Ivy Mills sighed as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, a dull ache already growing in her back from the weight of her new textbooks. She pushed her way out of the crowded lecture hall, brushing past a curvy Hispanic girl with bright blue hair who was handing out Greenpeace flyers at the door. Anthropology always seemed to bring out the weirdos. Ivy smiled. No wonder she had picked it as her minor. She strolled through the bustling UCLA campus, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. Summer was drawing to a close, and as much as she loved the colour of the leaves as they fell from the trees in Autumn, she was definitely going to miss the sun bathing weather. At least she would be able to blame her high double shot-low fat-mocha obsession on the chilly weather. Not that her parents would believe her, of course. More than once they had threatened to withhold her gas money if she didn't cut back on her "reckless spending". At least she had a job now, so she could afford to pay for her coffee as well as her unfortunate penchant for buying shoes over the internet. By the time she had reached the house that she shared with her parents, she was already fantasizing about the pair of discount Jeffrey Campbell boots that she had come across while surfing eBay during her Psychology lecture that morning.
Both her Mom and Dad were still at work, so she flicked on the TV and curled up on the couch with a packet of Doritos. Her shift at the bar didn't start until 6.00pm, so she had at least another hour of relaxation time before she had to get ready. She flicked through the channels, a habit that she had inherited from her Dad, and that drove her Mother crazy. At least Ivy would be living in her own apartment in a few weeks, so her Mom would only have to put up with one channel hog. Most of her friends had already left home, but Ivy had always figured that it would be cheaper to stay at home whilst studying. Now that she was in her third year of her Psychology degree, she was starting to crave the independence that having her own place would bring. As much as she loved her parents, it would be pretty hard to have a keg party while her parents were watching Grey's Anatomy in the living room. She grinned at the thought. Popping another chip into her mouth, she flicked onto a local news station. A sombre looking reporter was standing in front of a small convenience store, which was bustling with cops and paramedics.
"….can confirm to you at home that a man and his twelve year old son were killed late this morning in the convenience store behind me," the reporter was saying grimly. " My sources tell me that both victims were completely drained of blood. As far as we know, nothing was stolen in the attack. Police believe there may be some gang activity involved."
Ivy frowned. Completely drained of blood? That didn't sound like any gang hit that she had ever heard of. Suppressing a shiver, she quickly changed the channel to something lighter.
As she swung her baby blue VW Beatle into the car park at McClelland's Bar, Ivy's mind drifted back to the news report. She couldn't help but be freaked out by it. She knew from some of her Psych classes that there were crazies out there that pretended to be vampires. Mostly they just wore too much eye liner and shopped at Hot Topic, but there were some serious nut jobs who actually drank human blood. It was enough to make her feel sick. Hoping that the busy Friday night crowd would keep her mind occupied, she hurried past the lines of cars and into the bar.
She got what she was hoping for: the locals had all turned out for their Friday night drinking session. She'd only been working behind the bar for a couple of weeks, but she already knew most of the regulars. Picking up a tray of beers, she strode towards one of the back tables, grimacing as a hand reached out from the crowd and pinched her butt. Being the youngest bartender at a bar full of middle ages guys, that tended to happen a lot. She had been furious at first, but after a while she learned to ignore it. You had to have a pretty thick skin to work at a place like this. Most of the night passed by in a haze of shouted orders and spilt drinks, and Ivy was relieved when the majority of the crowd filtered out towards the end of the night. As she wiped down her tables, she noticed a pair of guys sitting near the pool table. They were a little older than her, maybe late twenties, and they definitely fell into what her best friend Sadie would call "hottie territory". One was tall, with a mop of brown hair, while the other one was a bit shorter, with short dark hair and green eyes. They looked like they were related, brothers or cousins, maybe. As she got closer to their table, she could see that their faces wore nearly identically tired and wary expressions. She found them somewhat intriguing, although she couldn't put her finger on why. Suddenly the shorter guy glanced up and caught her eye, and the appraising look her gave her made her legs feel like they'd been turned into jelly. She quickly returned to her cleaning, heat flooding her cheeks. Ivy had only been on a handful of dates, and they'd all been pretty standard and dull. This guy, on the other hand, seemed like the kind of guy who would pick a girl up for a date on a motorcycle, take her to a bar, and talk her into bed before she could so much as order a drink. In other words, he was the kind of guy her parents had been telling her to stay away from since she was 13. Ivy spent the rest of her shift trying to keep herself busy, and she only snuck a glance at the two strangers every few minutes. They seemed to be in deep conversation whenever she looked at them, although they managed to get through a fair amount of cheap beer. Ivy was almost glad when they disappeared about half an hour before the bar closed. At least she could focus on something other than a couple of mysterious strangers.
