A heavy fog hovered over the water like a thick, gray cloud. The water, still and undisturbed, seemed tense, as though it was waiting for a reason to come alive. The night was black as ink and not a star could be seen in the sky. The moon, which would normally have been full at this time, was hidden, as though cowering behind the clouds somewhere with the stars.
About a hundred feet away from the docks of the Collinsport Harbor, a small fishing boat bobbed gently on the lake, barely discernible from even a few feet away. On a night such as this, most fishermen anchored their boats and agreed to wait until a clearer night to try their luck at filling their nets. But the middle-aged man who sat in the boat only scoffed at such notions. He did not fear the blackness, as his colleagues seemed to. Rather, he embraced it, and the excellent cover it provided while he waited for his net to become heavy with the promise of a good hunk of cold, hard cash filling his pockets. The Collinsport cannery paid well for any load of fish brought in, and the fisherman aimed to take advantage of this.
Settling himself more comfortably in the boat, he carefully stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. The only bad thing about sitting out here in the middle of the night, he reflected, was the waiting. A person could sit out here for hours and not fill even half of their net. And then there was the matter of getting numb. If you squirmed too much, the boat would rock, and then any potential chances of getting fish would be lost.
He let out a sigh. This would be a long night...
Black. That's all she could see when she opened her eyes. Just black, with t
he sense that she was wet. Very, very wet.
Doctor Julia Hoffman glanced down at herself and let out a gasp at the sight of an old canvas bag that was wrapped around her body and tied tightly with a rope. She wriggled a little, grunting and wondering why her words were coming out so warbled.
Suddenly, a large and very fat fish smoothly glided in front of her face, and Julia blinked dumbly. Since when do fish fly? she thought stupidly, and then it dawned on her. She was underwater!
But how? Julia squinted, desperately trying to rewind her brain to remember the events leading up to her underwater imprisonment. Everything in her brain was foggy, as though she had been hit over the head with a two-by-four.
She ran her tongue over her teeth - a nervous habit - and suddenly froze when a sharp pain exploded in her tongue. She tasted blood and suddenly found herself very, very thirsty.
Instincts she didn't even know she had took over, and within seconds the rope had snapped and the canvas bag was torn away. Windmilling her arms powerfully, Julia pushed herself through the water with grace and agility. She still couldn't see anything, but all she knew was that she had to get to the surface - now.
Her progress suddenly came to a halt just a few feet below the surface of the water. What the -? Julia clawed and scratched angrily, but the wire that held her in its grip refused to let her go.
Not wire- net! I'm caught in a bloody fishing net!
The fisherman was jolted out of his trance when his boat suddenly tilted dangerously to one side. He braced himself, and then peered over the side at the water. Visibility was poor, but it was obvious something was down there. Something big.
Shark? he pondered. No, sharks didn't swim this close to the harbor.
Shrugging, he reached out and began tugging on the net to haul it aboard.
Below the surface, Julia was still scratching and clawing desperately when she felt the net - and her with it - begin to rise. Heart pounding, Julia clung to the net and waited. Perhaps there would be something tasty up there - something to satisfy this craving, that would not be assuaged by mere mortal libations.
The fisherman grunted as his muscles screamed in protest. Muttering curses under his breath, he reached down and grabbed another fistful of net. Whatever was in here was sure to bring in a good pay, but only if he didn't dislocate an arm hauling it in!
With a final grunt, he heaved the net aboard, and whatever was in it cried out in shock as it hit the deck. The man panted as he paused to catch his breath, and then reached out to untangle the net.
Julia couldn't believe her situation. She was dying of thirst, and in fate's twisted, ironic sense of humor, she was plunked down here in the middle of a lake. She licked her lips longingly, and then gasped when the man above her began to remove the net.
He was scruffy-looking; almost whithered, with a full beard and a big nose. His hair was a mix of salt and pepper, and he looked to be old enough to be a grandfather.
Julia shrugged. He'd do.
"Whoa," the man said when Julia suddenly scrambled to her feet. The boat pitched violently beneath her feet, but she took no notice of the danger. Her eyes were focused on the fisherman in front of her.
"Now, take it easy ma'am," he told her, slowly reaching his hands out to her. "I've no idea how you got down there, but just take it easy and I'll get you back to shore -"
He didn't get a chance to complete his sentence. Julia leaped forward and latched her fingers onto his shoulders, holding him in an iron grip while her face lowered towards the man's neck. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of his fear and perspiration - and the promise of blood. Baring her fangs, she sank them deeply into the man's neck and began to suck.
He was dead before she even counted up to five seconds. Julia dropped his lifeless body to the deck, where it bounced off the side of the boat and fell into the water. She carelessly sat down and picked up the oars.
A few minutes later, she was over halfway to the harbor. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored them and continued rowing herself to the harbor.
Finally, she heard the boat bump up against the dock. Standing, she daintily stepped out of the boat and stood there for a minute, letting the water drip off her body and onto the wood, where it formed a puddle around her feet.
The streets were barren, making the town of Collinsport seem like a ghost town. Julia grinned to herself. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.
Barnabas sat outside in the darkness, relaxing in a lawn chair on the lawn of the Collinswood estate. It was a perfect night to just sit and think - not too cold, not too warm, and no dangers to be found anywhere. Ever since the final battle with Angelique a few months ago, the world seemed to be a much more peaceful place.
The vampire stared listlessly at the tall gate at the end of the gravel driveway. Was it just his imagination, or had it moved? He continued to watch it closely, but when nothing happened, he shrugged and turned his attention elsewhere.
Those few seconds were all the time Julia needed to reach him. By the time Barnabas looked up, she was standing directly in front of him, dripping wet and striking a pose with a hand on her hip.
"Hello, Barnabas," she said with a wide smile, proudly displaying her fangs. Barnabas stared at her in shock, his eyes moving from her unwavering gaze to the blood spattered around her mouth. "Did you miss me?"
-Fin-