How did someone even begin to draft an email like the one I was attempting to write?

Hey boss, might need to quit from the whole vampire hunting thing because I was a fucking idiot and got turned.

I shook my head and growled, tenting my nose between a forefinger and thumb.

“You are a stupid, stupid girl,” I whispered to myself.

I then instinctively reached for my neck, feeling the two little holes that still marked my flesh. Though I then noticed the distinct lack of pulse that came through my carotid arteries. It was a rude reminder about how truly fucked I was.

“She did say she wanted to have fun with me,” I growled.

Maybe I could be a vampire hunter who just happened to be a vampire? I distinctly remembered the movie Blade. Wasn’t he a vampire hunter even though he was a vampire?

Well first…

He’s a fictional character.

And second…

How exactly do you intend to kill vampires if all of your weapons hurt you as well?

“Details, details,” I growled at my brain before realizing how insane I must’ve looked. “Great, now I’m actually starting to lose it.”

There had to be a policy in place for something like this?

But then I remembered that there was a policy in place. That policy was a small gel capsule that I kept in a prescription container. A small gel capsule that was filled with a silver solution that would kill a vampire in an instant.

Would kill me in an instant…

“I don’t want to fucking die,” I whispered at myself.

It’s not like you’re really even alive anymore…

Except I was very much alive.

Yes, my pulse might’ve stopped but my brain was alight with worry and anxiety. My soul was still there and ached at the thought of no longer existing. My motives and personality were both still strong and they desired to continue.

What made me, me, was still alive and well.

“You know… you might be learning a very valuable lesson about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes right about now,” I grumbled to myself before bristling with a harsh laughter. “Great, you’re already starting to side with them.”

I sighed and shook my head.

My attention then returned to my computer where an empty email sat before me. It was destined for an address that showed up as a series of fragmented pixels.

“I mean why try and be eloquent about it?” I whispered.

My fingers glided across the keyboard, hammering away.

Hey, I’ve been infected with the flu and would like to seek guidance on how I should proceed.

-Christine

I then hit send, feeling both a weight taken off my shoulders and simultaneously driven right into my stomach.

That tension continued to build until I physically couldn’t take it anymore, pulling myself out of my seat. I stormed into my kitchen and threw open the fridge, looking at the contents inside.

It was a mixture of old and new, with leftovers and takeout dishes intermingled with fresh pouches of blood.

I grabbed one of the pouches, feeling a nauseous energy flow throughout me. Still, I was famished and these fun packs could only provide so much sustenance.

I tore off the stem with my teeth and tilted it back, taking large sips. I tried my very best to ignore the taste but there was only so much I could do with something that had such a potent and metallic flavour.

Still, I finished every last drop, tossing the empty bag into the trash.

There was then a ding from my computer, filling my stomach with a renewed fear. I swallowed it down but that only did so much good.

Reluctantly, I returned to my office and took a seat, willing myself to look at everything besides the monitor. But there was only so much I could look at before my eyes drifted towards the screen, noticing a returned email from another fragmented username.

I clicked on it and pre-emptively winced.

In that case, please take your medicine.

“Fuck,” I grunted.

A couple quick keystrokes brought about my reply.

Is there a way to continue working even while I’m under the weather? I would really like to see this project through before taking some bedrest.

It took maybe five seconds before a response came.

Feel free to pass this project along to me and I’ll ensure another of your colleagues can pick it up. Please take your medicine and get some rest or I might have to look into getting a doctor sent to your place.

Then to really make sure that I shit myself, they provided the full address for this apartment and also the addresses for both of my additional safehouses.

“Motherfuckers,” I grumbled to myself.

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a little plastic pill bottle. There was only a single capsule inside, jostling around in the hollow confines.

The rattle of it unnerved me.

I gritted my teeth together and popped it open, looking inside.

There it was. The pill that could kill me in a matter of seconds. It was eerie looking at it, knowing what exactly it would do to me.

Or not exactly.

Would it hurt?

Probably.

The vampires who were hit with silver seemed to scream bloody murder and I doubted that ingesting it made things any easier. It’d probably be like killing myself by drinking bleach, an incredibly unpleasant experience.

“God, you guys are such fucking asshole,” I growled to myself before my phone started to ring.

I glanced at it and saw that it came from an unknown number.

I rolled my eyes and let out a cruel note of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m killing myself. Could you please hold your fucking horses?”

Still, I placed the phone against my ear.

“What do you want?” I growled upon answering.

“You have a lot of nerve!” the voice on the other side boomed.

Only, it wasn’t the familiar voice of my handler.

Though it was still a familiar voice. Just familiar in a very different manner. The kind of familiar that made my already cold blood grow even colder.

“You,” I hissed.

“So, what?” she demanded, “Did you just go home and then decide to get a little revenge by going after the people I care about!?”

I blinked. “Pardon?”

“My club just got burned to the ground with everyone still inside,” the vampire hissed.

I shook my head. “I’ve been home all night trying to figure out how to kill myself. Why the fuck would I bother going after a bunch of strippers?”

“Because you’re pissed,” the vampire snarled.

I nodded. “I mean, yeah? But not really the kind of pissed off that would see me killing a whole bunch of innocent people.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that after what you did to Fredrich?” she asked.

I got up and made my way towards the door. If she was telling the truth, then I needed to see it for myself.

