By One Drop of Blood

Part 1

I have been to the southern states only a couple of times. I never liked it that much down there. I guess it is the climate. Hot and humid air. Annoying insects as well as lizard the size of the jigsaws I encountered back at that damn witch doctors factory. Aside of the animals and climate the people are of a different culture and manners as us northstatelers. People down herein value other things. Down here the customs and jurisdiction build a whole different mentality of patriotism. To different states of mind are constructed to create tensions between the two. The north is as I would describe it more unionised. The south got its own way of life to it. They talk a lot about hospitality and solidarity. To the contrary I have not experienced much of that. Each town we came to we were not regarded as honoured soldiers but as occupation force. Not only once were we confronted and told to leave the area. I have started to wear a cavalry hat again. In the hot climate of the bayou a hat is a necessity because of the strong sun rays. On this mission we are only on patrol so to speak. Riding alongside the swamp streets we watch out on sightings of paranormal activities. Word of the region reached to the governor who called us on behalf of a threat to the national security. While the north is mostly civilised and rid of any large threat to humanity the south is still feral. Not only the talk about a vampire but also sightings of wendigos and even fish men who we drove back into the oceans a couple months ago. I bet the damn things plot the next attack already. Inside the swamps live mosquitoes as big as a fist and crocodiles that devour cows. Fearful critters have been a steady part of the frontier. Telling of now free people who were once slaves told stories of masters eating the men in their property. It is a tricky situation regarding the legal framework. While holding slaves and even killing them is allowed as long as it is no of no spiteful intent but eating them is a crime under the point of cannibalism and barbarism. For a few days we ride down the small roads and occasionally march down the swamps we eventually run into something that demands our attention. A slave who fled his owner. Down here the act of escaping is illegal and punishable by torture or death. The man is in a frenzy and stumbled right into us. All of us soldiers, white men dressed and armed to the teeth with guns and blades he could have not mistaken us for the very people send to capture him and drag him back into his prison. We try to calm him down with our hands raised to signal him no harmful intent. His breath only a close before bursting his chest he comes to his senses and calms down a bit. He retains suspicion against us until we can tell him who we are. We explain that we are soldiers form the north and will not send him back to the plantation. We reach him food and water. As we sit down together he begins to talk about his experiences. He says his name is Wilmington and he worked on a plantation a few miles away. Talking about how his brothers and sisters disappeared, but they were not sold away as usual but just vanished. Rumours spread around the slaves until he saw what had taken his people. At night he woke up from his sleep. He saw a large shadow moving across the celling inside the barn. The shadow grew in size as it descended from right above him. As it came closer the facial features of the shadow became visible. Glowing red eyes, sharp jaw lines and two large fangs in an open mouth snapped at his neck. He punched at the shadow, tried to fight it of. Around him the other slaves rose and helped him in fending of the shadow. In an instant the whole barn was awake and so the shadow fled back into the night. The guards entered the barn and suppressed any hysteria. They told the slaves to lay down again but the men and woman were already frightened and wanted to flee. Despite the gunshots fired onto them Wilmington and his people ran into the night. He said that around twenty slaves escaped with with but that he lost contact to all of them. As he turns his head the clear signs of a vampire attack. He had a two pointed injury on his neck and his blood was still running down his neck. The men and I exchange looks because we all know have has come over the man. And we are certain now that our deployment is very well needed. First we need to wait for what is about to happen with the man. From his statement the events happened just some hours ago. He escaped and ran until he ended up here. He can not have lost to much blood otherwise he would have passed out already. But if the vampire has already sucked blood the chance of infection of Sanguinare Vampiris, the disease that leads to becoming a vampire. Thanks to the many keen scholars in the old world researching vampirism, the effects of being bitten my a vampire is very well understood. Being bitten alone does not mark someone for death but they will still experience symptoms of sickness that can lead to death. From nausea up to straight poisoning everything is possible after being bitten. Usually the victims get sick and are unable to do the simplest of tasks. Sadly we can not really help him from here on out. We can just give him the best advices and lead him on his way into freedom. We tell him that we can not take him into the north because the act of not reporting a fled slave in punishable. But what we could do is give him food and drinks so his way would be a bit easier. Usually the words of slaves are dismissed as superstition and not followed any further. For sure there is a part of truth to the reports of slaves that speak of their masters murdering or torturing them. The inhuman conditions that are prevalent but not worked against.