Blood & Sacrifice (Part 1)

There was a pop and a sizzling coming from the kitchen of the hotel that stirred Mitchell. In a half doze, he quickly sat up, his head rushing, and squinted his tired eyes into focus to find the source.

"Well, good morning! Breakfast is almost ready," Annie squeaked while she managed four pans at once.

"You didn't have to do that," Mitchell grumbled groggily, unsure if any of his words came out coherent. Evelyn was still asleep beside him. He noticed the longer he stared that there were sand grains tangled in her hair. He smirked crookedly.

"By the looks of you two…I think this is the least I could do." Her voice had dipped an octave lower, insinuating something or other.

Mitchell yawned. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied with not much persuasion, not that he was trying. Evelyn began to stir.

"Then why are your clothes over there-," Annie pointed to the floor, "-and you guys are over there?"

He snickered, lifting his blanket to check, and confirmed that they had indeed forgotten to re-robe themselves. "I have no excuse," he declared while Annie shot him a knowing look.

"Wake up your girlfriend, breakfast is served." Annie set out several plates loaded with pancakes, sausages, and eggs.

"I'm up," came a muffled voice from the bed. Her stomach rumbled from the smell of food.

Holding the blanket waist-level, Mitchell leaned down over the edge of the bed and grabbed his pants. Evelyn's eyes opened wider as she reached over and pinched his rear.

"Why do you have the most perfect bum? It's not fair," she contested as she began to sit up herself.

"It is true, Mitchell. You really do," Annie agreed and took a seat on the couch. "But unfortunately, it may fall second to George's."

"What?" He scoffed sarcastically. Evelyn cackled. "That's utter bullshit. Wait…how come your husband isn't number one?"

Annie howled. "Cedric knows where he stands. It's a nice ass, but I've seen better. Obviously."

Evelyn and Mitchell got dressed and started their breakfast. While it wasn't unusual to Mitchell that Annie didn't eat or drink, Evelyn was only now growing used to it. She was thankful that she remembered before accidentally asking why she didn't join them.

"Oh! Tea!" Annie leapt from her chair to prepare.

"Did you ever find your dress for the wedding?" Mitchell inquired.

"I did. I don't think I would have without Annie's help," Evelyn beamed.

"And she looks absolutely beautiful in it," Annie quipped as she set two mugs in front of them.

"No doubt. Also, I think I'll just forego the suit and go naked. Especially if I have the number two spot for best ass," Mitchell shrugged in jest with a straight face. The girls chuckled at the thought.

Toward early noon they packed their things and made their way back home. It was Annie's final day with them before collecting her mother and flying back the next morning. There was a sense of loss that Mitchell unexpectedly felt at the thought of her leaving again. He would be seeing her again in a few weeks' time, but their friendship warmed his soul. Evelyn as well felt sad; Annie was a walking ray of sunshine and there was no wonder why she was so well-loved not just by them, but the locals as well.

They spent the last afternoon discussing final weddings arrangements and the general itinerary for the big day. Mitchell and Evelyn would fly out two days before to get settled and go through all the rehearsals. The only things Annie had left to take care of were minor details – it was expected to be a relatively large wedding of around two hundred guests.

The final goodbyes were said, prolonged hugs given, and many more "see-you-soons" were had. It was eerily quiet with Annie out of the house. While they were unpacking, Evelyn saw something catch the light: George's necklace.

She swooped it up in her hand and smiled upon it and dangled it in front of Mitchell. He gave her a questioning look. "I carry it with me everywhere. I kind of feel like it's a good luck charm now."

"He was so convinced it could do the fighting for him," he grinned. "Before he grew balls, that is."

Evelyn rested the necklace on her dresser. "I suppose in a way it did some good, at least for me."

"Remember how you mentioned it was the anniversary of your parents' accident? Annie reminded me that it was George's death anniversary recently, too. I don't remember which day. I'm surprised I forgot because usually Annie is a total mess when it comes," he muttered.

Evelyn glanced over to him. "Do you suppose that's why she planned this outing? Or maybe that's why she timed it the way she did."

His eyebrows raised at the idea. "It's quite possible; it was a good distraction."

"I don't want to go back to reality tomorrow. This week was much-needed," Evelyn groaned as she finished tucking away the rest of her clothes.

"They're sending me over to London tomorrow for some rubbish corporate meeting," he grumbled as he sat on the bed.

"Does that mean I get the entire house to myself?" Evelyn mocked and sat beside him.

