“I cleared my throat behind him. “Sorry to disturb you while your eating…” He lifted hi head to look at me, thick viscous liquid dripped down his chin and he drew back his top lip and snarled at me. Any normal, sane person would have legged it by now. Not me, I’d seen my share of vampires and this child didn’t even make me flinch. I think I sighed, that admittance of apathy seemed to make him take a proper look at me. I don’t know what it was that made him bolt. Maybe it was the stakes strapped to my belt or the bow at my back. Or ,maybe new vamps just get a mug shot with the words crazy bitch stamped across it. Either way he ran. When vamps start running that usually my que to start blindly firing in their direction. Most vampires have super speed so me chasing is a waste of energy but like I said, this guy was new. So I pursued.
He’d just rounded the corner of the underpath and was up the stairs toWaterloo. Not after all this, not now I couldn’t let him get on a train.Waterloostation at midnight is pretty quiet on a week day, luckily for me it was Saturday. I dodged crowds of people waiting for the last train. I actually knocked an old man over with no time to apologise I got a few choice words shouted at my back. Where was he? I’d lost him. Shit. I needed height I needed to see over these people. I scanned the crowd for a bench, a trolley anything with enough height to give me a shot. There was an information stand in the middle of the station. I ran over to it and managed somewhat ungracefully to hoist myself on top. I looked around my eyes darting to every face, every back of head, everyone else.
There the bastard was. He was heading for the Jubilee Line. I had a clear shot. I pulled my bow out of its sheaf and readied an arrow. I took aim. The whole world slowed. I could hear my heart in my ears and I breathed slowly. I cleared my mind, everyone else disappeared. I aimed for his heart through his back. I breathed again trusting in my training, trusting in myself, trusting in my goal. I released the arrow. It soared through the crowd and sunk home into the back of his cape. He turned, stunned, I could see the whites of his eyes. His mouth was open but no noise came out. He was clutching his chest. The arrow head protruding neatly out of hid chest. Jackpot. Then from the outside of the puncture wound his skin and clothing began to crinkle and curl, smoke billowed out in thin grey ribbons. Then just as quickly as it had started it spread licking all over his body engulfing him until a man of fire stood in his place. Then the entire special of it all imploded. Sucked into oblivion as if he never existed. All vamps go their own way but the end results is the same. They’re very considerate that way. No body. No evidence makes my life easier. ”
Copywright Karla Mouncey-Jaggers
“Good evening beautiful” he said with a huge grin that showed off his fangs. He was wearing a cut off t-shirt with no sleeves. The shirt said ‘Iron Maiden: number of the beast” it had a grotesque skeleton holding a puppet of the devil, I marvelled at the irony. He looked like he had been poured into his faded black jeans. He could have been the sixth member of Iron Maiden with shorter hair.”
BENIDICT
Age:665
Born to his human life in 1311, son of a baker he came from humble beginnings in Old London. At the age of 35 on the year 1346 he was mugged, robbed and left dying in an alley. His maker Rosalind found him and took pity on him she turned him into a vampire. Rosalind was a terrible role model she left him after a few years to fend for himself.
Ben fought his way to the top, after he was accepted into the London vampires in 1450 he challenged and killed every superior vampire. He killed the previous arch vampire Jack in 1652. Ben owns and runs a heavy metal pub in Soho; “The Broken Cross”
(c) Karla Mouncey-Jaggers 2011
After a long week of work I sit at my desk to begin typing up some more pages. With my kitten watching me from my bed, my mug of tea is steaming and music blaring next door I sit and let Liv talk to me.
As she strides down the streets ofLondonin my mind I silently try to take notes on what she thinks, feels and does.
Sometimes I wonder if she exists…
“I felt a sense of inevitability, and underlying feeling of predetermination. Not as strong as déjà vu but there nonetheless. I was nearing the window and I could see rows of sleeping bags in many different designs and colours. Everything was fine and then it struck me when had I ever seen a group of children so still. I bent down to catch a glimpse of one of their faces, I leant on the window to get my balance and it creaked which made me jump. I stepped inside and a smell hit me it was a metallic smell, strong and fresh. I knew that smell. I pulled back a sleeping bag, the boy inside was deadly still, his eyes were closed and his hands were lifeless at his ears as if he was reaching for something. He looked like he was sleeping except for the wound at his neck, two round puncture holes with deep purple bruising. His wound mirrored my own.”
(c) Karla Mouncey-Jaggers 2011
oliviaeverett 