The Ice Cream Vampire

PROLOGUE

Casein Homo Sapiens

. Just 3 words in an otherwise unused language - three life-sustaining words for vampire-kind.

So, what's the issue? Sure, they can just get a wife, induce lactation, and live happily ever after. Well for one thing, they're not

Homo Sapiens

, they're

Homo Caseinophilus

; interspecies relations are just not a thing around here.

Secondly, straight from the mammary source is not enough. Too diluted. The chemistry is just wrong.

The solution: ice cream. Specifically, ice cream made from CHS...

HENRY

The alarm sounds, shaking Henry from his reverie. The truck is coming.

The Ice Cream Truck is coming.

The Special Life-Sustaining Ice Cream Truck. The truck bearing the icy, creamy delicacy that's 11% concentrated CHS. The right concentration. The right configuration. The right chemistry.

Just one problem: There's not enough milk. Human females just don't willingly give it up - not with the ever decreasing female population. Certainly not with their own spawn to feed. So, whatever is left for CHS Colloidal Emulsion production is rare. The age-old adage: demand exceeds supply.

The Ice Cream Truck is coming.

Henry's slightly-elongated prehensile tongue licks his lips in anticipation. The tongue - designed to wrap around an ice cream cone and warm it - flicks over his specialized canines; fangs evolved to sink into the creamy treat and extract the precious life-sustaining compound.

The Ice Cream Truck is coming. Nearer.

Henry gets ready. Puts on his protective yet flexible armor. Puts on his knuckle dusters. His steel-toed boots. No guns allowed; it will be all fisticuffs.

He takes deep breaths, psyching himself - steeling himself for the fight of his life. Literally, in the whole sense of the word.

He opens his front door, steps out of his home, and strides toward the waiting truck.

He notices, in the periphery of his vision, his kindred all heading towards the same goal.

The Ice Cream Truck is waiting.

Henry picks up his pace, almost skipping, almost jumping, towards the Truck and into the:

FIGHT!!!

MILA

Special Agent-in-Charge Mila rolled the Ice Cream Truck to a stop at the apex of the T junction. The side of the truck faced the Vampire Quarter's dead-end street - just like a regular street-food vendor getting ready for the lunch crowd.

The Ice Cream Truck cometh.

Ice Cream Truck is a misnomer really. Yes, it carries the precious frozen dairy treat - but for its intended purpose, it's more like a mobile blood bank unit. And an armored and armed one at that.

And it is not alone.

It heads a convoy of armed personnel from the Special Casein Unit of the Bureau of Vampire Affairs - the law enforcement agents who ensure the smooth, safe, and orderly dispensation of CHeeSe to the milksuckers. In this singular task, they are Judge, Jury, and Executioner.

The Ice Cream Truck is waiting.

Like a well-oiled machine, the escorting humvees took positions to the front and rear of the truck, cordoning the street, setting up a tight parameter. The anti-personnel guns atop each vehicle all trained towards this asphalt firing range, each weapon loaded with ammunition powerful enough to shred creatures with dairy-fortified muscles and bones. Cannons trained not so much to massacre the cheeseheads, but to ensure that their jostling for ice cream remains amongst themselves and not on the agents of the government.

The Ice Cream Truck is waiting. Soon.

Lightweight fencing was deployed across the T, separating the convoy from the Quarter. A line of demarcation. In the middle was a gate with armed and armored guards taking positions to either side, creating a corridor to the Truck. The setup is complete, the line now drawn between the Ice Cream Truck and the street that will become the gladiatorial arena beyond the fence.

Mila acknowledged the "all set" from her escorts, and signaled to her staff to prepare the Truck for business. She's an old hand at this, and pleased to be a regular supplier of the primary raw ingredient of the

Life

Cream - straight from her own rack. She's good at this job, might as well participate at

all

levels.

Mila stole glances out the truck as she gave one final critical eye on the inventory and preparations. Subconsciously, she's anticipating - more than she cares to admit - one particular individual. For as long as she had been driving the Ice Cream Truck,

he

had always been one of the survivors. Often, he would emerge from the arena with minimal damage, and be the first in line to the Truck. Recently, she and Henry had even started to chat while waiting for the rest - a pleasant respite from this grim business.

The Ice Cream Truck is ready.

Doors opened across the domiciles of the vamps. They came out - male, female, young, old - all geared up and ready to rumble. The Vampires - at least those that continued to survive - and the Agents have done this dance countless times. It's almost boringly routine if not for the fact it's literally a life or death situation.

The Ice Cream Truck is open for business.

Mila set her jaw, steeling herself - getting ready for yet another:

FIGHT!!!