He playfully glowered at her. "I'll be back in time for dinner. I dread these sort of things…it's been so long since I've actually had to interact with a large crowd of people."

She shook her head and swatted the air. "You'll be fine. Just keep your head down and only participate when asked."

With a chuckle, he rubbed his eyes. It was barely seven o'clock and he was already exhausted, so he figured he would get a full nights' rest before his big day tomorrow. Evelyn soon followed.

Before Evelyn left for the day, Mitchell gave her a long kiss and saw her off. She wished him good luck, and he nodded. Once the door was closed and she was safely away, he watched until she was gone and sighed. He hadn't told her, but at his last run-in with Atticarius's wife and Rufus, there was a confrontation. Last night he mentioned he had a corporate meeting for work and he had lied straight to her face. He had called in to work this morning before she woke, citing a stomach bug. The guilt had been eating at him since he had been trying to construct a convincing lie, but he hadn't wished to upset Evelyn as he didn't expect anything to come out of it anyhow. Delivered to him was a message from Atticarius himself – he had heard rumors of Mitchell's approximate whereabouts, but no exact location. Though the vampire community was more of a sparse variety out this way, they still slithered around corners and their ears and eyes were always open. The meeting was a planned event. He had received a separate piece of mail a couple of months back that he managed to intercept before Evelyn could get to it, which told him the date, time and place of their meeting spot.

It was lie after lie to Evelyn, and he was risking all her trust. He knew that she wanted him to avoid any confrontation that could bring their roof down onto them, but the message Atticarius was giving him was worth the potential to be rid of him. The message that he was given from Atticarius's wife, Kari, was a compromise of sorts. Mitchell was to meet him at his quarters about fifteen miles away. Atticarius wanted answers, some of which Mitchell wasn't let in on. One of the things he inquired about was the old whereabouts of Herrick's old comrades who were still alive. A reason wasn't given, but it was assumed that Atticarius wanted a collaboration of sorts. This was easy for Mitchell, for he despised all of them despite all the years that had passed since he had hit rock bottom due to their influence. He was aware of how to find them. Herrick had an almost cult-like following for years and many resources at his fingertips. Because he was so well-known and well-respected to much of the vampiric community, all Herrick had to do was snap his fingers and they were at his command.

In giving Atticarius this information, it was promised that this would be their final meeting. Mitchell knew that there wasn't much reason to trust him, but he would give a little to get a little. The odds of Atticarius, or even himself, being truthful were less than half. Mitchell had been in plenty of situations in all his life like this, trying to find middle ground, and less than half ended the way he had hoped. So, he was taking a risk that not only put him in danger, but everyone close to him. The hand of grudge-holding vampires reached far, and Annie wasn't entirely out of the question despite her distance.

He felt incomprehensibly calm despite the potential mess he could be walking into. It was a risk he was willing to take. Perhaps it was due to a lifetime of experience. Or maybe it wound down to ignorance. How he would arrive to an explanation to Evelyn later, well…that was another problem that he would have to consider later.

Rubbing his gloved hands together, he reached into the safe where he kept some small weaponry for the house. He pocketed a knife into his back pocket – there was no way he would leave empty-handed, regardless of any promise made by the man who nearly broke his back.

Once everything was in check, he left a hand-written note for Evelyn should she be home before him that he made a quick errand and would be home for dinner. He stared at it for a prolonged minute before strolling out to his destination. He took a cab ride most the way and walked the rest. The fresh air was comforting on his face. The trees were in full bloom, the temperature mild for the month. The closer he got, the more the "what-ifs" creeped into the back of his mind. His confidence, and perhaps his arrogance, won over those thoughts.

When he arrived at the gate, which Mitchell found all-too cliché given the myths of vampires, it buzzed after a few seconds and opened for him. A long stone path which was being grown over by creeping weeds led to up to a tall, thin tower of a home hidden behind a couple yards of trees which shrouded the house behind it. While the architecture was unique, somehow it blended into the societal style of homes. It was also, he noted, relatively secluded even without the tree coverage.

Mitchell approached the door, staring into the glass which only reflected the path through and behind him. He grasped the door knocker, pounding three times. Still yet, inexplicably zen. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and after a few short moments the door opened. It was Rufus, whose expression resembled that of shock. Mitchell kept a straight face.

"Did you not think I would stay true to my word?" He questioned.

Rufus hesitated, his jaw quivering as if lost for words. "O-oh, n-no sir. Well, I g-guess it was a b-bit…unexpected, if you w-will…."

