Dark sticky blood set in a pool around the cool dead body, glimmering like molten rubies. Dirt and old discarded cigarette butts floated on the thick fluid. A horrible stench radiated from the fresh corpse, filling the area with the vomit enticing stench. It was unnatural for a cadaver to stink so soon after losing life, but this wasn't a natural victim. In a sense, she wasn't a victim at all. She was a vampire -a hunter of mortals and a spawn of evil. Killing whomever, just to feed herself. She probably had murdered more humans than any typical killer seen on the news.
Her long straight black hair enhanced the supernatural beauty of her pale skin and once-mystical golden-brown eyes. Full red lips, petite nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows, slender cheeks, and snow-white teeth combined to create the common look of every supremely average vampiric woman. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, but in reality she was much, much older. Her exact age was never known -only she knew it- and there was never a need to state it. To any normal human male though, she was the kind of woman men fight over.
She needed these attributes to attract her prey. Like an angler fish, her beauty was a light drawing in ignorant prey that she would eat. Men would answer her beckoning, following her into the desolate alleys in the middle of the night. Thinking she required help moving something heavy, and/or hoping to "get lucky" with the strangely gorgeous woman. After she would lead the unsuspecting man far enough into the shadows, she pounced. Her nails dug into his skin and she tackled him onto the ground with strength that could never have come from her thin figure. Surprised and confused, the men did nothing to protect themselves. But the second her pin-sharp fangs pierced their throbbing jugulars, they would begin to struggle.
By then it was already too late for them. They could be counted amongst the dead after the decision to see what the woman wanted. Still, they struggled in vain against her. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting her, and calling for help but no one ever came. Their sweet blood poured down her throat, providing energy and life to the vampire. She ignored their pleas and weakening revolts. She sucked until no more of their juices came out and they shuddered, dead. She did this every other night since being turned, honing her skills to become the perfect predator. Discovering which outfits best complemented her slim body, how long her nails needed to be, where it was the easiest to procure food, and how to dispose of the remains.
No one stood a chance against such prowess and her superior physical attributes. She was not bound by any laws or morals. Finding food meant hunting, so she did just that. Death was a nightly occurence to her and soon believed she was freeing her victims from the unjustness of "life." She was a liberator in her mind, not a murderer. Even if they fought and tried to hurt her, they couldn't. She was invunerable. Or so she thought.
The discriminating evidence stating otherwise, was the fact she was lying on her back -sprawled out- dead. Defeated and executed without trial. It was the second time in two hundred and thirty-eight years she had run into a problem while hunting. The first time had been because she tripped as a lucky bastard pushed her. She tore the brute apart after being beat on the ground and came out fine after it though. He had become cocky before realizing what she was and tried to smash her face in, his mistake. She unsheathed her fangs from her gums and opened wide as his fist came speeding downwards. His flesh tore along his knuckles and two of his fingers. Blood gushed into her mouth and he attempted to retract his hand.
He hollered and she bit him. His yells echoed under the dank bridge, hurting the vampire's ears and she flinched. Her fangs further punctured his hand and he wanted out. Fiery torture consumed him from the right wrist, down. With a mighty yank, meat and blood flew through the air and splattered across the angry vampire's face. The man looked at his ruined hand and stared. Scraps of tissue hung from the exposed bones of his digits and the red liquid the woman wanted, shot out in streams that were in tune with his racing heart. He rose from atop of his assailant but watched only his injury. He tried to move his fingers but could not. This provoked him to faint. In brief summary, she drained him and dumped his corpse into the rapidly flowing river.
The second and most recent incident was different though. She didn't sense anyone in the alley. She walked freely to the brick wall of a building beside the exit looking out into the dark town beyond.
Hope Hills, Montana was scarcely populated but big enough that when bodies were discovered it went by hardly noticed. The vampire had only lived there for a couple of months, but knew the town was her style. It didn't show up on the local maps, people kept to themselves, and the homes were cheap and affordable. There were four bars, a post office, city hall, bowling alley (inside Kreg's Keg bar), two hotels, a motel, two schools (an elementary and a High School), a library, and a hospital -if you could call it that. The clinic was the size of a one story parking garage and employed three doctors, four certified nurses, and five practicing nurses.
No one noticed she didn't work or participate in the community. They also ignored the fact they never saw her during the day. She felt utterly safe and comfortable here. Most would say just the opposite. The weather was perpetually freezing -even in the summer it was forty degrees at best, the jobs sucked, and during the winter the roads froze over making land travel impossible. It was like a miniature Alaska, but Hope Hills was attached to the main body of the U.S. Nevertheless, cabin fever was a common ailment and the young people usually caused trouble.
