Good morning and Happy Hump Day ! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
Last week, as you'll recall, we said good-bye to Chan and Evan, leaving them to their happily ever after. Now, on to something new. My new story is called An Unholy Alliance. In this first chapter we meet the narrator. This is his story, so I'll let him tell it. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them! Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
How could I have been so stupid?
Careless even, with a capital C. And that is Just. Not. Me. I plan everything to the nth degree, that is who I am and what I do. I try to think ahead, make every possible allowance for variables, in case something goes awry. I don’t like surprises in my life, especially when it comes to my feeding. I do what needs to be done in order that I may survive, and I make sure not to leave any evidence that I was ever there.
And most of all, I don’t sire another of my kind. Ever.
Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not all about recruiting new members to join the ranks of the Undead. In fact, we prefer to keep our numbers down to a minimum. One reason is that if you keep turning your prey into hunters, eventually you won’t have enough of them to feed on, and then what? That’s not something I want to find out. Secondly, the more people who are killed, the more likely we are to be noticed, and that is the last thing any of us need. Seriously. Better to let the humans live in blissful ignorance of our presence so that we can thrive.
This is why each of the vampire clans has enforcers to make sure the rules are obeyed. Especially the one about not taking too much blood from anybody. That takes a delicate touch, however.
Which brings us to the reason why I’m not with my clan right now, and why I avoid the Enforcers like the plague. Why I am operating independently.
All right, technically speaking I was thrown out of the clan. I may deny the fact from here to Eternity, but the truth remains that I didn’t exactly leave of my own volition. Which is embarrassing to admit, considering the leader of my particular clan is my mother.
And it’s all because I have a little problem with… self-control.
It’s never my intention to drink so much that I end up killing my dinner companion, but the truth is that I just love the taste of blood and I find I cannot help myself. Which became problematic for the clan. And so I had to leave. And now I’m sorting myself out. Trying to take command of myself and my appetites so I can get back into my mother’s good graces.
And, so far, I’m failing rather miserably.
As evidenced by the fact that he saw me. And this is where I started. Ranting about him.
Damnation. He’s got me so rattled that I’m just about ready to howl with frustration, but that will never do. I’m losing my train of thought and rambling. Back to my story.
Bad enough I was in the middle of godforsaken nowhere, on the outskirts of some Podunk town, flying under the radar as it were, in the middle of the night, when dinner practically fell into my lap. What else could I do but obey the siren call of the blood which cried out to me? Midnight had already passed, the stars but distant memories as they winked out, one by one, suffocated by thick clouds, perfect for hiding a multitude of sins. A chill breeze blew, the wind whistling among the trees, rising and falling like an unearthly symphony. I drew my coat tighter about me to preserve what body heat I possess, which isn’t nearly enough by far, but what can you do? Undead, you know. Comes with the territory.
I stood within the comforting shadows of a giant oak. A small farmhouse stood close at hand, as silent as the night, its inhabitants probably long asleep. A single porch light was the sole illumination. I felt at least three heartbeats inside… I only needed one. But as in uffish thought I stood, I heard a noise coming toward me. No, not the Jabberwock, but the next best thing. A motor vehicle. The car pulled up into the yard, not far from where I stood, the lights immediately cut. I drew back into the darkness a little more, despite my confidence in my ability to remain unseen. Stealth is one of my many talents.
A door banged and the driver emerged. A young man he was, in his early twenties. And from the scent of him, he’d been drinking. A night out with the boys, maybe? Even as I scoped him out, I couldn’t help but hope he hadn’t indulged in some local rotgut that could give me a stomach ache—been there, done that—but I wasn’t about to ask him either.
Another scent clung about him, and I couldn’t help but smile. I might not be interested in the carnal arts myself, but I could recognize the musky scent of sex when I came upon it. And he reeked of it. Which meant that his second brain was in control at the moment, luckily for me.
Drunk with booze and sex, what a perfect combination.
Before he could even think about stumbling toward the dark house, I made myself visible to him.
“You don’t come from around here, do you?” he said.
First astute observation.
“You’re black, aren’t you?”
Second astute observation.
Alas, he never had the chance to make a third declaration of infinite intelligence, because I had already sunk my fangs into his neck. His unsteady legs became even more unstable as he leaned into me, moaning with the pleasure he received from my touch. His blood tasted fruity, not unpleasant at all.
And I was thirsty… so thirsty.
Just a little more… a
little more.
“Hey, I know what you are!” A strange voice unexpectedly drew me from my blood lust. I raised my head to find I’d made a mistake in supposed this young man to be alone. A pale face emerged through the passenger window.
Wtf?
Oh lord, Charlemagne, what have you done now, I groaned.
to be continued
Now that you've met Charlemagne, so see what the other Briefers are up to!
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