Mitchell stood there without saying another word, until Rufus came back to reality from whatever world he was in in his head and finally let him in with a bow. Mitchell took a brief look around the massive room: the entire place was monochromatic in color, clad only in blacks and grays. It was deceiving on the outside as he wouldn't have guessed it was nearly as spacious.

"P-please, f-follow me, sir…" Rufus' permanently hunched body led him through this hall and that corner, until they reached a grand stairwell which preceded downstairs. For one second, Mitchell balked before he decided to make the step to the stairs. It was only then that he began to feel slightly ill to his stomach. Rufus crept behind him, then closed giant wooden doors behind them which covered the stairwell. Mitchell turned around, unaware there was a close-off to begin with.

He took a step toward Rufus, grabbing him by his collar. "I swear to God, if this is a- "

"Ah, Mitchell…" A cold, sly voice came from down below. Mitchell quickly turned his head, not expecting Atticarius to make his entrance so soon. "I see you've been reintroduced to my ever-loyal friend. Please…," he gestured with his arm to follow him all the way in. Mitchell let Rufus go, who was nearly on the brink of a squeal. He was unsure why Atticarius chose such a terror-stricken man to do any work for him.

He followed, but kept his distance. "It's a nice house you have here. Is this where you keep all of your experiments? The innocent humans you maimed in exchange for what exactly?"

Atticarius shrugged callously, leading him through the extensive chambers. "Not much, unfortunately. It was a wasted effort…a bit of a blunder. Though in some fashion, I got what I wanted…but we'll save that for later."

Mitchell kept his eyes on his back, his hand within close range of the knife in his back pocket. As he went to grab it, hoping for an easy opportunity, he retracted as they walked through large double-doors into another enormous room. There stood groups of Atticarius's sycophants.

"If this is your idea of a compromise, it's interesting that you chose to greatly outnumber me. You had me come alone for that purpose, so what is this?" He nodded at the crowd, who were slowly turning around and quieting as they walked further in.

Atticarius spread his arms out, as if he were to hug someone. "This is my family…not by blood, of course. Would it be fair to evacuate them for the sole purpose of discussion?"

Stopping in the middle of the room, Mitchell crossed his arms, his eyebrows casting a shadow over his eyes. "Then let's get this over with. The last I heard, which wasn't that long ago, Herrick's little groupies were- "

"Oh, no, Mitchell…you didn't truly believe that's what I brought you here for? I mean…come on! At least make it a challenge." Atticarius threw his head back and cackled greatly, causing some of the people in the room to jump. Mitchell was aware that he was slowly being closed in, and only now was he realizing he was stupid enough to have fallen into this.

"W-would you l-like me to s-set up, my lord?" Rufus peeped from just behind Mitchell.

Hand sharply in the air to quiet him, Atticarius swiftly turned to face Mitchell now. Mitchell's eyes were less relaxed now, and he knew it was being noticed by some. His breathing quickened.

"Not yet, Rufie. Not yet. Let's play with him first…" The instant he stopped speaking, Mitchell ripped the knife out of his pocket and charged it straight toward Atticarius's head, but his arm was snapped backward by Kari, who had been hiding betwixt the others.

The motion dragged him back a few paces as he whipped around on his heel, elbowing Kari square in her nose with his free arm. She shrieked and bent low over her knees, and now more vampires were moving in. Some of them went to assist her, but she only shoved them aside.

He wasn't going to go down with a fight, regardless of his opposition. Kari leapt forward in one stride and her head collided into Mitchell's abdomen, sending him breathless onto the concrete flooring. His head smacked loudly against the pavement. The daze was enough to ground him for a while, and his body wasn't responding to his need to recover.

Atticarius howled, his eyes widened. "I said make it a challenge! Come on, Mitchell, have you lost your way? Why, I question what Herrick saw in you…though, I do consider him an inferior to myself, so his priorities must have been skewed."

As consciousness was brought back to him, Mitchell found his feet again as he wobbled up to stand. His knife had been disarmed and confiscated straight into Kari's hands, whom was now handing it off to Atticarius. Mitchell stood there, mussed hair in his face, his mouth hanging open for air.

"Please…," began Atticarius, now standing at the edge of the circle of everyone. Mitchell was left in the center, Kari in a crouched position as if she were ready to attack at any moment.

