Chomp

I entered the dining room a little hesitantly at first. The woman who had thrown a new polo shirt at my face hadn’t explained much, other than ’Clean yourself up nicely and meet her in the dining room.’ I had no idea who ‘her’ was even supposed to be, but I wasn’t one to argue.

After a quick shower, I got dressed and attempted to fix my unruly, wavy hair. It was probably long past needing a trim, but it would have to do for now. I flattened it as best I could before leaving my room and heading down the hall.

The house was fairly quiet, and the windows didn’t let in any light. Whoever she was, she felt the need to meet me in the middle of the night.

As I entered, I saw Jess sitting at the head of the table. Her shoulder-length black hair had been softly curled, and she wore a capped-sleeved ruby cocktail dress as if she was going to a party.

I stared at her, fully aware that it was the first time I had ever seen her wear any makeup. My eyes were drawn to the cranberry colour of her lips. She looked up from admiring her painted nails when I entered.

“Sa—Adrian!” Jess greeted warmly, getting to her feet.

She seemed a little taller than usual, almost my height. My eyes ran down her thighs and slender legs, taking my time until I got to the black Mary Janes heels she had on.

“Hi…” I began, laughing nervously. A quick glance about the room showed that the table was set for two, though no food had been brought out. Two glasses of wine stood full, one with a lipstick mark along the rim. “A-Are we celebrating something?”

She smiled and brushed some hair behind her ear. “I talked to Yacob.”

She said it like I knew what that equated to grinning ear from ear.

“Oh. Umm… What about?”

Her face fell slightly.

“What we spoke about yesterday,” she said slowly. “You… don’t remember?” Her shoulders sagged slightly, and her almond-shaped eyes seemed to have a little loss in them. Whatever it was I was supposed to have remembered, I wished I had in that instant.

She cleared her throat, but hitched her smile back on her face. “When we were out, we were talking about vampires having children. Remember?”

“U-Uh-huh…?”

“Well, as promised, I ran the idea by Yacob. Of course, he agreed with me and gave us his blessing,” she explained, her cheeks flushed. They were nothing compared to mine though. “We need more Cainists in this world to make our packs stronger, and that’s the only way we can achieve it. Plus, as you pointed out, I’d make a great mother.”

Dry didn’t even begin to describe the state of my mouth.

It felt as though a dentist had left one of those saliva vacuums in there and forgotten about it for a couple of hours. Maybe weeks. Her words left me feeling awkward as hell, and my face positively burned.

“H-His blessing for… for what, exactly? You… You said ’us’…” I whispered, hoping to god I had pieced her information together incorrectly.

Jess tilted her head to the side, a certain slyness creeping onto her lips. “I know you’re young, Adrian, but you’re not that young.”

Oh god—I had pieced it together correctly.

“W-W-Well I’m—I can’t—why would he even—” I struggled, turning my face away from her. I couldn’t look at her or even take the situation seriously.

Jess was beautiful, sure, but she was also over two hundred years older than I was. Not particularly seen as old in the vampire community, but she far more fit into the mothering role for me than anything else.

“Don’t tell me you hadn’t thought about it before.”

I glanced back at her, utterly mortified. “But—”

“But nothing,” she persisted, taking a step forward so she was less than a foot away from me. I hated the fact that I could see down her dress. “Yacob gave his approval already.”

“That’s not the point!”

“What? Is it that I’m not attractive?” she asked, frowning. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that glance there.”

I had really hoped she didn’t. “It’s… not that.”

“Then?” she persisted, sounding a little annoyed. “What is it?”

It was safe to say that every teenaged boy had some sort of fantasy with sleeping with an older woman at one point in time; I would have been lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind a couple of times before.

But this was a perversion of an already admittedly perverted thought—if there could ever be a thing. If I was being honest, Jess was a knock-out—the type that garnered a lot of stares on the streets—but I just couldn’t bring myself to see her as anything other than who she really was. And who she really was was my counsellor of all things, not to mention someone who was probably older than my mom—Tanya, anyway.

“Well?”

