Taste

The burst of my pen alerted me to recognise I was fixating. The ink splattered my lips and I licked them on instinct, suddenly repulsed by the taste.

"Daydreaming again?" My sister, Tam, asked as she padded down the stairs in her sheer dressing robe. I could make out the blemishes on her skin underneath.

"Not exactly. Is that Zach in bed?"

She nodded, hazel eyes trained on me. They knew just where to look to make me shiver.

"Have you ate?" In her curiosity, she opened the refrigerator, juggling vegetables in her hand as she came back to the island.

I looked back up from the marble, meeting her halfway.

"Um, yeah. I think I had a ham sandwich for lunch."

Her stare was accusing. "Okay, let me see what's going on here..."

Snatching the newspaper from under my elbows, her eyes darted across the headline and skimmed the first few paragraphs. She was trying to maintain face, but I could see the cracks in her foundation.

She placed the paper back down, leaning across the counter so we were at close proximity. I could distinguish her every feature easily from here.

Tam and I were far apart in age; her being two years short of thirty and tomorrow being my eighteenth birthday. Even so, due to the stress of being a single mother, soft crow's feet had embedded themselves into her skin and even her laugh lines were intensified. Yet, I never thought of her as bad-looking. Her sunny hair and hourglass shape left nothing much else to be desired.

Every time I looked at my sister, I didn't see a past beauty; I saw life.

"Emmy, you can't keep immersing yourself in tabloids. Just because a woman was killed in..." She lowered her eyes to read. "Nottingham, doesn't mean that's going to happen here. It's probably made up news anyway."

I grumbled. Murders had been happening a lot lately, all over the UK. Just last week, an elderly lesbian couple was found dead in their flat in Inverness. That wasn't the worst part of it though...

Every time I saw a headline, it seemed like the murders were getting closer to where we lived. Manchester was less than two hours' drive from Nottingham– and so, naturally, I feared we were next.

Cutting up her veg with a butter knife, Tam's voice rung out to me, loud and clear, except I was still too busy reading.

The victim, Anna McPhee, 26, seems to be the tenth case that resembles the work of rumoured serial killer, The Carver. She was discovered, drained of blood and a Catholic cross marked onto her left cheek.

"...am I right?"

"Hmm, what?" I tilted my head again, meeting with raised eyebrows from my sister. She'd just finished blending her food together into a small shake. "Sorry... I think maybe I should head to bed."

Sipping her juice, she watched me head for the stairs. Just as I made the first step, however, the doorbell sounded. She and I exchanged cautious glances, with her creeping around to it. My nails dug into the banister.

Swinging the door open, I immediately loosened when she bellowed.

"Mr Clarke? I thought our appointment was Wednesday." She smiled, one so wide it's like she wished he'd slip in there and never come back out.

"This is Wednesday."

Looking to me for confirmation, she extended an invitation. I'd seen Mr Clarke before, plenty of times when I was a little kid, scolding me for denting his car with my bike or making conversation with my dad while they cropped the garden roses. He was a decent man, but never anyone special.

Tipping his flat cap to me, my sister reached for his hand and began pulling him towards the stairs. Needless to say, I sidestepped so they could get past.

As a door closed, I threw the newspaper in the bin. Tam was right; reading that stuff wasn't good for me, I'd only end up upsetting myself. So, in the silence that followed, I pricked an ear to the ceiling.

Almost immediately, the bed-springs started.

I fumbled in my jean back pocket and took out my phone. I was supposed to run to the ATM to get money for rent earlier today; it had skipped my mind previously... but it was already nearly eight; curfew. Weighing up the pros and cons in my head, I quickly sliced up a clove of garlic and consumed it. Just in case.

Taking Zach's Spongebob umbrella because it was sturdier than mine, I dashed out the front door. It was only lightly raining, but knowing my luck, it would undoubtedly become a monsoon. My boots hit the concrete and I'm pretty sure a few stones got wedged between the grooves.

