Short, dark hair, gelled up int the middle into a fauxhawk, light eyes, relatively tall and not exactly scrawny. On first glance, Bryce Logan seemed like a relatively, if a tad shallow and directionless, average guy. Not invisible, not someone who's stand out in any crowd. But definitely someone who'd blow his money meant for school on booze if he had any of that.
And very much not a vampire.
Actually, it was only when Bryce smiled wide enough that his identity was visible. Two razorsharp teeth, only slightly longer than the rest and designed to consume blood. Something that had taken him some time to get used to.
His eyes were now closed and he was lying on the old, worn couch in his apartment, fast asleep. The navy blue, faded curtains were closed to prevent the sun from decorating his slightly pale skin with third to fourth degree burns. Bryce wasn't too fond of third to fourth degree burns.
Around the couch there was quite a number of empty bottles that had been filled with alcoholic beverages of various kinds until the night before, though some of them were probably already a couple of days older. Cleaning up after himself wasn't Bryce's forte. His carpet had all kinds of stains on them. Some only a bit darker than the mossgreen carpet itself, others almost black. It wasn't the kind of place you'd spend more time in than absolutely necessary, unless hygiene wasn't at the top of your priorities list.
At night, he'd go out, during day-time, he'd sleep, like was doing now. Combined with the fact that he fed on animal blood since he still identified too much with humans to feed on them, Bryce lived a relatively harmless lifestyle, if a lonesome one. He had his friends, human ones, guys he'd go out with, hang with, but it was mostly superficial. He knew a few other vampires, but never really had a connection with most of them. The younger ones usually didn't really agree with his lifestyle and still tried to live normal lives, the older ones had lost their humanity so long ago that Bryce could not even begin to understand the way they looked at humans. To them they were prey, food. To Bryce they were still the people he hung out with, friends even. Friends of the most superficial kind, but friends regardless.
A persistent, annoyingly high-pitched ringing woke him up, early in the evening. Bryce yawned, stretched and rolled off of the couch with a lazy groan. Staggering slightly, still not having fully recovered from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed the previous night, he walked over to the spot where the ringine seemed to be coming from; a pile of clothes, magazines and a lost blanket. It was his cellphone, but God, where was the damn thing?
He sighed and started to search lazily through the pile, finding clothes he didn't even remember he had in the process. Just before he found the phone, the ringing stopped. He picked the small device up and looked at the screen. One of the few vampires he spoke somewhat regularly had called. He stuffed the phone in his pocket. The guy would probably call back soon enough if it was of any importance.
He didn't, so Bryce kind of forgot about it. He decided to try and tackle the mess in his living room, but after having moved a few clothing items from one spot to another, he quit. It wasn't like he was going to fold that shit and put it nicely in a wardrobe.
He walked over to his fridge. As morbid as it sounded, he kept a bit of a stock whenever possible.
It was rather surprising, how easily he drank blood by now, since at first it had thoroughly grossed him out, despite the fact that essentially, it was not much different from eating the same animal's meat, if you thought about it, with wich he'd had no issue as a human.
He fed on what had the label 'pig' on it. There was an interesting black market for this kind of thing. With the severe lack of transparency in the meat industry, getting your hands on loads and loads of pig and cowblood wasn't all that hard. It hardly took more than a few bribes to make the right people look the other way, and it made good money.
After this light and somewhat disturbing snack, his cellphone rang again and he picked it up this time. It was the same guy again, Howard Cain.
“Sup?” Bryce asked, absentmindedly. He nudged a sweater lying on the floor with his foot and yawned unabashedly.
“Bryce! Are you alright?” the voice on the other end of the line said in a tense tone. He suddenly had Bryce's undivided attention. The young vampire frowned, worriedly.
“Woah, easy there dude, what's wrong?” He asked, confused. A nasty feeling grew in his stomach.
“They topped fucking Kael, that's what! How the hell'd you miss that?” Howard replied, agitated and nearly yelling the words.
Who was Kael again..? Wait.. Topped?
“You are joking, right?”
“I've seen his head. Seperated from his body.”
“You're not joking.” Bryce sat down on the couch and rubbed his temples, trying to comprehend what had just been shared with him.
“No, I'm not. And you and I could be next, Bryce.”
Bryce froze. What?
“Why? What do you mean? Calm down for a second man, and start from the top,” he said quickly, feeling suddenly very, very uncomfortable. He and Kael hardly knew eachother, how the hell was his death, tragic as it was, going to affect Bryce's life?
He heard Howard inhale deeply, trying to calm himself.
“Apparently, there's some vampire hunters active again. They somehow traced Kael and killed him. They left a message that they wouldn't leave it at that. It was signed with a cross.”
Bryce closed his eyes. Fuck. Vampire hunters. Splendid. Just fucking splendid. He muttered a curse.
“What?” Howard asked. Bryce shook his head, even though the young man on the other end couldn't see that.
“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly replied, impatiently. “So, now what? I mean, we're not gonna just sit here and wait 'till out heads roll as well, right?” he said, taking a deep breath. As all of this was slowly downing on him, he grew more and more disturbed. His life as a vampire had been a bit rough at first, but all in all, it had never really been something you'd expect from a monster. Not something you'd see in a fucking nightmare.
“You remember Beth Rackham?”
“More or less, yeah, why?” Bryce said, while trying to attach a face to that name.
“She and her husband, Will, say they want to try and form a front against these guys. They want us to meet them at their place. I have no idea how many of us are gonna show up, but something tells me this shit is going to be big. And not in a good way,” Howard explained.
“Alright, the Rackhams, as soon as possible. Shouldn't be too hard,” Bryce answered with a deep sigh.
“Aight, take care man,” Howard said quietly. Bryce smiled bitterly.
“Yeah.. You too..”
He hung up and tossed the phone aside on the couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, he put his head in hands and breathed in and out deeply. Shit.
He couldn't help but feel nauseous. He got up and started pacing restlessly up and down the living room. The idea of people being out there that only wanted his head to be seperated from the rest of his body was, to say the least, terrifying.
If Bryce had been the kind of vampire not above killing it probably would not have upset him this much, but as much as he liked acting tough, murder was something he'd never been this close to. Brawls, yes, he knew those well enough. A black eye, a bleeding nose, that kind of stuff. Things that would heal and hardly even leave a mark, not even a mental one. But this, downright murder. This was something entirely different.
He held still, tried to focus. If he was going to rush over to the Rackham's, he probably didn't need much.
It wasn't much later that he had packed a small backpack with the things he absolutely could not do without, such as blood packages, a few spare clothing items, his phone and his wallet. Even if he'd be away for a few days or end up on his own, it should suffice.
He left the house and held still, taking in a deep breath, trying to fight the dawning sense of despair.
He started walking, hastily and looking around as if the hunters could show up at any time. His heart pounded in his throat and more than ever he wished for a normal life. Without even really realizing it, he started running. He felt nauseous, sick even. With every step he took, the anxiety and fear grew. But there was no turning back and he wasn't going to just run away.
He crossed the dark, cold streets faster than he ever had. Through the centre, where almost all shops were closed and then through a few streets of luxurious mansions.
