I knew I was fucked the second I attempted to breach into the police frequencies, only to hear a wall of static coming through. I hoped that my phone was broken but as I looked at it, it seemed to be working just fine.

Next, I attempted to access the police archives only to discover a similar fate.

My bank account was also locked down, my login codes denied to me.

The efficiency that I was becoming an unperson was kind of amazing. It hadn’t even been an hour and they were already wiping any trace of me from their organization.

These setbacks could be reversed but at this moment they were an oppressive reminder of what I had in store for me.

I snorted and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

My tools may have been denied but my eyes, ears, and nose were still very adept at their job. I could see the smoke, smell it, and hear the sirens of a dozen emergency vehicles up ahead. This was more than enough to guide me forwards.

As I approached, I saw that quite the crowd had gathered against a police barricade. The strip club that I had attended only a few days prior was now a tinderbox, an inferno of oranges, yellows, and reds.

The fire department had given up on attempting to extinguish these flames. They were now focused on protecting the neighbouring properties, using their water to stop the fire from spreading.

I approached the barricade and kept my ear open, picking up on the various strings of conversations.

“I heard gunshots?”

“It was a strip club. I bet the owner owed money to…”

“Eh, nothing of value was lost.”

“Jesus Christ, Carl.”

A million rumours but very little concrete information to go off of. I grunted as I eased my way through the crowd, moving all the way to the barricade where a bored looking officer observed the people but made no move to usher them away.

His expression told me that this wasn’t his first time doing a similar job.

I reached into my wallet and scanned my fake IDs, pulling out the one I thought would work best.

“Victoria Chan, Channel 34 News,” I hollered, getting the officer’s attention. “What happened here?”

The officer gave me a look and rolled his eyes. “You’ll get all the information you need from tomorrow’s press briefing.”

“Come on, I’m freezing my ass out here, can’t you give me something?” I asked.

The officer snorted but didn’t budge.

“Come on bud, you and I both know that you want to get something off your chest,” I said. “Just a little rumour. That’s all I’m looking for.”

He frowned and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, it was the Yugoslavs.”

I whistled. “So, mob violence?”

“If you’d call them a mob,” he said. “More guns for hire.”

I nodded. “Have they been causing a lot of trouble in the city?”

“Reason they have a reputation,” the cop answered. “Now go away before some detective decides to fry my balls.”

I faked a salute and slinked back into the crowd, making my way towards the back of it.

My work often had me brushing up against the realm of law and order. I knew of the Yugoslav gangs but had never really encountered them in my line of work before.

It could’ve been purely a coincidence that this club had been selected. After all, while these establishments were legal, they did still toe a certain line that made them easy pray for something like this.

But still, I wasn’t fond of coincidences, wasn’t fond of them one bit.

My phone rang for probably the dozenth time that night and I saw that it was from the same unknown number that had left the previous eleven messages in my mailbox. I gritted my teeth together and actually picked up this time around.

“It was a criminal gang,” I explained.

The woman on the other side sucked in a breath.

There was a tick, a moment of silence.

“I see,” Beatrice said.

“I just thought I’d do the curtsy of clearing my own name,” I explained. “Anyways, I’m off to ingest some silver.”

“Wait,” she yelped. “I…”

I cocked a brow and stopped dead in my tracks.

“I need your help,” she explained.

I snorted. “You have a very strange view on human relationships, are you aware of that?”

Beatrice chuckled at this, genuinely snorted. “Yeah, I uh…” She sighed. “One of my coworkers isn’t responding to our group chats.”

I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off first.

“No, she did not work tonight,” Beatrice explained. “She was taking care of her daughter.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” I asked.

Beatrice made an indecisive noise before snorting. “Well, I believe that my vampiric ex-husband might be involved in some way and he is an extremely dangerous figure.”

I snorted. “Sounds like you have an excellent taste in men.”

For a moment, I thought that a fury would come through the phone. Instead, there was just a resigned sigh.

