3.104 - Stab Me Harder Vamp Daddy

3.104 - Stab Me Harder Vamp Daddy

I'm in the process of renumbering the series. This is 3.104 under new numbering. Under the old number, it's under 156.

We’re all standing on the back lawn at sundown dressed for a funeral that doesn’t allow shoes or socks. Old Ben got all of the men tailored suits that are a little too old fashioned for my taste, then he had us burry them in the dirt last week. I’ve been trying to figure out how to confront them about the human trafficking, as if they’ll stop because I ask nicely. The women are across from us, just as dirty, in old fashioned dresses that spread out from the hips. Old Ben and Granny are different, their clothing style is just as old, but in contrast to us they’re dressed in white, completely unblemished. I clap along with everyone else as they make a grand entrance. I wonder if anyone else has the same hate in their heart for them that I do.

“We’re glad to have you here, the family that we sired,” Granny begins. “Today, we welcome three more into our ranks, if they have the will to survive. Those of you who wish to find a new path on the edge of life and death, come forward.”

Ashley, Catalina and Isaac step forward with no hesitation. Old Ben bites his finger and uses his blood to draw various symbols across their faces. They state their name and pledge allegiance to their new family. Similar to our marriage, I suppose Destiny and I did have a rushed ceremony, that I was barely alive for. Each is given an ornate gold chalice to drink from. I can smell the blood from here, and they all wince to swallow it down.

San nan san mwen,” they repeat after each swallow.

San nan san mwen, the words that Destiny spoke over and over again when I was being turned. I’ve since learned they mean blood in my blood, or blood of my blood depending on the translation. I’m not sure it’s part of the ritual or simply a promise that when this is done, you become family. Each kneels on the ground when they’ve finished, waiting for the next step.

“Today we come to the Gods, asking for a release. A release from the bonds of slavery, exploitation, the evils of humanity and all that burden us. We ask for the power to dethrone our oppressors and the guidance that we may not oppress others,” Granny generally seems to be acting, but this time, it’s as if she believes every word she says. “We pray for those that are being exploited, trafficked and abused. We also pray for those that are guilty of keeping them confined for they have fallen victim to the evils of mankind. Deliver us from this. Deliver us from the ways of man, so that we may not cause pain. Bless these three before us. Make them better than we are. Turn them into beacons for the next generation and let them shed light on our own evils.”

I’m not sure if the prayer is for the three kneeling before her, or for her. It was a nice prayer, but almost all of it was begging for forgiveness of crimes she had done. Old Ben passes each a gold dagger encrusted with jewels of various colors and ornate etchings.

“Choose your sire,” Old Ben tells them.

Ashley and Catalina both rush towards Isis but Ashley makes it there first. Catalina pouting gets some chuckles, but she offers her knife to Michael. Are they close? Granny doesn’t really let the men and women talk, but he takes it graciously. Ashley and Cataline return to stand in front of Granny and Old Ben with Micahel and Isis right behind them holding the knives proudly. Isaac hesitates, he doesn’t rush to anyone. He begins to walk towards Sampson but pauses. He turns to me and starts to walk. There’s a few laughs as I visibly shake my head and try to wave him away. If this ceremony is anything like when I was turned I’m not a fan of playing with his intestines.

“You have all chosen,” Old Ben says. “Now, present yourselves.”

Each holds out an arm, Michael and Isis bite down, drinking deeply. I follow their steps and bite down on Isaac’s wrist. I think this is the first time I’ve drank from a live person. I don’t like it, I can taste the sweat, the cologne he wears. This isn’t for me. When Michael and Isis stop, I stop as well, still unfamiliar with this.

“It is time, to decide your fate,” Granny speaks. “Do not hesitate, you were brave to come this far already.”

Without hesitation, Isis and Michael slit the throats of Catalina and Ashley. I watch in horror as their bodies drop to the ground with smiles. Isaac keeps waiting for me to slice his throat, something I can’t bring myself to do. I read the book, I know you have to die, I just didn’t expect to be the one doing the killing. I was already dying, but I suppose you can’t wait until you’re on the verge of death to do it.

“Just do it, I trust you,” Isaac whispers.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes while I yank the knife across his throat. I don’t let his body drop carelessly to the ground. The others begin to celebrate and party. We’re supposed to wait on them to come back, it could be a few minutes or a few days from what I read. Nobody seems concerned at all, they’re already toasting champagne and celebrating the birth of three new Adze. I don’t move, I sit next to the bodies and wait for them to return. Seventeen minutes go by and Ashley starts to cough and gasp for air, the cut along her neck gone. There’s cheers as she steadies her breathing and sits up, coming back to the world. Still covered in her own blood she joins the party, gorging on blood. One hour and twenty-four minutes after the cutting, Catalina wakes, the same as Ashley. The two celebrate knowing the both made it.

Seven hours after the ceremony, and the sun is beginning to rise. On the opposite end, Isaac is still lying stiff, his body is getting cold. The party seems to have wrapped up with everyone heading off in their own directions. Sampson walks past and just nods his head at me, I nod back, the most interaction we’ve had since New Orleans. I watch the sunset, and keep watch over Isaac’s body. If he doesn’t come back, I’d feel some sort of guilt for it. Twelve hours pass before Isaac moves. He doesn’t awaken with some choking as his wound heals, he doesn’t awaken at all. His body twitches, and grinds his teeth. His wound is healing but I can’t seem to wake him up. He’s alive, but something is wrong. I call for help, but nobody comes. He just keeps shaking then suddenly goes still. When his eyes open, tears begin to fall in an instant.

“I’ve been a terrible person,” he says when he sees me waiting.

“We’ve all been terrible,” I can’t help but hug him.

I have to imagine we look ridiculous sitting in the sun, covered in mud, blood and now tears. Somehow the relief of Isaac returning to life and his new-found life outlook caused me to let out all of the things I’ve been holding in.


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