BLOODY FANGS
Chapter 1
The leaves beneath bare, mud caked feet rustled, kicking behind her as she ran through the forest. Dense black clouds rolled across the sky, small pellets of rain visible in the silvery light of the moon streaking through the few thin gaps. The water pounding against the ground drowned out the heavy near breathless gasps of air and the near inaudible sound of howls in the distance. Skidding behind a tree she stopped, searching the dark from the direction she came.
She was alone, so it appeared. Her legs shook, wobbling from the trek through the forest. Pressing against the tree, her fist held tight to her chest, she gulped air into her lungs as a fish gulped water. Breathing slowing, rain letting up, the clouds parted to reveal the moon, full in all its glory. The first night of the full moon, something most would find insignificant. The light filtered through the canopy of trees, speckling the girl, revealing her soaked, bloody and mud covered gown which was once white.
Snap. The girls eyes widened to the simple sound. It could have been just your average animal, but she wouldn't take that chance. She darted forward, heading toward the sound of the raging river. The rain picked back up, pelting her and the ground like soft bullets. The sound of feet splashing through mud behind her grew louder as her pursuer swiftly came upon her.
Looking back, she caught a glimpse of white before slipping down a small hill to the river bank. She scurried quickly toward the edge, tossing herself into the raging body of water which quickly swept her down stream. The violent current dragged her under, leaving her pursuer lost without a visual. For what seemed like hours, she bobbed up, dragging enough air into her lungs to get her through the next wave of being swept along beneath the surface.
Nearly two miles she was dragged by the current before she was swept into a small, less violent cove. The rain had eased into a light, misty drizzle as the water pushed her ashore. She laid shivering, breathing heavy and shaking. Her mind and body were equally numb as she attempted to stand. Many times her legs betrayed her, giving out to the numb, throbbing pain as her knees buckled each time she tried forcing herself upright. Up a steep hill, lights of a passing car flashed as it raced by. The girl shifted onto her hands and knees, beginning to crawl her way up to the safety of the busy road.
Just as she reached the top, she looked up. Standing before her, the glimpse of white stood, golden yellow eyes burning into her. Just as her mouth opened to scream, the mans foot connected with her jaw as he harshly kicked her in the face. The impact broke the girls lower jaw, shattering the bone, and sending her flying back down to the river below. The man snickered to himself as he skidded down the muddy slope. His foot jabbed into the belly of the weeping girl as he came to a stop, causing her to scream out in pure agony.
Wicked laughter pierced the night, covering the screams and wailing of the girl. As if it were a cue, the rain began once again, beating the world below. The man dropped to his knees beside the girl. With ease, he pushed her onto her back, and with a single hand pressed firmly to her sternum, held her down despite her mad flailing. Her hands struck the mans face, but it did nothing to phase him. His laughter grew, entangling itself into the drumming downpour. Her gaze fell upon his face. Within his mouth, fangs lengthened, and his eyes burned with a heated intensity that made her fall completely silent.
With a quick motion forward, the mans teeth pierced the young girls cold, wet skin. A single scream escaped from her mouth, a sound greeted by the distant howling of wolves as her world grew dark and life slipped away.
A bright flash bounced off the scene before the lens of a bulky camera. A man wearing latex gloves snapped off photo after photo, preserving the bloody scene of a girls final moments before death. The corpse of a young girl laid with half of the remains of her body floating in the small cove of the river. Her once brilliant brunette hair was matted, some areas completely ripped from her skull. Mud mixed with rock, leaves, and twigs clung to her pasty damp skin.
The photographer stared into the glazed brown eyes of the girl. His tongue clicked. A mixture of sorrow and pity overwhelmed him as he walked about, pressing the capture button and suppressing the need to throw up his breakfast. There were others on the scene, some photographing, just as he was. Others attempted to gather samples of the blood, some were simply waiting to retrieve the remains of the girl. The worst people lingering on scene were the press trying to get the scoop on what happened.
He watched as an older woman ducked under the yellow caution tape, followed by two younger men. The uniform alone indicated she was a police officer, the badge told everyone she was the Sheriff. The reporters from local news stations hounded her, all asking the same question.
"Ms. Kagesaki, how did this poor girl die?"
"Sheriff, what's going on?"
"Do you know who has been killing the young girls in the area?"
The photographer snorted. Though he was only there to snap pictures, he knew just as much as the police officers involved in all the recent cases involving girls going missing and showing up dead; some of the scenes were rather brutal, this happened to be one of them. His eyes followed the Sheriff as she approached the press. Her hand glided nervously over the single gray streak in her dark brown hair which was pulled back into a neat bun.
"We believe," the Sheriff swallowed hard. No one ever said it was easy trying to report to the press, "We believe that, with the evidence we have collected so far, that this was.."
The reporters tried to swarm her, the only thing holding them back a flimsy piece of yellow tape and two officers. The Sheriff's face held a mixture of disgust, confusion, and loss. The photographer snapped his camera aimlessly as his gaze rested in the direction of the crowd, waiting to hear the verdict.
"We believe it was the... v- vampires." She stuttered heavily. Vampires. Anyone who knew better would have laughed, but the people in this area were heavy on superstition. The Sheriff's face grew stern as she found more to say, "She's is victim number five so far this month."
The worst part is... we're only nine days into the month.