“You’re lucky,” was her only response.

“Why?” I asked, cocking a brow.

She chuckled darkly. “That you live in a time and place where the default is to assume that it was my taste in men and not what was forced upon me.”

I actually went silent at that, feeling a pang of something that might’ve been guilt. Still, it was enough to take the wind out of my aggravated sails.

The silence lingered and I started to work my jaw, flipping through the possibilities and angles for this request. If she wanted to kill me then there were more efficient ways of doing so as I was pretty much committed to taking my own life.

Maybe she wanted to pin a crime on me before I passed? A last little fuck you.

“Please,” Beatrice whispered. “I… I…” She growled. “I’m offering up a vampire to you, don’t you want to see our kind extinct?”

I couldn’t sense a lie within her voice, only a sheer and oppressive desperation. There was a chance she might’ve been a good actor but if she tricked me with this performance then she honestly deserved her prize.

“Where do you need me?” I asked.

Was I really about to do this?

She provided the address and I nodded to myself.

“I’ll be there shortly,” I said.

With that our call came to an end and I pulled the phone away from my ear. I wanted nothing more than to hurl it against the nearest building. I wanted nothing more than to shatter the last piece of property I legitimately owned.

I knew these feelings were self-destructive but it was so hard not to fall into their tempting embrace. There was a very convincing argument in favour of losing my shit right about now, a very convincing one indeed.

Then my phone buzzed and displayed a text that came from a number labelled ‘999-999-9999’ telling me that my accounts and assets had all been locked. As if I hadn’t already noticed that.

I gritted my teeth together and calmly slipped my phone back into my pocket.

“My grandfather worked with way less and got far more done,” I grumbled to myself, shaking my head as I stormed through the night. “Doesn’t mean I can’t do my fucking job.”

---

I paced back and forth through the little stretch of back alley, feeling a panic flare within my breast. It had been ages since I felt legitimate terror and if my heart would’ve still beat then it probably would’ve been hammering in my chest.

His voice filled my mind, that little snippet coming together with a cacophony of little horrors and terrors.

He wasn’t a good man, wasn’t anywhere close to decent, not even to his own fucking wife.

“He’s dead,” I hissed to no one in particular.

He was supposed to be.

I had witnessed his death, those memories practically seared into my memory.

“What the fuck?” I chuckled. “Am I going insane?”

Once more there wasn’t a voice around to comment on that development. Instead, I sighed and leaned against the wall, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my breast pocket.

I flipped it open and placed one between my lips, taking a nice long drag from it.

“Is not getting lung cancer one of the perks of being a vampire?” a familiar voice asked.

I perked up and looked towards her. Her expression was hard to read, avoiding much of the anger and repulsion she had earlier displayed. Instead, she merely looked cold.

Though I suppose that she was probably always cold.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

Christine snorted. “Lost my job, lost my friends, and now my former employer is probably sending out someone to hunt me down.”

“Sounds like a shit situation,” I said, nodding towards her. “You seem to be handling it like a champ though.”

I moved away from the wall and walked towards her, heading for the alley’s exit.

As I passed by, I could feel her sneering at me. Maybe this wasn’t the best material to build a relationship out of but at least she had come and that wasn’t nothing.

“So, tell me more about who the victims are?” she asked, following after me.

“One of the women I work with at the strip club. Her name is Jess,” I explained. “Nicest woman I know. She has a daughter who’s in grade school. Never met her myself.”

Christine nodded. “So, he probably went after them because hurting them would cause you duress?”

I sighed and tried my best not to flinch at that punch in the gut. “If I had to venture a guess.”

“And tell me about your husband?” Christine asked.

I snorted. “Ex-husband, thank you very much.”

“Ex-husband,” Christine corrected. “Tell me about him.”

