It had been a quiet night in Happy. People had become increasingly more wary in recent weeks with the overly aggressive Happy Security Watch, rumors of missing people, and some small, strange occurrences that put everyone on edge. Ernest and Jake stood menacingly at the end of Main Street, looking for a target, an easy meal. If they couldn’t find anyone, they would have to lure somebody out of their home and then they could pounce. That was a dangerous plan. Anyone could be carrying a gun on the street, but they would almost certainly have at least one in their home. This is Texas. Sure, the vampires would unlikely be killed if they were shot, but it would still hurt.
They saw their target, an old, squat man stepping out of Brandy’s. He was incapable of walking in a straight line and stumbled towards a beat up old Cadillac with his keys in his hands. The two vampires couldn’t have hoped for a better opportunity. They strode towards the man with purpose as he struggled to get the key into the lock. Just as the old man inserted the key, the two creatures were upon him.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive, sir?” Jake asked. He snatched the keys from the man and placed them in his own pocket. “We’ll get you home, safe and sound.”
The old man struggled to focus on the two men in front of him. “Give me my damn keys. I’m good to drive.”
Ernest moved next to the man and smelled his breath, his nostrils flaring as the stench of alcohol and chilli filled his nose, repulsing him. “Sir, you don’t want to get into any trouble, do you?”
“Go fuck yourselves. I’ll give you trouble!”
The old man clenched his fist as tight as he could and threw it into Ernest's face. The vampire didn’t move an inch. It had connected nicely, but the old, intoxicated man couldn’t muster enough strength to bother the monster in front of him. He was lucky he made contact at all with the punch. Ernest suddenly turned away, feigning injury. Wailing with pain, he clutched his face, staggering around the sidewalk as if he was gravely injured. Jake, with a look of horror on his face, rushed over to Ernest to help.
Jake held Ernest close to him and turned to the old man. “You brute, you’ve disfigured him!”
The man suddenly had a look of concern on his face, knowing he’d overstepped the mark and shouldn’t have lashed out. He held his hands up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
In an instant, both Jake and Ernest turned to face the drunk. The skin on their faces had stretched, enormous mouths full of dagger-like teeth, and the blood-red eyes made the old man stumble back a few paces before he fell to the ground. Four hands with long fingers and sharp black nails reached out to the man. He tried to scream but his voice just gurgled, unable to form any other sound as the blood ran from his neck and on to Jake’s hand where it had been plunged into the man’s throat.
“Take his car?” Ernest asked.
“You drive, I’ll sample the food.”
“Don’t get greedy, or I’ll rip a hole in your belly and drink myself full of his blood from you.”
Jake tossed Ernest the keys, and the pair loaded the body into the car, and made their way back to the house.
***
Clara had detected them, but it was too late. The wind carried their scent, and that of their victim, straight to the truck. Two distinct creatures. With Henry accompanying her, she couldn’t do anything other than remain calm for fear of giving herself away. Traveling at his slow, relaxed pace, unaware of the horror befalling an innocent, she could only squirm uncomfortably. If she had been on her own, on foot she may have covered the ground quicker, a straight line to the incident and not relying on the roads to wind their way into town.
When the pair reached Main Street, she led them directly to the spot, trying her best to not be too forceful.
“Is that blood?” Henry asked. His face contorted and disgusted as Clara dipped her fingertips in the thick red puddle and lifted them to her nose to drink in the delicious odor.
“It’s fresh. We must be cautious.”
Henry gently touched the large revolver under his jacket, reassuring himself it was still there. Clara knew they had picked off a few locals discreetly. Beyond the alarm that a few mysteriously missing townsfolk produces, they had left no trace. A small pool of blood on the sidewalk on Main Street was both careless and wasteful. When she fed on humans, she rarely wasted a drop.
“What should we do?”
“Nothing. This is arterial blood. Whoever they took is already dead. Stay alert, there could be more, they may be close.”
Clara could barely make out their scent now; they had put enough distance between themselves and the scene that it wasn’t as obvious. Maybe they were in a car, or a house, but it didn’t matter, they weren’t close anymore. If they had founded a nest in Happy, it would be a useful way to give Henry some experience fighting the blood suckers away from Crimson Falls. With her help, even a dozen of the miserable fiends would be a good workout for them both, and a good start. They could carefully plan an attack, observe the nest over a few nights and she would know the level of vampire they’d be facing. As long as Penelope or Mason weren’t present, it should be a piece of cake.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
***
The boys had done their job. They were capable fighters. Had Clara confronted them on their own, they might have had a shot at taking her down. But they were the bait, the distraction. Penelope had waited south of the town since sunset, waiting for a trace of her old friend whom she was confident was keeping her head down in one of the abandoned businesses or homes of Happy. More than once, Penelope believed she had successfully lured Clara out into the open, only for the scent to quickly disappear. The temptation of slaying two vampires and being the savior to a human was sure to prove too great for Clara, and then Penelope could strike from downwind with the element of surprise.
Jake and Ernest had remained unmolested. But she had come. And brought the guardian with her.
“Better late than never, Clara, my dear.”
Penelope walked, then jogged before she broke into a sprint across the rough terrain, heading directly to town. To kill the traitor and the guardian.
