VII. The Hunt
The girl's parents were fighting again. She hated it when they fought.
The girl overheard them when she had snuck down in the night, a record of Mozart's The Magic Flute clutched tightly to her chest. The girl had hoped to listen to it despite it being past her bedtime, as she couldn't sleep. Usually her mother would allow her to do so on rough nights like this, whereupon the two of them would curl up on the couch and listen to the wonderful music fill the living room. She would then fall asleep in her mother's warm arms, feeling completely safe and able to forget all about the awful headaches that struck her almost every night.
"Damn it, Ada," she heard her father's voice say. Although he tried to keep his volume low, the anger was very evident in its deep timbre. "I thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore."
"No, you decided that, Anton." Her mother's voice, though softer, was equally incensed. "It is getting worse out there and you know it. Your brothers' shops were attacked, for goodness sake. And those SA thugs were responsible!"
"This will pass, it always does. It was the same right after the war, times are tough now and people are angry. After things get better, Hitler and his dogs will be tossed out, you will see. They use fear to intimidate, but they are wolves without fangs. If we show our fear of them, then they will always win."
"Anton, I tell you this is not like before! The entire country is going mad, and to stay means being swept along with the madness!"
"And what would you have us do, huh, Ada?" Her father's voice had gotten louder now, and he was no longer keeping his voice down. "Would you have us flee? Leave our home, our friends and family, leave our country behind?"
"Yes! Yes, if it means keeping this family safe!" Her mother had also begun shouting, her anger and fear making her voice quiver.
"No, no! I will not run! I am a German, damn it. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. I served ten years in this country's military, that should damn well fucking count for something!"
There was silence for a long time in the room, as her parents calmed down and attempted to clear their heads. The girl continued to stand where she was outside the door and listening in, the recording of The Magic Flute clutched tightly to her chest. Tears had begun to drip down her face as she so hated to hear her parents fighting. Especially when they shouted. Especially when she could not understand what they were so angry and frightened of.
"We don't have to leave for good," her mother continued. The woman's voice sounded a bit calmer now, though no less scared. "We can go to England, live with my aunt and uncle for a bit. Only until this madness is over with!"
Her father laughed, though it was not a laugh of mirth but of bitterness. "Your uncle, huh? You mean the same uncle who called me a dirty Jew on our wedding day? That uncle, Ada?"
The girl's parents continued arguing into the night. Eventually, she grew tired of listening and went back up to her room. The headaches, as awful as they were, was much preferable to hearing her parents argue about things she did not understand.
0
Rip Van Winkle's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was darkness. Always the darkness. The darkness had been with her for so long that she couldn't even remember waking to anything other than the black void in front of her. It was so familiar, so safe. And yet she hated it. Hated that she felt so comfortable with it.
Pretty soon, the pure black began to be replaced by various shapes as her vampiric eyes adjusted. She saw the dull black shape of the stone walls of her sleeping area, the coarse black cloth of her makeshift cot. She saw her musket, another black shape among many black shapes. Vampire nightvision was like that, varying shades of black on a black background. She wasn't even sure if she could call it vision per say as there was absolutely no light whatsoever. But her eyes could differentiate one patch of black from another; this was how vampires like her could see in complete and utter darkness.
Her gloveless hands reached up to her face, her fingertips touching wet skin. Yes, tears again. Will they ever end?
The dreams came again, despite the fact that she had fed. Although the dream wasn't too horrible, it was the memories that came with them that made such visions so painful. She didn't want to remember. What mattered to her was the now; she was an officer of Millennium, that was all that mattered. What came before was best forgotten, as all things dead usually were.
Rip sat up on her cot, pushing long black strands of hair away from her eyes. The orbs glowed blue in the darkness, two lanterns of azure in unending black. The small room she was using as a sleeping area was empty, as it had been for centuries, except for her few meager possession. Her musket, of course, was lying by her cot. Her recently procured parasol was leaning against the wall near the entrance. The blankets and sheets she used for bedding. Her boots and gloves. Her glasses.
