Blood Rite Saga, Season One Box Set

by Dylan Keefer

  “You should really call the cops.” The maintenance man said when he was done. He was a tall buff man with a beard, and his expression didn’t move at all.

  “It was just some kids, nothing to worry about really.” Mr. Worth shrugged and paid the man in order to have him leave.

  Prudence then swept up the store. She didn’t find any bricks inside. In fact, the books that were part of the display weren’t even knocked aside. All she found was glass Mr. Worth didn’t manage to clean up. She wanted to ask Mr. Worth, but he was so tired she felt sorry for him. She left the book she came here to return.

  Prudence locked the door and then helped Mr. Worth go up the stairs to his apartment. The apartment was small and neat, with flowery furniture. Prudence made Mr. Worth tea. She picked up the teapot and noticed it had a quilted thick over it.

  “What is this?” She asked, pointing to it.

  “Oh, it’s a tea cozy. It keeps the tea warm. My late wife made them.”

  “Oh, that is inventive.” Prudence finished making the tea. She didn’t have any. She didn’t want to drink anything and stay even longer because of it. She felt like she needed to leave him alone.

  After Mr. Worth had calmed down, Prudence could leave. As she came down the stairs, something on the wall, she saw out of the corner of her eye. It made her turn around. On the wall next to the store, there was that symbol of a hatchet buried in an egg. It was freshly painted, she could smell the paint.

  Prudence stood there, her head to the side, staring at the symbol. Was it connected to the window breaking? She could see both happened at about the same time, but couldn’t figure out why it would. But there was one thing that was clear. She could ignore the symbol and the fear around it before this, but now it was linked to a place she frequented regularly. She needed to know what it was. Prudence decided to ask Milo first thing in the morning. To make sure she opened her notebook and sketched the symbol on a page. She knew it would be easier to find like this.

  Because she didn’t feel like sleeping, when Prudence sneaked into the apartment so as to not wake Milo, she sat in the living room and drew. She wanted to finish the drawing of the man, so when Milo asked her about what she was working on, she could concede and show him that and the unfinished drawing of Charlotte. She was hoping to draw Milo too and was thinking of how to do it. She had a photo of them in her room that she found before she left for New York and took with her, but she didn’t really think of that as an actual memento.

  Prudence was sitting on the couch with her legs bent, her notebook resting on her knees. There was no light in the room, but there was enough light coming through the window for her. The outside was still very lively.

  She was focused on adding the details so much that she didn’t look at the whole photo until she was fully done. She pulled the notebook away from her face a bit and looked into the eyes she had drawn.

  He was staring back at her. It looked like a desperate scream for help. There was also a trace of rage if she looked even closer. Prudence thought about whether he had stared at her like that in her nightmare. And then her vision blurred and the dull pain returned.

  Prudence was being carried in someone’s arms. She looked up and saw the man carrying her. He had short hair and its darkness combined with the fact it was night time had made his pale skin stand out. He was running so fast the wind was making his eyes water. She felt safe when he was holding her, and this position was familiar to her. He hugged Prudence to his chest and jumped, right onto a carriage that was heading down the road. Prudence was nearly thrown out of the man’s arms and landed on her back.

  “Go!” the man that had been carrying her screamed, sitting next to a person holding the reins without a problem. Prudence used that time to look out of the window from the back of the carriage.

  Hung bodies were framing the village street. Horses were galloping down the street, and the fire spreading behind, the result of the torches the mob was holding, lit up the night and made the people look like one homogeneous mass. They were running down the road after the carriage, but they were not fast enough.

  She turned to look back at the man that saved her, but bright light brought her back to reality. Prudence was lying on the floor, on her back. She had bit her lip to avoid screaming, and now it was filling her mouth with warm blood. He had been doing that by habit and even if she would tell Milo this tomorrow, she still didn’t want to have to wake him now. It could wait.

  She got up and ran to the shower to wash up and spit out the blood. When she was finally able to breathe again, she searched her room and got her phone out. She searched through the photo archive like Milo had shown her and found the photos she had taken of the man in the museum. She had not been mistaken. It was the same man. His face was more expressive, but he looked exactly the same otherwise.

  Prudence slumped on the floor next to the bed. He had been saving me for a while now, she thought. The fact she had obviously known him before now actually made her breathe a sigh of relief. Now it was obvious he had not put her to sleep without reason. The relief didn’t last long. She thought back on what she had witnessed. All of the death. At least those people had the relief of having their neck snapped and didn’t have to be burned alive. The boy’s image floated back in her mind, and she felt a pang in her chest. But one question remains. Who was that boy and why do I feel guilty whenever I see him?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tiffany stood in the back of the butcher’s shop, rolling her eyes at the pleading man. “Look I have no time for this, I have shit to do. I have territory to expand. Give me the money and the blood. If you can’t then I have to do my thing.” She was a tall woman, her long fangs touching the edge of her pointy chin. She moved her mouth a certain way, and the man in front of her saw blood trickle down her chin and onto her black top. Then the cuts slowly began to heal. He was properly terrified now.