***
Clara closed her eyes to concentrate. Henry’s rapid heartbeat filled her ears. She tried to ignore it, listen for a scream, a shout, an evil cackle. The strong wind helped carry an array of odors for long distances, but the noise it made masked any useful audio clues.
“Damn it Henry, calm down. I can’t hear a blasted thing!”
“I didn’t say anything,” Henry replied, confused.
“Stop and listen. You’re a guardian, your senses should be superior. Maybe your whole life you’ve heard a little clearer than other people, seen a little further, with a sharper focus. Could smell dinner being served from down the block. Concentrate, what do you hear? What do you smell?”
Henry closed his eyes and slowly moved his head around, listening intently, sniffing the air.
“I can’t hear anything, or smell anything.”
“Ignore your nose. You wouldn’t know how to interpret the smell of a vampire from that of a human. Listen, trust your ears. What is out there that doesn’t fit in. What makes your heart skip a beat?”
Henry screwed up his face as he tried to block everything else out.
“A hammer. I can hear it, bang, bang, bang, bang. It’s rhythmic, getting louder. Getting closer.”
Henry pulled out his revolver and opened his eyes just as Penelope leapt at Clara, knocking her to the ground with Penelope in full vampire mode, her sharp talons embedded in Clara. The impact forced the pair rolling yards down the sidewalk. Henry raised the .45 but couldn’t get a clear shot at the creature.
Clara looked at the angry red eyes of Penelope as she fended off the determined vampire’s attacks.
“Fight back, you ungrateful bitch! Show me your true self!” Penelope screamed.
Clara tried desperately to gain control, but in her human form, she wasn’t strong enough for Penelope.
Henry removed a blade from the inside of his boot. One of his father’s combat knives. Revolver in one hand, combat knife in the other, he ran at the monster as it slashed at Clara. Just as he was close enough for a clear shot, Penelope turned and swiped at him, sending Henry into the road, his handgun and knife sliding out of his grasp.
“You smell just like your father.”
Penelope gripped Clara’s head with her long, sharp fingers and smashed it into the sidewalk until Clara’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was out cold. Penelope looked at her with disappointment. “I’ll be just a minute.”
Henry looked at the terrifying creature as it rose to its feet and loomed over him. He scrambled for his weapons, but it was too quick. In a remarkably quick motion, it moved around Henry and kicked the gun and knife further down the street.
“You’re new, aren’t you? Is this the first time you’ve seen one of us in our true form? And the last.”
Confidently she strode towards Henry and picked him up from by his neck, holding him in the air. Examining him as if he was a trophy, but disappointed by what she saw.
Henry gasped for breath, his arms and legs flailing ineffectively as he tried to get loose, but Penelope’s grip was too firm, the black talons piercing just enough to make every slight movement agonizing. Henry looked at Clara and saw her hand move. She wasn’t dead, but she would be soon.
“The panty gun! Use the little girl’s gun!” Eddie screamed. From nowhere, he was suddenly standing next to Henry, panic on his face.
Henry felt around his trousers and produced the small Derringer, pulled back the hammer and pressed the small handgun against the vampire’s chest and pulled the trigger.
Its dead flesh masked the sound of the first .32 bullet as it slammed home. Penelope gasped in pain and dropped Henry to the floor, landing him on his ass. He had missed her heart, but she looked panicked and clutched at the wound. Henry could barely breathe and sat back up, cocked the hammer back once again, and fired. This time, the little Derringer made an impressively loud pop. The second hot piece of silver struck Penelope in her belly. The gasp turned into a wail and the fight had left her. She ran into the darkness, stumbling to the ground, but still at an impressive speed regained her footing and was out of view.
Henry’s hand shook as he emptied the spent cartridges from the handgun and replaced them with two fresh rounds. He held the gun in front of him and looked around, waiting for a second attack that didn’t come.
“You saved my ass there, Eddie.”
Eddie had already disappeared. Suddenly, Henry thought about checking Clara. He turned to where she had been laying but she wasn’t there. He looked behind him and his heart dropped. Clara was lapping at the pool of blood from the earlier victim on the sidewalk, like a cat drinking milk.
The creature had turned her. It was much quicker than the books had told him. Henry was now on his own, but he knew what he had to do. With the Derringer raised and pointed at Clara, he dragged himself closer to her, to a distance he knew he could hit her in the heart and end her misery.
“I’m sorry, Clara.”
Clara turned around sharply, her red eyes distracting him just long enough before she knocked the gun from his hands. “Don’t. It’s not what you think!”
“It turned you! You know you can’t carry on as one of them. I have to, you know this.”
Henry was now unarmed, but maybe she wasn’t too far gone. Perhaps he could reason with her before the darkness clouded her mind.
Clara stood up, and her eyes returned to normal, but she was weak and wobbled. “Penelope didn’t turn me. I’ve been a vampire for a very long time.”
Henry scurried across the ground and picked up the Derringer, pointing it at her.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, you do.” Eddie said. The apparition was again next to Henry and walked slowly in front of him, standing between the loaded weapon and Clara. “She’s been a vampire for a long time, and she is here to help you. For now, at least. Put it down and get the hell out of here.”
Henry lowered the gun and looked at her, confused.
Clara picked up the revolver and knife from the street and handed them to Henry. “Let’s get back to the chapel. We need to talk.”