Chapter 1
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| Suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder, and she turned to look in the face of a teenage girl, dressed in black, carrying a wooden stake in one hand. "Look what's the idea-" she began, but the girl covered her mouth. "I don't have time to tell you details," the girl hissed into Anita's ear. "Just move the other way. You're in danger." | |
| Did this girl have some sort of Spidey-sense? Anita did as the girl asked and stepped a few cautious steps to the left. She felt something soft and squishy under her foot. Did she dare look down? What could it be? Hopefully it wasn't another marshmallow chicken baby--you know the ones that you can only get during Easter. Anita seemed to be stepping on those a lot lately. After a few moments of deliberation, during which the cute "goth" girl crept forward, mumbling the words to "Lucretia My Reflection" by the Sisters of Mercy, Anita did look down. | |
| ...and was shocked, appalled, and nauseated to discover she'd been stepping on, and crushing to gory little pulps, dozens of tiny men and women! Her stomach heaved; she turned away from the girl into the shadow of a brownstone to download the contents of her stomach onto the sidewalk; Walter the vampire opened his cape and his mouth simultaneously, raised his arms and baring his fangs in the universal vampire semaphore translated as "I've come — to suck — you blaaaaaaahd!" and fell upon the helpless maiden, too shaken with nausea to defend herself. He bent towards her smooth, tan jugular, sniffing and salivating — it was been so long, so very, very long since he'd had a taste of warm, pulsing blood — he bent closer, hissing and extending his fangs — and then the sharp wooden stake came through his ribcage from the back and skewered his heart in a perfect bullseye. | |
| Walter went into convulsions. His bony, claw like hands with their long twisted nails, dug into Anita, and then relaxed again. He shook and then fell screaming to the ground. Anita fell with him, landing hard on the scarred ashphalt. Shocked, she lay paralysed, curled into the fetal position, feeling the warm, wet blood of the vampire surge over her. The world went blurry, the earth began to reel. Suddenly from out of the mists a hand appeared, grotesque and curled, blackened nails and bloodied palms. The hand reached for Anita. Anita cowered, but a sharp voice pulled her from her reverie. "You were lucky, he almost got yah." The goth girl helped Anita to her feet and began doing a strange ritualistic dance around Walter's corpse. "Damn lucky," Anita murmered, as she observed the vampire turning to ash, and the goth girls frenzied dance intesifying. This city was too strange. Too dangerous to be roaming around at night without a protector. Her thoughts turned to Roger. He had been a protector. Handsome, confident and strong, she remembered walking this same street with him, less than a month ago. Why did he have to leave on that bloody safari? Suddenly, a desperate urge to see him grabbed her. There had to be a way. Mabye if they just saw eachother again, things would fix themselves. That had happened in Paris when they met, it could happen now too. She remembered the feeling of his hands on her body, the taste of his lips. "Roger," she moaned helplessly, "I need you." Drawing from a deep inner strength, which most people don't know they have until it is needed, Anita forced herself the limp home, leaving the goth girl and the deepening night behind her. With the resolve of one who knows that what she is doing is right, Anita dialled an airline company and made arrangements to fly to Africa the following day... | |
| She awoke suddenly and realized it was all a dream. What could this really mean? A Vampire?? Blood?? And then the protector. Anita had always been a God fearing women and never thought she would have such frightening dreams that would seem evil. Deep inside she knew who her protector was. And HE died for her and for you too!!! Our Savior - Jesus! |
4