She idly noticed that there was a small red stain on her shirt. She rubbed at it with a fingertip, but it stubbornly refused to come off. It was obviously from last night's kill; Rip frowned, annoyed that she had stained her only shirt. She was usually a bit tidier when she fed, but last night's hunt was met with all sorts of complications. Thus, she hadn't been as careful with her table manners since she had been pressed for time.
It all started with that blue haired girl. The quiet one with the dragon. It was sometime past midnight, and Rip was preparing to depart to go on her hunt. Her senses detected the girl and her beast flying around the skies above Academy. At first, she thought that the girl was merely out enjoying a flight with her familiar, but the two of them kept circling overhead, seemingly searching for something. Rip didn't know what she was up to, nor did she care. She had to wait until the girl finally retired for the night, as she could not afford to be spotted leaving the castle grounds. Only when her senses were sure that the blue haired girl was safely asleep in her bed did she move.
The power coming from the familiar runes amazed her even now. With a speed she had never known before, Rip ran swiftly into the night. She avoided the roads and sped through the thick woodland instead, where no human eyes could spot her. She was a black blur under the light of the twin moons, moving faster than any vampire she had ever seen except for Luke Valentine. It felt amazing to run that fast, to feel the air part as she cut through it, to be unnoticed except for the wind left in her wake. She felt like a true hunter, a demon of the night.
She made it to the capital city in under half an hour. The settlement was pretty much what she would have expected from a pre-industrial settlement. It had a set of walls manned by a contingent of bored guardsmen. Most of the streets were narrow, with the exception of the main thoroughfares which had to be wide enough to handle the traffic of various goods-laden wagons.
At the moment though, most of the streets were quiet and empty. Unlike the modern cities of Earth, the vast majority of the citizenry were asleep in their beds at such a late hour. Only the sentries and criminals were out and about.
Oh, and vampires, of course. Rip leapt from rooftop to rooftop, looking for prey. She would have preferred to be less conspicuous and stick to the shadows of the streets and alleyways while she hunted, but unfortunately because of her earlier delay, the dawn was fast approaching. It was vital that she get back to the Academy while the sun was still down. Thankfully, her senses were astute as ever and she was able to zero in on an unfortunate soul.
Rip had kept her hunt to the poorer parts of the city, as the richer areas were more likely to be patrolled. She was in a dilapidated part of the slums, one that had a nearby tavern, which was probably why the poor fool she found was passed out in the middle of a dank, dirty alley. The Vampire leapt down from the roofs, her boots making absolutely no sound as she landed atop the cobblestones in a crouch. She checked over the man, and found him to be a rather portly fellow whose course clothing meant that he was either a day laborer or some tradesman. Her fangs grew long as she smelled him, her ears able to hear the strong beating of his heart. There was the stench of alcohol on his breath, but that didn't matter to her; after all, it's not like she could get drunk. She actually found that booze gave the blood a bit of extra flavor, sort of sour yet with a sweet aftertaste.
"Oh, who vould leave such a pretty buffet here, all alone, by himself?" she had asked the night. "Ah vell, finders keepers..."
Before she dug in, Rip spread out her second sight, just to make sure that she was truly alone. After a second of perusing, the vampire saw that the neighborhood was clear. Even though there were humans nearby, they were all asleep, comfy in their beds. She was good to go. Her lips twisted into a sinister grin, teeth lengthening to razor sharpness. Leaning in, the vampire pressed her lips against the man's warm neck. The mockery of a kiss didn't last for too long, as her jaw opened then closed with a snap. Shark-like teeth sank into soft flesh, and soon the scarlet blood began to flow.
To vampires the act of feeding from human prey is perhaps the closest thing their damned souls could hold as sacred. To them, drinking blood is everything; it is how they eat, how they drink, how they reproduce. It is equal parts sating thirst, gorging hunger, achieving sexual release and spiritual nirvana. But it is also when feeding that they are at their most vulnerable. All their attention and being is put into the act, and thus they often fail to notice their surroundings.
That was how the guardsman had found her. He was probably doing his rounds, checking the streets for riff raff, when he heard the noise of her feeding. As the hour was late, the alleyways were pitch black. Though he had a lantern with him, the light provided by the single candle was very dim. Because of this, he didn't know what to make of the sight of two shadows upon the ground moving about. At first he thought it was one of the local whores giving her client a good time. But as he got closer...