When he finally reached the outskirts of town, he was exhausted. Even a Vampire had his limits and running through almost an entire town, even when fuelled by adrenaline, was not exactly a walk in the park. He coughed and kept walking, in a slower pace now. The farm couldn't be far.
Every sound made him jump. Even a startled bird got him more nervous than he had gotten that bird. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
Were those footsteps? He looked over his shoulder, but all he heard was his own sped up breathing and he shook his head. He'd gotten paranoid.
The farm came in sight, broad and low, with a flat roof and a thin chimney. Dim light came from the window and it had never looked so welcoming. Bryce breathed a sigh of relief en started running again, down the street, up the porch and now every step closer made him feel closer to the closest thing to safety he was going to get tonight. Finally, he was at the door on which he knocked hastily. His own heavy breathing was the only sound he heard besides his knocks. His hands were shaking and every second with his unprotected back turned towards the open fields behind him was one too many. He heard the sound of a key being turned in a lock and Howard opened the door.
“Beat you to it,” he said with a faint smile. Bryce grinned briefly, then brushed past the guy. Inside, he hung up his coat and immediately walked into the cosy-looking living room.
On a old, dark, leather couch said a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties. Her thick, braided hair was a rare, white blonde and her eyes, highlighted by a subtle eyeliner, were even brighter than Bryce's. Yet they still had a warm expression, even though Beth's expression was now one of worry.
She stood up and walked over to Bryce across a beige, dark red and green carpet.
“Glad you could make it,” she said brusquely. Howard appeared behind Bryce, who quickly looked over his shoulder.
“Easy, Bryce, I understand your nervousness, but you're safe here.”
Bryce looked at her.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked straight away.
“Will's done some witchcraft. They should not be able to track us down that easily,” Beth said. Bryce nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. Some invisible abracadabra was going to stop those guys? Really?
He bit his lower lip and looked around. A door on the other side of the living room opened and a man roughly the same age as Beth entered. He was bald and his skin was quite a few shades darker than Beths and his nearly black eyes were the complete opposite of hers. His smile, however, was just as warm as hers and he too walked over to Bryce.
“Welcome, Bryce, our house is your house,” he said, giving the young vampire a firm slap on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Will,” Bryce said and he smiled, feeling a little better for a moment.
“Have a seat boy,” Beth said and Bryce sat himself down on a comfortable looking mossgreen chair with wooden, richly engraved armrests. He slumped and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself.
“Who else are you expecting?” Howard asked Beth, as both vampires sat down on the leather couch.
“Regina Neumann, though I expect her to be on the late side, the Oxfords, along with their kids...”
If it hadn't been for the fact that Bryce had been told once the Oxfords had adopted several very young vampires, he would probably been just as confused as Howard seemed now.
“...the Queenslands, Jodie McOak, Bertrand Williams and I hope Karl Slate can make it,” Beth finished. Bryce nodded. Quite a list of people.
Slowly, he started to feel more at ease. It was not much later that, speak of the devil, the last on the list arrived.
“Bryce, this is Karl. Karl, Bryce, I don't think the two of you have met before,” Beth said and the two vampires shook hands.
Karl was a relatively short but incredibly buff man wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, old boots and a plaid jacket that had clearly seen better times. There was some dark stubble on his chin and his hair was on the thin side.
“Nice to meet you,” he said in a rather heavy voice. When he smiled, Bryce couldn't help but notice the one missing fang in the corner of the man's mouth.
“Likewise,” he said.
“Always good to see new faces,” Karl said, roughly giving Bryce a pat on the shoulder.
Soon, the Queenslands arrived as well. Them Bryce had met before, if only once. They were both of Latin-American descent and kept their hair short. As Tim Queensland had once told Bryce; They want you dead. Rather yesterday than today. Give 'em nothing extra to grab onto.
Apparently, they were quite the notorious pair for having ruthlessly killed nearly every hunter that came after them.
Bryce wasn't going to lie; he was glad to have such people around. He hoped it would not get that far, but if it would, capable people would defnitely come in handy.
It was allready a few hours of talking, drinking and discussing strategies – wich all ended in 'let's just see what happens and fuck their shit up', since there was more angry bravado than actual tactical talent in the room – when an extremely skinny, elderly woman arrived. Her long grey hair was tied up in an elegant bun and she was dressed rather formally. Jodie McOak. She had a certain kind of authority about her, despite being several heads shorter than Bryce.
“So, what's the plan?” she asked, as she sat down on the couch as well. Will was busy dragging some chairs from the dining table to the living room, so that there would still be enough room if more were to arrive.
“We don't really have one,” he said calmly and he send the small woman a bitter smile. “I've used a handful of spells to protect this place, but that's all we could do when it came to precautions. We don't know how many of them there are, we don't know with what they'll be armed. All we know is that it's gonna be them or us, eventually.”
He sat down on one of the chairs and stretched his arms in front of him. It was right after that that something hit the window with a loud bump. Bryce jumped up, startled and looked at the rest. Will and Karl both slowly rose to their feet.
“What was that?” Howard asked quickly.
“Everybody, stay calm,” Will said, but his voice betrayed that not even he was going to be able to stick to that advice. Bryce's heart was pounding in his throat. Was this it?
Beth left the room and next thing they heard her footsteps up the stairs. The tension hung thick in the room as they waited.
When she came back, her face was ashen. Bryce wasn't sure he wanted to know what she'd seen.
“Bertrand is not going to make it inside,” she said with a quavering voice. Her insanely bright eyes shimmered. Will immediately walked over to her and wrapped and arm around her shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
“What they threw against the window.. It was him...” She fell silent and Bryce felt the blood drain from his face.
“It was his head.”
In the dead silence that followed, they heard cheers come from outside. But those cheers hardly scared Bryce as much as the expressions on the faces of the Queenslands. At once the young vampire understood their notority. They meant business. This action was an invitation to them, and they wouldn't be late to the party.
“That's it,” Karl said, his voice even lower than before and his face grim. His lips formed a tight line and his eyes were ablaze.
“Their heads are going to roll next. Will, what have you got?”
“Two shotguns, a shovel, an axe, a chainsaw and some kitchen knives, I'm afraid that's all. The rest of you?”
Bryce looked around. He swallowed nervously when Tim Queensland reached behind his back and pulled out a shiny, silvercoated pistol.
“Not quite a machinegun, but I'll be sure to send a few of them to their graves,” he said grimly and he grinned in a way that sent chills down Bryce' spine.
Karl too drew a gun, a simple black one.
“It's quite powerful,” he said with mock modesty.
“Alright,” Will said shortly. “I'll handle the chainsaw. She's a bit of a difficult one to handle if you don't know her. Howard, you and Beth take the shotguns. Jodie, you show them how you wield an axe.”
It wasn't much later that they were fully equipped. Beth and Howard had disappeared upstairs.
The voices outside rose in volume. Bryce felt a shiver go down his spine. Will had handed him the shovel and gave him a pat on the back.
