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Bloody Vampires!

Short story By: Charlie Gibbs
Horror



The story is about a female vampire who has had enough of the non life and wishes to end it. However she has one last mission, will it re-ignite her psssion.


Submitted:Oct 18, 2012    Reads: 48    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I hate vampires. I hate the way they're so needy and desperate for your affection whilst all the time plotting your demise.

The way they swan around being all pale and uninteresting and full of their own self importance.

Teenage girls are swooning over some actor playing a bloodsucking hero whose only lifesource is the life of others. Pathetic!

A local boy in the village I was brought up in was once bitten by a vampire but that was how it was then.

Localised. Like flooding and chicken pox.

They had to branch out though didn't they? They had to expand their empire and go to places where they weren't supposed to, like the school I'm at now. I spotted him straight away all floppy hair and look at me attitude.He has the girls in the palm of his hand and I think I've seen a few boys looking in his direction too.

Of course in the olden days vampires had no reflection and couldn't go out in daylight, something evolved and now you can't stop them.I could book myself on one of these all inclusive fortinights to Benidorm if I wanted to, but why would I?.

You can smell them everywhere, I see them in celebrity magazines showing the poor around their lavish new home with their trophy wives. I see them at film premieres trying to blend in with the public. They can't hide from me, I've been around too long.

My name is Milla Landers and I'm a vampire. I became a vampire many years ago, too many to remember now but I remember my father holding the wooden stake above my chest and lifting the hammer. That's the last memory I have of him, I prefer not to see him covered in blood, that look on his face as he realised he couldn't kill his daughter, and the look on his face as I killed him.

This is why I'm retiring, I don't want to do this anymore It's too draining and I'm bored by all the hype. When it was dark and mysterious we were the stuff of legends, now we're ten a penny. We've become a cheap commodity to be exploited.

There, I've had my rant. Now it's time to get on with the real work.

I got myself a job as receptionist at Northend Secondary Modern or whatever they call these institutions nowadays. The interview was quite easy I just mesmerised them like vampires do, they got sucked in, ha ha, and I got the job.It is monotonous. I answer the phone and greet parents, nothing too taxing. But the one thing about it I positively do like is the fact that I have access to the names and addresses of all pupils, I know his name and now I have his lair.My mission this evening is to stakeout, I love that word it's so modern, stakeout his lair and watch his movements, apparently this boy been chosen to be some high priest of vampires.

My goodness how vulgar.

The only definition I have of the word stakeout is the film where a man sits in a tree with a pair of binoculars, all very well and good if your in some movie that's on a cable channel at four in the morning but this is real life, or death in my case.

Anyway the floppy haired boy is called Jason, he's seventeen and athletic. He lives in a Victorian terraced house with his parents and if they are the same as him then I think all vampires should expire this minute. I could say the romance has gone out of our existence but it never was like that, it was gory, sordid and selfish, we'd rip families apart and never give it a second thought. I took a child from it's pram once, he tasted so sweet, his mother screamed and wailed and I just walked away my face flushed and my blood pumping with that of new energy.

His parents are away so he has the house to himself, my how these people trust their offspring, apparently he goes on this thing called facebook and he's told all and sundry to bring a bottle, what of, blood?, holy water?, absinthe?. I checked again, oh vodka and alcopops or something, what's wrong with a good old port and lemon?.

They arrive in cars driven by their parents.

"Have a good time" they wail after their child who totally ignores them and stomps off ungratefully. The house is pretty full now, I saw one of them throwing up out of a window and two have disappeared into the garden to do god knows what.

"Who invited the oldie?" a whiny unbroken voice asked. I looked around but there was no sign of Jason. The music started pumping and I found myself enjoying it. My head nodded to the beat and I took a drink. I watched a young man muscular and tanned, a smile came to my lips and something stirred, I could hear the blood of every one in the room rushing. They were hot and full of alcohol and I remembered when I used to enjoy being one of the undead.

We'd roam the lands in packs tearing up villages and mutilating police officers, those were the days my friend and we were invincible. Then they got wise to us. We should rise up again and reclaim our honour, but as I said. I'm tired and emotional.

I carry on drinking and enjoying myself much to my horror and then I spot him standing by the staircase talking to a girl. He takes her by the hand and they go upstairs, I follow of course after all I am on a stakeout. He takes her into what is commonly known as the master bedroom, how I laugh when I think of the master bedrooms I've graced, rooms that you could fit this entire house into, rooms painted red with the blood of the Master,the one's who thought I was just another serving girl.

I open the door and peer inside, candles are lit and there's a certain air about the place, something from the past that I can't quite recall.

I enter the room but I can't see them anywhere so I look around. On the wall is a picture, a picture of a person from long ago dressed in the attire of the well off. She's looking at the painter with a twinkle in her eye and it's then I hear them behind me.

"Auntie, I thought it was you, mum said you had a job at the school but I didn't believe her, great to meet you finally," my nephew introduces me to his friend, now drained of blood and falling to the floor and as I look again at the painting I remember the day it was created. The twinkle in my eye comes from the fact that the artist wanted to know what it was like to be a vampire so I showed him, he roams about somewhere or other, haven't seen him in a long time.

I sit on my throne surrounded by my own kind, I'm needy, I'm desperate for affection and I'm hungry, but most of all.

I am vampire.





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