Hi there!

So. This is my new story; The plague of Alligan. It was something old i found in my computer, so i rewrote it ... and here we are!

No matter ... Enjoy it!

Stacey POV

Stacey looked down at the crying creature lying on her bed. A smile graced her lips. This was her usual ritual. Laughing them up in front of their faces. They were all so oblivious, walking around in circles and never aware of the dangers wandering the streets.

Stacey enjoyed watching their pain. She thought it was hilarious watching them cry for their lives. Writhing and whining on the ground, at the base of her feet.

'Cause Stacey was the highest in the rang. Stacey was their leader. Stacey was the queen and Stacey was their heir. She had power and she didn't hesitate to show it. Nor did she hesitate to use it.

She stood there admiring her work when it suddenly gave a weird sound. A screech, she thought it was. She wouldn't have known; Stacey hadn't associated with the emotion pain, in a long time.

Though she was almost completely sure. It was a sound she had heard some of her other victims make, while others just opened their mouth and … screamed, she thought it was called.

Stacey was one of quiet ones, although she also was one of the most deadliest, if not the deadliest. She never bothered with making any sounds, or asking for anything, knowing it would be brought to her if she wanted it to.

People – The Idéans – didn't quite understand her way of acting, but respected it anyways. Stacey knew that it wasn't her they respected, but rather their life, and was fine with it. Respect didn't matter here in Alligan; rank did.

While looking down at the creature, Stacey could see what they would fear in her; She was lethal; She was deathly in her bite with a venom so poisoning it would kill even the oldest vampire. Of course she was, one of the oldest vampires, but it was lethal none the less.

A proof to that was the man screaming and trashing in pain, only barely alive, laying at her feet.

Stacey always hated disposing the bodies. It was a lot of work – not very hard – but took a lot of wasted time.

Before the the time of the plague, humans had always willingly volunteered to offer their blood; It had was been an honor to give blood to Alligans gods and goddesses; Alligans saviors; The creatures sent from heaven.

Then the humans started dying.

An illness had struck Alligans biggest city and was spreading fast. People was getting fevers, people was losing hair, losing their body parts; people were dying.

That's exactly where humans started mistrusting vampires. They weren't gods or goddesses sent to earth with healing powers to miraculously save the humanity; they weren't angels from heaven, and they couldn't do anything.

They became monsters. They started hunting down their own food, and people feared them senselessly.

Stacey hated the new life. She hated the illness, she hated everything.

But most of all she hated the death. Sure, she killed every day, but that's what she had to do. Killing in Alligan meant surviving, and if it was kill or be killed, the choice stood clear in front of Stacey's eyes.

She was also proud of having earned a rank so high as hers. The better rank; the better a killer you was. And Stacey had mastered killing over the years; Stacey enjoyed killing. Killing humans, killing animals, just killing.

But Stacey would never kill vampires.

Review! ;) :D