“You can believe whatever you want to believe,” I retorted. “I didn’t kill anyone who wasn’t already undead.”

I grabbed my coat and pulled it on. Though I soon realized how light it felt without any of my traditional weaponry. Not that I could ever use any of those weapons anymore. At least, not until some serious modifications were made to them.

Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” she asked. “One of your fellow hunters? I know you pathetic whelps are ruthless but…”

I hung up before another insult was hurled.

---

I paced around my apartment, looking out the window.

Recent events had seen me remove one of the pieces of paneling, giving me a view of the city. In the distance there was a glowing pyre and smoke billowing towards the heavens.

I bit my lip and looked down at my phone.

My current focus was upon the group chat with the other girls at the club. It had been a weekday but even still there would’ve been a couple of us working. A couple of us who were now absent from the conversation.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. “What happened?”

Chris: “The cops are saying that there was a shooting.”

Liz: “Did Philip owe money or something?”

Chris: “This is bad girls. Who was working tonight?”

I looked away from the app, trying my best to recall. Though thinking too hard about it made a hollow pit form in my long dead stomach.

“That cock sucking vampire hunter,” I growled.

Once more, I slammed the button to try and phone her. Though once again it went directly to a generic voicemail that I was sure was very rarely monitored.

Still, there was a catharsis involved.

“If I ever get my hands on you,” I growled. “You’re going to wish I killed you last night. I know ways to hurt you that you couldn’t possibly dream of, you wrecked spawn of low-grade prostitutes and inbred New England sailors. You…”

The voice mail beeped again, cutting me off.

I huffed and slammed the end call button before switching back to the group chat.

Kerry: “Has anyone heard from Jessica, she went radio silent after the news broke.”

Liz: “She should be home with her kid.”

Kerry: “Anyone wanna give her a call?”

Trish: “I will.”

Liz: “You’re the best, Trish.”

I punched in her number, trying my best to put on my most reassuring smile. It took everything I could do to bury away the last little toxic embers that seemed ready to ignite into another maelstrom of raw fury.

The phone rang once, twice, and thrice before someone on the other end picked up.

“Jessica?” I asked.

A male voice drew in a deep breath before chuckling. “Oh… it’s you.”

Then the call disconnected.

I looked at the phone and was left stunned by what had just unfolded. Part of me wanted to feel secure, knowing that she had a companion. Another part of me felt an unease at that voice.

It sounded familiar, scarily familiar.

I tried to recall where I had heard it before, trying to go over the few prior weeks of working at the club. You got to know the regulars after enough time, especially those who tipped well or were interested in purchasing some under the table services. But oddly, that voice didn’t remind me of any of those men.

It itched at an older part of my psyche.

Maybe it was someone from earlier in my life in this city? Maybe around the time I had first moved here from New York?

But still, that didn’t feel quite right. There were no employers or landlords who had a voice like that.

Older still?

How much older could I honestly get and…

Then it hit.

“No,” I whispered.

No way, there was no fucking way that it was him. I had seen that Priest slam a stack directly into his fucking heart. I had seen his coffin put in the ground and I had lingered for weeks to ensure that he stayed there.

Stayed dead.

“No, no, no,” I repeated.

I felt my skin somehow grow even colder, my flesh getting clammy even though such a thing was impossible.

I fell onto my couch, staring ahead wide-eyed.

There was no way it could be him.

But that voice…

At that moment, I was a scarred woman in her early twenties, again, attempting to ward off the advances of her husband.

At that moment, I was a scared wife who had just been effectively cut off from the world besides for that very same husband.

At that moment, I was a young vampire again with no other connection in the entire world and forced to rely upon such a vile man for survival.

A dozen bad memories came rushing back, many of them older than any mortal within this world. Many of them coming with a pain that was impossible to comprehend but seemed to fill every fibre of existence with nothing but misery and dread.

Then a dozen became two, then a hundred, then a thousand, the sheer volume nearly enough to overwhelm me.

“No,” I whispered. “It can’t be.”

I tried again, slamming in Jessica’s number for a second time as my hand was shaking.

The phone rang this time and continued to ring until an automated message kicked in. It wasn’t Jessica but a young child, giggling as she said her name and then repeated her mother’s.

Rachel.

What a strange way to learn Jessica’s real name.

I went over to the group chat, typing away with such fury.

Trish: “Hey does anyone know where Jess lives?”

There was a pause as several people started typing.

Liz: “Something the matter?”

Trish: “I hope not but she didn’t pick up her phone. Kind of nervous considering that she has a kid.”

Liz: “1108-712 Aberdeen Street. It’s one of those large skyscrapers.”

Trish: “Thanks Liz.”

I sighed and looked up towards the roof.

“If it is him…” I swallowed. “Which it probably isn’t.” Another deep breath. “But if it is… then you’ll need some help.”

But who could I possibly ask for help? Who could I possibly ask who actually knew what they were doing when it came to something like this? It’s not like I could go to another vampire, considering how I got rid of him in the first place. The only thing worse than a vampire hunter was a vampire who sold out to one of them.

Who sold out to one of them…

Then it clicked.

I sighed. “Fuck me.”

What were the chances that she’d actually answer my twelfth call?

“Hopefully she hasn’t offed herself yet,” I grumbled as I returned to my phone’s contact information.

---

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