The Child of Darkness

Vampires.
The world is full of them. Don’t let people tell you otherwise...how would they know anyway? Vampires are all about secrecy...disguise...night. I should know. I’m one of THEM. Well...not a full-blooded vampire. Because of my will to stay human I am now a half-blood. I was kidnapped from my hometown...and brought to the bloodsucker’s lair. After he forced me to drink some of his own awful blood (I still can’t get the taste out of my mouth!), I escaped and took to the streets. Only one problem. I have no idea how to get home…and I’m sure my vampire friend will be in no mood to have mercy when he finds his half-blood fugitive.
This is my story...

. . .

The Child of Darkness

Part One
In The Beginning
. . .

“You’d better catch it this time, Kelsey,” my best friend, Brittany Dofka (aka: Britt), laughed gleefully as she threw a bright red frisbee (the really cheap plastic kind) across her lush green lawn, right at my crooked smile.
“ Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, jumping up and making a perfect save.
I was actually pretty good at Frisbee, but the day was so hot and muggy that all my energy seemed to of zapped right out of me.
Britt and I were two of a kind...the sort of perfect friendship that you could never imagine ending. No one could ever think of Brittany Dofka and Kelsey Cox without in sight of each other longer than a day. Ok, so we’ve had our fair share of bumps...but I mean, that’s, like, nearly inevitable.
We also looked similar...both with long blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes (I had a light splash of freckles across the bridge of my nose and under my eyes, and Britt didn’t). Britt was also sturdier, while I was more lean and graceful. The only major difference between us is our age. I was 14 and going into my first year of high school, while Britt was 11 and going into her first year of middle school (even though she was tall for her age...nearly as tall as I was and I was around 5’4”).
The age difference didn’t bother me nearly as much as it bothered her. She had some half-crazed idea that I was going to go to high school and suddenly forget about her or something like that. I wasn’t, of course, but even when I told her that she still freaked. Why would I break up my perfect friendship with someone I’ve known since I was in fourth grade?
“Hey Kels...do ya think your mom’s home?” Britt called as I sailed a nice pass over her head,” see if she’ll let you stay over.”
“K...want a Mt. Dew while I’m inside,” I asked, turning to head to her side door (they never use their front door for some reason).
“Sure,” came her muffled reply as she dug through the bushes for our missing frisbee.
I walked up her small, concrete porch and headed inside. Zoey, Britt’s puppy, came flying head over heels into their miniature kitchen, bouncing to a complete stop by running into my ankles. The black fur ball raced insanely around my legs, begging to be given some of my undivided attention. Sighing, I bent over to pet her and immediately got a mouthful of tongue.
I grimaced, and stood...picking up their black, cordless phone in the process. I dialed my home phone numbered, and got the answering machine. Someone (probably my mom) was on-line at the moment. I did leave her a message, though, saying I was still at Britt’s and that I wanted to know if I could spend the night (I was most likely allowed, but it was better to ask than to just assume).
The Tv was still on (we had turned it on downstairs in the living room after her dad had left for work at 6 am...meaning we came downstairs to watch TV at 6:30 am (Britt had this habit of waking up in the extremely early hours of the morning) so I went in to change the channel a few times before switching it off (we watch Jerry Springer, Maury, and Ricky Lake so we have to change the channel a few times so her dad and grandparents (who live next-door to her) can’t see what we’d been watching).
Our cereal bowls where still sitting on the low coffee table next to the couch (Britt’s empty, mine still full of milk), so I took a few seconds to gather them up and put them in the sink. Britt was yelling for me to hurry up, so I opened the fridge, grabbed a Mt. Dew and a Dr. Pepper, and went back outside.
The rest of the day was spent walking barefoot down alleyways; us having nothing better to do. We stopped at our other friend, Samantha Marcellus (aka: Sami or Sam), but she wasn’t home...being at her friend, Michelle’s house.
Sami had been my first BFF when I moved to this part of Wheeling, WV (actually Chelsey Monto had been my first friend, but that’s a different story) but we sorta drifted apart when she went to my middle school (Sami’s only one year younger than me) because she hung out with really big snob’s and begun to treat Britt like dirt. We still talk (Britt and her don’t even speak unless I’m the one who comes over) but we’re not nearly as close as we used to have been.
As dusk began to fall, we retreated back to Britt’s house. There was a message on her answering machine from my mom.