"Oi! What's going on here?" He asked aloud, hoping to break up the fun. But then the light from his lamp fell upon the figure of the dark-haired woman with glowing blue eyes, her mouth clamped tightly over a pale man's bleeding neck. The guardsman sputtered and backed away from the sight, gasping madly in fright. "G-good God! Founder help me!" The man scrambled backwards and tried to draw his sword, but it was already too late.
As soon as Rip heard his voice, the vampire pulled her fanged mouth off of the fat laborer's neck. Blood spurted everywhere, but she had already begun moving before any of the scarlet drops could splatter her. She used her considerable speed to dash forwards, her right hand lashing out and clamping shut on the guardsman's neck. Her momentum carried both of them over to the other side of the alley, where she slammed his form against the brick wall. There she held him, grip tight on his jaw, whilst her other hand clutched at her musket.
"N-n-no... God... no..." The guardsman sputtered, dropping his sword as he desperately tried to pry Rip's vice like grip from his neck. The vampire watched him struggle, her mind still partly in a feeding haze. The man she held was young and quite handsome. He also seemed healthier than her earlier meal, as she could tell from the strong thumping of his racing heart. "Please... please," the young man pleaded with her, hoping that the monster before him would have pity and spare his life.
"Shhhh," Rip cooed as she leaned in, breathing in his scent. The smell of him made her mind heady with lust, and her mouth salivated with passion. She pushed his jaw to one side, baring his tanned neck. She opened her mouth, revealing rows of knife-sharp fangs; from this jagged maw emerged her long, serpentine tongue. It licked at the air, tasting the blood on the wind, before slithering forwards and slathering against the exposed skin of his neck. The man flinched and whimpered, muttering a soft prayer under his breath. As she licked, enjoying the salty taste of his perspiration. When she felt the strength of his pulse beating against her tongue, her blood lust soared and she saw red. With a snarl, the vampire bit down and the man gasped in pain. She drank. His body began to feel lighter and lighter in her grip as she sucked his lifeblood within her.
The dark deed was finished within twelve minutes. The vampire released her grip on the guardsman and he fell to the alley floor like a rough sack of potatoes. Rip shivered in pleasure at the feeling of being fully fed; it was a tingling feeling, one that radiated from her chest and outwards into her limbs.
The vampire glanced over at her first meal, and saw the laborer's form convulsing. His pale face gasped, blood dripping from his mouth, and his eyes were wide open but glazed with death. Rip sighed in annoyance when she realized that she had left the man alive while she dealt with the guardsman. Already, she could feel the transformation occurring, and soon the fat drunk would be a full-fledged ghoul if she didn't act.
Rip reached down and picked up the dead guardsman's sword. She then walked over to her first victim and began hacking away. First she sliced through his neck and severed the head, making sure to avoid the splash of blood. Then came the limbs and finally the torso. Thankfully the man had already been partially drained, so the mess wasn't too bad. It was still a nuisance though. She had originally planned on carrying the body into the woods, where she would dismember it in order to avoid having the pieces found. Oh well, it couldn't be helped.
She quickly went over to the guardsman and did the same to him. Since his body was completely drained, there were no blood splashes. In order to cover her tracks a bit more, she tossed the guard's pieces onto the mess that was her first victim. Hopefully the authorities wouldn't be able to tell that all the blood at the scene had only come from one body.
The trip back to the Academy was as quiet as the first, though this time she pushed herself to move more swiftly. Dawn was swiftly approaching and it would be much, much harder to sneak back into the castle with the sun up.
And so her first venture out into the world outside the Academy had occurred. True, it hadn't all gone according to her plan, but at least she hadn't been caught. And she did accomplished what she had set out to do, despite all the minor setbacks.
Sadly, the blood hadn't kept the dreams away. Rip knew that the dreams would keep coming and coming every time she slept, and that the scenes they show would continue to get worse and worse until she would go mad.
Four pills left. She needed to save them. Save them for the truly bad nightmares. Save them for
Her blond hair, stained in blood.
The feel of the smoking pistol, heavy in her hand.
The sound of her father's voice in her ear, so distraught. "I'm sorry."
Yes. She would save them.