Blood & Grease

Capitolo Primo

Venice, Italy
1954

      The Moretti mansion towered above the two vampires; reduced to an inky silhouette in the moonlight.  Antonio and Benito were crouched in the garden surrounding the property, deliberating on their plan of attack.
      "Antonio," the smaller vampire hissed.  "This is way too risky.  Remember the last time we tried to take down the Morettis?"
      Antonio elbowed Benito in the ribs, as a way of urging him to sit down and shut up.  "That was, what, over a hundred years ago?" he retorted.  "And it's not like they found us out, anyways.  Besides, the family just gets dumber over the generations.  We'll take 'em down easy."
      "Is it all worth it, though?" Benito's voice came out as a harsh whisper.  He was getting more and more frustrated with Antonio's antics.  "We don't need some huge, fancy dimora, Antonio.  We don't need anything but each other, remember?"  That last phrase came out sounding a little less annoyed, and a little more hopeful.  Benito glanced up into Antonio's maroon eyes, which were illuminated in the dark; shining as a cat's might. 
      Antonio rejected Benito's gaze, finally standing up and brushing himself off.  "I'm sick of living on abandoned farms and on the streets.  Now, come on, we can do this."
      Benito sighed, knowing full well that he had lost the battle.  Though Antonio was a blockhead, he did know what he was doing.  The two of them had been planning this for months: kill the rich Moretti family, take their mansion and all their money.  At the time, it seemed like a bright idea to him.  A spectacular idea, even.  Benito would admit that he actually was sick of living a reclusive, blood-bathed life; going from one kill to the next.  He never asked to be this way.  And sometimes, he even resented Antonio for it.  But to Benito, his friend's wild plans seemed like all talk and no action.  Last time they had actually attempted killing off the Morettis, they were chased off the property; the prior generation had assumed they were simply young troublemakers.  The mission required stealth, and back then, neither of them had realized that.  And so they gave up.
      Yet, here they were; standing out front of the mansion in the dark of night, ready to attack.
The pair stalked towards the mansion until they reached the far wall, pressing themselves up against the cool red brick. All of the lights in the house were off, meaning the Morettis were fast asleep. Perfect.
We can take them out before they even realize what's happening, Benito thought to himself, mildly relieved.
      The two vampires scaled the side of the mansion until they reached the first large window.  Antonio picked the lock with ease, then signaled to Benito as he crawled through the cramped opening; and Benito followed, slipping into the room without a sound. 
      The room they had entered was Signore and Signora Moretti's sleeping quarters.  From what they had observed recently and from what they already knew about the history of the family, this Moretti generation were older than dirt and stuck-up as hell. It wouldn't be too physically or emotionally grueling to drain them; but still, Benito felt that same distinctive itch of guilt every time he took a human life.
The Morettis were still as death in their lavish queen-sized bed, almost as if they were already lifeless. The only thing that gave them away was the gentle rise and fall of their chests from under the sheets.
Antonio and Benito kept low to the ground, utilizing their vampire abilities to move quickly and silently towards the bed, before finally crouching on the floor next to the sleeping couple.  Antonio cupped the back of Benito's neck, pulling him in closer so that he could whisper to him.
      "I'll take the Signore, you take the Signora," he breathed into Benito's ear, and then swiftly slithered up onto the bed so that he was on top of the frail old man. 
      Benito followed, pinning Signora Moretti down in a way that would not wake her; but due to his extra strength, would keep her from fighting back if she did happen to wake in the process.  As he gripped her fragile wrists, Benito could feel the gentle pulse of her veins beating beneath her skin.  The sound of her drumming heart was quieted in sleep, but was no less alluring.  Benito's fangs almost tingled in his gums, ready to drain.  He then descended upon her neck, briskly piercing the flesh there with his razor-sharp canines.  The blood began flowing instantly.  With the lack of light in the room, it appeared as thick and as black as tar.
      Feeding for Benito had always been an ethereal experience.  The thrill was never lost, no matter how much he wished he could bury the lust and the pleasure of it all.  He felt every cell in his body lighting up and expanding in a process that he could only compare to rebirth.  His usually cold, dead skin was warming and flushing as he drained more of the old woman's life-force.  He hated how much he loved this.  He hated how much he needed this.
