As I was pondering, he took a pause in his rambling speech, probably catching on that I wasn’t paying attention. I really couldn’t kill him, but I made myself look deeply at his now red eyes and fangs. I searched for a glimpse of the Kevin I knew, but saw nothing. I would have to kill him—this wasn’t Kevin. I would have to kill this thing—or get killed in the process. It’s what the real Kevin would have wanted me to do.
“Why are you thinking so intensely?” he asked. “Are you wondering why you’re still alive and the rest are not?” I nodded my head at his question. “Well, you see, my master told me I could only have one of you, and must kill the rest, to cleanse all the sins we had caused. So, of course, I picked you. You’re much better skilled than the rest of them put together, and once I turn you, I can have you as MINE—for eternity,” he said proudly, and any pity I had for him ended there. He wanted me as property, because of my skills, not because he had loved me.
“I won’t make it painful, I promise. I’ve already drained so much out of the rest of them that I’m not even the least bit hungry,” he said. What the hell am I going to do? I thought. I glanced around the room, looking for the stake I had in my hand before I passed out. My eyes found it in the corner—on the floor on the opposite side of the bed that Carrie lay on. “I know you’re confused now,” he said, “but it’ll all be over soon and you’ll understand…” He then rushed towards my neck.
“No!” I screamed, and he paused. “Not here, I mean…” Shit, what could I say? This would be my only break, if he complied. “On the bed, like you did Carrie. It looked like it would be fun to have you on top, riding me as you change me,” I said, with a pause as I stared deeply into his red eyes. He luckily bought it.
“That’s an excellent idea…” He threw Carrie’s body on the floor, and ripped off my top. He then threw me onto the bed, where Carrie’s body had just laid.
I pretended that his throw was much rougher, bouncing off the bed and onto the floor on the opposite side, where I knew the stake lay. Grabbing it quickly, hoping he didn’t notice, I slid it into my back pocket. I gave him my best bedroom eyes—under the circumstances—and made sure, as I walked back to the bed, that he couldn’t see what was now in my back pocket.
He must have not seen, because he ripped off his clothes and jumped onto the bed, waiting for me. I jumped on top of him and licked my fingers, gently teasing his neck where the scars were from his master’s mark. He let out a deep moan from the sensation, and for a second, closed his eyes. I grabbed the stake from my pocket and drove it into his chest, where the heart I used to love once lived. He opened his eyes in horror as his body began to tremble.
“Why…?” he mumbled as I jumped off of him. “I was going to make us live forever, and be strong…” My eyes began to water as I slid back against the bedroom wall and watched him wretch in pain as he died, like so many vamps we had killed before. It felt like hours, but realistically was probably minutes, before his body began to turn to black, until it collapsed into black ash before my eyes. I forcefully made my legs stand, even though they were trembling, and went to the bed to grab my stake from the pile of ashes, letting my wet tears hit the dust. I heard a slight rustle in the hallway as I gripped the stake. I ran into the hall and towards whatever it was, screaming. I couldn’t take much more, but as I sped into the hallway, all that was there was a scared-looking pug with his tail down, between his legs. It looked as sad as my heart felt. I picked him up, and we left.
As I walked into my car with the dog, I tried to think back to what Alice had called him, but his name wouldn’t come to my memory. I decided to call him Duke, and he, to this day, is my only remembrance of my undead hunting family. As I drove away from the scene, I remembered swearing to never join a hunting party again. I didn’t think I would be able to get through losing that many people that I loved, again.
Chapter 5
Witching Hour
For four months, I moped around. All I did was exercise, eat, and watch movies with Duke. I stayed away from people in general, until I got the ‘past due’ notice for my rent. Apparently, the funds I had gotten from my grandmother had run out, meaning I would have to get a job. I searched Monster and luckily landed a job at an advertising firm. With this new job, I thought I could really start living my life again. My salary would be enough to live out my normal, human life ‘happily’ and pay the bills. With this job, I vowed to try to live my life like a normal person. I finally opened my eyes to see that the way I had been living for the past few months was not normal or healthy. People needed some type of human interaction in this world to be normal, right?
