Day 9 - part 2

Vanessa tied the tourniquet around her upper arm and tapped the vein in her elbow. She then inserted the needle and blood began to flow into the vial. Four vials later she relaxed the tourniquet and removed the needle, wiping the puncture mark with a little of her saliva. Almost as soon as the needle was out the small wound began to heal, not a drop of her blood was lost.

She prepared four injections, each of her blood. The boy first. Vanessa was dressed in her nurses uniform, she felt it would help his subconscious accept the treatment. She went into his room. He lay naked and half awake on the bed.

“Hello my lovely, I have your next treatment, if I could just have your arm.” She tied the tourniquet around his arm and as the vein grew proud in his elbow she inserted the needle and then relaxed the tourniquet. The vein was now pumping blood back to the heart for recirculation, she slowly mixed in the sample of her own blood, then wiped the injection site with a little of her own saliva to prevent leakage.

“There you are my lovely,” she said softly, her hand in his groin, “that injection will soon make you strong, meanwhile let me help you feel better.” She lifted her uniform up and as his arousal grew with her stimulation, she mounted him. She may not have intended to taste his blood, but the light from his sex was something she had no intention of missing out on.

After the boy had finished she smoothed her uniform down and went back to her room. “One down, three to go” she said to herself picking up the injection for the first of the girls. Her intention was to be much the same, but without the ending that the boy had. She preferred to wait until the girls were fully clean and treated by her blood before she sampled their delights. It did not take long and all four were treated and laying semi comatose in their beds.

“Eldred,” she said, “why not give Long John some blood. It won’t hurt him and then he can be another source of food, also he will be better under our thrall.”

“You can, but, then he would be detectable as under our control, and as to feeding, his mind is gone, it could addle your brain too for a while if you feed from him. No, he really is best controlled with thrall and thrall alone. But I do think another trip tomorrow to get another four would be a good idea.”

“I told you Eldred, too many in the same week can cause suspicion.”

“I know what you told me. I am your Elder, your father, your creator. Tomorrow you will go and get another 4 foods.”

“But Eldred…”

“Enough.” He used a voice that she had never heard before but it contained command and control she didn’t know he was capable of. She did realise though that if he was capable, then so was she. She would investigate that later.

“I am fed up of your constant questioning and bickering. You will go and get the conveyance and we will not get the food tomorrow, we will get it today. I need young blood, the sardines are too old for my taste. I will exhaust the new food supply if we only have the few that we have. I have spoken. Go, you know what to do.”

Vanessa could hardly believe it, she found herself getting up and going out, knowing that she would come back with a mini bus. “I have got to get me that voice,” she decided.

Mavis had assembled what she needed, and had studied the pages written on the ancient skin in her very old book of Spells and Lore, the words written in a language that very few would understand, written in a language long fallen and even when it was used, rarely written. She knew that time now was key, that she had to get to the monster before his den grew, before he established himself again, before he converted more to his way.

Evil was not a word she associated with the Vampyre, she knew that Vampyres were ancient, possibly the most ancient of the races that had walked the Earth, and as such, they predated religions, and it was religions that created the concepts of Heaven and its antipathies. Once a concept was created it was very difficult to ‘uncreate’ it, Heaven did indeed now sit as a place for those that had done things classed as ‘good’ by the adherents of the religion that created it, and equally a not so pleasant place existed for those that had done bad. Mavis liked to think of the two places as just a pair of semidetached dwellings in a long street of other realms. It wasn’t like that in the literal sense, but it worked as an idea.

There was no hell for Vampyres, they had no need for such concepts being immortals. There was no way to uncreate the Vampyres, they had always existed , but she could cease them, and that is what she planned to do today. The last of the Vampyres would today cease to exist. She planned that today the Vampyre would go to the street of other realms and be tortured and plagued into nothingness.

She began to mix the ingredients in her mortar incanting words in an ancient Cymric tongue as she worked the pestle. Her words added a potency to the mix and as she worked it became greater somehow than the ingredients added one by one to the pot.

What she was creating would not be the mix to get rid of the Vampyre, it was a potency to locate and track the ancient to his lair. The spirits of the other realm would, once she had faced him down, then draw him across where he would dissolve into all the souls he had consumed over the years, it was them that would finish him off, their ultimate revenge.