  “Please, don’t take him. All the blood is packed up and done, I am just a bit short this month.” The butcher was holding the door behind him. If Tiffany wanted she could lift him and rip the door off its hinges but she liked to see him beg.

  “But I need a new toy, and I can get one for free here.” Tiffany mimicked a small child. “Why exactly are you short anyway? You have a lot of yummy things here.”

  “Business has been bad, people don’t come here anymore. Because of the sign.”

  “I would believe you, and just break something in retaliation; you have a lot of breakable things here. But now you don’t even have enough blood to tie us over. How do I know you’re not selling to someone outside the territory? I can’t have that, you will make us look bad. Weak.” Tiffany walked forward.

  “But you know I haven’t’ been selling to anyone yes? I turned away that Asian chick!” The butcher blurted out.

  Tiffany stopped. “What Asian chick?”

  “The one that came over looking for blood. She bought a bloody lamb leg instead. I figured she was sent as a scout from another gang. You never send humans for your food.” The butcher straightened up. “I can give you a description if you promise you won’t hurt my boy.”

  Tiffany sighed. “Okay, describe the woman.” If someone was trying to take their territory, Mickey might be interested in retaliating. They could find the human and make her tell them who made her go there. And then she could have a snack. The man described a tall woman with brown hair that looked reasonably put together, with odd mannerisms and cattish attitude. She picked the lamb leg with a lot of care and after stayed away from the shop but walked by it a few times.

  “Now are you leaving?” The butcher asked when Tiffany took the blood in one hand and weighed the packet. Animal blood was a necessity at times, you couldn’t feed on humans a lot without moving a lot. And the humans you could feed on were usually a bit boney.

  “Sure, I just need to pick up something else.” Tiffany grabbed the butchers head and sank her teeth into his neck. He twitched for a bit, but he fell down soon enough, and she cou
ld sit on top of the body as she drained him completely. She needed a snack, and the corpse was supposed to be hers anyway.

  She left the body on the floor, picked up her blood, raided the till and left while whistling. She had a good night, and now she would have a good day too. If she managed to get home before the sun, which was easy because she was fast.

  She got home just in time for bed. Tiffany growled at the man that was keeping watch at the door, and he let her go. It was the only way to get in. The others were in a pile in the living room, tangled limbs, and mumbling. Some were eating, and some were having fun. The dark was overwhelming for a bit. Outside might have been night, but in here was pitch black. She dropped the blood off.

  “Fridge this. I am going up.”

  “But Mickey said no one should disturb him.” A young vampire, just turned today, was sitting and eating. The younger the vampire, the more intense the blood lust. At that point, they would even kill their own. With time the amount of blood didn’t diminish, but you learned how to deal with the intensity.

  “That doesn’t apply to me.” Tiffany winked and ran up the stairs. The screams hit her ears before she managed to get to the top. “Oh, you started the fun without me.” She pouted.

  Mickey was sitting on the bed and terrifying the small human curled up in the corner. He was taller than Tiffany and bald. His dark skin had a bluish pallor to it, and his eyes were incredibly light. He grinned, and his fangs grew out.

  “Well, you’re late. But you can join, I haven’t started to eat yet. Did you get your snack?”

  “Yes, a bit older than I thought it would be, but he was shortchanging us all the time. And the wife was always more agreeable. It took longer than it should have to mark the new territory.” Tiffany came closer and started unbuttoning his shirt. Mickey grinned and kicked the bed, so the human yelped.

  “Why, trouble?”

  “No, ran out of spray paint.” Tiffany grinned as she ran her fangs down his neck.

  “How did the other thing go?” Mickey asked as he also started taking off her clothes.

  “I did good. Had to break the window of a bookstore to get the guy to come out, but then it was easy. The others were already aware of us, so that went smoother. But that old man never knew anything about what was happening around him.” Tiffany was already working on his pants. She would tear them off they weren’t his favorite.

  “You knew him?” Mickey stopped. She knew why. Unlike him, she didn’t have to kill her family to get in the gang. She was already moved out of her home, and no assets would go to her if her father died. Otherwise, her bosses would have made her. Not that she would say no.

  “The other me knew him. He’s a weak little weasel that doesn’t appreciate what he has. Preachy, just the right type of annoying. He used to be my father.”

  “And how did that feel? How did it feel to threaten someone that made you?” Mickey stopped kissing her to ask this.

  “He is pathetic. I was less pathetic. But now I am better I am stronger. And we get to torture people and have fun drinking their insides.”

  “You are gonna what?” The human on the bed squeaked out. Tiffany only know figured out it was a girl. She was too filthy to be recognizable.

  “Yes, we eat the insides of people. We decorate with them too. We’re vampires, sweetie.” Tiffany used her sweetest voice to say that. She liked terrifying people.

  “Vampires are not real!” The girl yelled out, more to compose herself than anything else. She was already at the end of the bed, and when she scooted over, even more, she fell off. Tiffany let go of Mickey and took her pants off.