“It'll be fine boy,” he said, but Bryce wasn't stupid. A guy's severed head had been thrown against the window. Couldn't they use the fucking doorbell? He looked at the shovel in his hand. Yeah, that was going to be a weapon of mass destruction. Not that he was so hellbent on performing acts of mass destruction, but he did not feel particularly safe with this piece of garden equipment as his primary weapon.
A bang. Shattering glas and curtains waving wildy. A brick lay still in the middle of the room, surrounded by pieces of glass and it had nearly hit Karl, who looked at it for a brief moment, after wich his squinted eyes shifted to the now broken window, through wich a stream of chilly night air entered the room. Bryce didn't need that cold to have shivers running down his spine. The shouting outside had become more provocative. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Nobody ever told him that this was the kind of things you had to deal with as a vampire, aside form the slightly odd diet and lack of vitamin D, obtained from that fire ball up in the sky.
An extremely loud bang disrupted the cheering from outside. It came from upstairs. Screaming. Somebody outside had been hit. Another bang.
Will laughed grimly.
“That's my girl!” he said. If it hadn't been for the fact that Beth was the only girl of Will's that could fire bullets from a gun, Bryce would not have been sure wether the man was referring to her or his beloved chainsaw, wich he was holding in a way that could only mean that he was ready to battle, like most in the room. For a moment, Bryce wondered if they were hardly any better than the guys outside, but he roughly pushed that thought away. Those hunters had just cut off somebody's head. Will and the others hadn't. Well, not yet at least.
“That's it, I'm going out,” Tim Queensland said, clicking the safety pin off of his weapon. His wife, who somehow seemed to have gotten a hold on several oversized kitchen knives, immediately rose up, ready to follow her husband into battle.
Bryce felt really silly with his shovel. And he certainly did not feel like bashing in people's skulls, allthough the collective rage and indignance did have effect on him. He too felt indignant. How dare they just attack them, unprovoked and without warning?
Karl followed the couple towards the garage.
“Wait!” Will snapped.
“What?”
“Guns go upstairs. You got the advantage of long range. Use it.”
Karl and Tim nodded, and they went upstairs.
Tim's wife looked questioningly at Jody, who tightened her grip on the axe she was wielding, and the two women proceeded towards the garage.
Bryce felt a little sick.
“Don't worry, Bryce. They'll do just fine. Jody gives a whole new meaning to the Axe effect,” Will said grimly.
Bryce didn't laugh. Orange-yellow light shone dimly through the curtains. Will turned off the lights and opened the curtains, so at least then would not be like neonlights in a very tastefully furnitured desert.
“They set fire to the fucking truck,” Will whispered incredulously. And he too made it for the garage. Bryce followed, without much hesitation. He didn't want to, but staying behind was no option. Hell, if it had been up to him, this entire fight would never have happened. This kind of stuff was all cool in the movies, but this was real. People were going to die here, or at least get seriously hurt, if not maimed permanently. It was not an if. It was a when. And a who.
The garagedoor was allready open. Bryce eyes widened in shock. From here, the flames coming from the burning truck seemed to go up even higher and he could barely distinguish anything else in the darkness because of it.
The first thing he did see however, happened simlutaneously with Will turning on the chainsaw and as it roared, even louder than the fire that warmly lit up their shocked faces, Bryce saw the outcome of a confrontation between Mrs. Queensland and a large, bearded hunter.
He watched, involuntarily, as her head rolled off of her shoulders, after the machete had seperated it from her body, her facial expression still one of disbelief, and her body slumped, falling to the ground in a bleeding, messy heap. It was forever engraved in Bryce's memory.
His throat was dry and he felt unable to move a muscle. For seconds, he and the machete-wielding hunter who had commited this gruesome deed, looked eachother in the eye. The man grinning insanely, his eyes shimmering in the light of the fire, Bryce wide-eyed, horrified, realising that what he thought was violence was nothing. Not compared to the monstrosities these men were capable of.
Bryce lips formed a 'no' that was mercylessly muted by the fire, by the roaring chainsaw, the screams, the cheers.
The man started moving towards him, but was intercepted by no one less than Tim Queensland, who seemed gripped by a rage Bryce could probably not possibly ever comprehend. The man resolutely yanked the chainsaw from Will's hands and the dark-skinned vampire did not even flinch.
Shots were fired, screams filled the night. Screams, so heartwrenching that they became etched in Bryce's ears.
He looked away, half-paralyzed by what was happening around him, but even the sounds taught him more than he needed to know. He cringed as the chainsaw was audibly going through something. Something that screamed, louder than the roaring of the chainsaw.
“Fuck!” Bryce blurted out. “Fuck..”
He gagged and looked at his shovel. He gagged again. With the disgusting taste of bile in his mouth he looked up again.
Then suddenly, Will threw himself against Bryce, roughly bashing him aside, after wich Bryce smacked into the thick mud. Hastily he got up, just in time to see Will stagger backwards, desperately trying to ward off another vampire hunter, a woman, who had already managed to make Will's chest bleed quite badly.
An injury that was meant for Bryce. For a moment, he looked at the blood stain in horror.
He took a deep breath and dashed forward, lashing out with his spade and hitting the woman in the back with the spade's blade. She screamed as the metal cut into her skin. Bryce pulled the shovel back, looking with absolute horror at what he had done. Blood slowly darkened her clothes.
She then swore fiercely and took a swing at him with her machete. The blade nearly cut his throat and he staggered backwards, feeling the heat of the burning car behind him, knowing that the next swing would kill him. It would end him the same way it did Mrs. Queensland. He looked at the woman. Her face was grim and her eyes bore into his, in wich she undoubtedly saw the fear. Bryce felt like a coward. He tightened his grip on the shovel, ready to try and ward her off, while she seemed to be waiting for a good opening. Then she attacked, quickly and Bryce was barely able to lift the shovel in time. The machete nearly cut through the entire thing. Bryce broke it in two and tossed the shovel-less end away, recklessly hacking at the woman with the other end, allthough it was blatantly obvious that he lacked the will to actually hurt and kill her.
Were the sirens their rescue? To Bryce they probably were. The woman looked up, startled and again she swore. She bared her teeth at Bryce and then ran.
Judging from his expression, to Tim Queensland, these sirens, coming closer at a high speed, merely signalled a break. For him this was not over. Not until every last one of these guys was dead. Panick spread quickly as vampire hunters sprinted one way, into the fields, and the vampires themselves, under Will's lead, retreated into the forest, where, while running, Beth, Howard and Karl quickly caught up with them. Nobody spoke. They just ran like hell. Their quick footsteps and heavy breathing were pretty much all that was heard.
In the distance, an explosion indicated that the car's fuel tank had reached it's flashpoint. Bryce didn't dare to look back. He had left the shovel behind.
He had lost all track of time. They just ran, and ran and only Beth and Will seemed to know where they were going. The rest merely followed, trying to keep up.
They went deeper and deeper into the forest and the vegetation only grew more and more dense, to the point where it wasn't so much running but more like climbing what they did.
Bryce nearly tripped when he tried to rush through particularly spikey undergrowth, with cut through his muddy jeans and scratches his shins. He sped up, making sure he didn't lose the others.
