew?

Immersed in total silence now, I looked at the battle damage around me. Everyone dead, and blood everywhere. This was definitely a no-win situation. Just me and O’Malley left.

Then, as any good citizen would do, I picked up the phone…and called the cops.

Knowing I had but so much time left now, I gathered the bodies of my gang, put them in the car, and drove up the block and waited. I had to know how things would go at the O’Malley house.

Five minutes passed, and I heard sirens. Three cars came. Six coppers got out of their cars; three went in the house while the other three stayed outside. The sirens and flashing blue lights must have awakened the neighbors as some started peeking out of their windows and doors, or just boldly stood in their doorways.

Two cops pulled out a screaming O’Malley who was yelling at them about the vampires that attacked him and his family. Another siren. It was an ambulance. Coming to get the bodies, I assumed. I slouched down in the car seat as the ambulance whizzed by me. I giggled my ass off. I was in a car with dead bodies, watching an ambulance arrive to cart out more dead bodies. This shit couldn’t get any funnier.

The third cop that was in the house came out, and he and another cop started putting crime scene tape around the place.

When I figured it was safe enough, I drove by the house, and I could still hear O’Malley in the back of the cop car, yelling on and on about vampires. I purposely looked in the backseat as I passed by, and he saw me.  I grinned at him. He yelled again and started slamming his head against his seat, cursing me and damning me to hell all over again, then tried to get the attention of the cop in the driver’s seat. Of course, the cop ignored him. O’Malley put his feet up to the window and tried breaking it. The cop called someone on his walkie, talking about him having a ‘302’ on his hands. I think that was cop code for a ‘crazy person’.

Alright. Fun time was really over now. I had more things to deal with that involved four corpses in my car.

I wondered how I was gonna explain this shit….

 

***

This excerpt copyright 2006 by Cinsearae S.

 

 

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A Distant Mirror--- Antonio: The Danse Macabre

The Gratista Clan's Second-in-Command, Antonio,  tells his tale of his magickal experiences from Shamanism into dealings with Necromancy right before meeting up with Divanna and becoming part of the clan....

 

CHECK BACK FOR UPDATES....

A QUICK EXCERPT FROM....

 

Grendel made an inhuman noise. Richard and Mark froze at
the bottom of the stairs just as they were about to check on their
friends.
Celine grabbed two very prison-like cuffs attached to chains
that were hidden under the bed. Peter’s eyes widened.
“What the hell…?!”
“Peter, help me, quick!”
“What are you doing to him?”
“Just help me damn it! Cuff his other hand, then get his
ankles!”
Halfway up the stairs, Mark nearly pissed his pants. Richard
wasn’t sure whether to be happy his theory was correct or if he
should flee for his life.
Back in the bedroom, Peter grabbed Grendel’s ankle, noticing
it was hairier. He grimaced before putting the cuff around it. Celine
however, was having some trouble. Grendel squirmed in his
restraints, not wanting to have all four limbs locked down. He
kicked his leg everywhere, giving Celine some hassle. He howled
again, his body expanding, splitting his clothes. Celine and Peter
watched as Grendel’s face elongated, the bones popping and
splitting with the transformation. The screams of pain were too
much as Peter covered his ears.
Fur continued to grow on Grendel’s body; his feet cracking,
reforming into a more dog-like shape. His toenails yellowed and
formed points, as did his fingernails. The skin on his face had
burst and peeled away to expose a very bloody, wet, canine one.
Grendel’s jaw and nose shaped into a muzzle; his ears stretched
into points. His eyes were completely feral now. ‘Grendel’ wasn’t
in them anymore, but some wild, man/wolf-thing. Grendel
managed to scream Celine’s name one more time before it became
another howl...

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A QUICK EXCERPT FROM

He went into the bank and filled out a withdrawal slip.
His doppelganger watched him. “Write out the whole two
hundred, not a partial amount.”
“I am, will you shut the fuck up?” Terrell whispered
harshly. People turned and looked at him.
“People will think I’m nuts if you don’t shut up,”
Terrell said softly.
“Well, you don’t have to answer me out loud. Just nod
or something.”
The guard standing beside the door watched Terrell
carefully.
“Are you ready?” the ghost asked. Terrell nodded.
Then the spirit looked at the guard.
“Trouble’s coming,” it said.
“What do you mean?” he asked, then slapped his hand
over his mouth.
The guard walked up to him, and Terrell was frozen in
place.
“You got a problem, son?”
“No,” Terrell answered curtly. The doppelganger
slapped his own forehead in Terrell’s impudence.
The guard folded his arms. “You been drinking?”
“This early in the morning?!”
The doppelganger groaned. Terrell glanced at him, and
the guard noticed again.
“Let me see your I.D., son.”
“What the hell is this? Why are you harassing me?!”
Everyone in the bank was looking at him now.
“I think you better calm down real fast, son.”
“I’d calm down if you left me alone!”
“Just put your hands in the air son, and nothing will
happen to you.”
“NO! I’m not some fucking thief! You can’t do this to
me! I did nothing wrong! I’ll sue you AND this fucking
bank!”
“Terrell, just be quiet. You’re only making it worse,”
the ghost said as he looked around.
“Well if you hadn’t come into my life, none of this
bullshit would be happening!” Terrell said to his
doppelganger.
“Who are you talking to, boy?!” the guard asked
smartly.
“No one!” Terrell looked at the doppelganger again.
“Don’t blame me for your problems. The only reason
why I showed up in your pathetic, so-called life is because
you need to be helped before you wind up in Chaos!”
“And who are you looking at?!” the guard asked
impatiently.
“Will you stop talking about Chaos?!” Terrell
snapped.
“Say what?” The guard gave him a weird look.
Terrell made a break for the door, but the guard was
quicker than him.
“You need some help son,” he said, taking his walkie
off his belt, then slamming Terrell’s butt into a chair,
holding him by one shoulder. The guard called for the cops,
mentioning he had a possible ‘302’ that needed to be picked
up.
“Let me go! Get the hell off of me! There’s nothing
wrong with me! It’s my dapple… doppelganger! He keeps
talking to me! Keeps telling me to change all my bad
ways!”
“Just sit still son. Someone will be here to get you.”
“For what? Will you get the hell off of me?! Isn’t it
pretty obvious that you aren’t supposed to see him? He’s a
fucking ghost for crying out loud! I’m the only one that can
see him because he’s MY ghost!”
The doppelganger was sitting in a chair right next to
him, shaking his head. Terrell looked at him.
“Make yourself appear or something! Help me out
here!”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Some help you’re being!”
The guard merely shook his head as Terrell
continued to appear as if he were talking to himself.
“What the hell’s a 302?” Terrell suddenly asked the
guard.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied.

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