  “Blood tastes better when you’re scared.” Mickey started to talk to the victim. “It has something to do with the hormones. It’s sweet and bitter at the same time. I am very old you see, and it takes a lot to get my gears going. And that’s fine for a normal day, I can handle just having my general hunger settled, but usually, on a special day, I want something tastier. And it’s Tiff’s and my anniversary, and we always go big.”

  Tiffany was behind the woman in a flash. She ran her extended claws down the girl’s back and sliced it up. When the girl tried to move Tiffany grabbed her neck. “Nope, you’re not moving. I can always snap your neck and find another toy, but it would take a while.”

  Mickey stopped in front of Tiff and kissed her. Tiffany squeezed the girl’s throat. Combining food and fun was always the best idea. They made sure the girl was fully and truly scared before they both drank her, and then they collapsed on the floor for the next part of their night. This was what Tiffany wanted. This was her life, and this was the true her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Prudence only woke up when she heard noise in the kitchen. She recognized Milo’s slow footsteps. She lifted her head and discovered she had fallen asleep next to the bed and had been hugging her knees. She got up, and then, not to worry Milo, she changed into her pajamas. She didn’t know if she should have slept in his room that day, so she just decided to go in her room and read.

  Walking out of the room, she found Milo cooking. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come in.” He called.

  “I didn’t want to wake you since I came in late. And I also stay up all night almost.”

  “I haven’t asked you how much you sleep by the way.”

  “About two hours every night I think? Unless I’m injured.” Prudence said hello to him by hugging him, and he kissed her. She grinned.

  “How was yesterday?” he asked.

  “Odd," Prudence admitted, sitting on a nearby chair. “Mr. Worth’s shop got vandalized. Someone broke a window.”

  “Oh dear, was anything taken?” Milo looked up from the meal he was cooking.

  “He says no, but he also said there was only one brick thrown through a window, but there was a lot of glass missing, and no brick in the store itself.” Prudence ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t know how much to tell Milo. In the end, she knew he would like to know everything.

  “Maybe he picked it up?” Milo took a guess.

  “Why would he bend over and pick it up when he hadn’t even swept the glass away? Plus,” Prudence got up and searched for her notebook. She found it on the floor under the couch. She assumed she must have kicked it there while she was having the nightmare. She felt a twinge of worry that Milo had seen the drawings. She wanted to be there when he did, and she wanted him to see when they were done only. Plus, she needed to find out if she got a vision every time she saw that boy’s photo. Prudence walked over and flipped to the page where she had drawn the symbol. “I see this symbol all over town, and no one likes it. They either walk around it to avoid it, but if they don’t, they panic. I saw it on a wall next to the bookstore. It was fresh.”

  “What did the police say?” Milo looked at the symbol with a frown. “Sounds like a gang.”

  “Mr. Worth had already called the maintenance man to put up a wooden board on the window. He didn’t call anyone else, according to the fact the maintenance man was asking him why Mr. Worth hadn’t called the cops. Mr. Worth said it was some stupid kids and he didn’t want to bother them.” Prudence pointed at the symbol on the page. “Can you find out what it means? I don’t want there to be more trouble here.”

  “I can search it yes. Gangs usually pressure owners to pay them, or they break things or hurt the owners if they are human it’s not a worry, you can take them, but I would prefer not to have a whole gang around our neck when someone tried to kill us. If you didn’t see it before then maybe the gang is expanding. Maybe we can sick the cops on them and stay out of it. I know you won’t stay away.” Milo nodded. “I can also send it to Charlotte and see if Rick can find anything out about—”

  A phone rang and cut Milo off. He sighed. “Can you hand me that?” He motioned for the phone on the living room table.

  Prudence nodded and got up. She glanced at the caller identification and saw the word ‘Sweet.' The photo on the caller identification was a book, not a person, and that confused
her even more. Usually, there were faces there, she knew that by Charlotte’s picture in that very phone.

  “Who is this?” Prudence asked handing over the phone.

  “A client," Milo answered the phone. “Hello? Yes, Mrs. Sweet. I am aware that the translation has taken a lot longer than I said it would, but I was at the hospital… No, I am aware that there is a lot at stake here Mrs. Sweet. Yes, I know that this can lead to more work and recognition for me. But the delay could not be avoided. I have been working on it over the past week and… Well, no you would not have been able to reach me at the house, I am not longer in Maine. New York. I have been working on it but as I said there was a few days where I could not.” Milo pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed. He looked so defeated. Prudence never saw him communicate with other people, so she didn’t understand why Charlotte said he was awkward but now she saw it. And the woman, on the other hand, was talking so fast it was hard to get a word in edgewise unless you were really good at interrupting people. She didn’t like seeing him like that.

  Prudence saw his face get duller, so she did what she felt was right at the moment. She took Milo’s phone from him. When he tried to take it back, she held up a finger showing that she was not going to hang up.

  “And another thing—” the voice at the other end of it was gruff, and Prudence could assume it would be a nice voice to hear in any other capacity.