Coming to the ATM, I inserted my card and waited for it to read.

The shrill weep of the warning alarm resounded through the air, causing birds to fly by and squawk in terror. I watched as a blackbird soared right by me, wings almost tangling themselves in my hair.

However, my mind reeled not to get distracted and I punched in my pin with rapid fingers. Looking quick over my shoulder, I faced back when the machine beeped thrice.

Incorrect pin.

The horror encompassing me completely as the final alarm drilled, my fast fingers soon also became shaky, water dripping from them. I couldn't miss the numbers... why the hell was I taking so bloody long?

"Pretty girls should be inside their warm houses."

Flipping around, the umbrella fell from my hand and crashed to the ground, and I was showered in God's tears instantly. My hair clung to my face, but I didn't dare whip it back. My eyes were all for the predator a few meters away.

I fumbled around my neck for my crucifix. Baring it to the creature, I cowered as he produced a smirk.

"It's after eight," The man with amber eyes shifted his attention briefly to the siren overhead. "People are forbidden to roam at night."

Swallowing down the massive lump that had begun to form in my throat, I recalled all my old school lectures. I could recite an incantation, or a word of the Lord, all in the vain hope that he'd change lanes.

Just as he took a step closer, we both caught onto the searing shriek of car brakes. Heading this way down the narrow road was a white van with a black sun painted on the hood and car doors. The rain beat down on their unwiped windscreens and on the dirt that covered the once-sleek frosted coat.

I exhaled as four bodies climbed out, brandishing crossbows, religious items and a large container. They surrounded us, two to either side of me, causing a blockade as the two bigger men flanked the predator from behind.

Taking my bank card out the machine, the man and I watched them with intent.

"Run along now, pet. You don't have to be afraid anymore." The guy to my right said. He was small in not only stature but the scars on his exposed flesh told me not to underestimate him. "We'll take care of this sick fuck."

I winced. I'd felt fear when confronted by this man, yes, but there were laws he still had to abide by. He wouldn't risk his life for a meal... surely?

Before I could get another word out, one of the men behind cocked the cylinder and a web came flying towards the stranger. Just when he was about to dodge, two arrows were shot into him from both sides and then the net threw him to the ground. Unable to fight it, his screams of mercy carried through the air, all the way to me and how I continued to just stand there and bare witness.

The silver burned his flesh and the smoke rose high, turning black with the longer I stared. Soon, the creeper would be nothing but ash; a billow in the wind. It would carry him through the night until the morning sun where he'd disappear.

Despite the twisted sensation of seeing the fiend suffer – I knew that's exactly what it was. He was suffering, dying, all because I was too lazy to go to the shop earlier.

Snatching my umbrella back from the ground, I dug the tip into the back of the scarred guy. Crying out in pain, he turned, when I popped it open and swung it across his face, sending him straight to the ground.

Before the others took notice of it, I slid over towards the crumbling monster and yanked the silver chain off him. My heart pounded at the endless possibilities that could ensue, but in the brief moments that the web was in my hands and the men were left standing, I think I knew I did the right thing.

In a flash, the bodies of the four men all fell to the ground, knocked out until sunrise. My jeans had soaked up all the water beneath me; my mobile most likely destroyed.

I looked at the OneLife weaponry. Crossbows, glass vials of holy water, UV lights and stakes. They never had held back when it came to preserving the human race.

"Hey," Kneeling down so we were face-to-face again, the thing with the amber eyes gazed at me. "Thank you. What you did, that was really brave."

Swallowing, I rose to my full height, unable to look at him again. From what I'd made out previously, he was handsome. That was the last thing I needed right now.

Unable to linger with him any longer, I made a break for it. I dashed straight for my house without a single look back, the drench of my clothes almost slowing me down and making me an easy target. Even when I opened my gate, I couldn't believe one-hundred percent that I was out of harm's way.

Locking the door behind me and marking it with the holy cross, it was only then that I welcomed the tumbling emotions that came with meeting my first vampire.