And finally, after what felt like hours, and whith Bryce sides stinging painfully, they came to a halt near a small cottage, heavily affected by time. They stopped. Bryce looked at the small building, built up from rough rocks and roofed with dark tiles from wich several had already gone missing.
“Come on,” Will said flatly, and he unlocked the door with a dry click. Bryce timidly followed them in.
Inside, all Will did was then light one single candle. It was enough. They didn't need it for it's light, being the creatures of the night they were. But there was more to that candle. Tim looked at it, with hardly any emotion on his face. His hands trembled. The bravado he had displayed before the battle was gone. Together with his spirit. And his wife.
Karl patted him on the back.
“So sorry, man,” he said softly. Tim didn't respond. Bryce wished there was anything he could say. If he had fought along, would he have a made a difference? The image of the shovel stuck in the woman's back flashed before his eyes and he look away, even though it was but a memory.
He and Will had stayed inside not much longer than the rest. Would it have made a difference if they had charged together? Would it?
For a long time, nobody said a single word. Bryce's gaze went through the small cottage. The candle spread a soft, warm and flickering light that highlighted every bit of old, worn furniture, from the clock that no longer ticked to the old sofa that still had a newspaper on it. As if time had stood still here alltogether. If only it could go back as well.
“You need to get that looked at, Will,” Beth said, her voice unsteady, nodding at the wound on his chest.
“It's worse than it looks,” the man replied shortly.
“Don't we have to keep moving?” Karl prompted softly. Will shook his head silently.
Bryce wanted to sit down. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was exhausted. Even for a vampire this was a lot. But he didn't move. For one, everything here seemed so untouched that it felt wrong to disrupt that. And somehow it felt respectless as well. So soon after all of this.
The rest of the night, the police did not show up. Nor did they throughout the following day, through wich Bryce hardly slept, despite the exhaustion. The thing he'd seen haunted his mind relentlessly.
Tim didn't seem to be very much in the mood of sleeping either. The darkhaired man just sat there, in one of the old, dusty chairs, staring at the floor, uncapable of expressing the enormous grief that had to be inside of him.
Bryce followed his gaze. How? How could one just murder someone else like that? He knew it was nothing new. You read about it in the newspapers all the time. Yet seeing it with your own eyes was something entirely different. And how brutal it had been...
Time and time again he tried to get it all out of his mind, but to no avail.
Nobody had taught him about this.
Nothing could have prepared him for this.
Nothing could have absorbed the shock that was still going through his tattoo-covered body.
And nothing, nothing could ever erase the memories nor heal the mental wounds this had created.
For the first time in his life, Bryce had seen reality. More grim and dark than any vampire movie could ever have portrayed it. Some vampires seemed stuck in the idea that they were the hunters and humans their docile, replaceable prey. Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. They were the prey, hunted down and slaughtered unless they managed to fight back. They were a minority. They were scary, evil monsters that needed to be slain without remorse. Because if they were gone, they could no longer pose a threat.
And did they even know him?
They didn't.
How could they have known him?
And yet they had marked him an enemy, along with all the others. Like cattle. Just one of the herd. And he understood the fear, he truly did. How could he not?
But he simply never thought generalisation could be such a dreadful thing.
And did they even consider sparing him?
They didn't.
Why would they even spare him?
He was a vampire. He was evil and all that was wrong with the world.
If it had not been for the police, he would have been in the same place as Mrs. Queensland was now. His head would be seperated from his body. He would be laying there, in the mud, while the rest ran for their lives. He would probably be ragdolled away as the car's fuel tank exploded and his charred body would be disposed of.
Because he was a vampire. And all that was wrong with the world.
And would they regret what they had done?
Naturally, they wouldn't.
Again, he had no concept of time. The windows were carefully blocked. It wasn't until Will entered the room to say they would leave in a bit, that Bryce had any idea the evening had fallen allready.
“Everyone ready to go?” Will asked, lacking every kind of enthusiasm. The warmth with which he had greeted Bryce earlier on was gone as well. His expression was tired and hard.
A few nods and yesses arose from the small group of people, each alone in their thoughts.
Except from Tim. Tim said nothing. He just sat there. Elbows resting on his legs, head cradled in his hands. Motionless as stone. Again, Bryce wished there was something, anything, he could say to ease the pain.
“Tim?” Beth asked carefully, her face concerned. She exchanged a quick glance with Will.
Tim looked up, staring blankly at her.
“I'm not coming,” he answered hoarsely. Beth froze.
“Why not, dear?” Jodie asked, putting a meager hand on his knee and looking at him inquisitively.
“I don't want to. I'll stay here for one more night,” Tim replied with a light, barely noticable shrug.
Bryce frowned, not sure what to make of those words, but they gave him an uncomfortable feeling he could not entirely place. A feeling that he was not going to like this. He looked at the man, whose face still taught him nothing. The tension hung thick in stale air.
“And then?” Will asked sharply and Tim looked up. Now his dark eyes shimmered and his face was distorted by grief. His mask had finally fallen.
“I'm going after them. Let 'em know I'm coming for 'em. And finish every last one of them,” he said fiercely, clenching his fists.
Bryce bit his lower lip and looked away.
“And if they don't get me.. Then I'll watch the sun rise one last time,” he added softly. Jodie gasped and pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Tim, dear,” Beth tried, but the Latin-American man shook his head.
“This is why I didn't want to tell you guys.. You know me, when I make up my mind..” he said with a shrug that might have aimed at carelessness, but fooled no-one.
Will swallowed and smiled bitterly.
“If that is truly what you want, Tim, then so be it,” he said reluctantly. Beth rose to her feet.
“Will!”
“It's his choice Beth..”
“But-”
“Beth,” Tim interrupted her. He too stood up and put his hands on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. But for me it ends here,” he said. Beth shook her head in disbelief.
“Tim this is insane. I understand the loss is a lot to handle, but you can't just..” she made a powerless handgesture. She shook her head, visibly trying to find the words to stop Tim.
“She was everything. I've made my decision.” Tim's voice got a sharp end to it. Bryce looked from one to the other, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it in the last moment. What could he even say?
He swallowed. Was Tim serious? Was he really just going to end it? Just like that? One last sunrise. To a vampire, that shit sounded horrifying.
Will was the most calm.
“So be it.”
Bryce looked at him, his mouth hanging open.
“You are just going to agree to a suicide?” he asked incredulously.
“This doesn't concern you,” Tim said brusquely. Bryce didn't respond.
And so they left. The silence continued and Tim stayed behind, preparing himself for the vengeance he was going to exact.
A few times, Bryce looked over his shoulder until the cottage was nowhere in sight anymore. He sighed and started walking beside Karl.
For hours on end, they walked through the forest, under the millions of stars in the calm sky.
Bryce shoved his hands in his pockets and just kept his eyes on the uneven terrain below his feet, with was a mixture of grassy patches, spikey undergrowth, icecold mud and tricky rocks. He sunk away into his thoughts, as a result of the painful, heavily loaded silence, until Karl spoke, finally.
“You okay, son?” he asked. Bryce sought for the right words.
“Is this.. how it always goes?” he asked, feeling more insecure than ever. Was this the reality of being a vampire? Would this be what he'd deal with the rest of his life until he would become as suicidal as Tim?
