Bloodsick

Prologue: What happened in Massachusetts?

  Exactly 199 years ago, in the early 1800’s, a writer by the name John Polidori, wrote a short story about a make believe monster. A creature of the night that many referred to as Vampire(s). Even though it wasn’t that big of a hit during that time, the stories were passed down, generation through generation. Tons of novelist’s and sci-fi writers wrote about them. The rumors spread and adjustments were made. Throught time, characters even emerged from the tale of the Vampire. Nosfaratu; the first film about a Vampire was made in 1998. It was the Hit of that era. Soon after followed the tale of Count Dracula, and so many more after that. 
  
  Till this day, movies and TV shows are still being produced about the fanged beasts of the night. Everything from Dorian grey, to the Twilight saga… Everyone knows what a Vampire is. But I am not here to describe to you the Vampires you think you know, I’m here to tell you the true story behind it. No sugar coating, no stereotypes. Just the truth. However dark it may be. And believe me, it will be… dark. Essentially, I’ll let you be the judge of that, but to tell you the story, I must start from beginning. Which was a very long time ago.

  325 years ago, it was May of 1693. In a secluded area we now know as Massachusetts, a string of murders occurred. Not just murders, but executions. We know this story. These were the Salem witch trials.

  Deep inside a vastly wooded area, there was a secluded village named Salem, in which the civilians there believed they lived amongst Witches; she devils sent straight from hell to torment the good and innocent. But this starts with one woman in particular. Her name was Opal. She had moved to Salem with her seven year old daughter, Lamia. In search of a new start. Unfortunately that was the opposite of what she got. Salem was at war. Everyone there was on edge and on some sort of hunt. The residents hung dozens of innocent women every day, innocent civilians, because they thought they were killing witches, and or, The Witch. But they weren't. Opal, a well known and well liked women, had been living in the shadows the entire time. She made them think what she wanted them to think, made them see what she wanted them to see. And she watched as they killed their own people. Opal hadn't always been that way, she hadn’t always been so cruel, so evil. Salem made her that way, the people there made her that way. 

  When she'd first had moved to the town, she was happy to be there. Happy with her daughter. She was only looking for safe passage through the town. She'd never even planned to stay for long. However, as the town grew more and more paranoid, Opal decided she needed to stay as hidden as possible to keep her secret concealed, just until she could get away. So one Sunday evening Opla decided to attend church with the rest of the Salem residents. She was genuinely afraid of what would happen if she didn't, what they would say. So she dressed in her finest clothes, and her daughter as well. She put on a smile and left her home. When they got there on tims they entered quietly and were welcomed with open arms. The room however, held a hostile ora. Something heavy was in the air. Opal suddenly questioned herself. Was this the right decision?  She couldn't kick the feeling in her gut, was this a church service, or a trial?  Getting up and leaving would look bad, too obvious.  She and her daughter would have to stick it through. 

  Everything started out fine, when the service started, everyone was dead quiet except for the man speaking. Ranting. Until a few moments later, as the religious ramblings became louder and more vicious, Opals daughter began to cry. She cried and cried through out the whole service. Opal tried her best to contain the child's fit. But nothing worked. The more the preacher preached, the more she cried. Opal reached in her pursw and retrieved a wooden horse, about the size of her fist, it was the child's favorite toy, hand carved by Opal heself.
She quietly spoke to the child as best she could, waving the wooden horse back and forth trying to contain the fit. This wasn't good. This looked bad. 
  Meanwhile, everyone gawked, and stared at them. Whispers fluttered through out the church and the formally silent audience was now a frenzy of intense whispers. Opal rocked the whining child, she didn't know what had made her cry, maybe the intensity of the service had scared her. Nevertheless, she needed to try and blend in until she could leave. She smiled politely at the people who stared and gawked. She prayed that they wouldn't assume anything crazy about the toddlers outburst. When her and her daughter got outside however, all the Salem residents were crowed around waiting on her. Looks of  hate and detest on there faces. She pushed through the crowd holding the child’s hand. She knew there was no getting through to them. She knew that there was no explanation fit enough to curve their suspicions. So she said nothing and she hurried to get back to her home.