Vampire Kitten Read online

  Vampire

  Kitten

  DAWN HARSHAW

  www.DawnHarshaw.com

  Cover design by

  James T. Egan of Bookfly Design

  www.bookflydesign.com

  Copyright © 2018 Dawn Harshaw

  All rights reserved.

  Vampire

  Kitten

  Empathy is the ability to feel as one. The outpouring Love broadens your identity and expands who you are, restoring the subject of your Love to its rightful place in your heart.

  - Dreamer's Handbook

  "Oh no," Elise put her hands on the cage. "What has he done to you?"

  The kitten inside meowed pleadingly. Decay marred deep into its flesh, and fur has fallen off around the patches of diseased skin.

  Elise wanted to cradle and console the kitten, but a sense of caution overruled the protective impulse. Vampires had great natural resistance to disease, yet it was drilled into her to stay away from decaying flesh - especially if it still moved.

  She examined the large table upon which the small cage stood: rusty knives and dirty spoons, bottles, vials, and several disemboweled rat corpses.

  So, Bron, this is what you do in your spare time... She poked one of the rat cadavers with a stick. Thankfully, it remained motionless.

  They all autopsied rats in class - after all, knowledge of anatomy was important for young vampires - but all the splattered blood suggested the rats were still alive during the dissection. Elise entertained the thought that Bron was actually a budding genius dedicated to learning and scientific exploration, but the crude, jagged nature of the cuts suggested torture as a motive. You're not just a fat bully, but also a deranged psycho.

  A cockroach ran across the table. The kitten didn't stop meowing.

  A grey, metallic canister stood apart from the other bottles and containers; Elise looked for a not-too-dirty piece of cloth and grabbed the canister with it. BIOHAZARD. Experimental agent 2711, Midflower. Handle with EXTREME CAUTION! She put it back down as soon as she read the markings.

  "Did you steal it from your father? You sure as hell didn't stumble upon it by exploring the outer city," she mumbled aloud.

  The vampire enclave they all belonged to was established within an abandoned, but not completely ruined district of a pre-apocalyptic megalopolis. The clans of Starfire City took care of their young, but those born human held lesser status, so they often adventured unsupervised beyond enclave territory.

  The kitten's desperate meowing demanded attention.

  "What should I do with you, hmm?" Elise said affectionately.

  The obvious option, and probably the most merciful, would have been to end the kitten's suffering outright - as fast and clean as possible. The thought made her stomach turn, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. Besides, what if he finds out it was me?

  Elise examined several knives and grabbed one that wasn't rusted or damaged. This'll do. She spotted a lighter, picked it up, and tested if it works. Long flame, excellent! She steadily moved the knife back and forth over the flame. I hope it's just regular nasty stuff he poked around with and none of that biohazard stuff.

  She held out her open palm over the cage... She took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and slid the knife's edge across it. Blood bubbled from the wide gash and dripped down into the cage.

  That's it... Elise clenched her wounded fist to make it pour. Drink up.

  The kitten eagerly licked the blood as it ran down its nose and whiskers, and started lapping up from the puddle that formed on the bottom of the cage.

  Of course he's hungry; Bron didn't even think to feed him.

  Despite Elise clenching her fist, the gush of blood soon slowed to a trickle. It's healing already. She tore off a piece of cloth and wrapped it around her hand.

  The kitten licked the bottom of the cage clean and waited contently.

  Elise inspected the animal: the patches of decaying flesh had a coarse, orangish film formed on top. The eye-whites began turning red, but the kitten's demeanor remained calm. You poor thing. I hope my blood gives you strength to battle whatever disease he inflicted upon you.

  Elise deliberated whether to set the kitten free: If Bron figures out it was me who found his hideout and ruined his experiment-slash-torture... Ah, so what. I don't care.

  She was about to open the cage when she heard noise from outside the window.

  No! He can't be back already!

  Elise quickly scanned the room for potential hiding places: plenty of trash, but nothing big enough to reliably hide behind. One big broken window, two doorways - one of which was completely blocked.

  Climbing up those ancient vehicles piled up on the street was easy for Elise, but not so easy for Bron due to his weight.

  With only seconds to spare, Elise ducked through the unused, half-barricaded doorway. A few years ago, crawling through even the most cramped of places would have been effortless. Rats scurried out, and she tried not to breathe too much of the dust in.

  When Bron finally scaled the ledge, huffing, the kitten began to hiss.

  "What? You missed me? I brought some new toys for you."

  Elise watched silently while Bron retrieved another grey canister from his backpack and placed it on the table.

  "Maybe you'll like this more- Hey, what's that?" He leaned closer to the cage and the kitten bristled up. "Red eyes! That's a neat side-effect!"