Karl smiled bitterly and put a heavy hand on Bryce' shoulder.
“Welcome to the real world boy,” he said. “Welcome to the real world.”
The End.
And very much not a vampire.
Actually, it was only when Bryce smiled wide enough that his identity was visible. Two razorsharp teeth, only slightly longer than the rest and designed to consume blood. Something that had taken him some time to get used to.
His eyes were now closed and he was lying on the old, worn couch in his apartment, fast asleep. The navy blue, faded curtains were closed to prevent the sun from decorating his slightly pale skin with third to fourth degree burns. Bryce wasn't too fond of third to fourth degree burns.
Around the couch there was quite a number of empty bottles that had been filled with alcoholic beverages of various kinds until the night before, though some of them were probably already a couple of days older. Cleaning up after himself wasn't Bryce's forte. His carpet had all kinds of stains on them. Some only a bit darker than the mossgreen carpet itself, others almost black. It wasn't the kind of place you'd spend more time in than absolutely necessary, unless hygiene wasn't at the top of your priorities list.
At night, he'd go out, during day-time, he'd sleep, like was doing now. Combined with the fact that he fed on animal blood since he still identified too much with humans to feed on them, Bryce lived a relatively harmless lifestyle, if a lonesome one. He had his friends, human ones, guys he'd go out with, hang with, but it was mostly superficial. He knew a few other vampires, but never really had a connection with most of them. The younger ones usually didn't really agree with his lifestyle and still tried to live normal lives, the older ones had lost their humanity so long ago that Bryce could not even begin to understand the way they looked at humans. To them they were prey, food. To Bryce they were still the people he hung out with, friends even. Friends of the most superficial kind, but friends regardless.
A persistent, annoyingly high-pitched ringing woke him up, early in the evening. Bryce yawned, stretched and rolled off of the couch with a lazy groan. Staggering slightly, still not having fully recovered from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed the previous night, he walked over to the spot where the ringine seemed to be coming from; a pile of clothes, magazines and a lost blanket. It was his cellphone, but God, where was the damn thing?
He sighed and started to search lazily through the pile, finding clothes he didn't even remember he had in the process. Just before he found the phone, the ringing stopped. He picked the small device up and looked at the screen. One of the few vampires he spoke somewhat regularly had called. He stuffed the phone in his pocket. The guy would probably call back soon enough if it was of any importance.
He didn't, so Bryce kind of forgot about it. He decided to try and tackle the mess in his living room, but after having moved a few clothing items from one spot to another, he quit. It wasn't like he was going to fold that shit and put it nicely in a wardrobe.
He walked over to his fridge. As morbid as it sounded, he kept a bit of a stock whenever possible.
It was rather surprising, how easily he drank blood by now, since at first it had thoroughly grossed him out, despite the fact that essentially, it was not much different from eating the same animal's meat, if you thought about it, with wich he'd had no issue as a human.
He fed on what had the label 'pig' on it. There was an interesting black market for this kind of thing. With the severe lack of transparency in the meat industry, getting your hands on loads and loads of pig and cowblood wasn't all that hard. It hardly took more than a few bribes to make the right people look the other way, and it made good money.
After this light and somewhat disturbing snack, his cellphone rang again and he picked it up this time. It was the same guy again, Howard Cain.
“Sup?” Bryce asked, absentmindedly. He nudged a sweater lying on the floor with his foot and yawned unabashedly.
“Bryce! Are you alright?” the voice on the other end of the line said in a tense tone. He suddenly had Bryce's undivided attention. The young vampire frowned, worriedly.
“Woah, easy there dude, what's wrong?” He asked, confused. A nasty feeling grew in his stomach.
“They topped fucking Kael, that's what! How the hell'd you miss that?” Howard replied, agitated and nearly yelling the words.
Who was Kael again..? Wait.. Topped?
“You are joking, right?”
“I've seen his head. Seperated from his body.”
“You're not joking.” Bryce sat down on the couch and rubbed his temples, trying to comprehend what had just been shared with him.
“No, I'm not. And you and I could be next, Bryce.”
Bryce froze. What?
“Why? What do you mean? Calm down for a second man, and start from the top,” he said quickly, feeling suddenly very, very uncomfortable. He and Kael hardly knew eachother, how the hell was his death, tragic as it was, going to affect Bryce's life?
He heard Howard inhale deeply, trying to calm himself.
“Apparently, there's some vampire hunters active again. They somehow traced Kael and killed him. They left a message that they wouldn't leave it at that. It was signed with a cross.”
Bryce closed his eyes. Fuck. Vampire hunters. Splendid. Just fucking splendid. He muttered a curse.
“What?” Howard asked. Bryce shook his head, even though the young man on the other end couldn't see that.
“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly replied, impatiently. “So, now what? I mean, we're not gonna just sit here and wait 'till out heads roll as well, right?” he said, taking a deep breath. As all of this was slowly downing on him, he grew more and more disturbed. His life as a vampire had been a bit rough at first, but all in all, it had never really been something you'd expect from a monster. Not something you'd see in a fucking nightmare.
“You remember Beth Rackham?”
“More or less, yeah, why?” Bryce said, while trying to attach a face to that name.
“She and her husband, Will, say they want to try and form a front against these guys. They want us to meet them at their place. I have no idea how many of us are gonna show up, but something tells me this shit is going to be big. And not in a good way,” Howard explained.
“Alright, the Rackhams, as soon as possible. Shouldn't be too hard,” Bryce answered with a deep sigh.
“Aight, take care man,” Howard said quietly. Bryce smiled bitterly.
“Yeah.. You too..”
He hung up and tossed the phone aside on the couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, he put his head in hands and breathed in and out deeply. Shit.
He couldn't help but feel nauseous. He got up and started pacing restlessly up and down the living room. The idea of people being out there that only wanted his head to be seperated from the rest of his body was, to say the least, terrifying.
If Bryce had been the kind of vampire not above killing it probably would not have upset him this much, but as much as he liked acting tough, murder was something he'd never been this close to. Brawls, yes, he knew those well enough. A black eye, a bleeding nose, that kind of stuff. Things that would heal and hardly even leave a mark, not even a mental one. But this, downright murder. This was something entirely different.
He held still, tried to focus. If he was going to rush over to the Rackham's, he probably didn't need much.
It wasn't much later that he had packed a small backpack with the things he absolutely could not do without, such as blood packages, a few spare clothing items, his phone and his wallet. Even if he'd be away for a few days or end up on his own, it should suffice.
He left the house and held still, taking in a deep breath, trying to fight the dawning sense of despair.
He started walking, hastily and looking around as if the hunters could show up at any time. His heart pounded in his throat and more than ever he wished for a normal life. Without even really realizing it, he started running. He felt nauseous, sick even. With every step he took, the anxiety and fear grew. But there was no turning back and he wasn't going to just run away.
He crossed the dark, cold streets faster than he ever had. Through the centre, where almost all shops were closed and then through a few streets of luxurious mansions.
When he finally reached the outskirts of town, he was exhausted. Even a Vampire had his limits and running through almost an entire town, even when fuelled by adrenaline, was not exactly a walk in the park. He coughed and kept walking, in a slower pace now. The farm couldn't be far.
