The shock-induced trance was shattered when the stranger started shaking me by my shoulders. I lashed out at him, flaying my legs and arms about. He overpowered me with his heavier body mass and held my arms behind my back. Instinctively, I twisted my upper body and connected a round house kick to his midriff and a right hook to his shapely jaw. He staggered back from the forces of the hits, but collected himself before he could fall flat on his ass. He gaped at me with a curious countenance, realizing that I was no damsel-in-distress.
"Um...I'm sorry?" I stuttered.
"All is forgiven." He replied, his eyes alight with curiosity.
A groan coming from the side broke the awkward silence. The hairs on my neck stood up.
I rushed to my father's side and called out "Daddy" with a desperate fervor. He groaned again.
"Water!" I shouted.
I got no reply.
"Get me some water, damn it" I turned back as I repeated the demand. But, the man stood still. I was going to shout it again, when he started running at me. My father had bolted upright and was staring at me with undisguised bloodlust in his hungry, red eyes. I stood there, my feat fixed to the ground, all willingness to fight back draining out. I felt a pair of strong hands pulling me away.
My father stumbled back and gazed at me, horrified at his own actions.
"Ally..." He croaked out, in a broken whisper. A juxtaposition of contrasting emotions flitted across the eyes of the monster that my father had become. Remorse, guilt, self-accusation, grief contrasted the
raw, unbridled thirst for human blood. His blood-red eyes gazed into my amber ones. My heartbeat increased and I knew he could hear each thump. An uninhibited wildness took over his features. And, in the next instant, he was wrecked with such staggering shame that I had to look away.
The man assumed a protective stance before me, pulling me behind his big frame. He wielded his bloodied stake like a sword in front of him.
"Alice, I'm sorry, for everything. You've always taken care of me, when I should have been the one to look after you. I failed, Alice...But, please, kill me." Daddy's voice was heavy with emotions.
I refused to look at my father. I stared at my dirty feet instead.
"Alice, please, look at me." He implored.
"Dad…"
"Alice, please, free me." And, those were the last words that my father ever said to me. With that, he looked down, defeated and lost.
Average teenage girls receive everything from chocolates, to flowers, to cars on their birthdays. But, on my 'sweet' sixteenth, my father had gifted me his prized, rusty machete. And, it was the best present I could have wished for, so I thought at the time. But, now, as I recovered my machete lying at a distance, it felt so heavy in my hands. My hands shook and I really wished, no, prayed that I would wake up from the nightmare.
"Alice, you don't have to…" the stranger started saying.
"No." I interjected brusquely.
The hunting business is really hard and cruel. Emotions only get you killed. A good hunter never feels and finishes her job quickly, cleanly and without remorse, because, you wear guilt like shackles on your feet. That is why I did. I stopped feeling, as I severed my father's head. I did not hear his pained gasp. I did not feel his blood on my hands. I did not feel my tears.
AUTHOR'S NOTE : In our story, it takes around 10-15 minutes to complete your transformation into a vampire. Also, the change can be caused when a prey is not drained completely.