Answering Machine: (Beep) Kels...I have to work tonight and Wiener is still on drill weekend, so I need you to be here to watch Kourtney, K...maybe another night...Luv you. (Click)

“Awww,” Britt whined, glaring at the answering machine,” Why can’t your sister just watch herself.”
“She’s afraid to be by herself and anyways, my mom wants me to watch her,” I explained, looking for my lost (I actually prefer to say temporarily misplaced (that way it doesn’t sound as if I’ve lost anything forever) shoes.
“Soooo,” Britt said anxiously, nearly breathing down my back,” See if your mom will let you spend the night if Kourtney sleeps over.”
I looked up at her with one eyebrow raised,
“Fine,” I sighed walking back over to the phone (only stumbling slightly when I tripped on...whatdoyaknow...my shoes).
I dialed my number again but didn’t get an answer.
“Guess my mom’s already at work,” I said, picking up my shoes (I didn’t feel like wearing them so I simply put them in the book bag I was carrying).
Britt sighed, “Call me as soon as you get home, K.”
“K”, I agreed, walking out the door. It was really dark by now and a light sprinkle of rain was falling from the open skies, ”If I don’t call, you’ll know that I had been eaten by IT in the sewers!”
We always joke about being eaten by Stephen King’s horror movie monster IT, the clown-shaped child terrorizer.
Britt laughed, and then shut the door.
My hair was already plastered to my forehead and neck from the rain, so I trudged swiftly down Eureka Ave. and turned right on Valley View Ave. The streetlights gave off an eerie glow, throwing dark shadows across the street. I picked up my pace. I normally felt safe and comforted in the night, but tonight was different. I could FEEL something staring at me…hidden just beyond my range of vision. The road was empty except for the stray cats that ruled the streets and one large owl that hooted softly in a nearby tree...but still. I quickened my stride...not exactly on running terms yet but darn well close. A tree branch creaked in the cold wind, causing me to go on an all-out sprint. I stopped suddenly, scolding my pounding heart and over-active imagination. I was just spooking myself...that’s all.
I had just resumed walking when all the streetlights flickered once, twice, then died. My heart stopped dead still and I couldn’t draw in a breath. Of course it was probably only the electrician’s who were working on the telephone wires on the street next to me...but all the same, I freaked. I couldn’t walk in pitch darkness (the rain clouds had covered all the stars and the moon) but when I heard steady footsteps clunking on the ground in my direction, I sure as heck tried.
My bare feet made hardly any noise as I stumbled on the road, my arms held blindly in front of me for fear of running into something. My heart was clanging like a fire bell, so loud I thought for sure whoever was behind me could here it. I turned slightly to the left and went sprawling over the curb, my head cracking against the sidewalk. My temples throbbed horribly as I struggled to sit up...and except for my pounding heart I couldn’t hear anything else. Wait a moment! I couldn’t hear anything else! And that meant that whoever was behind me had stopped walking! And that whoever (whatever) could be inches from me and I wouldn’t be able to see them (it)! I tilted my head sideways, desperate for any noise that might indicate where that person (thing, some horror that would rip me to shreds!!) was.
Then a small, snuffling sound (like the sound a dog makes when it’s sniffing the ground…although I was sure this wasn’t some cutso poodle named FiFi!) came from directly in front of me. I stiffened in horror at the sound.
“Hel-llo,” I stuttered in a raspy, choked voice,” please don’t hurt me, whatever you are...just go away...”
And then the thing (for now I was sure it wasn’t any person) began to chuckle. It was frightening in it’s own way. It was like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard...or the click of a gun that’s pointed at your head...or the sound of a child screaming in it’s room, terrified and absolutely sure that something is under their bed and it will suck them under as soon as they step one pajama foot on the floor.
And then I finally realized that I was the one screaming...screaming myself to the snapping point of my vocal cords...and that I was flying down the street, leaving everything I ran by to a burnt crisp. My legs (in my own panic-struck mind, I couldn’t think or breath...all I could do was run, and run fast) became tangled together and flew out from under me. I was fainting...fainting before I would even strike the ground...and the last thing I remember was a hand reaching out to catch me...one that was as cold as death...one that had claws for fingernails...