Every sound made him jump. Even a startled bird got him more nervous than he had gotten that bird. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
Were those footsteps? He looked over his shoulder, but all he heard was his own sped up breathing and he shook his head. He'd gotten paranoid.
The farm came in sight, broad and low, with a flat roof and a thin chimney. Dim light came from the window and it had never looked so welcoming. Bryce breathed a sigh of relief en started running again, down the street, up the porch and now every step closer made him feel closer to the closest thing to safety he was going to get tonight. Finally, he was at the door on which he knocked hastily. His own heavy breathing was the only sound he heard besides his knocks. His hands were shaking and every second with his unprotected back turned towards the open fields behind him was one too many. He heard the sound of a key being turned in a lock and Howard opened the door.
“Beat you to it,” he said with a faint smile. Bryce grinned briefly, then brushed past the guy. Inside, he hung up his coat and immediately walked into the cosy-looking living room.
On a old, dark, leather couch said a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties. Her thick, braided hair was a rare, white blonde and her eyes, highlighted by a subtle eyeliner, were even brighter than Bryce's. Yet they still had a warm expression, even though Beth's expression was now one of worry.
She stood up and walked over to Bryce across a beige, dark red and green carpet.
“Glad you could make it,” she said brusquely. Howard appeared behind Bryce, who quickly looked over his shoulder.
“Easy, Bryce, I understand your nervousness, but you're safe here.”
Bryce looked at her.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked straight away.
“Will's done some witchcraft. They should not be able to track us down that easily,” Beth said. Bryce nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. Some invisible abracadabra was going to stop those guys? Really?
He bit his lower lip and looked around. A door on the other side of the living room opened and a man roughly the same age as Beth entered. He was bald and his skin was quite a few shades darker than Beths and his nearly black eyes were the complete opposite of hers. His smile, however, was just as warm as hers and he too walked over to Bryce.
“Welcome, Bryce, our house is your house,” he said, giving the young vampire a firm slap on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Will,” Bryce said and he smiled, feeling a little better for a moment.
“Have a seat boy,” Beth said and Bryce sat himself down on a comfortable looking mossgreen chair with wooden, richly engraved armrests. He slumped and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself.
“Who else are you expecting?” Howard asked Beth, as both vampires sat down on the leather couch.
“Regina Neumann, though I expect her to be on the late side, the Oxfords, along with their kids...”
If it hadn't been for the fact that Bryce had been told once the Oxfords had adopted several very young vampires, he would probably been just as confused as Howard seemed now.
“...the Queenslands, Jodie McOak, Bertrand Williams and I hope Karl Slate can make it,” Beth finished. Bryce nodded. Quite a list of people.
Slowly, he started to feel more at ease. It was not much later that, speak of the devil, the last on the list arrived.
“Bryce, this is Karl. Karl, Bryce, I don't think the two of you have met before,” Beth said and the two vampires shook hands.
Karl was a relatively short but incredibly buff man wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, old boots and a plaid jacket that had clearly seen better times. There was some dark stubble on his chin and his hair was on the thin side.
“Nice to meet you,” he said in a rather heavy voice. When he smiled, Bryce couldn't help but notice the one missing fang in the corner of the man's mouth.
“Likewise,” he said.
“Always good to see new faces,” Karl said, roughly giving Bryce a pat on the shoulder.
Soon, the Queenslands arrived as well. Them Bryce had met before, if only once. They were both of Latin-American descent and kept their hair short. As Tim Queensland had once told Bryce; They want you dead. Rather yesterday than today. Give 'em nothing extra to grab onto.
Apparently, they were quite the notorious pair for having ruthlessly killed nearly every hunter that came after them.
Bryce wasn't going to lie; he was glad to have such people around. He hoped it would not get that far, but if it would, capable people would defnitely come in handy.
It was allready a few hours of talking, drinking and discussing strategies – wich all ended in 'let's just see what happens and fuck their shit up', since there was more angry bravado than actual tactical talent in the room – when an extremely skinny, elderly woman arrived. Her long grey hair was tied up in an elegant bun and she was dressed rather formally. Jodie McOak. She had a certain kind of authority about her, despite being several heads shorter than Bryce.
“So, what's the plan?” she asked, as she sat down on the couch as well. Will was busy dragging some chairs from the dining table to the living room, so that there would still be enough room if more were to arrive.
“We don't really have one,” he said calmly and he send the small woman a bitter smile. “I've used a handful of spells to protect this place, but that's all we could do when it came to precautions. We don't know how many of them there are, we don't know with what they'll be armed. All we know is that it's gonna be them or us, eventually.”
He sat down on one of the chairs and stretched his arms in front of him. It was right after that that something hit the window with a loud bump. Bryce jumped up, startled and looked at the rest. Will and Karl both slowly rose to their feet.
“What was that?” Howard asked quickly.
“Everybody, stay calm,” Will said, but his voice betrayed that not even he was going to be able to stick to that advice. Bryce's heart was pounding in his throat. Was this it?
Beth left the room and next thing they heard her footsteps up the stairs. The tension hung thick in the room as they waited.
When she came back, her face was ashen. Bryce wasn't sure he wanted to know what she'd seen.
“Bertrand is not going to make it inside,” she said with a quavering voice. Her insanely bright eyes shimmered. Will immediately walked over to her and wrapped and arm around her shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
“What they threw against the window.. It was him...” She fell silent and Bryce felt the blood drain from his face.
“It was his head.”
In the dead silence that followed, they heard cheers come from outside. But those cheers hardly scared Bryce as much as the expressions on the faces of the Queenslands. At once the young vampire understood their notority. They meant business. This action was an invitation to them, and they wouldn't be late to the party.
“That's it,” Karl said, his voice even lower than before and his face grim. His lips formed a tight line and his eyes were ablaze.
“Their heads are going to roll next. Will, what have you got?”
“Two shotguns, a shovel, an axe, a chainsaw and some kitchen knives, I'm afraid that's all. The rest of you?”
Bryce looked around. He swallowed nervously when Tim Queensland reached behind his back and pulled out a shiny, silvercoated pistol.
“Not quite a machinegun, but I'll be sure to send a few of them to their graves,” he said grimly and he grinned in a way that sent chills down Bryce' spine.
Karl too drew a gun, a simple black one.
“It's quite powerful,” he said with mock modesty.
“Alright,” Will said shortly. “I'll handle the chainsaw. She's a bit of a difficult one to handle if you don't know her. Howard, you and Beth take the shotguns. Jodie, you show them how you wield an axe.”
It wasn't much later that they were fully equipped. Beth and Howard had disappeared upstairs.
The voices outside rose in volume. Bryce felt a shiver go down his spine. Will had handed him the shovel and gave him a pat on the back.
“It'll be fine boy,” he said, but Bryce wasn't stupid. A guy's severed head had been thrown against the window. Couldn't they use the fucking doorbell? He looked at the shovel in his hand. Yeah, that was going to be a weapon of mass destruction. Not that he was so hellbent on performing acts of mass destruction, but he did not feel particularly safe with this piece of garden equipment as his primary weapon.
