Black Dagger Brotherhood Fan Fiction
When troubles come, they come not single spies but in battalions. Ole William Shakespeare told no lies. Another good analogy is when it rains it pours. Right now, I seem to be smack dab in the middle of both a war zone and a flood zone. I'm not sure if I'm going to die a heroine or drown. When both your personal and professional lives goes to hell in a hand basket life is far from being fun.
I'll start with the professional side of the coin. It is the easiest to explain. Four years ago, my partner and one of my best friends and I were green right out of the Academy and college. We were reading to hit the door, street, or whatever they threw at us running. We were assigned to the Mafia Unit. We both loved it and felt that we would be in the MU until we retired. The person running the chessboard had other ideas for us. Unbeknownst to either of us the MU had only been a stepping stone. Because of our hard work and the accomplishments we had done throughout our four years, we were being given one of the toughest job assignments and most people who were in this unit had been there for a minimum of 8 years and most had been there longer. Aaron and I found ourselves in the Serial Killer Unit. For as long as I could remember I had always been fascinated by serial killers, especially the psychological aspect and the machinations that the detectives and the like did to capture the killer. Psychology and forensic psychology was the main thrust of my education. Aaron always teased me about being used for my mind and not my looks. When he said that I usually flipped him off and said I'm used for both my mind and my looks, but in our line of work he was closer to the truth. I was both looking forward to our new assignment and dreading it. For the most part the MU wasn't something that you took home with you every night, you didn't have nightmares about it, but I knew the Serial Killer Unit was going to be both of those things and more. Our colleagues told us by six months we'd be looking a few years older than when we started and we knew that was gospel. I had read enough true crime serial killer books to know those that worked those cases lived, breathed the cases. Giving up sleep, family time and pretty much all of their life until they had the killer behind bars. My mind went back to a recent book I'd read on the Green River Killer who hadn't been caught for twenty years. Not many of the original people involved with the case had made it to the end. Whether they got promoted, retired etc it took its toll on every last one that had ever worked on the case. I was always up for a challenge and this challenge had me excited, but it had come at a very bad time in my personal life and I didn't know if I could handle both at the same time.
Now it is time for me to open up the personal can of worms so to speak. Before I should start I should mention that I was adopted. I did not know either of my birth parents. I was raised in a very loving family, so it never bothered me that I had been given up for adoption. My parents had told me openly and honestly when I was at the age to understand. Not going to lie and tell you it didn't hurt to think that my real parents hadn't wanted me, but it was their loss. I had the best parents I could ever have and want. I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for their love, guidance, support. I will love and cherish them until the day they die or the day that I die, whichever comes first. I never wanted to try to find out who my real parents were because in my mind my adoptive parents were my real parents, the only ones I ever knew or wanted to know. That all changed a month ago.
I received a letter in the mail. Which was odd in and of itself. The only mail I ever received was bills or junk mail. Any letters from family or friends came electronically. E-Mail is my lifeline and if I could meet the person who invented it I'd hug and kiss them and give them my undying gratitude. So when I found this letter in my hand all sorts of sirens went off in my head. I actually put it down on my coffee table and stared at it while I ate dinner. It was weird, I felt like I didn't want to touch it. Finally my curiosity one over after I had cleaned up after myself from dinner and loaded the dishwasher and started it running. I grabbed my letter opener from the utility drawer and went back to the couch, sat down and reached for the letter. With two quick flicks of the letter opener I had the top open. It took me another couple of minutes before I took the letter out of the envelope. I read the one page letter without blinking. Then I read it two more times. I then set it back down on the coffee table and went over to my wet bar and poured myself a goblet of Brandy. When someone you don't know drops a bombshell on you, you need something that burns going down to help you process said bombshell. I felt it was going to take several goblets of Brandy to process what I had just read. I mean what would you do if you got a letter informing you that you are a half vampire and that half vampire part of you is about to show up and say "surprise" Not to mention the person giving you this golden nugget of information is your "real" father. My first reaction was what the fuck Chuck? Twenty three years of nothing only to get a letter stating that I'm about to become a fucking vampire? What kind of person does that? My father I guess. After a third Brandy I call up my parents Annette and David Sullivan. I calmly tell them about the letter and when I hear nothing but crickets on their end I realize this isn't exactly news to them. They explain that they knew about my being half vampire, but they were never told when I would learn about that side of me. Wow my "real" father is just a fountain of information...not. None of this was their fault and I assured them I wasn't angry at them, though that was a bit of a white lie, it would have been nice to have had this information a long time ago, but they were in the dark as to when I would become a vampire, so I couldn't necessarily fault them. Though I had a big San Andreas fault squarely on my "father's" shoulders.
Every morning since I got that fucking letter I had been checking my teeth for fangs whenever I brushed them. Like I needed anything else to make my paranoia even worse than it already was. I also started going over in my head the things I knew about vampires, though most of that was thanks to Hollywood which wasn't going to do me any fucking good.
