Hunted Blood Ii Dark Reign Ch 1

Sheriff Barker peered over the edge of the twelve-foot boat. He held his aluminum Maglite in his hand as he looked into the black water of the swamp. One of his deputies was beside him, holding a large rechargeable spotlight. He shined it ahead of them, as another deputy maneuvered through the cypress knees using the trolling motor.

"Whoa," Barker said. He thought he saw something. "Come right again." The deputy turned the boat sideways, the small motor churning the black water quickly. "Right there," Sheriff said. "Hold it right there."

The boat coasted over the exact spot the sheriff had wanted. "Dammit, son," he swore, "when I say stop I mean stop."

"Sorry, Sheriff," the driving deputy said. "You don't exactly stop this thing on a dime."

Sheriff Barker rolled his eyes. Then he felt a 'thump' under his feet. He looked at the other deputy beside him. "Probably just a root," the deputy said. "Ain't real deep here."

Barker nodded. Then he heard something scraping on the bottom of the boat. As the aluminum boat moved slowly forward, it tipped slightly, not quite enough to throw anyone off-balance. The boat settled again, then stopped moving entirely. Barker took a deep breath. "Back us up real slow," he told the motor operator.

The deputy reversed the electric motor and the boat began to move to the rear. Barker and the other deputy trained their lights forward on the water. As soon as the boat had moved three or four feet, they saw it. It was there, floating just underneath the coffee colored water. It was a body. The body of a young girl.

They worked quickly, donning rubber gloves to pick the lifeless corpse out of the water. The body had already started decomposing, an attribute of the enzymes and animals that lived within the dark water of the swamp. They grimaced as they stuffed the lifeless husk into a plastic body bag. When they had finished, Barker ordered them back to the landing.

They pulled the boat along the shore. There was a place that had been cleared of the weeds and grass that grew along the swamp's edge. Here, local fisherman had made a boat landing. Once they had come to a stop, Barker got out. He walked up to Red Stewart. He looked Red in the eye. He just shook his head. Red started for the boat. Barker stopped him. "You don't want to, Red," Barker said with his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Its bad."

"I gotta look," Red said. He went to the boat, where a deputy, on Barker's nod, unzipped the body bag. Red looked for an instant, seeing the body of his daughter, then turned his head away and began to sob.

The man wearing the black raincoat saw it too. His trained eyes looked past the recent decomposition. He saw the holes in the young girl's neck. They were puncture wounds, precisely over her jugular vein. The distance between the two marks was equal. The man had no doubt as to what had made them. Seeing all that he needed, the man turned to leave.

"Hey," Sheriff Barker called. "Hold on just a damn minute!" Barker almost ran to catch up with the stranger. The sheriff recognized him. His county had had two prior deaths of young women in the past week. He had seen this strange, tall man at all of the crime scenes. He now noticed that the man had not stopped. "Hey, goddammit, I said stop!"

The man in the black suit and long coat stopped. He turned around. Sheriff Barker approached him. The man looked at the sheriff with cold eyes.

"Just what in the hell are you doing here? You got some kinda weird fetish for death?" Barker wanted some answers. He doubted this was the murderer, as they usually didn't show up at crime scenes. That was arsonists. Still, stranger things have happened.

"I'm doing the same as you, Sheriff," the man said evenly. "Collecting evidence."

Barker looked at the man as if he was crazy. "Do what?"

The man nodded. "You've got a problem, Sheriff. I am here to solve it."

"What the hell are you, a fed or something? You got some ID?"

The man shook his head. "No, not really," he answered. "But I may be able to answer some questions for you about who did this."

Barker looked sideways at the man in black. "Really?" he said dubiously. "Ok, who did it?"

"A vampire," the man replied casually.

Barker tried not to laugh. "Alrighty then," he said. "I aint got time for all of this bullshit. You show me some ID or you're going to jail."

The man looked Barker in the eyes. "I'm serious," he said. "How else are you going to explain the marks on the two, now three, dead bodies? Did your crime lab tell you that there was saliva in the wounds? Did they tell you that the saliva contained DNA that had never before been encountered?"

Barker looked carefully at the man. He had read the crime lab reports. He had not shared that information with anyone else. People in this small, back-swamp county were superstitious enough.

"How the hell do you know about that?" Barker asked.

"I know all sorts of things, Sheriff," the man replied. "You want to hear what else I know?" The man half-turned to walk away. Sheriff Barker shrugged and began to walk with him towards a gray Ford Taurus.

"You got a name, Mister?" the Sheriff asked.

"Michael Stone," the man said, extending his hand.

--

"So," Sheriff Barker asked as they drove down the old dirt road in Stone's rented car, "are you some kinda X Files agent or somethin'?"

Stone cracked a smile. "Actually," he replied, thinking about it, "I am kind of something like that. I work for an organization that is composed of members of many different world governments. I get paid to track down vampires."