A bang. Shattering glas and curtains waving wildy. A brick lay still in the middle of the room, surrounded by pieces of glass and it had nearly hit Karl, who looked at it for a brief moment, after wich his squinted eyes shifted to the now broken window, through wich a stream of chilly night air entered the room. Bryce didn't need that cold to have shivers running down his spine. The shouting outside had become more provocative. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Nobody ever told him that this was the kind of things you had to deal with as a vampire, aside form the slightly odd diet and lack of vitamin D, obtained from that fire ball up in the sky.
An extremely loud bang disrupted the cheering from outside. It came from upstairs. Screaming. Somebody outside had been hit. Another bang.
Will laughed grimly.
“That's my girl!” he said. If it hadn't been for the fact that Beth was the only girl of Will's that could fire bullets from a gun, Bryce would not have been sure wether the man was referring to her or his beloved chainsaw, wich he was holding in a way that could only mean that he was ready to battle, like most in the room. For a moment, Bryce wondered if they were hardly any better than the guys outside, but he roughly pushed that thought away. Those hunters had just cut off somebody's head. Will and the others hadn't. Well, not yet at least.
“That's it, I'm going out,” Tim Queensland said, clicking the safety pin off of his weapon. His wife, who somehow seemed to have gotten a hold on several oversized kitchen knives, immediately rose up, ready to follow her husband into battle.
Bryce felt really silly with his shovel. And he certainly did not feel like bashing in people's skulls, allthough the collective rage and indignance did have effect on him. He too felt indignant. How dare they just attack them, unprovoked and without warning?
Karl followed the couple towards the garage.
“Wait!” Will snapped.
“What?”
“Guns go upstairs. You got the advantage of long range. Use it.”
Karl and Tim nodded, and they went upstairs.
Tim's wife looked questioningly at Jody, who tightened her grip on the axe she was wielding, and the two women proceeded towards the garage.
Bryce felt a little sick.
“Don't worry, Bryce. They'll do just fine. Jody gives a whole new meaning to the Axe effect,” Will said grimly.
Bryce didn't laugh. Orange-yellow light shone dimly through the curtains. Will turned off the lights and opened the curtains, so at least then would not be like neonlights in a very tastefully furnitured desert.
“They set fire to the fucking truck,” Will whispered incredulously. And he too made it for the garage. Bryce followed, without much hesitation. He didn't want to, but staying behind was no option. Hell, if it had been up to him, this entire fight would never have happened. This kind of stuff was all cool in the movies, but this was real. People were going to die here, or at least get seriously hurt, if not maimed permanently. It was not an if. It was a when. And a who.
The garagedoor was allready open. Bryce eyes widened in shock. From here, the flames coming from the burning truck seemed to go up even higher and he could barely distinguish anything else in the darkness because of it.
The first thing he did see however, happened simlutaneously with Will turning on the chainsaw and as it roared, even louder than the fire that warmly lit up their shocked faces, Bryce saw the outcome of a confrontation between Mrs. Queensland and a large, bearded hunter.
He watched, involuntarily, as her head rolled off of her shoulders, after the machete had seperated it from her body, her facial expression still one of disbelief, and her body slumped, falling to the ground in a bleeding, messy heap. It was forever engraved in Bryce's memory.
His throat was dry and he felt unable to move a muscle. For seconds, he and the machete-wielding hunter who had commited this gruesome deed, looked eachother in the eye. The man grinning insanely, his eyes shimmering in the light of the fire, Bryce wide-eyed, horrified, realising that what he thought was violence was nothing. Not compared to the monstrosities these men were capable of.
Bryce lips formed a 'no' that was mercylessly muted by the fire, by the roaring chainsaw, the screams, the cheers.
The man started moving towards him, but was intercepted by no one less than Tim Queensland, who seemed gripped by a rage Bryce could probably not possibly ever comprehend. The man resolutely yanked the chainsaw from Will's hands and the dark-skinned vampire did not even flinch.
Shots were fired, screams filled the night. Screams, so heartwrenching that they became etched in Bryce's ears.
He looked away, half-paralyzed by what was happening around him, but even the sounds taught him more than he needed to know. He cringed as the chainsaw was audibly going through something. Something that screamed, louder than the roaring of the chainsaw.
“Fuck!” Bryce blurted out. “Fuck..”
He gagged and looked at his shovel. He gagged again. With the disgusting taste of bile in his mouth he looked up again.
Then suddenly, Will threw himself against Bryce, roughly bashing him aside, after wich Bryce smacked into the thick mud. Hastily he got up, just in time to see Will stagger backwards, desperately trying to ward off another vampire hunter, a woman, who had already managed to make Will's chest bleed quite badly.
An injury that was meant for Bryce. For a moment, he looked at the blood stain in horror.
He took a deep breath and dashed forward, lashing out with his spade and hitting the woman in the back with the spade's blade. She screamed as the metal cut into her skin. Bryce pulled the shovel back, looking with absolute horror at what he had done. Blood slowly darkened her clothes.
She then swore fiercely and took a swing at him with her machete. The blade nearly cut his throat and he staggered backwards, feeling the heat of the burning car behind him, knowing that the next swing would kill him. It would end him the same way it did Mrs. Queensland. He looked at the woman. Her face was grim and her eyes bore into his, in wich she undoubtedly saw the fear. Bryce felt like a coward. He tightened his grip on the shovel, ready to try and ward her off, while she seemed to be waiting for a good opening. Then she attacked, quickly and Bryce was barely able to lift the shovel in time. The machete nearly cut through the entire thing. Bryce broke it in two and tossed the shovel-less end away, recklessly hacking at the woman with the other end, allthough it was blatantly obvious that he lacked the will to actually hurt and kill her.
Were the sirens their rescue? To Bryce they probably were. The woman looked up, startled and again she swore. She bared her teeth at Bryce and then ran.
Judging from his expression, to Tim Queensland, these sirens, coming closer at a high speed, merely signalled a break. For him this was not over. Not until every last one of these guys was dead. Panick spread quickly as vampire hunters sprinted one way, into the fields, and the vampires themselves, under Will's lead, retreated into the forest, where, while running, Beth, Howard and Karl quickly caught up with them. Nobody spoke. They just ran like hell. Their quick footsteps and heavy breathing were pretty much all that was heard.
In the distance, an explosion indicated that the car's fuel tank had reached it's flashpoint. Bryce didn't dare to look back. He had left the shovel behind.
He had lost all track of time. They just ran, and ran and only Beth and Will seemed to know where they were going. The rest merely followed, trying to keep up.
They went deeper and deeper into the forest and the vegetation only grew more and more dense, to the point where it wasn't so much running but more like climbing what they did.
Bryce nearly tripped when he tried to rush through particularly spikey undergrowth, with cut through his muddy jeans and scratches his shins. He sped up, making sure he didn't lose the others.
And finally, after what felt like hours, and whith Bryce sides stinging painfully, they came to a halt near a small cottage, heavily affected by time. They stopped. Bryce looked at the small building, built up from rough rocks and roofed with dark tiles from wich several had already gone missing.
