Bloodlust: Sliver of Moonlight

4

The last thing Damien remembered was falling. And falling fast. He fell weightless, almost flying. Except not nearly as fun. Damien fell for what seemed like hours, the only thing he could feel was the piece of the floor that came with him.

Today is fantastic, Damien thought as he kept falling, Not only did I just lose my job, but I'm probably going to die. Perfect.

Damien felt himself still falling until he hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Damien lightly groaned, pain shooting up from his back. Then, one of the falling pieces of debris fell next to him, leaving a huge gash in his arm. Damien howled in pain, blood slowly oozing out from the open wound. Damien stripped off his hazmat suit and ripped a large piece of it off. He tied it around the gash to try and stop the bleeding. Damien grimaced, his blood raining down his arm. He looked around to find some sort of exit. To his surprise, he sees a a small speck of light to his right.

There's for home, Damien sighed and began limping toward the light. Each step was taxing to him, his arm still throbbing from pain. His back still ached from the fall, and his head felt heavy, almost as if he might pass out. As he walked, the light began to grow brighter and bigger. Before he got to the end, however, something tripped him. He tumbled to the floor face first, cursing.

"The hell," Damien groaned lightly, standing up. He turned and saw a man sitting down on the ground, legs stretched out. He looked very old with his pale, wrinkly skin and shaggy grey hair. When the man saw Damien, he stood up shakily.

"Are you ok, lad?" the old man asked, looking concerned.

"I'll live," Damien sighed, "But I need to get home. Or at least find a medic."

"What happened?" the old man asked, walking closer to Damien. Damien sighed and showed the old man his arm: the blood began to seep through the makeshift wrap.

"The ground just caved in beneath me," Damien winced, "I fell and something cut my arm..." his voice trailed off when he took a gaze at the old man's face. The old man expression contorted into one of hunger. His distant blue eyes suddenly faded into a deep shade of red. Before Damien could react, the old man lunged at him. He knocked Damien onto the floor, pinning his wounded arm to the ground. The old man smiled, showing off two not-before-seen fangs that protruded out of his mouth.

"What the fuck?!" Damien hollered, struggling to get free from his grasp. The man got closer and closer to Damien's arm, licking his lips hungrily. Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver knife and stabbed the man through the skull. The man howled, backing away from Damien. The man writhed in pain, his skin glowing until he burst into ash. Damien crawled away from the pile of ash.

What in the actual fuck just happened? Damien thought, panting hard, He just...blew up into dust. Like a goddamn vampire.

Damien stood up, and walked away, picking up his knife from the clump of dust. He kept walking towards the light and finally made it. He shielded his eyes for a second, and then dropped his hand.

"Oh...my...fuck...," Damien breathed. He stood in the opening of a cave that led into a city. Even with no sun, the city glowed with a natural bright light. People clamored in and out the streets, living their lives like nothing is wrong. In the distance, Damien could see a large castle, emanating a red aura. Damien walked into the crowded streets, trying to keep himself secret. He looked around at the people that walked near him. They all were pale like the old man, with red glowing eyes.

Vampires, Damien said, Vampires. Everywhere...vampires.

Damien slipped from the streets into a dark alley, his arm still stinging from pain. He sighed until he saw a bright light shining in his face.

"You there!" a voice called to him, "Stay right where you are!" Damien yelped in surprise, and took off running into the streets. He pushed pedestrians aside as he tried to make a break for the place he came from. He almost made it when he felt a rush of wind knock him over on his face.

"Stay right where you are," the person said, wrapping Damien's arms with a rope, "You are trespassing. And therefore must go to the king and queen for punishment."

Damien groaned, his arms being pulled tightly by the person behind him.

"Let's go," the voice said, pulling Damien to his feet and pushing him towards the red castle.

"Fascists," Damien huffed.