Three Tales of Vampires (The First Three Books in the Tale of Vampires Series)
Page 1
Murderous Little Darlings
A Tale of Vampires – Book 1
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I: Murderous Little Darlings
II: The Blood and the Raven
III: Innocent While She Sleeps
Books by the same author
FICTION
Dark Winter (I): The Wicca Circle (2013)
Stormling (Book One of the Mordana Chronicles) (2014)
Dark Winter (II): Crescent Moon (2014)
Murderous Little Darlings: A Tale of Vampires: I (2014)
The Blood and the Raven: A Tale of Vampires: II (2015)
Innocent While She Sleeps: A Tale of Vampires: II (2015)
Dream the Crow’s Black Dream: A Tale of Vampires: IV (2015)
The Ghost of Normandy Road: Haunted Minds: I (2015)
Clara’s Song: Haunted Minds: II (2015)
NON-FICTION
The Essence of Martial Arts (2011)
The Essence of Martial Arts: Revised Edition (2012)
The Essence of Martial Arts: Special Edition (2013)
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Copyright
Copyright © 2014 John Hennessy
Cover and back design © Images courtesy of Depositphotos.com
Typography © John Hennessy
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without the permission in writing from its publisher, John Hennessy.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2014.
Text copyright John Hennessy 2014
The right of John Hennessy to be identified as the author of this work is asserted by him.
ISBN-13: 978-1493622368 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1493622366
A CIP Catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade of otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, John Hennessy.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
About The Author
I’ve always enjoyed reading stories, and when I was at school I would spend many a lunchtime in the library. If I completed one shelf, I would go work through another.
I often found the books in the school library were more interesting that the books we would read as part of English class. Still, it was a delight to read a wide genre even back then, and the books that were my favourites growing up as a child, remain amongst my favourites as an adult.
Murderous Little Darlings: A Tale of Vampires I is the fourth fiction book I have had published.
To readers of this story:-
Thanks very much for purchasing Murderous Little Darlings. I hope you enjoy the story, and do let me know, as I love to hear from fellow readers.
You can contact me here:-
●http://www.johnhennessybooks.blogspot.co.uk/
●http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6869934.John_Hennessy
●https://www.facebook.com/john.hennessy.94009
Table of Contents
Contents
Table of Contents
Copyright
First_Kill
Grave_Error
Now You See Me
On the Run
Cemtery Gates
Where Angels are Made, not Born
Dedication
Dedicated to all those who love a good vampire story; who hid under the bed when the Twilight Zone was on television, and when Tales of the Unexpected hit you with something unexpected.
To my own murderous little darlings, Angel (Marcus), Gui-Gui (Rocco), and Java (Juliana), who will always do what they want to do.
Murderous Little Darlings
First Kill
With two specimens of the undead either side of her, Juliana knew there was no escape. Kill the one they had selected for her, or be killed, and become one of them. What had the neighbours in the road called them, back when their childhood pranks were just that? Eggs thrown at the front door, maybe a small stone hurled at a window. Nothing major. No biggie. Nothing to write home about.
That was until the stones got larger, and one, hurled through a window, cracked Old Nellie Hall’s skull right open, right in front of her grandchildren. On her 90th birthday, no less.
Protecting his young sister, Marcus admitted it was his fault, even though Juliana had thrown the rock, albeit under duress from her brothers.
Oh yes, she remembered what the locals called them now. Murderous Little Darlings. They had the faces of angels, but possessed the very souls of the Devil. Their mother’s human existence ended the moment she had been made one of the undead. She, in turn, had died giving birth to them. Marcus had fully embraced his vampire side from the moment he was born. He was the oldest of the triplets by a full hour.
Rocco was the second eldest, and had fought the temptation all of his life. Then one day, Marcus finally broke him.
That just left Juliana.
Despite her protestations to the contrary, Marcus told her that We are what we are, and we do what we do. But Marcus was just six years old when he made his first kill, a Mr Eric Mitchell, who was eighty-seven years old at the time of death. The marks on his neck healed up instantly once Marcus had drank his fill. At six years of age, who could possibly point the finger at Marcus? In any case, as Marcus put it, ‘At eighty-seven years old, whatever you died of, it’s natural causes anyway.’
The very next day, Marcus put a football through an open garage door, knocking over Mr Hill.
“You little devil,” he screamed. “When I get hold of you, I’ll murder you.”