. . .

My head swam...my eyes throbbed in their sockets...I wanted to vomit but was afraid to. A warm rug caressed my aching body...and the soft pale light that seemed to come from a fire penetrated my eyelids and made my head-ache sear. I blinked stupidly and sat up. My head felt like it would split wide open. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes but I fiercely brushed them away.
Only one thought crossed my mind: Where was I?
I looked around slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was in some sort of cave...one with a high ceiling covered in jagged stalactites (or stalagmites...I couldn’t remember which was which). The ground was smooth with very little furniture...only the rug (made of white rabbit skins) I laid on, a picture of a very demonic looking, young man in his late twenties framed in what looked like gold, and a red couch covered in white satin. The walls were also home to some small, lit torches, from which the light came.
Finally I stood, seeing a small opening in the cave where I could leave this room. For some reason, as I stood, my stomach knotted into painful coils...sending me to my knees. I gasped in pain and kneeled where I was, clutching my stomach, until most of the pain had receded.
Gently, I slowly straightened until I was standing once again. My stomach churned angrily in protest but I at least could move now (if I hadn’t been able to stand I would have most definitely crawled).
I began my steady decent of the cave room, heading to the opening. Before stepping from the room, though, I grabbed one of the torches...just in case.
The caves I walked through after that room weren’t furnished or lit (good thing I had grabbed a torch...(Kelsey: 1...Creepy Kidnapper Horror: 0) and I kept expecting my kidnapper to appear out of nowhere, scaring all the life out of me in the process.
As I walked, trying to find my way out, I thought of reasons why someone would want to kidnap me.
1.Because they're actually aliens and need a human child
2.Because they're a lunatic and have no real reason
3.I’m actually an escaped convict and the police have been following me for years, so my partner in crime rescued me from the city so that we could hide out in a cave for 50 years or so.
Since number 1 and number 3 seemed very unlikely (like I said, I have a very hyperactive imagination), and that they wouldn’t have kidnapped me for ransom since I wasn’t exactly the richest in the world, I fell back on reason 2. The kidnapper was just some mad lunatic who saw me on the street and thought, what the heck, and kidnapped me with no real reason.
But my skin broke out in a cold sweat as I remembered that horrible chuckle, the one that sent me fleeing for my life. No human could sound so cold...and utterly heartless.
A flutter of movement caught the corner of my eye and I turned sharply, expecting the worse. Instead, a harmless little bat fluttered by...I nearly laughed with relief. as I turned, spinning on one leg, when the ground seemed to open up beneath me.
My foot hovered in total darkness, my body swaying like a tiny tree caught in a tornado, before I slipped down into the hole.
The hole seemed to be a sort of slide...but it wasn’t any fun. The walls of the stone slide were slippery...I couldn’t stop or at least slow down...and sharp, jagged chunks of rock tore at my skin.
My right foot suddenly struck something rigid, my knee bent it an awkward angle, and I flew up in the air, ricocheting my head off the low ceiling of the slide. I landed on my belly and slid the rest of the way down head first...thankfully luck was with me and none of the chunks of rock tore any new bellybuttons on my stomach...dreading the moment when I would reach the end and probably land on my head.
I was saved the pain, because when the stone slide ended abruptly hurtling me through the air, I landed on another red couch. I flipped off of THAT and landed on the floor in a very un-graceful somersault.
“Bravo,” a cold, soft voice commented as I gingerly picked myself off the ground,” very nice performance.”
I whipped around to face the person. It was not the same person from the picture, but it looked really close, like they could be father and son.
The man before me looked of the same age as the picture person, though. He was tall; nearly towering above me, with hair so blonde it could have been white. His eyes were fire red; and I kept thinking he should have had smoke pouring out of his ears. His face took on the appearance of chiseled stone, his skin pale and smooth.
The man (who wasn’t a man...nuh-huh...far too evil and creepy looking...with those fire eyes) was very well dressed in a black suit with a dark blue cape trailing behind him.
“I had imagined,” the man continued softly, as though merely discussing the weather over tea,” that you would still be out cold.”
I stood, shivering, not knowing what to do or where to run. To waste time I looked down at his hands, and saw 10 sharp claws.
“You must be hungry,” the man inquired lightly, still in the dreamy matter of tea time,” would you wish to eat?”
My mind had no thoughts whatsoever on eating, but my stomach betrayed me by grumbling loudly.
The man smiled, taking that as a yes, before turning to leave the cave. I stayed where I was, not knowing if I was supposed to have followed him or not, when he returned with a wine glass full of a dark red liquid.
“This should hold you for now,” the man smiled honey-slow, a smile that screamed secrets, Secrets, SECRETS!
I warily took the glass, knowing full well that there may be poison in it. I raised it to my nose, never removing my eyes from the man, and smelled in deeply. The smell was very salty like, and though it smelled familiar I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I lifted the glass to my lips, and still staring at the man, I sipped the liquid in a deep gulp. The drink was thick and salty, running down my throat like melted butter. I gagged and sputtered, dropping the half-full wine glass on the rocky floor, where it shattered in thousands of sparkling crystals...all whom were tainted with red.
“Blood,” I gasped trying to rid of the horrible taste in my mouth...the taste that still coated my tongue and throat,” that was blood!”
“Of course,” the man replied indifferently,” actually to be more precise that was MY blood...and it seems you will need another half-cup of it, since you spilled the rest of your delicious drink.”
I coughed in anguish, the man’s blood on my lips.
“Disgusting,” I cried out,” why would you want me to drink your blood!?”
“Why else,” the man shrugged, then smiled widely showing a pair of pointed fangs,” to make you like me.”
I stopped my struggling as all my insides froze in complete emptiness…deeply buried survival skills handed down from each generation clanging like fire bells. Everything was starting to get fuzzy. My knees wobbled unsteadily before I sunk to the cave floor, banging my shins and scraping my bare feet. I had one fleeting thought before I lost consciousness again, and that was,’ I wonder where my book bag is?’
Then I fell to the floor at the man’s (no, not a man...a vampire) overly polished shoes…unseeing and unknowing.