"Please have your way with him while I go set up…"

At first nobody moved. Clenching his fists, Mitchell took advantage of the situation and sprung with as much force as he could to Atticarius's retreating back. Someone behind him grabbed his ankle which caused him to begin falling face-down, but not before he grabbed a handful of Atticarius's long hair. His chin smashed onto the floor and he bit his own tongue, and Atticarius was nearly brought down to his level. He could hear the breath catching in his mouth, and it seemed he didn't expect Mitchell to get near him. He had a fierce grip on his locks and blood was filling his mouth.

He brought his other hand up and simultaneously jerked Atticarius's head back sharply while his fist met his mouth. The crowd was moving erratically now. Mitchell didn't get far as Atticarius was picked up by Rufus, a wad of hair tearing from his head.

Atticarius turned to look down upon Mitchell, one of his men holding Mitchell down with his boot.

"Well, Mitchell, I was planning to play nicely until we get to the good stuff, but I know you're infamous for breaking the rules. Have at him." With that, Atticarius was able to withdraw into a dark room further away. Mitchell spat blood onto the floor in front of him. He soon jumped back onto his feet.

Fists were flying everywhere. Mitchell grabbed anyone within arms' length, swinging and headbutting and kicking as hard as he could. Every couple of offenses he was knocked in the face or somewhere else on his body. He could feel his strength surely but steadily degenerating, but he refused to give in. About eight years ago he single-handedly took on just less than this number of people and came out on top. Of course, he had less practice since then.

There were some unconscious bodies lying on the floor and others were bowing out. He quickly scanned the crowd, and he felt his stomach drop. He was losing steam and blood and he barely made a dent. Clearly, this was what Atticarius had intended to happen. And he fell for it…again. Sometimes he questioned how made it this far in life alive with his irrational and jump-the-gun decisions. Too often he didn't think things through.

He continued to fight his way, but soon the others integrated weapons into the fight. With his only other source of defense stolen from him, he could only do his best. He thwarted as many arms as he could – there were knives, bats, a couple of stakes, and a handful of them had turned by now, using their natural means to get at him.

It was too much for him, and he knew it before his body did. Each second hew grew tired and weak, his clothes torn, his exposed skin bloodied and bruised. Soon he was on the floor again, deflecting incoming objects aiming for any vulnerable piece of him.

A sharp blow to the head made his vision go black.

He woke to a searing pain somewhere deep in his head, wincing. Slowly, he was becoming aware of something unusual: he was vertical, but his arms were bound by something behind his back, his head lulled off onto his shoulder. He carefully arched his neck back into position, sore from however long he had been in that position for. There were aches covering his body, and the room he was in smelled of old, damp chambers.

There were strange sounds echoing about the room, most of them blending into one another until he forced his eyes open. He grimaced at the burning, prickling sensation in his arm. Looking over, and now realizing his arms indeed were tied to a pole behind his back, was an intravenous needle lodged in the crook of his arm. His eyes followed the tube to a machine standing a distance away. There was no fluid flowing through the tube, and he wondered if there had been before he woke.

His eyes scanned the room; the lights above were harsh and hurt his eyes like to sun once did. They cast deep shadows into the chambers. As his ears became clearer through the thick fog of his head, he could now make out mumblings of voices around him. The vampires from earlier were standing about as if this were some sort of public alehouse and nothing out of sorts was happening.

His brows stitched together, slowly taking everything in. In front of him against the furthest concrete wall was a large, mounted display as if they often watched film down here. A projector was also propped in front of the screen. He wished he knew what time it was, but the windows had been blocked off by black curtains.

"Ah, you've finally woken…we'd been waiting. I guess things got a little more out of hand than I had intended. I apologize…" Atticarius's slithering voice came from around the corner, and the figure quietly appeared before him. Mitchell scowled at him, feeling his blood boiling beneath his cold skin.

"What is all of this? Why am I here, like this?" Mitchell demanded, trying to wriggle free but his arms were bound by tightly-bound chains.

Atticarius smirked. Mitchell noticed he had changed into a long, black and red gown that had a high collar and nearly cuffed his head. "Oh, I intend to put on a wonderful show for my friends. We're just waiting for the other half to arrive. It's taking a bit longer than I expected."

"I don't understand. Why is there a fucking needle in my arm? What did you do to me?!" He spat, lunging but was only brought back in a snap against the wooden beam.

Everyone in the room laughed at him; the laughing stock of the room.

"No need to worry your cold, dead soul, Mitchell…nothing happened yet. We are only just getting set up…" Atticarius was walking slow circled in front of him, seemingly aware of his taunting.

"Just let me go, and I swear you'll never have to see me again," Mitchell proposed with slight mercy on his tongue. He was foolish to believe this would be a peace treaty.