“I-I’m just a kid…”

It wasn’t a lie, but it still felt weird to say it aloud. To Bryan and Tanya, I had always been their little boy, and somewhere along the line I started considering myself a little more than just that. But in that moment, with Jess standing there before and propositioning me, I felt like I was four years old.

She looked like she desperately wanted to roll her eyes. “You do realize that, for us, age just isn’t a thing? It’s just a number. What matters more is our experiences in life, and what we can add to the world. I can contribute my experiences, and you can contribute your blood. It’s just as valuable, if not more so, than anything else.”

“No.”

The word came out far more forceful than I intended, and it echoed throughout the dining room.

For Jess, it was more like a slap to the face. “But Yacob explicitly said—”

“I don’t really care what he said!” I started heatedly. “Uncle or not, he’s certainly not in charge of that part of me—I am. And I’m saying no.”

“Fine.”

Flustered, she stalked past me to get to the door. She paused when she neared me, her arm brushing slightly against mine. “But you do realize that Yacob is in charge of all of us. What he says goes; if he truly wants this, it will happen.”

I watched with mild sickness as she disappeared behind the French doors, her heels clacking as she stormed down the hall.

The next few days seemed to drag by.

Jess hadn’t been to see me after our little incident; while I was glad for it, it also meant that I wasn’t allowed outside our compound. There was a small library to keep my mind occupied, but many of the books there weren’t written in English. My French was mediocre at best, and I lacked the ability to even come close to reading Arabic, Yiddish, Latin, or any of the other languages Yacob’s books were in.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said, walking by Yacob one day. Enough was enough.

He looked up from some large scripture that was written in a language I didn’t recognize.

“Alone?” he inquired, raising a fluffy white brow.

“Yeah. I can’t… I need to be out.”

He closed the book and slowly looked me over, as if assessing me for damage. If that was the case, surely I would be allowed out by myself; my body had regenerated far more quickly than anyone at the compound had anticipated, Yacob included.

A smile glanced across his lips. “I do suppose you’ve been well for quite some time.”

“Honestly… Being told to rest is what made it harder. Staying in bed for that long makes walking hard,” I explained. “I think if I ever have another building crush my skull, a full day should be good.”

“Next thing you know you’ll be able to take bullets,” Yacob whispered, his eyes sparkling. His comment took me aback. “I can tell you from experience, it’s not as bad as it sounds. You wouldn’t be out of commission like you were before. Other than the brain, our bodies are extremely resilient. I suppose it’s where the whole immortal vampire lore came from.”

“Good to know,” I said shortly, hoping to end the conversation there. I didn’t plan on having another building fall on me or getting shot at. “I’m just going to head out n—”

“Which way are you going?”

I frowned. “Hadn’t thought about it… Why?”

Yacob cleared his throat and got to his feet. “Well, there’s a certain item I’ve had my ear open for, and I was hoping to get my hands on it. If you’re heading over to where I suspect—more out of habit than not—I was hoping you’d perhaps be able to… check in on things.”

I didn’t answer right away. No doubt, Yacob knew I was planning on going out to search for Tanya and Bryan. But what item of interest could possibly be near them?

“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied, not committing to anything. “What would I be looking for?”

“You’ll know it when you feel it.”

I laughed nervously, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t. “I… sorry? Could you be a little more… more specific?”

“When you’re near it, you’ll feel it, Adrian.”

I nodded, pretending to know what he was talking about. If it meant being able to leave the compound, I could pretend to ’feel’ any object I chose.

Walking through the gated enclosure of the house, I gave a feeble wave to the guards that stood by the two stone pillars. They gave no indication they had seen the action, though part of me suspected they just wanted to ignore me.

I had more or less gotten used to the state of the streets: garbage strewn everywhere, people’s possessions left behind as they fled from god-knows-what. There was the occasional body, though they usually got picked up fairly quickly, either by loved ones or hungry animals.

Stepping over the half-eaten remains of what looked like a child, I crossed the silent street, heading in the direction of home. As I neared a busier street, I noticed a few other people walking around. Many of them held guns out in the open, a couple of them knives.