. . .

I awoke in a panicked rush, sitting up so fast I nearly toppled back off the red couch I was on. My gaze was immediately drawn to another blood-red drink in a new wine glass, except it was only half-full. I was so not going to drink that!
I sniffed the air and suddenly I was hit with a hundred different scents...each one different. I could smell bats, lizards, frogs, the blood sitting in the glass, dust, and the vampire himself.
How could I smell all those things and know what each scent came from? I was utterly confused.
I stood, unknown strength flowing through my veins, and dust rose with me. My nose tingled and I sneezed...feeling something sharp split open the inside of my bottom lip.
Raising my hand (I realized with a sick sense of dismay that I no longer had fingernails...they were long, deadly-sharp pointed claws) to my mouth, I wiped up a palm full of cherry-red blood. How did that happen? I rushed out of the cave, surprised that it wasn’t dark anymore...just slightly dim...and nearly stumbled in a small puddle on the cave floor.
I glanced down, more annoyed than anything else, and had to put a hand to my mouth to stop my piercing scream. My eyes were glowing bright yellow, looking like a pair of flashlights. Shivering from a mixture of horror and dread, I slowly opened my mouth...revealing my own set of deadly sharp fangs!
“Nooo,” I groaned in terror,” I’m a...I’m...a...a...vampire...”
A quiet sound a few yards from where I stood reached my sensitive ears.
“No,” the vampire murmured softly, coming out of the shadows into my new range of vision,” not a vampire...your only a half-vampire, as you have only drunk half of what is required for your complete transformation.”
“Well forget it,” I snarled, shuddering at the inhuman way my voice growled,” I’m not drinking anymore of your horrible blood...I didn’t want to become a half vampire…let alone one of “your kind”!”
“You are in no position to be making the orders around here,” the vampire said quietly, and I could here a definite edge to his voice now.
“I’d rather die than to become some evil blood-sucking freak,’ I screamed, almost able to feel the hairs on the back of my neck brisling.
Then I turned and ran, pumped my legs as fast as I could, tearing through the cave...dodging sharp, protruding spikes...listening all the while as I heard the vampire gain on me.
I made another sharp turn when a full blast of sunlight struck me in the face. I expected to writher to the floor, perhaps disintegrating into a pile of ash...but other than being especially bright on my eyes, I felt fine. The vampire, on the other hand, hissed angrily and brought up his cloak to his face to shield himself from the warm rays of the sun.
I felt like cheering, but instead continued running...running right out of the cave and into the wild smells and sounds of a forest, feeling the sun warm me on my back.
I slowed to a walk...enjoying the scenery, and the angry cries and hisses of the vampire as I strode farther and farther away...and for the first time since I had been captured, I was happy.

