A Tale of the Unnatural: blood

Showing posts with label blood. Show all posts

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Chapter Five Part One

“Could it be a Chupacabra?” asked Morrison of his deputy. A hunter that used to trap squirrels and wild rabbits in the forest had come upon a white tailed fawn that had been ripped apart and bled dry. “I don’t think so, so far up north... it could be a cougar or mountain lion... but, yes I know, if it walks like a duck... I’ll drive into the forest early tomorrow and take a look for myself.” the deputy answered.

Morrison put the Pontiac in drive and u-turned back to his office. “Is it a beast or a creature? That is the question!” thought the Keeper. There really was no hurry for him to go anywhere. Things had been quiet, as usual for a small town, “Maybe I should stop for a latte?” he pondered.

Morrison’s deputy decided not to wait until the next day. He walked up the street to the firehouse, borrowed an ATV and headed for the forest. He wanted to be back before nightfall.

(To Be Continued.)

Monday, May 26, 2014

Chapter Four Part Nine

Hunger led Remus to scavenge. He could swiftly snatch a squirrel off a limb, rip off its head, to make peeling the skin easier, and devour the raw flesh. The squirrels were tasty, ok, but made for a skimpy meal and Remus was also very thirsty, a thirst that the small furry animals insignificant amount of blood would not satisfy. The slaughtered game became larger with each kill. The cavern that had opened up in his body could not be filled.

The forest did not offer a large variety of prey. The bears, wolves and mountain lions had been hunted to extinction. Only the occasional herd of deer would trek through foraging on the way to higher ground. There was nothing the white tailed doe could do to save her fawn from Remus. He fell on the fawn knocking it to the ground, pull the neck back until it snapped and ferociously, like some animal, bit deep and hard into the fawn’s neck. Hugging the dead fawn on the forest floor, Remus let the blood drain into his mouth.

The small herd ran off without looking back.

End of Chapter Four

(To Be Continued.)

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Chapter Four Part Five

Tyrol got home early. He had to stop himself from skipping his way home. It’s embarrassing for a vampire or just about any teenager to do that. Tyrol felt light hearted, light headed, or something like that. Silence pulled Tyrol into the grand room. It was empty of vampires. The TV set was free to use! He picked up the remote, sat on the floor and searched for his favorite shows; the ones he liked when mortal that is.

Delighted that the reruns of ‘How I Met Your Mother’ were endlessly back to back, he leaned on a cushion to watch. Tyrol couldn’t concentrate on the program. His mind kept traveling back to the precious minutes he had spent with her. There was nothing about her that he didn’t like. He even found endearing her evasive answer about some gypsy rule that forbad her from going out at night.

The nest was coming about, so Tyrol switched off the TV and readied himself to join his ‘roommates’ and go out to feed. The notion made him reflect. “It’s the first time, since turned...; I didn’t feel any lust for her blood...; at all!”

“Could that be love?” thought Tyrol.

(To Be Continued.)

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Chapter Four Part Two

There he was, leaning against a tree with his hands in his jacket’s pockets. “He is so handsome! Almost beautiful!” thought Kalina. Tyrol had the same thoughts about her, “Beautiful; beautiful; beautiful!” A smile opened on his face that almost exposed his fangs. “She can’t know I’m a vampire. That’ll scare her away!” he thought. He closed his mouth into a thin smile and walked to meet her.

Kalina had her own secret to keep. She turned the timid handshake into a kiss on each cheek. Tyrol was a bit colder than she imagined. Kalina couldn’t understand how someone who lived on fresh warm blood could be cold. But, so be it.

A lady walking her dog was the only company they had. Even if she had paid them any attention she would have only seen a couple of kids walking, talking and sometimes sitting.

It was the dog who wouldn’t let her get anywhere near those teens.

(To Be Continued.)

Friday, April 11, 2014

Chapter Three Part Thirteen

A sign that reads ‘The First Three Questions Are Free’ was what brought Tyrol within sight of Kalina. “No wonder Agros belittles the gypsies...” He hadn’t finished the thought when he caught a glimpse of Kalina. The rest was a matter of wandering uncaringly up to the booth where she worked. Kalina could have thought that she reeled him in with her mind.

After a faltering conversation about love potions and good luck amulets, Tyrol cut to the chase. “At what time do you get out of here? Work, I mean.” “Well, um, it’s like, you know, a family thing and...” Kalina fumbled. “Don’t tell me you work all day, all night, seven days?” Tyrol kept at it. “No, no, no... I mean...” Tyrol interrupted, “How about tonight?” “Oh, no... No! Tonight is impossible!” finding herself in a corner Kalina hit back, “Tomorrow, maybe?” “Sure!” he answered instantly.

Dante found the boy talking to Kalina vaguely familiar.