“Not if I get you first,” Marcus retaliated.
So as not to arouse suspicion, Marcus left it a week. Then, taking Rocco along with him, he woke Mr and Mrs Hill whilst they slept in their beds, and bludgeoned them both with a mallet almost too big for them to hold in their hands.
“Do it now, Rocco, sink your teeth in hard before they die. They weren’t much use in life to anyone anyway, and – what the hell is this? Where do you think you’re going?”
Mrs Hill had escaped from her bed and ran down the stairs screaming, clutching the back of her head to stop her brains from falling out.
“Rocco, take him good. I’ll go after her.”
Rocco pinned Mr Hill down. It was easy, because the old man was paralysed with fear. With his brother chasing a frantic Mrs Hill to her doom, Rocco paused. It hurt when he had bitten people before. His fangs weren’t fully formed, although Marcus promised that with each kill, they would get strong
er.
Okay. There was time to do this. Rocco leaned back, bared his teeth, and sank them into Mr Hill’s throat. The contact wasn’t all that great, and bits of hair from Mr Hill’s neck found their way between the gaps in Rocco’s mouth. It wasn’t a good taste. Rocco didn’t understand or truly share his older brother’s bloodlust. But if he didn’t do the job properly, Mr Hill would die an even more unpleasant death. Marcus would see to that.
So Rocco wrapped a small arm around Mr Hill’s neck and placed the bite as hard as he could. The skin punctured better this time, just as Marcus promised it would. Marcus was always right. Marcus always looked out for his little brother.
Rocco drank his fill, the taste of so much blood all at once leaving him dizzy, and Mr Hill limply collapsed on the bed, his outstretched hands almost touching the floor. Rocco did feel a pang of remorse, then scratched the thought from his head. Such thoughts would make Marcus angry. And you wouldn’t want to make Marcus angry.
There they were, Mr Hill, now the extremely deceased Mr Hill in one corner of the room, and Rocco, just days before his seventh birthday, in the other. He sucked his thumb like he was a toddler once more, as it gave him some comfort. The triplets still aged, for they were not fully-fledged members of the undead.
Downstairs, Marcus could be heard crashing into things. Or maybe, he was crashing Mrs Hill into things. To Marcus, such details weren’t important. The big details, such as the hunt, and the eventual kill, that was all that mattered.
Rocco sucked harder on his thumb as the crashes got louder. He didn’t like the wails and screams from Mrs Hill, who was begging for her life. Marcus did enjoy the victim’s futile attempts to save themselves, even though the outcome was always the same.
“They struggle when you hold them down, and maybe, sometimes they get away from you, but not for long, and they never, ever live to tell who and what hunted them. There’s something else in our favour too, little brother. The world just doesn’t believe in vampires.”
“You’re sure?” inquired Rocco, a desperate expression on his face. “I mean, you’re absolutely sure of this? We’re vampires? We have to feed on humans to survive?”
Marcus shook his head, unable to mask his disappointment in his brother. “That brain deserves to exist in a better body than yours, Rocco. My, what a dreary way to describe our existence. No! We feed on humans to live! You should embrace the life, as I do, brother!”
Rocco just didn’t get the same sense of joy that Marcus got from killing. He wasn’t alone in thinking like that, and yet, Rocco sensed that his sister Juliana would soon be coerced to join in the life.
His thoughts were shattered by a piercing shout from downstairs. “Rock! Get your thumb out of your ass and get down here now!”
Rocco collected himself from the heap on the floor and, frantic as he was to get downstairs, he knocked over a photo on the bed stand of a young couple, perhaps the Hills’ children. He’d know for sure soon enough if they ever came looking.
“My thumb wasn’t in my ass.”
“Might have well have been,” said Marcus. “Or perhaps you were sucking on your thumb again, like the ickle baybee that you are.”
“Don’t call me that,” said Rocco. “I’m older than Julie.”
“Yeah, well, you had better starting acting like you’re older than Joo-lee, otherwise….well…you know the consequences. I need to know that you’re on my side.”
Time and again, Juliana had disobeyed Marcus’ order to join them on the hunt. For this latest act of defiance, she was locked in the wardrobe, and had been in there for two whole days. Rocco, terrified of enclosed spaces and his brother, agreed to go on the night’s hunt in her place.
Mrs Hill whimpered on the floor, and Marcus lightly kicked her body with kicks regular-as-clockwork.
“Is she going to die?” asked Rocco.
