It was the Butler who found the bodies. In the early hours of the morning, as the sunlight glistened on the dew clinging to the window. The two of them lay sprawled across the drawing room floor, their throats ripped out. Bright red blood stained the walls, yet hardly any surrounded the corpses. It was obvious, even to people with little experience in these matters, what had finished these poor souls. Word was sent for me. I was son of the region's most prominent Vampire Hunter, and I'd been tracking a Vampire coven hidden somewhere inside the City. When I arrived the scene was even more horrific than I'd feared. A gaping hole had been wrenched through the roof, floating dust particles were illuminated as they passed through the weak sunlight coming in through the ceiling. Clearly only something of immense power could have done this. I did not know who the two people were, yet my heart went out to them and their families all the same. Unfortunately these were not the first murders. Twenty-four people had now been slain, all the by the same ferocious and bloodthirsty fiend. A frantic air of terror smothered all of London. No one went out after dark anymore, but barricaded their doors and windows at sunset. Not that it helped. During the daylight on the near-empty streets, the rare passer by glared at me accusingly, with a gaunt face, and dark bloodshot eyes. On the rare night when we were not out patrolling I lay terrified on my bed, drenched in cold sweat. Not frightened for my own life, but rather what news I would hear in the morning. Who would be the next victim? The old lady who owned the fruit stall? Or maybe Rosie, the pretty barmaid whom I was fond of. The guilt I felt was almost overwhelming. It was my duty to protect these people from whatever was out there, and I was failing them.
Almost every night a cluster of us gathered outside the Church. Armed with pitchforks and flaming torches we braved the dark streets, searching for the Vampire's nest. Every night was as fruitless as the last, with more bodies found each morning yet no trace of any Vampire. The coven was clearly a cut above the rest. An Old Vampire had to be leading them. No Vampire had ever evaded my capture for more than a month, yet it had been almost three since the first murder. These creatures did not have the strength or ferocity of a new born, but they were smarter. That's what had kept them flourishing, hidden inside London's walls. But finally they'd slipped up. On the night of the murders the baker's son Charlie had seen a dark figure emerge from the manhole leading to the underground sewer system. We finally had the coven's whereabouts. A council was called. The question was "How were we going to destroy the Vampire's?" John, an enormous black-bearded iron worker had to be restrained before he charged down the man hole himself. It was too risky if we attacked them head on, we had no idea how many they numbered. The thought of losing someone in the fight was almost too terrible to imagine. No. There had to be another way. And By daybreak we had the solution. The underground sewer ran the length of the City, and was dotted with openings. If we could block each opening the coven would eventually be trapped underground, forcing them to starve. After a good week or two one man hole would be opened up, our cluster of Vampire vigilantes would lurk, upwind from the hole, and wait for the weakened Vampires to emerge, where they'll be slain.
The twilight air was crisp and still. I crouched low, hidden in shadow. The tense breathing of the dozen people behind me was the only sound that night. My legs felt like coiled springs, tensed, ready to lunge at the slightest hint of movement coming from the sewer exit. The only exit, in the entire city. It had been a week since the last way out was blocked, and for the first time since the killings began no new deaths had been gruesomely discovered in the mornings. Vampire's needed to feed. They hadn't for a long time, so they were hungry, and desperate. The towns' people behind me were armed with an array of stakes, pitchforks and old rusty weapons. The strongest were chosen, even though the Vampire's would be weak and shriveled, their strength would be beyond that of a normal man. I was very nervous. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead and soaked the back of my shirt. We were taking a big risk, and could so easily lose someone in the att… movement. The heavy lid into the sewer began to slowly turn, grating on the stone. No one breathed. The air was suffocating with tension. Slowly it grinded off to one side exposing the dark hole, and a pale grey hand. My heart was thudding so loudly it felt impossible the creature couldn't hear it. It rose slowly, cautiously, clearly wary of our scent. But as I'd hoped its hunger won over its common sense, it left the hole, followed by two other shrunken figures, all moving swiftly in the opposite direction to where we were, heading down the dark streets. We charged, screaming after them in pursuit and waving the assortment of weapons above our heads. My legs pounded along the cobbled stone, and an intense rage took over me. These were the vermin responsible for the deaths of all those innocent people, the reason why I'd hardly slept for the last few months, the reason why I'd seen so many torn and mangled corpses. The fiery passion I felt fueled my body and I accelerated even faster leaving my comrades far behind.
The Vampire's had split up. I tailed the first one through the dark and small alley ways, always closing in on him. My lungs were on fire, yet it was clear I had the upper hand. I sprinted down the dark passageway, following the figure's every move. At the end of the alley the Vampire turned left, as I reeled round the corner it suddenly dawned on me how far ahead I was from the others. The Vampire stood there, his bright, blood-red eyes gleaming in triumph. I'd been fooled, and now I was about to die. He lunged with blinding speed, before I could move his razor sharp teeth had sunk into my neck. I felt the blood begin to drain from my body and expected death to sink into unconsciousness. Instead I heard yelling and voices, the others had arrived but it was already too late, I knew what I'd become. The vigilantes continued their pursuit of the Vampire, believing I was dead. The venom, that things venom, was inside my body. I wanted to scream and claw at my neck to get it out, but it was useless. There was an entrance to a cellar in front of me. Knowing I had barely minutes, I crawled, leaving a bloody pool in my wake, to hide in the potato cellar.
Under a mound of rotting potato peelings I underwent my transformation. The pain was beyond description, incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it. It took every ounce of my strength and willpower not to cry out in agony, and give myself away. After three days of eternity, I emerged transformed. A Vampire. With my heightened senses I smelt the most alluring scent of all, human blood. The desire to tear myself from the potato cellar and begin massacring the people above was all consuming, but I resisted. I knew I couldn't live like this, and I also knew that I could not possibly kill someone to satisfy myself. So instead I ran, through the packed streets of London in which I'd once hunted what I'd now become. Heading to the towering White Cliffs, I set off into the setting sun.