Chapter 7

Chapter 7



A chill sets over me almost instantly as I stare down the corridor realizing I’m in another secret passage of this trick house. I start making my way down the hall. The decor has changed from the rest of the house for sure. Dark stone walls, in a hall lined with torches. Not electric torches for show, but actual flaming torches. Someone has a flair for the dramatic. The screaming has stopped but, that just makes me more nervous. Someone was in pain here just a few minutes ago. Were they put down? I pause at the end before the hallway makes a right turn.

Peeking around the corner the scent of copper wafts through the air. I slide around and stay low. Another staircase leading down. No door this time, I walk right into the next area. I recognize what kind of operation is going on right away. Suddenly everything makes sense, from the abductions to the cold room.

Dozens of people strapped into chairs with tubes stretching from their veins. This is an underground blood bank. This isn’t the kind where people donate blood to vampires for some quick cash. This is one where they just drain the people until there’s nothing left. Still, they had to be down here for ages. I make my way to the first person and cut the leather straps from her angles and arm. I press my finger down where the needle is in her vein and remove it slowly. She’ll bleed for a few minutes, but it’s better than being held captive.

“Are you able to walk,” I ask her, looking into her sunken eyes. She’s been here for a while.

“I think so,” she mumbles through a dry voice making it clear they haven’t been taking care of these people.

“How long have you been here,” I ask trying to gather some information.

“What’s the date,” she responds palming the arms of the chair and lifting herself up.

“June ninth 2019,” I respond.

“Then I’ve been here for four months, but some of the people in the back have been here way longer. He keeps us alive with some kind of shots.”

“Alright, I’ll get them out. You just make your way to the surface. Take your time, just follow the hallway. It’s a straight shot,” I say making my way to the next chair.

I make my way to the next chair, this time an older man. Again, I try to get as much information as I can. He doesn’t have much for me that I don’t already know. I repeat the process another three times before moving to the next room. More of the same. More people, different ages, races and genders. Everyone bleeds.

This is the work of one of the vampires from The Primeval breed of vampires. They’re said to be the first of the vampire kind. At least they believe it and act that way. In my opinion they’ve been watching too many old films. Many of them are around 150 years old and think they’re carrying on Dracula’s legacy or something. Dracula was is a myth, used to spread panic among humans. It kept us away from places vampires were likely to be hiding way back then. Now, not so much. Still they all maintain those 1800s mannerisms. After 100 years it isn’t strange that some of them can develop special abilities that other vampires don’t have. A survival trait I suppose, when others can do things they can’t. I imagine whoever is in charge of this has some kind of mind control ability. They all turn humans to thralls but Strigoi? No, that would take some kind of mind control.

So, they had to use the Strigoi to clear out the werewolves. The Primeval don’t usually work in groups, so there’s just one behind this for sure. Probably used some of the people who have been here the longest to build the tunnels below the house. The cold temperature was to keep the blood down here refrigerated. The only question left is why they got so sloppy with the abductions all of a sudden. I make my way to final room and free a few more.

I arrive at the last chair. I’ve seen some young people in here, but this one is younger than the others. They really had to be panicking to start taking teenagers. He doesn’t wakeup when I cut his straps or remove the needle from his vein. He doesn’t even bleed when the needle comes out, he’s almost empty. I check his neck for a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there. He’s got a chance if we can get him some medical attention right away. I pick the kid up and place him on my shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He can’t weigh much of anything at this point. I wonder how long he’s been here. Some of the other people have been here two or three years, but judging by his clothes he’s been here for a while.

I make my way out of the room still being cautious. I haven’t seen anyone down here that wasn’t strapped down, but there has to be someone close by. Someone has to be around to take care of the equipment and some of the bags looked almost full so they’d have to be here to switch bags sometime soon. I just hope I didn’t miss a trap door somewhere.

Almost on cue someone drops down from the ceiling and smashes directly into my chest. I fall to my back and drop the boy. He rolls lifelessly across the stone floor like a child’s discarded play thing. If he wasn’t near death before, he is now. I clutch my knife and slide my fingers into my brass knuckles. It was too much to wish this night could end without another fight. That’s just my luck. I rise to my feet and brace myself for another attack from my unseen opponent. I got caught slipping before, but it won’t happen again.

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