If New York City had been dangerous before…

I checked the street signs as I made my way slowly up the avenues and boulevards, taking my time to at least enjoy the fresh air. The main city square would be up ahead a couple of blocks, and from there, I could head for my old house.

With every footstep that hit the pavement, I couldn’t help but feel a tightening in my chest. Tanya, Bryan. Were they okay? Were they alive? Would they even be at the house if they were? I knew that this would have happened regardless, but moving had been the worst decision they could have made.

They were good people. If anything were to happen to them…

I slapped my hands against my cheeks a couple of times. No, I couldn’t think that way. As I approached the square, I noticed a gathered crowd. Goosebumps rippled across my skin; the scene seemed all too familiar, and it made my heart jump into my throat.

It was just as my dream from ages ago had set the scene.

Hundreds of people gathering around something, loudspeakers set up around them, annunciating a stage with people on it. I barely managed to breathe. Taking a quick glance around, the people in the crowd actually had faces—something that was of little comfort when their expressions were mostly contorted into rage, disgust, and a whole other slew of bad emotions.

They were staring up at what looked like a dozen protesters on the stage. The protesters held stoic stances and faces as they ignored the hisses and boos from the crowd. The signs they held varied from ’one in the same’ and ’they’re still people.’

The whole scene made my skin crawl.

“All they ever do is steal and kill!” came a screaming voice from the crowd. “How dare you stand there and tell me that they’re even close to being human?!”

There were a few hums of agreement and more hisses.

One person even threw a glass bottle onto the stage. It landed at the feet of a protester with pallid skin and blonde hair caked with dirt.

My heart stopped.

“Yes,” Tanya replied, calling back to the rabid crowd. “They are people. And in case you’ve forgotten, people have killed and stolen from other people all throughout history.” Her tone was stronger than I would have expected; between the dirt, bruises, and torn clothes, she looked like she had been through hell.

“Bullshit!”

“They took my daughter away from me!”

“Burn them!”

My head darted around to each person that spoke, terror building in my chest. It was starting to mirror the dream again. I glanced back at Tanya on the stage. Her blue eyes were lackluster, tired, and lined with thick purple bags like she hadn’t slept in weeks.

Bryan was nowhere to be seen.

I wanted nothing more than to call out to her. My voice caught in my throat, and my eyes stung. She was so close. I pushed past a few people in the crowd, trying to get closer to the stage. I wasn’t the only one with that idea; a few US Army soldiers bulldozed their way to the front as well.

“Stand down!” one of them called out steadily. It was easy enough for him to remain calm; he was the one holding the gun. The protesters ignored him, opting to stay on the stage and hold their signs up. “I repeat—stand down!”

“We’re not hurting anyone!” one of the other protesters cried over the screaming. “We have every right to be here!”

I kept moving up until I was mere inches from Tanya and her sign that read ’they’re our sons and daughters.’ My voice cracked as I reached a hand out to her, tugging gently on the material of her scrub pants. She hadn’t worn them since she had moved up from being on active duty.

The touch took her by surprise, and she stepped back a bit, but her eyes soon locked with my own.

“S-Sammy?” she called out, her voice barely a whisper.

My eyes felt hot and wet. It had been months, but she was here, and she was alive. “Mom…”

She collapsed to her knees, tears forming in her eyes. She reached out a hand and placed it against my cheek. Her hands were oddly cold, but I didn’t care. With an uneven sob, she heaved, “Baby… Where—?”

It was all she could get out.

“She’s touching one of the civilians!” the soldier shrieked.

The square rang, the sounds of fifteen guns shooting off rounds far too loud for me to discern what was going on. The sounds vibrated off of everything, almost blinding me. The bullets shot through countless protesters, blood spattering this way and that. Horrified and electrified screams rang out from both groups.

Eighteen bullets hit Tanya.

Nine in her head. Two in her neck. Six in her chest. One in her leg, and one through the hand that remained on my cheek. It was as if her body didn’t process the injury right away. Her eyes and lips twitched as the smoke began to clear, as if she was trying to say something.