“He’s a sadist who has been hunting people since at least the 17^th century,” I explained. “Came over to America in the early 19^th century and preyed upon the poor and weak of New York City. He did that until he’d accumulated enough money to move up to Albany where he met my family.”

We approached the apartment building where my imperiled colleague apparently lived. Just seeing it made a stiffness form within my gullet.

Christine moved towards the door and pulled a small kit out of her breast pocket. It took me only a moment to realize that it was a lockpicking set.

“A useful skill to have,” I quipped.

She smiled back. “It’s a lot easier than trying to find a proper key. Though let me tell you, nothings worse than hunting a vampire who lives in one of those expensive condos. Those key card readers are a massive pain in the ass to crack.” She motioned with her hand. “Not that I haven’t cracked them before but they take time.”

I snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever looking for an excuse to get away from my current place.”

She ignored me as she started to work, using two thin metal tools to quickly unlock the door and pull it open.

We soon slipped inside, making our way into the stairwell.

“I don’t like this,” Christine commented.

I nodded. “You’re not the only one.”

“Feels like we’re walking right into a trap,” Christine explained. “I usually like to have way more information before making a move like this.”

“Did you have a lot of information on me?” I asked.

Christine chuckled. “Turns out that you left enough of a digital fingerprint behind to make things somewhat easy. Not much but a few little threads that I managed to follow. After that it was all groundwork that helped fill in the blanks.” She glanced at me. “Your routine is beautiful by the way.”

I shook my head and tried not to shudder. “Well, if that isn’t a horrifying thing to hear out loud. Glad that I had such a tender stalker coming after me.”

“Stalker is such a rude term,” she replied.

I made no further contribution to this train of thought.

We made it to the landing for the eleventh floor and approached the door to Jessica’s apartment. My stomach clenched and blood ran cold as I noticed that the door was already slightly ajar.

I moved towards it and pushed inside. Though I promptly reeled as a powerful scent slammed into me.

Christine was right behind me, gagging as the smells hit her as well.

The room was covered in a shroud of red, blood splattered upon every surface. This had not been some mere feeding but something far worse, far more intense. This was an act of brutality. An act which was meant to send a message.

And the message was received as I felt my knees weaken and the wind knocked out of me. It took everything I had not to crumple over.

“Jesus Christ,” Christine whispered.

She barely flinched as she pushed inside of the apartment, using her phone as a flashlight. Her foot collided with something and she paused, looking down and spotting what appeared to be a gory piece of what may have once been an arm.

Though it was hard to tell.

“I’ve never…” she began.

I stepped in myself, trying my best to stay composed.

“Something this brutal?” I asked, shaking my head. “That was Gregory’s way. Like I said, he was a sadist.”

“No kidding,” Christine murmured.

I glanced into the kitchen, spotting blood and gore plastered upon the tiles, fridge, and every surface imaginable.

There was also an envelope placed upon the stove, in one of the few spots that hadn’t been utterly submerged in red. I approached it without thought, needing to know what it said. There had to be a reason for it being there; had to be a reason it had been left in such a pristine state.

“Fuck,” Christine whispered.

I ignored what she was looking at, unable to bring myself to do so. Instead, I reached the oven and picked up the letter.

It was marked with a beautiful and old fashioned handwriting, the kind I had known intimately during my first couple decades of life.

To Beatrice

I gritted my teeth together and turned it over, noticing that there was a wax seal closing the envelope. A wax seal that I instantly recognized. A wax seal that had been unknown to this world for at least a hundred years. It was the seal of my family, of my father and grandfather.

It was the seal that had marked the document that sold me to my departed husband.

One woman was worth quite the dowery it turned out.

It took every last ounce of willpower for me to crack open the envelope and peer inside. Though I managed to do so, peeling back the fold.

Obviously, there was just a letter within. So, I pulled it out and unfolded it. Like before it was penned in a very familiar and elegant handwriting.

Dearest Beatrice,

Do you remember New York?

