The Carrion's Craft

Chapter 3

The vampire's gaze pierced through me like a spear to the chest. It knocked me over as if her powerful aura swiped my legs out from under me. The single bare lightbulb above masked my vision, a veil thrown over me like I inherited a state of death. 

I thought it would only be a matter of seconds before the half-breed pounced and drained me of my blood, or separated my head from my shoulders like Orly over there. But it never happened. Forcing my eyes open I saw that Stragard hadn't moved. Not an inch. She just hummed, muffled and panicked as if she were already caught in a trap. 

The idea of running out the door invaded my mind. Motivating me to clamber to my feet. The Vampire's cries grew more frantic. The curiosity devoured me. I guess I would be out of a job otherwise. Hesitantly I moved closer, Stragard's eyes were sullen, darker than her poster portrayed. At no moment did she stir. She was completely still, only her eyes moved, following me like a bone hung over a puppy's nose.

"Mrs Stragard, can you hear me?" I whispered to her, praying that the neighbours had already left for work. Another sound emanated from her, a response that I could only assume was relief. I didn't know how to process it all. Slowly, I folded the edge of her blanket until her wrist was exposed. Nothing bound her still, instead my cynical disappointment turned to the old swollen marks that dotted on her arms like an infected dalmatian. They were precisely like the ones on Drenin. Then there was the most recent injection mark in her neck, a deep blue mark orbited the entry wound, pulsing through the veins. 

With a sigh, I threw on my gloves and reached for the syringe. A strikingly clear drop of liquid clung precariously to the tip of the needle. It reminded me of Blight. An orange liquid making the rounds for it's hallucinogenic effects and ecstasy. But this was something else, it had to be. Never have I seen a human paralysed by a single needle, let alone a Vampire.

"Was this the only one you had?" I was level with her, objective. My judgement wouldn't be helpful here, not yet anyway. Even though she couldn't speak, Stragard began to perspire, like rain plummeting from the sky. I received another positive answer, adding to my confounding state.  

Returning the syringe back to where I found out, I observed the other one. The contents were similar. The question was, what were they and where did they come from? "I'm going to look around. If the symptoms wear off then let me know...Somehow."

The first thing I did was investigate the man's body. A constricting sickness took hold of me as the mangled face of the man silently screaming stared up at me from the floor. Puddles of blood littered the scene, half as dark as the empty sockets of his head. His eyes had been removed. It reminded me of the Snatcher scenes, of the human victims left sprawling in their own homes with their eyes gouged out. What if this was another scene? But then why was Stragard still alive?

A chill ran up my spine as I caught a glimpse of the woman behind me. She was as still as a corpse. My attention turned to the other half of the cadaver, it looked like he had been attacked by an animal. His neck had been torn apart and his shirt were mere ribbons, hands caked in blood by his sides as his phantom continued to watch the film.

"Fethis!" My name was bellowed from the street. It was so loud that I had to snatch at my own soul as it jumped out of its skin. Hurrying to the window, relief returned to me at the sight of Drenin calling my name up and down the busy street as a cat circled round him. With a curse, I lifted up the window and called him over, grateful for the bug man shutting up as he glanced up at me from the cobblestone.

Before he could say anything, I snapped "Fire escape, now." and disappeared out of sight once again. Two minutes later and Drenin was stalking down the hall with heavy breaths.