Ivy was only half awake the next morning when she heard the rain lashing against her bedroom window. She pulled herself into consciousness with a heavy sigh. It looked like she would be spending her weekend off with her slippers and a book. She trudged downstairs in her dressing gown and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She could hear the murmuring of the TV in the living room, as well as her parent's voices. They sounded concerned, and she shuffled into the living room to see what was going on. The reporter from the night before was on screen again, this time standing in front of a seedy looking night club. The words along the bottom of the screen screamed "Vampire killer strikes again" in red and white letters.
"There's been another attack?" Ivy asked as she sat down beside her Mom. Her Mother was wearing her usual cleaning outfit of old grey sweatpants and a holey pink t-shirt. She didn't look away from the TV as she answered.
"Yeah, they found a young woman in one of the bathrooms. Completely drained of blood, just like the others."
Ivy shuddered. Despite being a Psych major, she still couldn't understand how some humans could be capable of such heinous crimes. Draining someone of their blood took time and skill- the attacks had obviously been meticulously planned.
"You know honey, maybe you should take some time off from the bar," her Father suggested, his face lined with worry. "I don't like the idea of you walking around there alone at night."
Ivy rolled her eyes. "Come on Dad, McClelland's is perfectly safe. Besides, it's not like I'm by myself."
Her Father frowned. "Well, I'd still prefer if you get someone to walk you to your car when you finish up. There are some dangerous people out there."
Ivy groaned inwardly but agreed. The older bar staff already treated her like a little kid. If she asked them to walk her to her car, she'd never get taken seriously. Then again, what her Dad didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He would stop fretting, and Ivy wouldn't lose what little respect she had gained so far.
The rest of the weekend passed without any more drama, and Ivy showed up for work on Monday evening in a positively cheerful mood. She'd scored an A on her first test of the semester, she'd found a twenty dollar note under the napkins in her glove box, and her Mom had promised to have her favourite chicken casserole waiting for her when she got home. Even the rain and chilly wind couldn't ruin her mood as she shrugged off her coat and slid behind the bar. Mondays were never particularly busy, and that night was no exception. The bar was practically empty by ten o'clock, and Ivy was relieved when her boss sent her home early. She parked her car in her usual spot in front of the garage, already looking forward to a hot meal and bed. She had early classes in the morning, and she was by no means a morning person. Anything less than eight hours of sleep and she went into full on zombie mode. She hurried to the front door, rain soaking through her coat, and fumbled with her keys. It wasn't until she went to twist the key in the lock that she realised that the front door was slightly ajar.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the rain ran down her back. Her parents would never have left a door or window open at night, especially considering the attacks that were all over the news. Ivy pushed open the door quietly and tiptoed down the hall, her heart racing. The lights were on in the living room and the TV was on, but her parents were nowhere in sight. The kitchen was the next closest room, and Ivy grimaced as her shoes squeaked against the linoleum. She looked down, contemplating taking her trainers off, which was when she saw the blood. It was smeared along the floor and around the counter, like something had been dragged. The bright ruby red stood out horribly against the white lino. Bile rose up in her throat, and Ivy put an arm tightly around her waist to stop herself from throwing up. She edged around the counter, terrified of what she knew she was about to see. It was strange, a small part of her mind thought as she stared at the spread-eagled body of her Father lying on the kitchen floor. It was strange how wrong all of those television crime shows were. You always saw victims at crime scenes or lying on a slab in the mortuary, but they never managed to convey the chalkiness of the skin, or the blankness of the stare of a dead person.
Ivy dropped to her knees beside her father's body and took his head in her hands. His skin was cold, and he felt horribly withered and small. Tears splashed down her cheeks as she cradled her father. She couldn't process, couldn't even begin to understand what was happening. It was like everything in her body had shut down, and all she could do was cry. She heard a sound behind her, so quiet it could have been her imagination, but she couldn't make herself move. When the hand grabbed the back of her coat and yanked her into the air, it barely even came as a surprise. Ivy felt herself be thrown across the room, and she hit the floor with a bone jarring thud. The pain seemed to wake her up, and she scrambled backwards, her eyes searching desperately for something she could use as a weapon. Her attacker was moving lazily towards her, the way a cat stalks a baby bird. He was tall and thin, with greying hair and pale skin. He was watching her with disdain, like she was wasting his valuable time. Ivy pulled herself up with the kitchen counter, still facing the intruder. Her hands brushed something hard and cold. She glanced down and saw the large knife that her mother used for cutting up meat. Her fingers wrapped around the handle and she held it out in front of her. The man stared at the knife for a long moment and then laughed.
"Oh you humans," He said, still chuckling. "So foolish. So hopeful. No wonder you die so easily."
"Stay away from me," Ivy choked, tightening her grip on the knife. "I mean it."
The man tilted his head to the side and slowly and deliberately licked his lips. "But my dear, you look simply delicious. And I'm not one to let my meals get away."
Ivy barely had time to swing the knife before the man sprang at her and everything went black.