My first day at the agency was basically all smiles, introductions, and going over policies and procedures. I tried to remember the vow I had made. This could really be it; I could be normal, I remember thinking.
Looking back now, I think, deep down, I knew I could never be satisfied with any normal job. There was no thrill or rush, like when staking a vampire in the heart or watching a surprised werewolf’s eyes before you cut off its head. There wouldn’t be satisfaction from knowing you just saved hundreds of lives by killing this one undead. Uhhhh, to remember the rush, and then the wave of ease once they were ashed.
But I was naïve and thought I no longer needed that rush. I thought I could quit, and hell, it had been four months and two weeks since I’d killed an undead, so I thought I could stop my habit.
When five o’clock came around, I was ready to wipe the smile off my face and hit the gym. The gym was how I tried to replace my previous hobby. I’d thought that since smokers could substitute their addiction with food, I could substitute mine with a gym membership. I would hit it hard at the gym—on the machines for two hours. Then, I’d end my workout with a twenty-minute sprint on the treadmill, or occasionally, a thirty-lap swim. Basically, I would work my body until I could no longer move so that, if the urge came up to hunt, I would be too tired to do it. It worked good for a while, but eventually my body adapted.
I had just finished at the gym. Walking home, I had a craving for what I thought was ice-cream. The ice-cream shop by my house wouldn’t fill my craving, because it didn’t have the flavor I wanted. Because of this, I had to go to the one that was ten blocks away. I justified it, but I really should have thought about what I was actually doing, which was walking ten blocks out of my way, to an ice-cream place that was in a less populated, less lighted part of the city full of dark alleys. Hell, I don’t think I would have even made it there in time before they closed their doors, because it was already 9:20 and they closed at 9:30. My head was so focused on getting the better flavor of ice-cream that I couldn’t see any other options.
As I walked the blocks, I recall watching as the stores started to shut their lights off and the owners locked their doors. This didn’t, of course, make me turn around, because the craving was much too intense. Three blocks away from the parlor, my ears picked up the sound of what I was really looking for…a confrontation.
I heard, what seemed to be, a fight breaking out in an alley. There were four voices, and three of them seemed to be provoking one. I would have shook this off as just a normal human brawl, but my ears caught phrases such as, “I can’t wait to drain you” and “You’re a disgrace to our world.”
I grabbed two stakes from my gym bag. No matter what I was doing, I kept a few handy. Just because I had vowed to give up hunting, didn’t mean the undead didn’t exist anymore. I knew they were out there, and if I ever did get attacked, I wanted to live, obviously. I had told myself that that was the only reason why I had them. With my two stakes in hand, I crept slowly to where I thought the shouting came from. I peeked down the alley, and sure enough, three sets of red eyes, all different shades, weirdly, were holding down one non-red-eyed woman against the wall. They started to argue over which one got to go first. The one with the darkest shade of eyes was winning the argument, because he was, obviously, the most superior of the group.
“I’m going to make this e
xtremely painful for you, bitch.” He smiled, letting out a low ‘purr’ before going for the kill.
“I don’t think so, freak,” I shouted.
“HAHA,” they all laughed.
“Is this a joke? Someone who you haven’t stabbed in the back is coming for your rescue, witch?” one of them said to the woman against the wall. “Hold her, while I take care of this pest. And don’t you dare let her get near her things, lift her hands, or utter a word!” He turned to me, and seemed to ready himself for, what he thought, would be an easy strike.