As soon as Benito felt the Signora's heart stop, he pulled away from her corpse. Dead blood would incapacitate him. He had learned that the hard way when he was still just a fledgling, hundreds of years prior.
He found that Antonio had already finished, and was sitting at the edge of the bed patiently; watching Benito in the dark. He shuffled across the bed so that he was sitting next to the dark-haired vampire.
"Do you remember the plan?" Antonio asked, his voice at regular volume.
"Of course," Benito answered brusquely. "Hide the bodies, call the polizia, steal the inheritance."
      Just then, their conversation was interrupted by a shrill cry.  It rang throughout the mansion, the source of the noise coming from a room across the hall.  It was the sound of a baby's cries. 
      That meant there was another generation of Morettis in this house.
      Benito and Antonio raced out of the bedroom and into the baby's room.  Antonio leaned over the crib, picking up the baby and cradling it in his arms.  He looked down at it in distaste as it continued to scream. 
      "We gotta shut it up," Antonio urged between grit teeth.  "I gotta-"
      Antonio was again interrupted.  There was a shuffling sound coming from the end of the hallway.  The parents were awake.  Antonio's pupils flitted around wildly, trying to think of a plan.  He hastily handed the baby to Benito.  He then dashed to the door, shutting it as quietly as he could, then standing against it with his ear to the wood. 
      "You've gotta kill it, Benito," he whispered in a desperate tone.  "Otherwise the parents will come in here and we'll be screwed."
The palpitation of the baby's heart was so fast it almost sounded like one continuous beat. It continued to screech and cry even as Benito tried to calm it in every way possible without hurting it.
"Fretta!" Antonio ordered.
      Without pausing to think, Benito sunk his teeth into the baby's soft flesh.  Its cries ceased almost immediately.  The tiny child was easy to drain, so when Benito had finished, it left him feeling dissatisfied.  The footsteps in the hallway faded away, and soon there was nothing left but the thick silence in the air.  Benito placed the baby's corpse back in its crib and sunk to the ground.  His body heaved as it tried to produce tears, but all that came out of Benito's body were choked, sputtering sobs.
      Antonio abandoned his post by the door and made his way to Benito, crouching down next to him. He wrapped a comforting arm around his smaller friend, pulling him in close.
"Va bene, va bene..." Antonio consoled in a hushed, gentle voice as he stroked Benito's back.
Benito was beginning to calm down, but he felt no less disgusted with himself. He had never had to kill a child before. He and Antionio killed to survive. That wasn't an act of survival. It was an act of desperation. Benito did not reply to his friend. His gaze remained fixed on the blood-stained marble floor.
"Hey," Antonio's voice broke the silence once again. "Remember that time a few years back when you found that uccellino that had fallen out of its nest?" He shifted his position, resting his palms flat on the floor behind him and letting his arms hold up his weight. His gaze was directed up towards the ceiling, as if trying to visualize the story he was telling. He continued, "You hid it from me for a while, 'cause you wanted to seem like some big tough maschio who didn't care about baby birds. But I found you feeding it worms one day. You were so embarrassed. But it only made me admire you more." Antonio chuckled and paused, hoping for some sort of reaction, but was only met with silence. "You're a good person, Benito," he added finally. "Don't you ever doubt it. We do what we gotta do. But it doesn't change who you are."
      "We've gotta leave," Benito finally spoke, his voice hoarse. 
      Antonio hauled himself up to his feet, extending a hand down to Benito.  He grabbed Antonio's hand and pulled himself up off the ground. 
      "Yeah, let's leave the mansion," Antonio responded in agreement, making his way out into the hallway.  Benito followed.  "This plan was never gonna work anyways."
      "No," Benito objected.  "I mean, we gotta leave Italy.  For good.  It's too dangerous to stay here considering what just happened."
      They swiftly made their way through the mansion and were soon outside once again.  The early tendrils of the morning sun were just beginning to seep into the horizon.  They would have to get to shelter before the sunlight overpowered the sky. 
      "Where should we go?" Antonio suddenly asked as they began making their way to shelter. 
        "America."