Saturday, November 26, 2011

52 Week Short Story Writing Challenge - #3

    I'm feeling really uninspired at the moment but here I go... 

Short Story #3: Kin
 It wasn't the first time.
    Melanie walked across the street, her flashlight washing over the still-warm body. The others would be here soon, to clean up the mess before someone could tell the cops. The vampire was messy, leaving deep puncture wounds all over the girl's body. Her hair was wet with dark liquid and the scent of  it was almost too powerful for Melanie. She couldn't afford to lose control; being a vampiress in a society of vampire hunters was risky but made her an unlikely target.
     Crouching down, Melanie ran the tip of her finger down the side of the deceased girl's face, remembering her from Sydney University. The dark alley stank with the undertone of death; the girl's perfume was the only pleasant scent. Carefully Melanie stood, grabbing the girl's bracelet from the ground. Her address was etched into the back with her parent's names; the least Melanie could do was to send them the last possession the girl would own.
     Movement in the shadows by a nearby dumpster caught Melanie's eye and she got out the gun from its holster around her waist. Clasping one hand around the gun and the other supporting her wrist, she crept forward. There was little light and the houses on either side were dark with people sleeping inside but her eyes adjusted, pupils constricting into slits. Her nails, perfectly manicured in human form, became long claws with razor-sharp edges. The familiar pin-pricks of fangs were sharp against her bottom lip, her sense of smell intensified until she could smell the almost-human tang of the vampire awaiting her.
     She shoved the gun in its holster was the vampire jumped her, sending them both sprawling across the ground. The breath was knocked from her, white skin flush with black liquid that was her blood. The vampire tried to rip her heart out but only managed to get a handful of purple silk shirt, the buttons clattering as they broke. Her black singlet suffered some tear marks but nothing happened to her skin. She flipped up onto her feet, discarding the silk to the side as the cold night washed against the bare skin that her singlet didn't reach.
     "What are you doing here?" the vampire hissed. He circled her, moving with predatory grace. "Traitor!" He spat at her feet. She rolled her eyes, tossing her black hair over one  shoulder.
     "What do you think I'm doing?" she replied. "I'm getting rid of low-life scum like you! Why did you kill this girl? If you just joined the good ways - "
     "And do what?" He glared at her, eyes black from under a thick fringe of curly black hair. "What sort of existence would I lead then? For what purpose? They are our stock, free for the taking. They are so oblivious to us, with their flashy cars and million-dollar houses. We don't need them to be like that. We will take them over."
     Melanie narrowed her eyes at him and her dainty fangs shot down another inch. "Don't speak of the Uprising; it will never happen!"
     "Oh, but dear sister, it already is." And he leaped. It was only a millisecond before she had the stake out of her waistband and was positioning it before he descended. His scream was pure rage, billowing waves of hatred as the hawthorn pierced his heart. He turned to ash before her, whipping her hair back from the blast of energy. She collapsed to her knees, wiping the inky ash from the stake onto the ruined silk shirt on the ground. Her body was ringing with pain, a vulnerability that came from succumbing to sources of animal blood.
     She looked up at the sky, tears streaming. "That, my dear brother, is what I consider a higher purpose. Ridding the world of foul creatures like you." And she stumbled out of the alley.

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