Sired by a Bastard

Chapter 01

My blood was on fire. Every single bump, curve, and line of my body burned like the sun on steroids. Sweat crept down my chin, neck, and between my breasts to pool at a spot already stained maroon from someone else's old blood. That should have bothered me but the pain was just so great, I just didn't care. All of my skin itched like a thousand ants descended on me all at once, gnawing their little teeth down to my sore muscle. My bones ache to the last toe and digit. On top of that, the warring voices from a mob somewhere up above me was banging against my skull like two sledgehammers pounding against one another.

The only relief I found was the cold concrete floor that was dirty with sick, some other unidentifiable substances, and sludge that seemed to cling to the corners of my cell. It acted as a small cool balm to the side of my face despite that it was corrosive sticky ground that smelled. I was in hell.

What was happening to me?

I yowled through the next onslaught of unimaginable pain; wishing death would just get it over with. The sharp pain stretching across my shoulders felt like I was being folded in half, shoulder to shoulder.

"What the hell is this? You trying push damaged goods on us Kreature?" said some man too blurry to see him clearly through my foggy vision. His frame though was bulky enough to thankfully block out the glare of the tungsten lighting above. Their low electrical hum did nothing to alleviate the pain in my head.

"Take care how you assess the pedigree. I do believe your eyes are clearly not working properly. Or perhaps you just got ill bred senses to detect such valuable commodity." I knew that voice, well barely. Though 'man' was a loose label I'd used for him. He was one of two attackers that jumped me a block from my dorm at The University of Tennessee, Knoxville, right in front of a roaring fraternity house no less. He was the boney thin assailant with straggly dirty blond hair. And when I say dirty blonde, I wasn't referring to the color. It was in fact greasy and looked like it hadn't been washed in months.

Surprisingly, the man did have enough upper body strength hold me down as his friend savagely attacked me. My screams and pleading did nothing to persuade him to stop or ease up on my suffering.

Both of them covered my body with their bite marks. Their fingers gouged into my skin until blood surfaced from their nails cutting small half moons. I choked on my own tears and cried as they just smiled at their handiwork. Both of their eyes were full with unfettered excitement.

It seemed forever before they finally relented. I was left in a shallow puddle of dirty runoff water, too stiff and injured to move. I was too weak to fight as they dragged me off to a large Sprinter van and threw me into the back where I was hidden from the outside by tinted black windows.

Now I was somewhere deep underground. I knew this because I felt the cold breeze as we descended further down a long corridor to steps that kept going down, winding through stairways and narrow passages. Now I was being block in a cage by a burly man who could probably bench press a tank.

My original kidnapper didn't move however, not seemingly intimidated by the seven foot something bull, who looked like he ate railway spikes for breakfast and scared off Girl Scouts for fun. He just stood his ground and lifted his pointy chin. "That there is not damaged goods. She's just bottoming out because she's in the throes of bloodlust. It's Grifton's blood that flows through those veins, so show some respect." Kreature arrogantly snapped.

The big man seemed to tense. "Griffin's blood you say?" The man thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "Why would an old pure blood ancient want to put one of his own down into the Pits?"

"His reasons are his own. I suspect his patience ran out and her blatant disobedience of control is what governs his decisions. Time to put down the mistake." My kidnapper actually sounded like the snake he was