Atticarius scoffed. "Mitchell, are you aware that you put a stake through the heart of my greatest mentor? Yes, yes, it's so surprising that Herrick and I were a team of sorts, yet you and I had never met. You see, he was only trying to protect me, to raise me up to his prestige, if you will. But no…," in one fleeting step, he swirled around and was a here inch from Mitchell's face. "He chose you."

Mitchell was trying to grasp where he was going with this. He didn't care for the history of this pompous git.

"He chose you, Mitchell…," Atticarius resumed his pacing, hands held behind his back. All the others' eyes were on the scene at hand, so quiet Mitchell nearly forgot they were present. "I was supposed to be his successor, and he chose you. I do not know what qualities he saw, or how you possessed his mind. He promised to raise me as one of his own, and he did…oh, he did. Then he fought tooth and nail to direct you to the flipside; to fall back off the wagon. In that time, he abandoned me. I had no family because he killed my parents for trying to shield me from the truth of what I was. They knew, and they tried their damnedest to distract me from that truth. Herrick saved me; released me back into the world I was meant to flourish in…"

Mitchell was feeling sick to his stomach having to be forced to listen to his groveling.

"…But then you killed him. He put all of his trust in you, and you betray him." Atticarius now stopped, facing Mitchell. His face was spiteful.

Mitchell spat onto the floor. The wound in his mouth had reopened again. "Herrick wanted nothing more than to condemn me to a life of pure self-hate, and to turn everybody I loved against me. Don't you dare try to persuade me otherwise. I knew him probably three lifetimes before you were even born. I don't need to hear your lecturing to know what kind of man Herrick was. He was good to me only when he wanted to use me as leverage…nothing more."

There was a muffled noise upstairs. It sounded like several drunken footsteps stumbling about, and voices could be heard but it was unclear what they were saying.

Atticarius looked up, as some of the others began to stir and a low rumble of voices amongst them.

"Who is it, more of your so-called allies? You're fooling nobody, Atticarius…I can hardly believe any of these pe- "He was sharply cut off by a hush.

Atticarius slowly craned his head to Mitchell. A wicked smirk played at his lips. "Not exactly…the last half of our fun has arrived."

Mitchell glowered, growing more impatient by the minute. Finally, the noise upstairs stopped abruptly and a heavy thud boomed above them, and there was a creaking of the heavy doors that had shut off the stairs to the chambers as they opened. Nobody spoke as they anticipated the arrival of whomever had arrived. It took them some time to enter as the room was cavernous with its many candle-lit passageways.

There was a knock on the door, which was still quite far from where they all coalesced.

"Please, we've been waiting for hours!" Atticarius snapped.

The doors opened, and behind it was Rufus, some other vampire unknown to Mitchell, and Billy, who he had least expected to see walk through the doors. For a moment, it had appeared to Mitchell that Billy was the captive. But once they made eye contact – Mitchell was still uneasy with what had taken place at his flat and with his mates – there was nothing but malice in his eyes. They paused at the doorway; Mitchell was confused.

For a minute, it had appeared that this was their presentation, and Mitchell had not been entirely impressed. But he had not seen that there was still someone else. Rufus and Billy turned around and hunched down, then stuttered backwards. As they came further into the light, there was a human at the end of their grips. They were dragging them in by their ankles. A large sack was placed over their head, and at some point, the ankles had been secured with rope.

Everybody watched as they slid over a wooden chair next to Atticarius, dragged the unconscious body over, picked it up and sat it on the chair. The head drooped to the side. They cinched the body to the chair until they were satisfied.

Billy and Rufus stepped aside to let Atticarius by. He grasped the sack, and ripped it off the face. Atticarius looked at Mitchell contemptuously.

Evelyn.

Mitchell's eyes enlarged with horror, using as much strength as he could to try and get to her lifeless body, but the chains only dug further into his skin.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?!" He spat. Everyone clamored at the catch.

Her hair was a tangled mess. From behind it, Mitchell could see a large gash at her mouth. He hated that it made him salivate. Atticarius watched with intrigue.

"It's simple, Mitchell…. you know we're a grudge-wielding species. I would call this my vengeance, I suppose," Atticarius said with a shrug of his shoulders as if it were the simplest equation.

Mitchell's head shot to his left, staring daggers into the eyes of Billy. "How long have you known about me? Huh?!"

Billy barely flinched. "I played you like the fool you are, Mitchell. I had you at the palm of my hand so many times, but I knew you would sniff me out if I were to act too soon. Also, your girlfriend killed my best mate, so that was the cherry on top, I suppose."

