Chapter 1
I open my eyes.
Shiver
Everything feels so heavy, and I haven't even sat up yet. My eyes and their sockets feel as though the head of a sledge hammer weighs them down. I hear the pelting and stamping of heavy rain on the roof, it's comforting. As I sit up my world implodes, twisting and contorting itself from the surface of my retinas back towards the centre of my brain. I close my eyes and relax, welcoming the fuzz of a faint. “Curse my low blood pressure” I think to myself.
Opening my eyes again I am thankful a star is no longer dying inside my skull. I can hear voices murmur and cackle, reverberating down the hallway from the lounge. “I swear if dad has friends over this early in the morning.” I meander over to my drawers like I am drunk, the cold seeping into my exposed upper body. A torturous way to wake up. Rain pings off my window as I open my curtain and stomp quietly towards the hallway. My body is compressed with an exhausted sensation yet I feel so bundled with energy, like I could slay the devil himself. With a hint of hope I murmur “Today could be alright.” I creak down the hallway, hungry for some breakfast. A scratchy draft itches at my heels, “curse this old farm house” I think to myself. I peek around the corner of the lounge door, curious about dads guests. The sterile, sharp smell of blood crawls deep into my lungs.
Shiver
“Today is not going to be alright” I think to myself.
A pure scarlett mess envelopes the kitchen to my right. A star is dying inside my skull again, my skin shivers whilst my insides numb, fear is tranquilising me. A middle aged man, iced with rough brown hair and an also rough thin beard, with his relatively muscular build, this makes him look like a very stocky mop. He is accompanied by two acquaintances, the first acquaintance is a lanky looking teenage boy, definitely older than me given the stubbles on his chin. But he is definitely not mature, as his grin radiates some evil and naive vibes. The second acquaintance is a girl either my age or older, it's always hard to tell how old they are because they are all so short (she is only 5-10 cm shorter than me at most, so she cannot be younger). Her hair is pitch black, long and uniform. It’s dyed dark purple at the frizzy ends, that sit comfortably tight to her slim frame. Her hair reaches down to just below her “female chest area”. They’re nice and petite to her frame but not underdeveloped. Her pale yet sharp face and tight lips distract me from the fear that the kitchen radiates. Her eyes are glued to the award worthy gore, she’s drooling, and manages to make it look cute.
“I wonder…” I say to myself, moving towards them. A very delusional decision.
Creek
They are definitely aware of me
“Heeheheeeee!” screeches the lanky one.
“What a retard” I think to myself.
He crooks his head towards me and begins to approach, an elegant yet prideful walk. With his arms splayed out to reveal claw like melee weapons on his fingertips. Are they claws? They look awfully refined, as though he has blades for fingernails. I cannot tell. He looks like a hunchback with the way he walks.
“Oi! Little shit. Don’t act on your own or I will kill you. You’re barely worth your blood so know your place.” The man that looks like a mop finally talks.
“Tch!” replies the lanky one.
“Fucking useless” mutters the stocky mop. “I wonder if his kid can fight.” he says this aloud.
“His kid…” I mutter. My heartbeat flutters. My eyes wander over to the unrecognisable soup of remains, “Dad?” I hear the rain intensify, my ears practically plunge themselves outside deafening and blinding me from the scene at hand.
“Hey kid, I’m going to give you a chance to live.” says the stocky mop “ I’m sick of this useless beanstalk getting in the way.”
I can’t hear him.
“All you have to do..” He continues “is beat this vampire in a fight to the death.” He is pointing to the lanky one “and drink his blood once you’re done.”
I’m not listening.
Without looking away from the soup in the kitchen the cute girl mumbles “Do you think his body can even handle it?”
“Did someone say something?” I think to myself as I am resurrected from a mental slumber. (It was the cute girl that woke me from my daze).
“You can be free.” The man emphasises the word “free”, his facial expression is warm and inviting.
“I can be free? … so I won’t die?” I say aloud. My body feels responsive again, the numbness disappears and my head clears. I realise: “Dad is dead. I can leave the house, I can do what I want.” I am free. Excitement courses through my veins, my head a film of possibilities. I get up and begin to leave. “Thank you,” I say to the man.
“Wait! Did you not hear what I just said?” He looks at me funny when he says this. He explains the information I missed whilst I was in a daze, he promises to explain the vampire joke to me assuming I'm not dismembered. Although he seemed oddly adamant about the lanky one being a vampire.
“So he’s in my way huh?” I turn towards the lanky vampire with raging determination in my eyes. I am feigning for freedom. The lanky one has been bellowing with laughter ever since the fight was declared. “Am I that out matched in his mind? What a prideful little bitch.” I think to myself. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” I declare (not aloud).
