Vampire Agent (English Version)

Prologue

Jack

It was Tuesday at noon, exactly twelve o'clock.
I heard my cell phone alarm clock ring, why had I even turned it on?
I had been awake since five in the morning and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since. That alone was the reason I had been ready to leave for hours, even though my flight wasn't for another two hours.
Restlessly, I paced around the bedroom, my gaze constantly fixed on the clock.
One could think that I should try to disguise myself, but nevertheless I was dressed as I had been a week ago.
An elegant black suit, white shirt and black patent leather shoes.
I took a look in my mirror, although, strictly speaking, it was the mirror of the hotel I had been staying in for a few days. For a secret agent on the run, a big hotel on the outskirts of New York was probably not the best place to hide.
Life as an agent is not too exciting, not like you knew it from the James Bond movies.
It's basically nothing more than an office job where you get cut up files so you can't figure anything out for yourself. But when I found out about some secret information, I got curious, too curious. I stole a flash drive with data and holed up in here, afraid one of my old colleagues might break down the door and kill me.
Panic-stricken, I paced up and down the room, gathering everything I needed for a new life. My passport, ID card, resume and all other papers were fake.

Once again I went through the list in my head, then grabbed my luggage and left the room. I locked the door, dropped the key on the counter with some bills and disappeared through the revolving door of the hotel. Briskly, I strode across the street and hailed a cab. I instructed the driver to take me to the airport.
Still an hour and a half to go....
Just enough time to get through downtown and the checkpoint.

In a musty cab, on the way to the airport, with secret information in my pocket and most likely a murderer on my tail, this was not how I had imagined my life.

I had wanted a more active job.... However, in retrospect, I preferred my desk. I mean: What was I supposed to do with this data? Sell it? Destroy it?
All options I should have thought about beforehand.
The driver braked hard and my heart began to race. My luggage was thrown against me in the jolt and hit me hard on the knee.
Then a bang sounded.
I knocked on the divider to the driver's side in panic, but the driver was hanging his head on the handlebars, blood pouring from a bullet wound on his temple.

"Shit!", I cursed softly and ducked.
They had found me.
All around, other motorists honked their horns.
A shadow loomed outside the tinted window.

"Please don't!", I prayed and jumped out of the car door on the other side of the cab.
I sprinted onto the sidewalk, a figure in a black cape following me.
I ran into the pedestrian zone, not caring about the insults and shouts of the people I bumped into.
I knew I was going to die, but I didn't want to do it in public.
Not in front of kids and adults who might need to go into treatment traumatized, so I turned sharply into a side alley and thank God it was deserted. No teenage gangs, no homeless people, no one.

I looked around for my pursuer and bumped into a trash can.
It crashed to the ground with a clang, as did I.

Sprawled out, I landed on my stomach as my pursuer approached.
I turned onto my back and took in him in a panic. He had a black hat pulled low on his face and was wearing sunglasses. His cloak - or was it just a wide-cut coat? - reached just above the ground.
He approached slowly and relaxed, almost as if he wanted to start a chat with an old friend. He moved elegantly and silently, reminding me of a cat stalking its prey.
I tried to break free of my rigidity, but could not move.

"Who are you?", I asked in a brittle voice, the only thing I was capable of and in retrospect a very pathetic question.

"What do you want to know for? You probably realize the position you're in. Just don't do anything stupid and I'll be generous," said the pursuer.
It was one hundred percent a man, because his voice was deep and hypnotic.
He stopped in front of me and squatted down.
A black-gloved hand closed around my throat.

"Generous?" a spark of doubtful hope flared in my chest.

"Generous in the sense of, I'll make it quick and painless. As good as.", the man explained. He lifted me up by the neck and pushed me against the wall of the house. He was much too strong for a normal human being, I had never encountered a full-grown 95 kilo man dangling 30 cm above the ground without any problems. A whimper escaped my throat as my air was cut off.

"Just think of something nice," the man advised, tears welling up in my eyes, "And don't you dare make a fuss," he added with a growl. I thought of my secretary, with her light brown eyes and dark blond hair....
But I pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come to me, it was too painful.
Instead, I studied my counterpart's face one last time. He was pale and thin, almost gaunt. Distinctive features stood out in his jawline and he still seemed relatively young.
His facial expression was expressionless, somehow frightening. And even up close, I couldn't peek through the dark lenses of his glasses. Then the man smiled and bared pointed, unusually long canines.

"What the...?" but before I could finish my question, those canines were already digging into my throat.
It burned like acid and turned into a pleasant, steady suction.
My consciousness faded, along with panic and pain.
One last time I thought of my secretary's dark blond, straight hair, of her soft voice that had invited me to dinner last week.
How gladly I would have accepted....
Then everything went black and I knew that I was dead.