(To Be Continued.)

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Chapter Two Part Nine

Werewolves have always felt comfortable in the city of Rome, obviously, because the city was founded by werewolves. It may not be the official version but why would the brothers be thought to be demigods? Why else would the She-wolf care and feed the twins? They were one of a kind, well almost. Of course, the werewolves like the demigods were mortal. It was that mortality that the original Keepers embraced.

Their defense of the human population of ancient Rome from the vampires was what gave base to the myth that vampires and werewolves are mortal enemies. Yes, they were forced to destroy a few of the more cocky ones, then, but for the most part it was convincing them to go on to other pastures or be preyed upon right there. The werewolves are enormous beasts and could destroy most anything but they were also creatures of the night. They knew the unnatural was as real as the world mortals are aware of. But the wolf-men also knew what dying meant. They felt that all creatures mortal or undead had the right to exist. That right had to be protected.

It was their mortality that made them think that way.

(To Be Continued.)

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Chapter Two Part Six

For a while it became fashionable in ancient Rome to drink blood. The custom started as a sign of respect for the animal being slaughtered. It promptly became entertainment. The animals were bled as a spectacle for the dinner guests and the blood became an appetizer. Depending on the size of the party, three or more different animals could be killed. It became a matter of refinement to be able to recognize the source of the blood only from the taste.

After a while, it really was too messy, the bleeding and slaughtering was removed to another room and only the fresh blood was served. It was only a skip and a step away for someone to come up with the idea of bleeding a Christian, they were relatively inexpensive, and serve up a uniquely flavored blood. Determining the origin of the blood became a guessing game. Lamb! Goat! Pig! Lion! But human blood has a special sweetness to its taste. I guess it’s because it tastes like ourselves.

The Romans couldn’t have been more successful attracting vampires had they put out a want-ad for them. The werewolves had no choice but to step up their game.

(To Be Continued.)

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Chapter Two Part Four

The gypsy zombies, you could say, were picking up the pieces. Literally. Dante, the undying gypsy king, had the feeling, a feeling that somehow, something was going on, something beyond his tribe. Beyond all creatures, he felt, beyond the Keepers themselves. The attack made no sense at all. It hurt a lot of people and a few of his gypsies had actually been destroyed. Brains burnt in the bonfire can’t come back.

There were too many with pieces missing. Their skin had not yet healed. Not even in the daylight. If you happened to look upon the wreckage, the only thing absent would be the groans. Zombies felt no pain.

The old man, Dante, had the knowledge of his ancestors plus the wisdom acquired from decades of being undead. He wondered for how long he would continue to be king. He must keep an eye on his nephew Remus. His skin healed the fastest and he had taken to strutting around the camp, “Much too agile for a zombie; even for a young strong one.” He thought.

The Keepers kept creeping back into his mind. Why?

(To Be Continued.)

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Chapter One Part Six

Agros tried the old ‘stare-them-down’ vampire trick. It always works on humans. Fangs extended, claws uncurled and arms reaching for a graceful kill. Remus simply grabbed the other’s arms and ripped them off. The children smashed out teeth with fangs and all, pulled feet and hands off. One grand old gypsy punched his vampire in the chest ripping a hole that spit the demon’s heart out the other side.

What the zombies lacked the vampires had aplenty. Blood!

Blood poured forth from every broken limb, every hurt and every scratch. Agros’ dangling veins showered Remus with the tainted blood. It’s like if fire hoses were soaking everything in blood to put out a fire. It seemed that the blood had a life of its own flying through the air until it found someone to splash on. Without arms to fight, Agros bite into Remus’ face, the fangs clawed at eyes and mouth. Remus summoned all his power to his hands and slammed them against each side of the vampire’s head. Agros’ crushed head vomited a torrent of blood.

It had nowhere to go except into Remus’ cheek-less mouth.

(To Be Continued.)

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Chapter One Part Three

Agros’ preference for young children was well known within the nest. He always said the youngest are the tastiest. Their blood was uncontaminated by the trash accumulating in the blood stream over the years. Agros specially disliked drunks. It was too vinegary to enjoy. Good only for the very, very hungry.

He hovered between the wagons searching for his first bite of the night. There it was, a tiny baby that seemed to be feeding from its mother’ breast. Agros dived into the shadows, with his mouth wide open and his pearly fangs glistening.

His move was like a cue. The demons all came down on their chosen prey. Fangs chomped down into necks, groins and chests, each mouth searching for their favorite source of blood. Like wine, the taste of blood varies depending on the region - organ, vein or artery - it was found. Some liked it straight from the heart although it wasn’t easy to get through the rib cage. If you like Pinot Noir you probably won’t care for Merlot.

But Agros’ child tasted like shit!

(To Be Continued.)