It had been months since I’d hunted, but I felt ready. My heart pumped, and I felt my body tingle as the rush set in. He came straight on, at lightning speed, which was a huge mistake on his part. I let his arms slightly brush me as I fell to the ground, to let him think he had pushed me to the ground. I was stake-ready, on the ground, as I watched him spring off the wall to jump back on me. He had his fangs out and his eyes were glaring. Seconds before he landed, I brought my stake up and pushed it straight through his heart. I glared at his bulging, shocked eyes as his body collapsed onto mine, with only the stake keeping us from being a vampire-human sandwich. He tried to utter something, but all I got was a whiff of his toxic, road kill-like breath. His eyes and mouth finally closed, letting me know it was time to push him off. He was heavy, but thanks to my gym visits, I was able to slide him off my body. My legs stood up, and I took a deep breath to relax my shaking legs. Guess I wasn’t completely ready for that about-to-die feeling. With my last stake, I headed down to the rest, who were hissing, with wide eyes of interest and utter shock. They were fairly new vampires, with one pair of eyes being bright, blood-red, and the other a crayola-red.
They stared at each other, not sure of what to do. It took them about three seconds, and they let go of the victim and sprinted down the alley. The victim they had held, raised her hands, muttered something, and seemed to fling invisible poison at the two sprinting vampires. They fell to the ground and screamed, like pigs on their way to the slaughter house. Their bodies started convulsing, until they both exploded, like they’d just reached their boiling point. The victim, who I knew now was a witch, turned to me.
“Shit,” I muttered out loud.
“Thank you, vampire hunter,” she said calmly.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Fear not,” she said, probably sensing my nerves, or just reading my face. “You have saved my life, and since I find no interest in using humans for my—let’s say—extracurricular activities, you are in no harm. Is this your first witch encounter?” she asked.
“Well, kind of. It’s the first time I’ve seen one use a spell, and the first time that one wasn’t working for the vampires,” I answered honestly.
“Ha, well, that statement is not entirely true, for I have worked for vampires and werewolves, but only when it convenienced me in a certain way. That’s why they were after me tonight. They seemed to think I betrayed them in some way, said I was ‘playing both sides.’ But I only play one side, and it’s my own. They didn’t seem to like that answer. You could say, this isn’t the first time this has happened, but I’m usually more prepared,” she said.
“I see,” I said, not sure of what to say. She was a witch who must have played on all sides of the undead war. The vampires and werewolf were always fighting for more power or growth, so that’s probably what she meant by playing on both sides. So she had no loyalty. This could be a good or bad thing. I felt the need to trust her, but how could I? She was an undead.
“I can sense you’re struggling with something, probably about my character. But I think we can come up with a certain arrangement that will help both parties. I have never worked with an undead hunter, but it surely could have its benefits. Seeing how I have accumulated so many enemies, and you like to kill undeads, we could make this work.” She smiled.
“I will not be your hit man,” I told her.
“Well, you see, that’s not exactly what I’m saying. You’re not really looking at this the right way. Hm, let me ask you this: You believe all vampires and werewolves are evil beings who kill innocent victims and children all the time, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered, knowing she added ‘children’ for effect.
“Well, since you kill them anyway why would it matter if I benefited from it?” she asked, having a valid point. “You see, I’m not evil, but I like to maintain a large and plentiful client-base, and to do this, I have to work all the sides. And quite frankly, you have just saved my life, so I owe you the gratitude of such things, like healing spells, so that when you hunt, if you make a mistake, it wouldn’t cost you your life. I could also possibly give you some amulets so that you would be able to tell when the undeads are near, what they are, and even what level they’re ranked. You also need some decent stakes,” she said, looking down at the stake that was still in my hand. “Most seriously skilled undead hunters have much higher quality. I have stakes that can kill in seconds, instead of minutes. Wouldn’t it be convenient to not have to wait around forever for a vampire to ash? It’s a win-win, the way I look at it.”
“Yes, it seems to be.” I smiled, knowing she was correct. I could use the extra help she could give me, but what if she gave me up to them? I wondered. Because if an undead ever knew who I was, there would be a hunt, until I lay slayed. “How do I know that if, to say, one of your business associates wants a slayer dead, you won’t sell me out?” I asked.
