He was called Ripper for a reason.
It was New Orleans in the 1960's. Sex, music, and bad fashion choices.
The Ripper has a name. It's Stefan.
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"Stefan!" called the flapper.
Stefan turned around.
"Yes, my darling?" he purred, and laid a hand on her cheek.
"Can you not stay later?" she pouted.
He laughed.
"Come with me."
She giggled. "With pleasure..."
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Stefan moaned as he sucked the last drop of blood through her body."Delicious...Stephanie."
He had gotten her name out of her at least.
He picked up a pencil off of his desk and wrote Stephanie on a piece of paper on his wall. Her name, along with many others, was written on that piece of paper. It helped him deal with his guilt.
He shook his head angrily.
"Vampires should not have guilt." he muttered.
"You're absolutely right." a voice said behind him. Luckily he recognized that voice, or he would be dead by now.
It was Thomas.
"Brother. Don't you ever learn?" Thomas said.
Stefan turned and glared at him.
"And who said it was any of your business?"
Thomas smirked.
"Everything's my business, Stefan."
Thomas glanced down at the flapper.
"So who did you kill this time?"
"Her name was Stephanie."
Thomas nodded approvingly.
"Nice work. But what do you do with the body?"
"Bury it. I have a spot."
"May I have a look?" Thomas asked curiously.
Stefan sighed.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Probably not." Thomas grinned.
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Stefan drove, with the body in the back. He knew if he got pulled over he would just use compulsion.
"So where exactly are we going?" Thomas said, drumming his fingers on the dash.
"Just a little farther." Stefan muttered.
He was not happy to have Thomas here. You see, Stefan and Thomas never really got along. They were brothers, but Thomas had killed Stefan. But that's a story for a different time.
Stefan finally pulled into the dirt road that led into the forest.
He drove down the winding roads until he reached a dead end. He parked the car and turned the ignition off.
"We walk from here."
Stefan opened the back door, grabbed the body, and slung it over his shoulder.
"Why even bury the bodies?" Thomas asked.
"Like I said earlier. Guilt."
Thomas nodded, and looked downward.
"I thought vampires weren't supposed to feel guilty. Feeling sad?" Stefan muttered.
"Oh, it's not me you need to worry about." he grinned. "It's them."
Thomas pointed to Stefans "graveyard".
Rising from the grounds were the bodies of the people he had killed.
And they were coming straight for him.