The Spread of Blood (A Story of the Undead) One-Shot

A single raven hovered in the sky, its black wings cutting through the air. Blood had been spilled this night. Black birds were an obvious sign of death, but even more obvious were the bloody bodies that now lay forever limp.
The last dangerous roar was echoed throughout the trees and then- silence. The crimson color was everywhere. You could not look anywhere to escape the red.
Darkness enclosed around them. A harsh breeze whirled through the forest, rustling branches and leaves on the dirt ground, but they could not feel it. Their skin was already stone-cold.
Their fangs disappeared until they were that of teeth, while at the same time their claws morphed back until they were again fingernails. Their eyes became once again pitch black.
Like a drug, they were addicted to blood. They longed for its metallic taste every second they walked this earth. They were neither living nor dead.
Vampires, they were commonly called. How they laughed at that name. So long ago were they given that title at the peak of their existence. After that time, their race slowly grew few, slaughtered of by foolish humans. Hunters they called themselves. Murderers was a more popular name.
They didnt refer to themselves with any sort of name, they only knew they walked among that of the undead.
Some thought of it a curse, to be damned for eternity, to never breathe human life again, to walk the thin line between Earth and Hell, to be monsters. But, many more thought of it as being reborn. They were chosen to live as that of a different species. Special, they called themselves.
The undead had few weaknesses. Crosses and holy water didnt affect them. They couldnt die from a blade to the heart, or being burned at the steak.
Their only poison was dead mans blood. If entered in the blood stream it caused an extreme amount of pain.
Light was their only true weakness. None knew why, but when they stepped out in the day it did not go well. When the suns rayed touched their skin it caused it to burn. None went out in the day.
They thrived in the night. They were stronger, faster. Sounds and smells became more acute. They could smell human skin and could hear blood pumping a mile away. Darkness was their home.
The party of the undead, which was made of three, fled from the bloody scene that they created. They ran with such haste, they would have been a blur to human eyes. They ran to safety through the deep forest.
Light was near them. They needed to be quick.
The forest opened into a green field of grass. Inside the property was placed a gothic mansion that which would fit any honorable monarch. The undead hurried to its doors as the sun edged its way over the horizon. The first two entered safely, but as the third closed the door shut, her right forearm was stung by a beam of light.
She let out a sharp wince from her lips and slammed the large oak door shut. She pulled her arm into herself as a fierce pain erupted through the entire right side of her body.
"God Damn-it, Christopher," She cursed, "Do you always have to cut it that close?"
The light haired teenage boy turned to her and smirked, "I'm sorry, Victoria. Next time, I wont be so careless." His dark eyes held malice, along with all the members of the undead.
Victorias beautiful face contorted into a sneer, her dark eyes burning with true anger, "Maybe next time, my brother, I will cut off your head."
The remaining member of the party, Luther, spoke, sharing his wisdom and age in his words, "Brother, sister, why do you argue? We have just fed. This should be your time of peace before we return to the family.
"You act as if each other were one of the Murderers. You are family! Act as such!"
Victoria and Christopher looked at each other, then back at Luther. They both nodded, bitterly.
"Alright, now we need to call the family together," Luther explained, "It is time for the meeting."
They walk the night, taking hearts and taking life...
The family gathered in a dark, expensively furnished living room. Each of the undead chose their places mechanically, knowing that their place showed their position in the family.
Those that sat on the plush, luxurious couches were elders, even though they could never show their true years. None of the undead could show age, which caused them to look forever young and beautiful.
Those that stood against the walls were the young, immature members of the family. They tended to rebel, since they were always put on a short leash by the older members. The undead despised limitation.
And finally those who sat in the two chairs in front of the fire place were the mother and father of the family. This rank was chosen by the elders for the most and best qualified. They led the family and finalized important actions and decisions. The mother and father would never have been in love, since love was a quality that the undead could never express. They could only show thirst and anger.
"Brothers, sisters, family, I know we say this every meeting, but it has become that of the utter most importance," Father spoke, "The Murderers are growing in numbers. They are getting smarter, stronger, faster. The sons and daughters of former Murderers have been trained and now they are ready."
"We are at war," Mother added, "We are one of the last families. We are responsible for the fate of our people."
Caleb, a new member of the family spoke first as he leaned near the doorway, "They find out about our race and for that they slaughter us as if we were farm animals. We should return the favor."
All the other members of the walls agreed quickly with shouts and cheers.
Father immediately silenced the yelling that had come from the walls, "Silence! This meeting will not consist of yelling."
The members of the walls spoke together, "Sorry, Father."
Mother spoke again, "Elders, what do you think?"
There was silence as the couches thought carefully over their options. None of the elders shouted out their feelings at once. They all thought over what they were going to say carefully.
Luther spoke first, "Our only sensible option is to let them come to us. No good will come with us leaving our home to search down and kill the murderers. We risk exposing our race."
"We should separate," Rose, another elder proposed, "Some of us can stay here and the rest can leave to search for them. If they do not return, the others will be able to carry on."
Edward spoke up quickly, "No, we should stay together. We cant separate. We are stronger together."
"And so are the Murderers," Luther pointed out.
"Then what do you propose we do, but sit here like weak beasts and wait for our death?"
The couches and even the walls turned silent.
"There is always another option," Father said, after a few minutes of still silence, "The spread of blood."
"We can help our people grow," Mother added, "We could turn the Murderers into one of our own. In their eyes, change them from hunters to hunted."
The room stayed quiet for a few minutes as everyone thought over this new idea. It was undoubtedly the best option and it was preferred by all.
One thing the undead loved was the taste of irony and this had to be the sweetest they ever tasted.
You will burn in Hell, they say, you will burn in Hell...
Once again the sun fell and opened up the night. Darkness formed their new strength. They were now ready for whatever was to come.
They all formed on the grounds of their property just before the trees. They all waited for Fathers call to charge.
Father sniffed the air, suddenly, as a new smell entered to atmosphere- human flesh. An evil grin spread across his mouth. He nodded his head towards the younger members of the family and they mimicked his evil grin before they charged for the wall of trees.
Father followed after them as well as Mother and the other elders. Once, they crossed over the first line of bark, they entered deep darkness.
The smell was stronger. They were close.
The younger undead had taken to lurking in the shadows and searching for the Murderers. The others did the same.
A snap of a branch was heard only a few yards away from the undead. All their heads snapped in its direction, before they took off after it.
"Lynne, now!" Was heard from deep in the trees.
Before Christopher could take off at full speed and arrow sliced through his chest, right where his heart should have been. But, oddly a surge of pain entered the wound and he let out a cry- Dead mans blood.
The others looked back at Christopher before they went with more anger after the Murderers. Victoria remained behind to comfort Christopher in his pain.
The smell was now too strong for any of them to miss. A ripping sensation entered their gums and they let out sharp cries before their fangs elongated.
At the same time their fingernails morphed into claws and all of their dark eyes turned to a deep crimson.
They snarled at the Murderers. They wanted them dead, but they knew they couldnt feed. They must stay with the plan. They need them alive. They needed them to turn.
Arrows came straight at the undead, but they all dodged them easily as they continued to charge. Once the arrows stopped flying, the undead heard metal being unsheathed.
The Murderers came out of hiding and showed themselves. They were of many, but they were merely human. The undead didnt understand why they caused such a threat to their race.
But tonight they would no longer be merely human. Tonight was the night for the spread of blood. Tonight they would join their special race. Tonight they would walk the line between Earth and Hell. Tonight they would join that of the undead.
To be reborn. Made a new. A perfect, untarnished race in near.
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