Forbidden Blood

Prologue

Sitting, waiting for the world to shut off all the lights so that I can rise from the shadows and prowl on the frightened humans like the bloodsucker I am. The rosewood chair was my dearest companion as I set my cream-colored mug onto the surface of the ample, hazel brown table in the kitchen. A liquid, that is most unfamiliar to drink, rested quietly in the mug, creating silent ripples as a small chill ran through the room. A silent wind blew into my ear like it was trying to seduce me. Tick. Tick. The noise dripping out of the large clock on the wall was enough to make me want to smash the clock against the floor, but at the same time, it calmed me. The simple nature of the meaningless ticks. I clicked on the flat screen television on the wall in front of the table and flipped through the numerous channels until it fell onto the eight o’clock morning news with Ellen Kamischke. Bright colors shot out of the television as I looked down at my mug. I placed my index finger into the liquid and twiddled it in small, dramatic circles. The liquid swished side to side like waves crashing against the shore. I sucked on the amount of waves my finger was able to gather. It slid down my throat like water down a smooth river. I fought back the urge to dispose of the foul liquid, but I had to keep myself strong and alert for anything that might come lurking into the darkness of Salemn, Colorado. The dark blinds served as soldiers as they guarded the enemy rays of light from touching my skin. I was invulnerable to the effects of sunlight unlike the others. Even with this fact, I still did not enjoy being in the sun or having it touch my cold, dead skin. The brightness of it always seemed too much for me and pushed me until I fell in love with the loveliness of the night. The blinds may have been shut tightly, but tiny bits of sun slipped into the house, making the tile glisten like diamonds under a shining light. My hands trembled slightly as I wrapped them securely around the glass mug. This world of humans gave me a strong case of the tremors. Just their presence made me lose my mind in a place of unimaginable existence. My mind ate away at those negative thoughts and commanded my eyes to face the television. A young woman entered the kitchen wearing banana yellow pajama pants that were running down her long legs and almost completely over her toes. A hazel brown tank top covered her torso and stomach area, clashing with the color of her pants. Her elegance as she swayed across the room, was rare compared to what I have seen in my time. A flawless beauty that could bring the most ruthless men to their knees. Her dark brown hair was trapped in the cage of a messy ponytail. When it was liberated, her hair went a little past her shoulders. Light brown captured the color the inside of her eyes and she stood about six feet tall. Her skin was a little pale due to her lack of sunlight. Like me, she was a creature of the night.