“That is a good question, and one I didn’t expect you to ask, so I’ll be honest. The thought crossed my mind as I was thinking what to offer you, but honestly, I’ve weighed out the options in my head. You are much more valuable to me alive. Once we take the vow, you’ll feel better, and we’ll have to trust each other. The vow I plan for us to make, if broken, the betrayer dies,” she said, making this vow not sound so pleasant after all, but hell, I couldn’t stop hunting after the rush I felt tonight. Without a hunting party, I would need all the help I could get.
“Let’s get on with this vow then,” I said, and with that, she grabbed my hand and placed it to her neck, and I then felt her other hand in mine.
“Repeat after me, ‘thou shalt never betray, or they will not live another day,’” she said. I repeated the words and we released our hands.
“Now, follow me back to my shop, and I’ll get you all geared up.” She chuckled. “By the way, my name is Claire,” she said as she stuck out her hand.
“Hi Claire, I’m Caylee.” I took a second, as I shook her hand, to really get a good look at her. She looked nothing like an evil witch from a children’s book. She had blond, wavy hair that settled just on top of her slender shoulders. She had dark, forest-green eyes and a small nose that had tiny, brown freckles on top of it. This was above two slim lips that were currently set in a perfect smile. She had a petite, slender physique, and stood about six inches shorter than me.
“Now that we are properly introduced, let’s go to my shop.” She smirked and turned around, motioning me to follow. Claire knew she had won. I couldn’t say ‘no’ anymore—I was way past that option. Why would I want to anyway? I would be given the knowledge and tools to further develop my skills in my hunting. I knew, in some way, it was wrong, because no one should benefit from my hunting, aside from humans. I threw that thought to the back of my mind, swearing to pull it up and think about it later, but I never did, justifying that it was okay to be selfish once in a while.
Chapter 6
Ice-Cream Shop
Whether it was a coincidence or fate, I still don’t know. At the time, I thought it was a coincidence, but looking back, I would now argue that it was fate, considering that her ‘shop’ was right next to the ice-cream shop I had wanted to go to. She put her keys in the door, double-checked our surroundings, and let me in. As soon as I stepped in, she locked the door and let out a deep sigh.
“It’s not much, but it pays the bills,” she said as I glanced around. It
was a head shop. There were pipes, bongs, “cigarette rollers,” concealers, and images of the magic, green plant everywhere. All the normal things you would see at one of these places. This wasn’t the first time I’d been in one of these places, since I had been a college student. The only thing the place didn’t have was a Bob Marley poster. I had no idea how she thought any of this were going to help me.
“It’s an, ugh, nice shop, but I don’t smoke, so I don’t really see how this is supposed to help me with my endeavors,” I said to her, and she smiled.
“Oh, this is just what I sell during the day; it’s my ‘human merchandise,’ so to speak. You’re quite impatient. I wanted to take a second to chill out, but I’ll just rush into it then.” She went behind the long, glass counter that held the most expensive glass bongs. She said ‘obeton,’ and pushed some kind of button inside the case. I immediately felt like I was in a wizard movie. The walls started shifting, flipping, and hell, doing cartwheels—for all I can remember seeing. Once I blinked, the room stopped spinning. I took a deep breath and took in the new surroundings. Now on the wall were old, dusty-looking books with titles I couldn’t pronounce. In the cases were bottles filled with liquids, and large stones of all different colors. In the cupboards, on the walls, were all types of herb- and spice-looking things. To my left were stakes, huge stakes, making the one I had in my hand look like a twig.
“Nice,” I said as I began to wonder about the store, since it now sparked my interest. I went first to the stakes, and one dark-cherry wood one caught my eye. I took it off the hooks it had been on and held it tightly with both hands. It was so beautiful, and so thick that I almost couldn’t grip it with one hand. I knew, somehow, that it was a stake, but it had flat ends. I found this odd, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series) Page 3