I can only hope that you do, considering how far you have fled to be away from there. The West Coast wasn’t much to look at during our time together but it is nice to see that it has caught up with the rest of our fair nation.

Anyways, I’ll keep this letter simple.

You attempted to take my life. In any rational world, you would’ve succeeded. I am not sure by what means that I am still alive. I can promise you that. All I know is that I am still very much alive.

Maybe it’s the devil needing a pawn or maybe the fire within me simply burned brighter than the divinity of the stake embedded in my chest.

Regardless of how I remain alive, I am going to let you know that I am not the kind of person to let a slight go ignored. You’ve wronged me, my dear, wronged me more than any person alive or dead. You attempted to stab me, YOUR HUSBAND, in the back and you very nearly succeeded.

I might not have been the kindness of men but to do such a thing is beyond redemption on your part.

As such, you and I are going to engage in a blood feud, like the kind that the great European dynasties used to build and destroy themselves upon.

I am going to pick apart your life piece by FUCKING piece. I’ve already taken your job and many of your friends. I know where the others reside and I’m sure one of them will inevitably betray your location to me.

One by one your safety net and community will be burned to the ground, salted like Carthage, plundered like Rome.

Then, when nothing remains, I will show you what happens to women who forget their station.

Yours Forever,

And Ever,

And Ever,

Gregory

I drew in a shaky breath and tensed by hand, crushing the letter within it. I could feel a panic flaring within me. It threatened to knock me to my knees.

As I glanced over my shoulder, I noticed that Christine was studying me.

Like before her expression was so aloof, just impossible for me to decipher. At that moment, this was the most irritating thing I could possibly imagine.

“What?” I snarled.

Christine looked away. “We should probably get out of here. I found Jess’ phone and it was connected to 911.”

My eyes widened and I simply nodded, not trusting my voice.

Christine walked towards the window and looked out. “Shit… there’s already a car outside.”

She pushed away and moved towards the hallway once again, opening the door and peering out.

“Shit,” she whispered. “They’re already in the hall.”

I nodded and let out a cruel note of laughter. “If only we could actually turn into bats.”

“It’d be nice,” Christine added.

I sighed and looked at her. “I’m afraid there is only one way out of this situation.”

“I’m not killing them,” Christine replied.

“They might see our faces if we try to run,” I hissed. “Do you really want to have your complexion plastered upon every billboard in the city?”

She tensed and worked her jaw. For a moment, I thought she might’ve legitimately wanted something like that. For a moment, it nearly seemed like her sanctity for mortal life would overcome common sense and reason.

Then she looked off to the side and beamed. “Balcony.”

So yes, common sense had been tossed to the wayside.

My gaze followed hers and spotted the balcony as well. Without a word, she was already moving towards it and pulling aside the sliding glass door.

There was a knock at the apartment’s other door. It was light, testing, and inquiring.

“This is the police,” a voice came through. “Are you in need of assistance?”

I gritted my teeth and followed Christine.

“How far can we fall?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve never really tested my limits. I’ve jumped off of five stories before and was fine.”

“And this is eleven?” she whispered under her breath.

Without warning, Christine flung herself over the railing and launched herself into the air. She careened through it, flailing her arms out as if she could actually grab a hold of something that wasn’t air.

Her bravery was impressive, even I could concede this point.

There was another knock at the door, harder this time. “It’s the police! Please open up.” Then a pause. “You’re not in trouble.”

Oh, but we were or we would be if we were caught. After all, my fingerprints were plastered upon many crime scenes and I had no doubt that a few of Christine’s lingered as well.

There was a heavy thud and I looked down at the pavement. It would seem that my new associate had eaten shit upon impact. But still, she peeled herself away from the pavement and looked up at me, offering what I could only imagine was a thumbs up.

“Crazy woman,” I whispered.

I then joined the insane as I threw myself over the railing as well.

---

Visit my website to see where else to find my work, join my Discord, or support me on Patreon!