About a week ago when I went to pick up some groceries at the supermarket, the sun seemed to be a lot more intense and by the time I got home my head was pounding. I didn't think much about it because with all the stress that I'd been dealing with my head should be pounding 24/7 by now. The next day I was meeting my best friend and roommate Melanie for lunch in the park across from the hospital where she worked. By the time her lunch break was over I had a headache equivalent of a migraine raging in my head. Once I had laid down for a bit and all my blinds and stuff were closed and my place was nice and dark my headache went away. My mind started to race as if I was in the Kentucky Derby. Vampires...sunlight. The next day I decided to put the theory that was in my brain to the test. It was a nice sunny day and I decided I would take a swim. So I got my bikini on and opened up the sliding door and slipped out back. I dove in the water and did a few laps before my head started to feel like little men were all around it with jackhammers. I hurriedly got out, grabbing my towel and got inside. Once I was in the darkness again the jack hammering subsided. "Fuck me running backwards" I muttered to myself. My theory had been right on the money. I walked into my bedroom, dried off, put on the clothes I had took off and went back into the living room. I drank a couple cups of coffee trying to figure out what I should do. One shoe had dropped. It was obvious I couldn't go out in the daylight anymore. One check for a step toward vampirism. I guess I was now just waiting on the second shoe to drop, which would be fangs. It was then that I remembered my "father" was nice enough to give me the name, number and address of a vampire doctor that he was familiar with right here where I lived. He told me if I started having any abnormal problems to call someone named Havers and he'd be able to help me. Gee thanks dad, just pawn me off on other people like you've always done. I went into my bedroom and into my closet and kneeled before my safe. I put in the combination and opened up the door. I grabbed the letter and then locked the safe again. I found the part with this Haver's number on it and started to dial, but then I stopped and ended the call. I paced around my room and then tried again, nope can't do it yet. "Stop being a stupid ass and call the fucking number" I chastised myself and finally let the call go through. A man with a soft voice answered after only a couple of rings. I was as nervous as a whore in church. I made sure that I was indeed talking to Haver's, then I told him who I was and about my "father's" letter. To my chagrin he didn't seem surprised to be hearing from me, actually he sounded like he'd been expecting my call which pissed me off even though it wasn't this guy's fault, no that was still all on my "father". He agreed that I needed to avoid the day time like the plague, but that really wasn't a biggy for me, I had been a night person for as long as I could remember, now I knew why. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I noticed even the tiniest of fangs that I was to come to him. "I don't understand any of this. He mentions some sort of transition. I mean if it wasn't any big deal he wouldn't have mentioned it. He didn't give me anything but your information and then some friends of his would also help me as well. I'm assuming these friends are also vampires? When should I be expecting these fangs? Because you said to come to you when I notice any hints of them I'm assuming things are going to happen quickly after that, but what things? You seemed to have been expecting my phone call, but what about these other friends?" It was then I realized I had been prattling on for probably ten minutes, asking him all these questions, but not letting him answer them. Then again, I also had the feeling he wasn't going to be answering many, if any of the questions that I had asked.
Havers had indeed been waiting for her phone call. He had received a letter as well, probably before hers. He hadn't contacted the "other" friends that she had mentioned. He wasn't going to either, that was not up to him to do. He could hear the stress, frustration and the fear in her voice. She had every right to feel all those things and so much more. He hated that he couldn't tell her all that she wanted and needed to know. He knew what he could tell her though. "I am sorry that I can't give you a lot of information, but yes, once you see your fangs things will be happening quickly. I know that you don't know me from Adam, but I will assure you once you have fangs showing you will get all the help you need and more. It won't be easy on your side of things or for anyone else either. "
Even though Katrina was frustrated she knew this man was in a bad place too. He knew what he could and couldn't say even if he wanted to tell her more he couldn't. "I'm sorry that my so called father has put you and these other friends in this situation. I'm sure all of you are just having all sorts of warm fuzzies for him for doing this to you. You have my word that as soon as I notice fangs I will come to you. This isn't anything that I'm able or willing to face on my own. I maybe stubborn and too brave for my good, but even I know my own limits. Thank you for your time." She didn't wait for him to answer, she just hung up.
I'm a cop, detective, whatever you want to refer to me as, so on any given day I'm not always that easy to get along with. I'm a bit rough around the edges. If I'm not stressed I'm the most easy going, fun loving, sarcastic wit person you could ever meet. I'm an angel, but I'm I'm stressed to the tenth power, look out. My bitch side will rear its ugly head. Both my partner Aaron and Melanie both call that my Medusa personality. I'm not "that" bad or I'd have a garden of stone statues instead of beautiful roses and assorted other flowers. I usually only get that way when I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place with no way out. I pride myself at being good in tough situations and being able to take one problem at a time and working my way through it. When it is two waging war with me that's another ball game altogether. It also doesn't help that so far I am taking all this vampire thing all on my own. I haven't told Aaron or Melanie about anything. They both know the existence of vampires just like I did, so vampires are no big thing for any of us. The only people that don't know about vampires are the ones who are too scared or too closed minded to acknowledge the existence of them. I guess I've been too scared to tell them. I know they won't run away or treat me any different, but truth be told I need them right now because I'm not handling it very well. On the outside I'm fine, but ever since I started changing I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else. I obsessively read and re-read my "father's" letter and go over Haver's and my conversation. I look at my teeth in every mirror I come in contact with. I'm driving myself to the brink of insanity. I sit down on the couch and finally accept I can't do this on my own. I look at my watch and Melanie is due off work in thirty minutes. I text both her and Aaron and tell them it is pajama party night tonight. I entice them with pizza and enough liquor to ensure we'll all pass out before the night is over. I get a text back from Aaron asking if I'm finally going to spill the beans about what has been bothering me. He knows me too well and I tell him yes and to bring over extra Jack. He informs me he's already heading out and over to the liquor store and will be here asap. I go into the kitchen and take out the vegetables to make the salad that both Melanie and I will be wanting with our pizza. I turn on my oldies station blasting it as I wash and start to dice up the vegetables. I'm not worried about not hearing Aaron's knock since he has a key and knows the code for my alarm, so I let my music take me away for at least a little while.