Barker shook his head. All of this was really too much to believe. After talking with Stone a few minutes at the crime scene, though, Barker was ready to listen to the man. Any lead was better than no lead. Stone had asked some fairly specific questions, and Barker had given him exact answers. They were driving to an old house on the outskirts of the swamp roads now.

The old house had been built by one of the first settlers to this area. The farmers here had raised sugar cane. The house stood in the middle of an old cane field that was now mostly weeds. There were no lights on inside the house. The white paint was peeling, and the old picket fence that stood around the yard was falling down. Stone stopped the Taurus and got out. He paid no attention as to whether Barker had stepped out or not.

Barker did get out, and he hurried to catch up with Michael. They both stepped onto the old porch, whose boards creaked under the combined weight. Barker winced as the boards strained. Stone, however, walked calmly to the front door and placed his hand on the knob.

"Hey," Barker said, "you ain't got no search warrant."

Stone looked at the Sheriff out of the corner of his eye. "Didn't you tell me that this house was abandoned?"

Barker nodded.

Stone tried the knob. It didn't turn. He took a step back from the door, then plunged a side-thrust kick into it. The door flew into the interior of the house, knocked completely off its hinges. Stone walked inside.

The old house smelled of mildew and rat shit. Stone surveyed the main room. It was pitch dark inside the house. Barker illuminated the room with light from his Maglite.

"Switch that off," Stone told him.

"Why? Are you crazy?"

Stone took the light from Barker's hand. "Because I can't see," Michael told him. Stone had trained his eyes to see in the dark. To do this required a conditioning of the eye to take in all available dim light. The small amount of outside starlight was all Stone needed to visualize the room. The sudden intrusion of Barker's flashlight had blinded him.

Stone walked ahead. Barker heard what sounded like more boards creaking. He then realized that Stone was heading up the stairs. This was creepy. Fuck that. Stone could go by himself.

Michael went up the stairs and searched through two rooms before he found what he was looking for. He knew the vampires would not be here. This town was too small for them to go unnoticed for long. However, he had hoped that he would at least find some evidence of their having been. It was in the third room that Stone found it.

Michael held a small penlight between his teeth. The light shined a faint red beam. He then held up a small piece of paper in front of the light. The paper was scrawled with a glyph. No, it wasn't a glyph, Stone knew as he recognized it. It was a Japanese character. It was the symbol for akuma. Devil.

"They are gone," Stone told Barker as he came back onto the porch. The early morning fog was forming. Stone could just see the path that led to the old house.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Stone answered. "You won't have any more killings like this, Sheriff."

Stone walked towards the car. Barker stood there for a moment, bewildered, then followed the man in black.

--

She lay on the bed nude. She was young and beautiful, just the way he liked them. Definitely not Japanese, though. But that was okay, too. Her eyes were closed. He looked at the swell of her small breasts, and how the cool room air caused her nipples to harden. Her aureola's were pink and pretty. Her pussy, lewdly displayed for him, was swollen and glistening. There was a light covering of fine red hairs on it. The pubic hair matched the hair on her head.

He climbed onto the bed, scooting himself between her legs. He adjusted her legs so he parted them with his own. He kissed her softly, running the tip of his tongue along her pink mouth. She moaned softly, darting her tongue out to caress his.

He reached between their bodies and positioned his cock at her entrance. Her eyes snapped open when she felt him push it in. She pushed back against him, feeling him slide his length all the way inside her. A gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as he buried himself in the warm, wet confines of her sex.

He began to move slowly at first. In and out, gripping her hair loosely in his hands as he fucked her softly. She moved her hips with his, grinding slowly against him. He looked at her, saw that her eyes were slits, her mouth forming a little 'O'.

He tucked his hand under the small of her back, pressing her body close to him, allowing her pubic mound to contact his. He could feel her fucking him, her movements causing him to increase his pace. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck.

He fucked her harder now, her moans changing into grunts as he thrust hard into her. He licked across her throat, down the exposed side of her neck, sucking forcefully on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Her fingers were digging into his ass as she pulled him into her. He felt her pussy begin to contract on him. It started at the tip of his penis and worked its way down until his entire cock was clenched tightly. He felt her cunt spasm in orgasm. He no longer needed to hold her head back, as it was thrown back in a silent scream of pleasure.

That was when he bit her.

His fangs sank into her jugular vein. The warm, salty, metallic taste of her blood filled his mouth. He sucked hungrily, greedily. She screamed in pain, in terror, in fear as she felt her life drain away.

He drank until there was no more. And finally, her heart stopped beating. He withdrew from her. Wiping his mouth, he dressed in a robe, and opened the bedroom door. "Bring another," he said into the hallway.

--

"Looks like I am headed to Japan," Stone said into his cell phone. The voice on the other end replied in a thick German accent.

"Shall I contact a friend?"

Michael considered it for a moment. "Yes, it may help."

"It will be done. Good faith to you."

And the call was ended.

To be continued...