“Fuck sake!”
Having disabled the smoke alarm long ago, knowing full well that I would be setting it off constantly, I open the small window above the sink to let some of the smoke out, while also turning on the exhaust fan. Having been too consumed in my book to keep a decent eye on my dinner I stand, looking down at what remains of a tuna and rice, contemplating how I will recover the pan that is now covered in blackened rice.
“Screw it” I huff under my breath before collecting the whole thing and throwing it in the bin. Probably not the best idea I’ve ever had, as the plastic of the bin liner is now melting to the pan, but I can always toss the fucking bin to if need be.
I stand, dark thoughts swirling my mind when the reality of the situation hits me. I burst out laughing at my dark mood, it’s only a pan, I think to myself. With that thought in mind, I race to the phone, ready to order takeout instead as my reward for a valiant effort at making dinner and not losing my mind over the pan. Phone in hand, I move to the fridge, ready to choose between the magnets, all displaying different deals for different restaurants, when I hear a knock on the door.
My instinct kicks in, and, taking a deep breath, I can feel the presence of the undead on the other side of the door. Vampires. Sensational. That’s one way to ruin my night.
I send a quick text to my dad, letting him know I’ve got company before I feel for the gun that’s sitting in the small of my back, tucked into my jeans. I leave it where it is for now, before moving towards the front door, making no effort to hide my footsteps. I swing the door open to find not only a male vampire, with a blue mohawk and a major piercing fetish but my friend Tina, the tall vamp's hand wrapped around the back of her neck.
“Evening,” I say nonchalantly, noticing that the male vampire isn’t an old one, 5 years’ tops, going by the very faint traces of humanity I can still sense in him.
“Invite me in, Soulassasin or I will break her neck before your eyes,” the vamp says while tightening his hold on Tina enough to make her yelp in pain.
Yep, a younger vamp. If he had done his research before knocking on my door, he would’ve known that I could sense vampires, including the fact that Tina was no longer human, having been turned this very night. Clever, clever. A trick to make me think I could save her. Idiots.
Without a second thought, I whip my hand behind my back and pull the gun on the vampire, leveling the barrel at his chest. Laughing he moves closer, just in front of the barrier that is my doorway, since he couldn’t cross it without an invitation.
“Not much of a hunter are you, guns can’t kill my kind” he jokes, flashing his fangs as if I will join in the laughter with him.
I smile, and in an equally amused tone reply, “guns can’t, but wooden bullets can.”
Bang! All it takes is one bullet and the vampire disintegrates into ash and dust. The shock is evident on Tina’s face when I reach out my door, and with a quick “I invite you in”, pull her pass the threshold and slam the door shut.
While the demon, that is now inhabiting my friend looks around confused, I run straight for my bedroom, wherein lies a chest full of weapons. Quickly searching through the contents of the chest, finding holy water, stakes, wooden and silver bullets, swords and even an old bow and arrows set from my youth. I find the hidden compartment concealing an old metal carved box with the symbol of the cross on top and other runic symbols, before sprinting back out to the lounge area.
Before the demon can gather itself, I toss a bottle of holy water on her, and as she screams in pain, I throw the bottle aside and pin her to the ground, using my legs to lock her arms under me. She, of course, begins to struggle feebly, weakened by the holy water, but I know it won’t last long, so I quickly open the carved box to reveal the old silver cross, encrusted with all manner of crystals and stones. Palming this in my hand, I begin to recite a spell, once taught to me by my grandmother as I push the cross smack in the middle of my friend’s chest, holding it in place with both my hands.
As her skin begins to burn, her ear-piercing shrieks of pain were surely loud enough to wake the dead. Well, at least my neighbor’s, so I knew I had to work fast, picking up the speed in which I recite the only words that could save my friend from losing her soul.
“Oh, heavenly father, hallowed be thy name, return this lost soul, so that she may be reborn a new warrior to fight the coming darkness. Cast out thy enemy and set your child free. Amen”.
The demon is now still beneath me, as I finish the spell with a final prayer to the Maker.
The cross glows in my hand, and I can see the same light shine through my friend’s eyes as her soul is returned to her through the cross pressed into her chest. Within moments the light fades, leaving Tina unconscious beneath me. Exhausted, I tumble off to lie down next to her on the now wet carpet, knowing that her transformation into a Soulassasin would take time. I had been through it myself over 50 years ago.
Unlike Tina, becoming a Soulassassin was a rite of passage in my family, a tradition that began centuries before by some distant relatives of mine in the Dark Ages. The histories kept and told by my grandmother, and my great grandmother before her tell of a plague, The Black Death it was called, that ravaged Europe in the 1300s. What very few people know, was that it wasn’t a plague carried by rats that wiped out one-third of Europe’s population, but a vicious army of young vampires, controlled by a lunatic leader named Camilla.
The young vampires, having not mastered their bloodlust yet, had decimated entire villages in their pursuit of blood, until my family had intervened. Realizing that as human hunters we stood no chance against an undead army, my great, great, great (you get the idea) grandfather Aiken Livingstone created the spell, with the help of a powerful sorceress, to re-ensoul vampires. Calling on the Maker and denouncing Lilith, the queen and creator of the vampire race, Aiken could bind the spell to silver crosses, with the condition of the spell being that only a newly turned vampire, if they hadn’t taken an innocent life, could be re-ensouled and turned into a living breathing vampire hunter hybrid.
Once a kill was made, however, and blood is taken from an innocent, the vampire would lose their life and their soul to hell forever. Soon, any living family member of age was turned into a vampire then re-ensouled, creating the first generation of Soulassassin’s that finally hunted down and ended Camilla, leaving her army mostly dead and scattered to the winds. Centuries later, the males and females of my bloodline carried on the tradition, training as warriors from 7 years of age, and being turned at the age of 21.
The night I was turned…
Don't you just hate cliffhangers?! Sorry! you'll just have to check out my next book post on Friday :)