She didn't mind though, all those problems applied to mortals. The cold temperatures didn't affect her, for she could not feel. Emotions and most physical feelings were taken away from her after becoming a vampire. Love, happiness, touch (in some forms), the ability to taste human foods, and similar experiences were void from her senses. To make up for lacking mortal feelings, she was fast, strong, could see well in the darkest of places, hear the faintest of sound -the rats in the trashcans on the other side of the alley for example, and could sense sneaking mortals from their energy -or aura. That was why she was shocked by the sudden appearance of the lead pipe and pain bursting forth from her left temple.
Initially she thought another creature of the night was jumping her but when she rolled onto her back and was met with a black combat boot to her right side, she realized it couldn't be a fellow vampire. Black blood ran from the split flesh on the side of her head and dripped onto the dirt. The pain was tremendous and tears clouded her vision. She could see a dark blob towering over her momentarily broken form but could not make out any significant details. It appeared he/she was holding something long and cylindrical in his/her right hand, perhaps the pipe? No, it resided in the opposite fist.
A breeze rustled the assailant's clothing and her hair as she sat up. The world spun dizzyingly around her, but she had to know what her attacker smelt like. She inhaled deeply through her nose -which worsened the pounding of her skull- and realized there wasn't a scent. This person had bathed in rose to prevent her from catching his/her odor. It meant she was dealing with someone who was knowledgeable about vampires. That wasn't good.
The nasty wound on her head began fusing back together and her headache started to ease up. Vampires healed quickly -not as rapidly as werewolves who could mend a bone in a matter of minutes, but fast enough to avoid most injury caused deaths. Every part of her body -minus the heart- could repair itself in a short period of time. Her tissues, flesh, brain (depending on the extent of the injury), and most of her organs were capable of fixing themselves. However, in order to lower the span of emendation blood was needed. She had not fed for two nights, rendering her weak.
Blinking to remove her tears, she saw the human walk towards her. A loud clanging sound rebounded down the alley signaling the lead pipe had been casually tossed aside. That was a brave thing to do. Discard his/her only weapon when a vampire was close to standing and being ready to fight again. The light from the half-full moon was blocked as a layer of clouds moved in front of it. To the vampire, it didn't matter. She rid of the tears but the human had moved to her right side, just out of sight.
Turning her head, she became shocked from the sight before her. A spry teen wearing a tight black jumpsuit and a mask which covered all of his face except for a sliver stretching from one eye to the other, stood tall and proud. Her breathing hitched and she stared at those intense grey eyes. They were filled with trauma and experience. There was a past hidden in their silvery depths. He glared at her, radiating hatred and anger from every pore. He held himself confidently and looked at her similar to a parent ready to scold a disobedient child. Power seemed to come naturally to him. As if he was born with it. A small creak came from his right gloved hand as he tightly squeezed the object in his fist.
Nervous, the vampire wearily gazed at the thing. The end facing her was sharp, like a spike. It was round and thick as a glue-stick. The boy's arms were tense but at his sides. She saw the polished wood and quietly sniffed. She identified the throat-constricting scent of ashwood. He was holding a stake. An expensive stake at that, ashwood was poisonous to many "mythological" creatures. So if she was stabbed, the venom within the material of the stake would be released into her and slowly kill her. That was if he didn't hit her heart. But how could a human child hope to do that?
She intended to teach him to have respect for beings higher on the food chain than himself. He interpreted her shifting as a clue that she was going to attack. In truth, he was right, but she didn't plan on taking him down at that moment. She was simply turning to tell him that he had a chance to run and forget all of this, but he immediately took to the offensive. With two hands gripping his weapon, he brought it over his head and leaped.
The act of courage struck the vampire dumb and froze her in surprise. His eyes were locked on her chest and she knew the end had finally arrived. Time slowed as his knees slammed into her midsection and his arms arched downward towards her crashing heart. The time stolen from the rightfully living was about to be taken back from her. His expression was blank and calculating. He was trained, but by whom? Agony swept through her chest as flesh and muscle were punctured and torn open. Her black blood sprayed onto the teen's clothing, drenching him but he did not seem to care.
Screaming and withering in torment, the vampire felt a cold breeze blow past her. She felt the wind and her freezing blood oozing out of the injury. It was true, she was dying. The boy stood and glared at her one last time, then ran off from sight. The steady crunching of his boots faded away and she tried to sit up to watch him. Pain shot through her but she pushed it from mind. Sticking up in the middle of her vision was the handle of the stake. Her white v-neck t-shirt was soaked in her blood. A large circle of it steadily grew by the second.
Furious fire ants swarmed inside of her chest and attacked her nerves, or so it felt. This was the worst torture she had ever experienced. The ashwood and piercing of her heart combined into a torment that brought her wishing for death. Normally there would be a light when dying, but for her, the world darkened. She lost her supernatural ability of night vision and was ready to die. She grew sleepy and dismissed the thought that she never slept. She saw doubles but was able to make out the insignia on the flat end of the stake before collapsing.
Her head collided with the hard ground, the image of the symbol burned into her mind. It was a funeral rose. The slayers had come to town.