Chest heaving, Mitchell clenched his fists together. His head was spinning; his body was electrified. The smell of blood aggravated him.

Atticarius chuckled. "Go on, Mitchell…you can finish her off. It would make this night that much easier."

Mitchell seethed. He wanted nothing more than to tear the head off the man standing before him, and everyone else in the room. He was shaking.

Before anyone could take their next breath, Atticarius swung around as the back of his hand met Evelyn's face with a sickening noise.

Her body jumped to life and her head swiveled back. Mitchell could see she was breathing heavily, her heart probably bursting from her chest. His eyes glazed over as sorrow filled them.

"Evelyn…" he called quietly. She was alive, but not yet responding. "Evelyn!"

Her body flinched in reaction. There was a little bit of commotion amongst everyone. Atticarius was on standby.

Finally, she slowly lifted her head with a groan. Her hair parted from her face as her wet eyes opened and soaked in the scene before her.

"Can you see me? Evelyn." Mitchell called.

She blew strands of hair away from her face, and it was then, when she found his voice, that her eyes met his.

Mitchell balked, his body wanting to crumble but was unable. The light caught the pendant around her neck. It was George's necklace. His stomach dropped. They invaded their home, and she was alone. She hadn't left for work that morning with the pendant on.

"Mitchell…I saw your note and I was worried. I waited for you but you never came…so I set out to find you…but they found me first," she muttered as her face scrunched at the pain she was in. Everything was beginning to make a little more sense the more she was awake.

His breathing was shallow. "I know…I know, and I'm so sorry, I should have told you, bu- "

"Oh, stop with the sob story, Mitchell. She's a worthless human for crying out loud! What a waste of an opportunity. Why don't you just fuck her and kill her like you did with all your other pretty ladies, eh?" Atticarius spat.

Evelyn's eyes trailed along the room to look at Atticarius, then returned to Mitchell. Atticarius bent over her side, his long fingers caressing her face as they brushed her hair back away from it. A toothy grin creeped onto his face.

"Get your hands off her! I will fucking rip you piece by piece if you lay another hand on her!" Mitchell screamed, struggling against his binds.

Evelyn shivered, her body following suit. She now understood what all had happened, or at least could put the pieces together with how she arrived to this point. Atticarius finally stopped stroking her face, but not before exposing her neck. There was redness and a clear shape of a hand had been around it, as well as four long, parallel lacerations that could only be from fingers.

Mitchell squeezed his eyes together, wishing he could be transported out of here just like the movies. When he opened them again, Evelyn was staring sorrowfully at him.

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry…" his voice cracked.

Evelyn just slightly shook her head, and Mitchell knew she was trying to arrive to an answer of what role Mitchell played in this.

"I was an idiot and thought we could somehow make amends…and we could go about our lives worry-free." Mitchell laughed a sinister laugh, mostly at himself. "I was evidently wrong on all accounts."

Evelyn swallowed; her mouth was dry. "That doesn't matter to me, Mitchell…that you lied. I don't care. I just want to go home." Her voice wavered, merciful.

Out of the corner of their eyes, Atticarius nodded to Rufus. Mitchell frowned. Rufus turned off the overhead lights, leaving just the candlelight to see by. They switched on the power to the projector that had been lying idly in the room.

"Evelyn, when you say you don't care that he lied to you…does that include all of the other lies he has not yet shared with you?" Atticarius's voice was sickeningly bubbly. He apparently enjoyed playing with his bait before biting.

Evelyn refused to respond, so he grabbed her by her hair and jerked her head back so that she was looking straight up into his eyes in the darkness.

"Ah! I don't know what you're referring to! He has been nothing but good to me since I moved here. Your brainwashing is not effective," she shot, to which he released her and scurried over to the projector.

"I have a feeling you may change your mind after this…." He hit the play button. Everyone's attention was on the screen. The handheld video was shaky, first showing nothing but the grass. When it picked up, it was a bunch of young adults appearing to be having a night out getting into riff raff. They were spunky, insulting each other playfully as they walked along the streets at night.

"Mirrorless camera, in case anybody was wondering…" Atticarius chimed.

When the camera zoomed further out, a group of about ten men could be seen. One of them was Mitchell. Evelyn briefly glanced over at him, but his eyes were locked intensely on the video. He did not know what direction this was going to take, but a nagging feeling told him it would not be in his favor.

When the men turned around, their eyes were pitch black. It was no wonder why they all appeared to be on edge by their body language. The orange street lights illuminated their paths.