“Hmmph!” grunted Marcus. “I suppose you think she was actually living? No, brother, she’s already dead. Husband barely recognises her or himself, and the kids, especially the grandkids, as they never visit. She may be breathing, but she’s been dead a long time, actually. We’re just taking care of the nasty side of business. I find this such a thankless task. No-one will ever understand our work on this Earth.”
Rocco wanted to say that he could not drink anymore, but by doing so, Marcus would force Juliana into the game. Although being locked in the wardrobe used to be a game, it was now more of a punishment. Rocco had been placed in solitary confinement once before, and he was so delirious with hunger he fed on the first thing his bleary eyes lay sight on. From that day on, Marcus had convinced Rocco that he was a vampire.
The dizzy hit from the blood of Mr Hill told its own story. Marcus did what he always did, and took the situation into his own hands.
Walking across the road to their home, which was surrounded by tall gunmetal gates, their foundations buried deep in the ground, he walked up the stairs to one of the unused bedrooms, and unlocked the wardrobe door, the top of which was almost three times his own height.
“Juliana? Julie?”
No answer. Marcus felt his heart quicken, uncomfortable with the anguish he may have caused her. Had she been left on her own for far too long?
“Julie? Joo-leee!!”
Marcus stood back from the wardrobe and surveyed the darkness. He observed some scratch marks on the inside the door, and with closer inspection, he could make out what could only be Juliana’s fingernails embedded in the wood. The flaky bits of nail could not have belonged to Rocco, because he always bit his nails down to the stub.
“Juliana?”
Somewhere, amidst the darkness that had taken up happy residence within the wardrobe, a bloody hand grabbed at Marcus’ neck and pulled him inside. He was thrown at breakneck speed towards the back of the wardrobe, and only stopped when his head connected hard, dulling his senses on impact.
He knew the wardrobe was huge. He’d spent time with Rocco playing the game but it would always be safe as one of them would be on the outside whilst the other was locked on the inside. In those playful times, the heart would quicken as the last sliver of light disappeared, and the door would slam shut. For added effect, Rocco would turn the key in the lock, and with it, would disappear any chance of escape for Marcus.
In the darkness which enveloped him like a shroud, along with the silence that joined it in happy unison, he would wait. Of course, the first plea to be let out would be ignored. That was part of the game. The second plea would be ignored too, even though Rocco could hear the banging.
That too, was part of the game. Although for Marcus, the length of time between the first set of bangs and the second became more uncomfortable, to the point that he informed Rocco that he would be the one playing the game if the rules weren’t adhered to. Of course, these rules were the kind that Marcus dictated, and could change at any time.
Rocco had reluctantly agreed, because there was no disagreeing with Marcus. After a pre-agreed period of time, the lock would make that reassuring clicking sound, and Marcus would be free. Then Rocco would take his place in the dark, never-ending wardrobe. Marcus always said the time was the same, but it wasn’t. He’d keep Rocco in there just that little while longer. After all, time has no meaning in the dark.
This time though, he had misjudged things terribly. He knew Juliana would be unnerved, perhaps to the point of a heightened sense of terror. But he just wanted to teach her a lesson, that’s all.
Now, it was he who found himself locked in the wardrobe. The turn of the key had been decisive. Juliana was seriously pissed off. The force with which she ripped the key from the lock made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
She’d come back soon though. She wouldn’t leave him in there indefinitely.
Surely?
Beyond the confines of his imprisonment, there was complete silence. On those previous occasions where they had played the game, Marcus had noticed how the air was literally sucked out of that space once the door was cl
osed. Rocco had mentioned it too, but it didn’t seem so terrifying back then.
Okay. So Juliana wasn’t going to answer. Marcus had to hope that Rocco would at least come to the aid of his brother.
It was hard to tell with any certainty how much time had passed, but Marcus decided he had had enough, and banged, kicked, shunted the wardrobe for all he was worth. The wardrobe refused to budge.
“Piss!!!!” screamed Marcus. “I will piss all over you when I get hold of you Julie!”
He sank to his knees, before experiencing a moment of clarity. The Dark One could do it. After all, he had the power. He was the one who gave them the power in the first place. The one who made them.
“Dark Lord, I serve you in all and everything. I ask only for the freedom to do your will.”
Silence.
“I will sacrifice Juliana for you. She will not become one of the undead. She will die. I will commend her soul to the black earth.”