“Come on,” Will said flatly, and he unlocked the door with a dry click. Bryce timidly followed them in.
Inside, all Will did was then light one single candle. It was enough. They didn't need it for it's light, being the creatures of the night they were. But there was more to that candle. Tim looked at it, with hardly any emotion on his face. His hands trembled. The bravado he had displayed before the battle was gone. Together with his spirit. And his wife.
Karl patted him on the back.
“So sorry, man,” he said softly. Tim didn't respond. Bryce wished there was anything he could say. If he had fought along, would he have a made a difference? The image of the shovel stuck in the woman's back flashed before his eyes and he look away, even though it was but a memory.
He and Will had stayed inside not much longer than the rest. Would it have made a difference if they had charged together? Would it?
For a long time, nobody said a single word. Bryce's gaze went through the small cottage. The candle spread a soft, warm and flickering light that highlighted every bit of old, worn furniture, from the clock that no longer ticked to the old sofa that still had a newspaper on it. As if time had stood still here alltogether. If only it could go back as well.
“You need to get that looked at, Will,” Beth said, her voice unsteady, nodding at the wound on his chest.
“It's worse than it looks,” the man replied shortly.
“Don't we have to keep moving?” Karl prompted softly. Will shook his head silently.
Bryce wanted to sit down. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was exhausted. Even for a vampire this was a lot. But he didn't move. For one, everything here seemed so untouched that it felt wrong to disrupt that. And somehow it felt respectless as well. So soon after all of this.
The rest of the night, the police did not show up. Nor did they throughout the following day, through wich Bryce hardly slept, despite the exhaustion. The thing he'd seen haunted his mind relentlessly.
Tim didn't seem to be very much in the mood of sleeping either. The darkhaired man just sat there, in one of the old, dusty chairs, staring at the floor, uncapable of expressing the enormous grief that had to be inside of him.
Bryce followed his gaze. How? How could one just murder someone else like that? He knew it was nothing new. You read about it in the newspapers all the time. Yet seeing it with your own eyes was something entirely different. And how brutal it had been...
Time and time again he tried to get it all out of his mind, but to no avail.
Nobody had taught him about this.
Nothing could have prepared him for this.
Nothing could have absorbed the shock that was still going through his tattoo-covered body.
And nothing, nothing could ever erase the memories nor heal the mental wounds this had created.
For the first time in his life, Bryce had seen reality. More grim and dark than any vampire movie could ever have portrayed it. Some vampires seemed stuck in the idea that they were the hunters and humans their docile, replaceable prey. Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. They were the prey, hunted down and slaughtered unless they managed to fight back. They were a minority. They were scary, evil monsters that needed to be slain without remorse. Because if they were gone, they could no longer pose a threat.
And did they even know him?
They didn't.
How could they have known him?
And yet they had marked him an enemy, along with all the others. Like cattle. Just one of the herd. And he understood the fear, he truly did. How could he not?
But he simply never thought generalisation could be such a dreadful thing.
And did they even consider sparing him?
They didn't.
Why would they even spare him?
He was a vampire. He was evil and all that was wrong with the world.
If it had not been for the police, he would have been in the same place as Mrs. Queensland was now. His head would be seperated from his body. He would be laying there, in the mud, while the rest ran for their lives. He would probably be ragdolled away as the car's fuel tank exploded and his charred body would be disposed of.
Because he was a vampire. And all that was wrong with the world.
And would they regret what they had done?
Naturally, they wouldn't.
Again, he had no concept of time. The windows were carefully blocked. It wasn't until Will entered the room to say they would leave in a bit, that Bryce had any idea the evening had fallen allready.
“Everyone ready to go?” Will asked, lacking every kind of enthusiasm. The warmth with which he had greeted Bryce earlier on was gone as well. His expression was tired and hard.
A few nods and yesses arose from the small group of people, each alone in their thoughts.
Except from Tim. Tim said nothing. He just sat there. Elbows resting on his legs, head cradled in his hands. Motionless as stone. Again, Bryce wished there was something, anything, he could say to ease the pain.
“Tim?” Beth asked carefully, her face concerned. She exchanged a quick glance with Will.
Tim looked up, staring blankly at her.
“I'm not coming,” he answered hoarsely. Beth froze.
“Why not, dear?” Jodie asked, putting a meager hand on his knee and looking at him inquisitively.
“I don't want to. I'll stay here for one more night,” Tim replied with a light, barely noticable shrug.
Bryce frowned, not sure what to make of those words, but they gave him an uncomfortable feeling he could not entirely place. A feeling that he was not going to like this. He looked at the man, whose face still taught him nothing. The tension hung thick in stale air.
“And then?” Will asked sharply and Tim looked up. Now his dark eyes shimmered and his face was distorted by grief. His mask had finally fallen.
“I'm going after them. Let 'em know I'm coming for 'em. And finish every last one of them,” he said fiercely, clenching his fists.
Bryce bit his lower lip and looked away.
“And if they don't get me.. Then I'll watch the sun rise one last time,” he added softly. Jodie gasped and pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Tim, dear,” Beth tried, but the Latin-American man shook his head.
“This is why I didn't want to tell you guys.. You know me, when I make up my mind..” he said with a shrug that might have aimed at carelessness, but fooled no-one.
Will swallowed and smiled bitterly.
“If that is truly what you want, Tim, then so be it,” he said reluctantly. Beth rose to her feet.
“Will!”
“It's his choice Beth..”
“But-”
“Beth,” Tim interrupted her. He too stood up and put his hands on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. But for me it ends here,” he said. Beth shook her head in disbelief.
“Tim this is insane. I understand the loss is a lot to handle, but you can't just..” she made a powerless handgesture. She shook her head, visibly trying to find the words to stop Tim.
“She was everything. I've made my decision.” Tim's voice got a sharp end to it. Bryce looked from one to the other, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it in the last moment. What could he even say?
He swallowed. Was Tim serious? Was he really just going to end it? Just like that? One last sunrise. To a vampire, that shit sounded horrifying.
Will was the most calm.
“So be it.”
Bryce looked at him, his mouth hanging open.
“You are just going to agree to a suicide?” he asked incredulously.
“This doesn't concern you,” Tim said brusquely. Bryce didn't respond.
And so they left. The silence continued and Tim stayed behind, preparing himself for the vengeance he was going to exact.
A few times, Bryce looked over his shoulder until the cottage was nowhere in sight anymore. He sighed and started walking beside Karl.
For hours on end, they walked through the forest, under the millions of stars in the calm sky.
Bryce shoved his hands in his pockets and just kept his eyes on the uneven terrain below his feet, with was a mixture of grassy patches, spikey undergrowth, icecold mud and tricky rocks. He sunk away into his thoughts, as a result of the painful, heavily loaded silence, until Karl spoke, finally.
“You okay, son?” he asked. Bryce sought for the right words.
“Is this.. how it always goes?” he asked, feeling more insecure than ever. Was this the reality of being a vampire? Would this be what he'd deal with the rest of his life until he would become as suicidal as Tim?
Karl smiled bitterly and put a heavy hand on Bryce' shoulder.
“Welcome to the real world boy,” he said. “Welcome to the real world.”
The End.