"Hey, Chuck! The strip at Abbey and Clark are hosting some sort of show downtown tonight…said to be drawing a big crowd," a young vampire, who had to be no older than eighteen years old, cried over to another named Chuck.

Presently, Mitchell was growing more and more uncomfortable, both with his physical position and the video.

The shaky camera bounced with the person holding it. It then landed on Mitchell, who was laughing like a fool. They all broke into a run and there were intermittent cut-outs. In the next clear frame, they were approaching a bustling downtown area. Groups of people were walking every which way, going into this shop and that.

Atticarius's eyes occasionally swept over to watch everyone's reactions…thus far, everyone was still.

It was difficult to hear all that was being said, but somebody was giving direction and dispersing their group in all different directions. They spread out, none of them in-frame anymore. Then the camera man hid himself behind some hedges, the wide angle capturing several of the others figures running amuck.

There was silence…and in an instant, there was chaos: there were a few solitary screams first, and then more and more of the hustling crowd pitched in. People were running, dragging their children with them, tripping. From above, a couple vampires jumped down off rooftops, landing straight on top of the innocent and having their way with them.

Evelyn grimaced. Even though it was at a distance, it was difficult to stomach.

A woman ran in her heels down the pavement, camera following, and one of the vampires tackled her from behind as she screamed bloody murder. Mitchell's chest was heaving from where he stood in the room, watching.

The camera then shifted, scrolling along the road and picking up a pace as it stopped near an intersection. One of the vampires was down the road, making his way at a fast pace. A few of the others were also making their way in the same direction. In the background, it was evident that there was still struggle from the hollers of people dying.

A car was coming down the perpendicular road, heading straight toward the group. An innocent car full of people who had no idea….

And in a swift movement, the vampires crowded the incoming car. Four of them jumped in front of it and brought it to a sudden halt. The car jerked back as if it had made impact with a brick wall. It appeared that another vampire took a pocket knife to one of the front tires as the car slightly descended at an angle.

One of the vampires jumped onto the top of it, punching his fist into the sunroof. The camera zoomed in. Mitchell. Finally, the headlights were disabled, and the glare on the camera dissipated.

Evelyn's heart began to race. Her eyes dilated. It was her parent's car. Her head whipped up to Mitchell, who was barely watching now. She refused to look back at the screen, hanging her head. She would not and could not believe this was the way her parents had died. After all this time…

Atticarius immediately grabbed her face roughly and brought it back up to watch.

"No! I can't watch it! I CAN'T!" She screamed, breaking the deafening silence of the crowd in the room. Mitchell snapped out of his trance, eyes on her. He was not yet aware of the significance of the video.

"You will watch and you will learn the truth! Since you feel Mitchell is so honest with you…see his true self!" Atticarius grinned a toothy grin.

The video was becoming too gruesome, even for Mitchell. He was never proud of what he did in his past, yet he constantly repeated his mistakes over and over again until the last several years when he was nearly completely clean.

In the video, Mitchell grabbed her father. It looked as if they were having a fiery conversation, at least on Mitchell's end, but it was impossible to hear with the wind in the microphone of the camera.

"Oh, Mitchell…" came Atticarius's smooth, vile voice. "How could you do that to her parents?"

Evelyn took advantage of the loosening of Atticarius's grip, and snapped her head away just as there was the faint cry of her father. Tears poured down her face as she avoided eye contact with Mitchell. Next was her mother, but then followed the sound of police sirens and in the video, the vampire group diffused into the darkness away from the scene.

His breathing was labored and he was sweating profusely. He had stopped watching a short time ago, unable to stomach what he had expected was going to happen. He hadn't understood the purpose of the video until now. It was his ultimate punishment to be spared of the few people he had left to love, and who had come to love him unconditionally. All his efforts in living a normal life again had been reversed in a short span of time. Years had passed where he had finally rebuilt his life. His eyes began to water. Evelyn was sobbing quietly in her chair now as the projector was switched off.

"Now, now…there's no need to cry. Although, it's a shame when someone you love is actually the person you hate the most," Atticarius hissed at Evelyn as he approached Mitchell. Mitchell looked up at him under his thick eyebrows, his body aching with the utmost resentment he could muster.

Atticarius motioned for Rufus to come over. In his hands was a plastic bag, maroon in color with white bits of substance floating about. Rufus began hooking everything up to the machine that led to the needle in Mitchell's arm.

"What are you doing?" Mitchell growled.