“Mom!” I screamed. I barely felt the holes in my own cheeks that the bullet had ripped. Her pulse had quickened briefly, but it slowly petered out as she sat there, blood pouring from every wound. The flesh on her head hung in tattered bits, her bloodied hair matted against her scalp and exposed brain.

My heart seemed to forget how to beat.

No!

“Back away from the traitors,” another soldier barked, sliding himself in between us. Tanya’s hand fell limp and hid the side of the stage. “It isn’t safe here.”

I choked, resisting his push. “No.”

“Yes. Do as you are commanded—this is an unsafe area, and the army has jurisdiction here.”

“You killed her…” I whispered. My face was soaked with a mixture of tears, my blood, and Tanya’s, but I didn’t bother to wipe any of it off. I couldn’t.

The soldier rolled his dark, uncaring eyes. “She would have killed you,” he snapped. “Those traitors are dangerous. Now, evacuate the—”

“No.”

They had taken her from me when we were so close. She would never be able to hold me in a tight, comforting embrace, give me advice—and I would never have her and Bryan’s quirkiness in my life. There was no telling what they would do with my mom’s body, and I certainly didn’t want to give them the choice.

They had ripped her from me, despite her nonviolent protest. I clenched my fists, drawing blood.

“Go to hell,” I snarled.

He cocked an eyebrow and raised his rifle. “Are you talking back to me?” he asked, almost sounding intrigued. “You sure you wanna end up like her? She looks like fucking bloody diarrhea!”

He was dead before he could laugh at his own stupid joke.

Fifteen.

There had been fifteen soldiers that fired. I took the first down where he stood, threatening me with a gun because he wasn’t man enough to do it without. His veins were ripped out through the gaping hole I made in his neck. His blood stung my nostrils and caused my fangs to unsheathe, but I wasn’t hungry.

He wasn’t worthy to eat.

When his body collapsed in the middle of the square, another trio of soldiers started firing off their guns as well. Their bullets hit me in the chest—I felt them, but my adrenalin ran too high, and they didn’t seem to stop me.

My unbridled rage propelled me forward, and before they knew what had happened, I was upon them. Fangs dripping with venom, I grazed the three of them before they could fire off another set of rounds.

It took a few seconds for it to take action, in which they blasted me with a barrage of bullets. In their horror, they completely missed my head—their fatal mistake, evidently. The bullets that shot through my arms fell to the ground, pushed out by my quickly regenerating body, and the ones that blew through my chest had an easier job of resealing holes.

The soldiers shook as they and the hysterical crowd stared on at me, the poison working through their bloodstream. It caused their veins to run black, rotting the vessels from the inside out. I had nicked them all in a relatively quick-spreading area—two necks and an inner arm—and it didn’t take long for the black lines to cover their skin. Frothing at the mouth, they collapsed. I wiped the venom from my lips, barely noticing my cheeks had healed.

The crowd screamed, running this way and that. Wherever they felt was safe, it certainly wasn’t here. Certainly not if you were a soldier.

Many of them headed for the hills, running down the streets with the rest of the crowd, using them as a shield. I caught two more before they could get out of the square. They all tried to hide behind their guns, as if such a thing would protect them.

No, General. You deserve to die, so you will.

It took me a while to track down the other four soldiers. Somehow, they had slipped under my radar, and I couldn’t help but suspect that they had used the sewers like the rats they were. Nevertheless, they all had the scent of GSR on them—a distinct mixture of burning and lead—and they were easy to follow. They had originally split up—no doubt in a hurry, trying to run for their lives—but after about twenty minutes, they converged together near my old high school.

The dreary building was almost endearing, the perfect setting. The soldiers had broken down the main door and had rushed through, not knowing that hiding was not how you won against your stalking predator.

That was exactly as I felt, running my hands against the lockers as I glided down the corridor.

I hadn’t been here long enough for the halls to hold any sort of nostalgia; all I felt right then, right there, was the urge to end all four of their lives. I knew it wouldn’t bring Tanya’s back, but it didn’t matter.