. . .

The walk through the woods was short, and soon I found myself on the edge of a small town...the kind you might find on a postcard. Old cars rumbled quietly on the brick roads and everyone who walked on the sidewalk seemed to be at peace.
I walked into town just as a frightening thought struck me with enough force for me to gasp out, as if in pain. I had no idea where I was! I had been unconscious while the vampire had taken me to his lair, so I had no clue as to where I was or how far I had traveled.
I walked along the sidewalk, a thoughtful expression on my face, passing all the friendly looking people. After awhile I noticed that everyone I had passed so far had given me a not-so-friendly startled, somewhat shocked expression.
Wondering why, I stopped in front of a shop mirror to examine myself.
“On no,” I grumbled in amusement (I have no idea why I was amused...maybe I was losing my mind) and irritation. My right eye was deep blue, as it always had been, but my left eye...it was fire red...like the vampire’s eyes.
I quickly shut my eye, fearing that the people (the normal human people...unlike me!) would spot me for who I really was and start running after me with hammers and stakes.
I dug into my pockets, bringing up a handful of ones, a couple of fives, and one twenty (leftovers from Britt’s (my mom always gave me money when I went to Britt’s...in case her dad took us somewhere).
‘ That should be enough for a pair of sunglasses,’ I thought grimly, tearing holes with my claws in the pockets of my jeans, and I shoved the money back in.
I walked into the first store that I saw sunglasses in (I still had the one eye shut tight). The store was moderately clean and organized...smelling of cleaner and bleached cloth. The shopkeeper smiled warmly at me as I pulled down a few sunglasses to examine. Finally satisfied with a small pair, I handed them to the shopkeeper...who ran up the price. This is where I got my first major shock.
“ That’ll be 5 pounds and 30 pents, ma’am,” the shopkeeper said in a thickly accented voice.
“ Excuse me,” I asked, leaning closer to the man, “how much did you say?”
My heart was thumping madly. There was no way I could be in...
“ Aaahh,” the shopkeeper sighed as if he got this all the time,” you’re an American lass, are you?”
“ Uh...uh yeah...yeah I am,” I stuttered,” why do you ask?”
“ Americans always have so much trouble when it comes to buying things here,” the man said in his accent. (I knew what accent he had, but was refusing to believe it at the moment.
“Where exactly is here,” I asked, knowing I probably sounded like some goofball.
“Why you're in England, sweetheart,” the shopkeeper exclaimed, eyeing me with apprehension now.
My heart stopped. I was in England! I was on a different continent now! And I had no idea how I would get back to America... let alone Wheeling, WV!
“Please sir,” I begged pulling out all of my money,” please sir this should be enough American money to buy those sunglasses,” I laid all my money on the counter,” please will you take it?”
The shopkeeper looked at me, then down at the money, than back up at my pale face, “Alright missy, I’ll take your money...but mind you, I’m only taking it because you look so desperate.”
The shopkeeper took my money and handed me the sunglasses. I quickly put them on and opened my one eye.
As I raced out of the door, I heard the shopkeeper call from behind me.
“Good luck!”
Yeah that was right. I needed all the good luck in the world at the moment. And I hoped God could find it in his heart not to ignore me just because I was a half-vampire. Just because I was now a child of darkness.
. . .