"Oh, just offering you a taste of the suffering that you've always deserved." They all watched as the machine was turned on. Mitchell began to panic.

"NO! You can't do this to me!" He thrust his shoulder forward, trying his hardest to get the chains loose. He was trapped.

Evelyn now looked up to see what was happening, her face remorseful and concerned. "What are you going to do? Stop!" She yelled.

Atticarius turned on his heel to backhand her again, then spoke between his teeth: "He deserves this! Were you not paying attention? He killed your parents! Because of him, your life was lonely and miserable and you were left with nothing!"

Her body quivered, unsure how much more she could handle before completely collapsing. Her back was aching from being tied to the chair. She slowly turned back around, and this time her eyes met Mitchell's. His eyes were wet and bloodshot, his mouth turned down, and he slowly shook his head with sheer heartbreak.

"I'm so sorry, Evelyn…I had no idea…" He trailed, his voice catching in his throat.

She sat speechless, unable to find the words.

"No idea?" Atticarius taunted. "How long are you going to use that ex- "

"SHUT UP!" Mitchell howled, taking Atticarius back.

It was shrugged off however. He gave Rufus a nod, and the red liquid seeped its way down the tube, ebbing its way into Mitchell's arm. Evelyn fiddled with the rope at her wrists, trying her best to contort her fingers to try and free herself all while hoping nobody was watching her. She tried to appear as less of a threat as possible.

For a little while, everyone watched as nothing happened. But then, Mitchell's body jerked and his breathing was heavy. He grit his teeth together, the concoction warming beneath his skin.

A low rumble of a laugh erupted from Atticarius's chest. Evelyn bit her tongue, a sob caught in her chest as she wanted to keep the attention to her at bay while she tried to free her arms. She watched as Mitchell struggled against the post that was holding him upright, wishing she could help him despite the hurt that she felt against him.

"An opiate cocktail, my friend. Your loyal friend Billy here told me all about your other addiction. We put together a delicious combination of all of the substances you were, at one time or another, unable to live without," he beamed, appearing expressly proud of himself. "What it will do is feed you your precious blood, but will shut down your body all the same so you suffer from the inside."

When Evelyn looked over at Mitchell again, his eyes were black. She was horror stricken that she was being forced to sit through yet another torturous event. The only thing left she could think of would be sacrificing her life. It was impossible to reach the bondage. Mitchell began crying out, slinking against the beam. He was yelling louder than she had ever heard, but his body was shrinking toward the floor so that he now was being suspended by his wrists. The crowd around them began to cheer.

"You're poisoning him!" Evelyn shrieked, aghast. Atticarius simply stood by, waiting for Mitchell's body to give up.

By now Mitchell was sweating profusely, and his body was giving way. His brain was begging for blood, yet his body was weakening against the opiates. It felt as if his skin were tearing from the inside out.

"Please stop!" She yelled again, leaning forward in her chair as if he would hear her better.

Atticarius kept his eyes on Mitchell, but spoke to her. "What would you do to let that happen? Don't you think he should endure the same heartache he caused you?"

Choking, she began to beg, much to her dismay. Her heart was torn. She was profoundly hurt to learn of the real death of her parents, that it was caused by someone she loved early, but never to the point that she would wish to seek revenge. It all made sense to her now, why her mother had been in a vegetable state mentally. She had been in shock and was traumatized by it all, plus the death of her husband who sat next to her that night. They had been trying to work their relationship out to try and revive the marriage they once had.

"Just tell me what I need to do…and I'll do it," she muttered, her throat raw. Mitchell's body slumped further, his eyes closed and his head drooping. She was losing him.

Finally, she had Atticarius's undivided attention now. "Anything, hm?"

Hesitating, she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, unknowing what she was getting herself into. He circled her and the crowd died down. Walking behind her, she heard a ripping sound and her arms fell back to her sides. She sighed with relief at the give of her muscles. Before she could begin to get her hopes up, she looked up at him. He placed a sharp wooden stake in her hands.

Her eyes slowly trailed along the room, landing on the piece in her hands. She felt herself begin to cry uncontrollably now, to the point where she was nearly suffocating from lack of air. She shook her head violently.

"You said anything!" He growled.

Her wet, sore eyes scanned the crowd around her. Most of the faces were staring back at her with anticipation, but there was one who stood out to her. His face wasn't so vile; in fact, it was kind. He stood at the back of the group, watching her. Somehow she felt as if he were trying to get her attention without drawing any onto himself. How she wished she could call out to him as her last hope…

(to be continued …)