They needed to pay for their actions.

The chemical smell from their guns led me down to the basement of the school. I took the steps one by one, making sure each footfall on the metal stairs was loud enough to echo throughout.

That was the one good thing about this awful school; they were too poor to have to follow fire safety guidelines and decided to only have one exit from the basement. If these soldiers wanted out, they needed to get by me.

“—fuck is that thing?” came a faint whisper. I slipped silently over toward it, closer to the boiler. “I’ve never seen anything like that. What do you think—”

“Keep your voice down; it’ll hear you!”

Yes, it will—far too late for that.

“I knew these fucking rallies were dangerous, but—”

“Shh!”

Their pulses raced in my ear, not showing any signs of stopping. Not on their own, at least. In the dark, I could see them huddled between the boiler and an industrial storage locker like mice hiding from a hungry cat.

“She was innocent,” I called out to them. I didn’t know why I was even bothering with it; it was clear by their actions that they didn’t really care. “All those people on the stage—they were human, just like you.”

All four of them whipped around. Sweat clung to their hair and faces, and they tried to hide their terror as much as possible. Instead, the blind mice, eyeing me with contempt as best they could.

“Anyone willing to fight for freaks might as well be a freak themselves,” one snarled, slowly getting to his feet. He reached down to a holster clipped to his hip and pulled out a small gun.

Kill them all…

I stopped dead in my tracks. None of their lips had moved, but what put me off more than anything was that the voice was… familiar.

Show them what we do to those who hurt us…

“You’re an idiot, whoever you are,” the soldier spat, training his barrel on me while I looked around for the voice. Did he not hear it?

“Even if you kill us all down here, everyone’s seen you. Everyone knows the face of the maniac that killed a bunch of defenseless soldiers!”

Start with their fingers… One by one… Then their toes… Then their cocks, forced down their own throats… Keep them awake… Make them watch the whole time… They will suffer… Make them suffer…

The voice was a harsh whisper with a faint hissing accent to it that I couldn’t place. It echoed all throughout the basement, cascading off the walls and boiler. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded as though it was coming from the storage locker.

Whoever it was, their ideas weren’t bad.

But I wasn’t interested in torture.

In a quick motion, I darted in front of the man’s handgun and snatched it straight from his grasp.

He didn’t even realize what had happened until I was back in my original spot. Hid Adam’s apple dunked slowly as he swallowed hard and placed his hands in the air in surrender.

“You look a little young to know how to use a gun,” he said slowly. “Put it down, and we can talk.”

Kill him.

“I will,” I answered the voice.

Relief spread across the soldier’s face. “T-There’s a good monst—vampire. Put down the gun like you said you would.”

I squeezed the trigger before he could get in another word edgewise. The gun jerked in my hands, far more than I could have expected. The bullet hit him square in the foot, and he howled in pain. “What the fuck?! You said you’d put it down, you lying little fu—”

Another shot rang out, this one hitting his companion in the lower bowels. He screeched and fell from his knees onto his side, clasping bloodied hands to the wound. Another shot, another, and another. With his comrades bleeding out or already dead, the remaining soldier stood weakly, keeping his weight off the foot I shot.

“You sick little freak,” he hissed. “What do you think this will accomplish? Bring that fat cow back to life?”

I lowered the gun slowly, and he laughed dryly.

“What? Did I hurt your little feelings? Was that Mommy-Moo-Moo there?”

Slowly… He doesn’t deserve a quick death…

“No,” I agreed, nodding. “He doesn’t.”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” the soldier snapped, taking a step backward as I took one toward him.

I didn’t answer it. I might not have known the answer, but the soldier didn’t deserve to know if I did, didn’t deserve anything more than this. I took another step toward him. “She was my mom, yeah.”

“Best she’s dead then. Probably embarrassed to have a kid that got turned.”

Start with his eyelids… Peel them back… Yank his teeth out one by one…

I shook off the voice’s suggestion. No, if I was going to make this man suffer, it was going to be my way.