  Bron opened the cage and reached inside. The kitten hissed and clawed, but he managed to grab it while incurring only a few scratches. "Feisty, aren't ya? Don't worry, this won't hurt. Well, not as much to kill you outright..."

  He struggled to open the canister with one hand while holding the kitten in the other. His juggling act failed when, just for a moment, he inadvertently lifted the kitten too close to his face.

  The kitten attacked with the strength of a vampire and the ferocity of a tiger. By the time the pain registered in Bron's brain and instructed his hand to drop the savage beast, half his face has been turned into finely minced meat. Too bad it'll heal.

  The canister fell from his hand, and after a few attempts at letting go, the kitten ended up flying against the wall.

  Bron scampered for the exit screaming "Mother! Mo-oooom!"

  A wicked grin snuck up on Elise's face almost by itself, and it only broadened when she saw the kitten shrug off the blow and charge after its tormentor. A thick, grey mass started leaking from the container - a pungent odor. Elise heard vengeful hissing mixed with inarticulate yells and the sound of boots bouncing off metallic boxes.

  Without his crew to back him up, he isn't tough at all... I almost feel silly for putting up with all his bullying. Elise crawled back through the half-barricaded door and dusted off her clothes.

  If I tell, the others will laugh and the elders will surely punish him. But, they'll reprimand me for sneaking out and vampirifying the kitten - I guess that's not their preferred solution to the rat problem.

  Elise carefully stepped over the spilt liquid. She climbed out the window and started making her way down.

  Maybe I should keep my mouth shut and blackmail Bron instead, so he stops bullying everyone... but I guess that's just wishful thinking.

  On the other hand - she grinned again and looked up to the starry sky - it'd be fun to watch him explain to his father how those canisters went missing... Enclave security and all.

  There are obvious things we're addicted to: food, air, water. More insidious are addictions to feelings, people, or states of mind.

  Perhaps most common is the addiction to being oneself, which results in resistance to change and clinging to the ego. On the other end of the spectrum we find those who refuse to Love themselves enough, and seek other addictions to fill the void.


  - Dreamer's Handbook

  "Next on today's agenda is..." Lady Cellie shuffled the pages around until she found the right one: "'The social implications of demon blood consumption.'" She put the page back down. "What shall we do with the junkies, gentlemen?"

  The three vampire clan leaders at the table - two lords and a lady - pondered the problem in silence. Their aides stood behind them, not speaking unless spoken to.

  Snow was falling outside.

  The youthful-looking Lord Aram of the Bloodthorn clan cleared his throat. "Err... nothing?"

  "What do you mean, 'nothing'?" Cellie asked, slightly annoyed.

  Lord Theodore of Stoneheart raised a hand. "Aram is right. Doing nothing is least costly, and we should consider this option, even if only as a baseline to judge other potential solutions by." His beard accentuated the projected air of wisdom.

  Cellie nodded. "I see..."

  "Yeah, that's what I meant. Thanks, Theo."

  "It's 'Lord Theodore' for you."

  The silence enveloping them lasted several minutes.

  Carved into a mountainside high above everything else, castle Aluin endured frequent blizzards and several apocalypses. Over the centuries it became known as the place where vampire officials journeyed to settle disputes of the highest order - or turn them into bloodbaths.

  "All right," Cellie said. "Here's how I see it. If we don't do anything, the cycle of rising supply leading to increased demand will continue. We can expect market saturation at best, or supply wars at worst... Except, is that really the worst? What about unforeseen side-effects? Will frequent demon blood consumption lead to decreased resistance to possession? Or what if a demonic entity catches on, and starts inducing specific mutations in possessed thralls for the express purpose of harming vampires consuming their blood?"

  "Chilling thoughts," Aram remarked. "It seems there's a biowarfare angle to everything we discuss nowadays."

  "Well, it's just common sense," Cellie said.

  Theodore snorted. "Hah! Not so common, I'm afraid. If such concerns were common, we wouldn't have a junkie problem in the first place."

  "Why don't I find that comforting..."

  "You take on too much responsibility," Theodore said. "You're the leader of the Helldare clan - not their Mother."

  Aram waved dismissively. "Enough with the flirting or whatever the two of you are doing, and let's consider solutions, shall we? What about a coordinated ban across our clans?"

  "I like bans," Theodore replied. "They're simple, direct, and project a sense of purpose and moral unambiguity. They make me look like the good leader which I am. But, I also like low-cost efficiency, and a ban may or may not belong to this category of counter-measures."

  "No doubt an efficient ban would solve our problems," Aram said.

  Cellie eyed Aram, uncertain how to interpret his words. "I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic or just naive. An effective ban is rarely efficient in terms of cost. If we suppress the supply, demand might go up, and that can even be counter-effective in the longer term."

  Aram smiled. "It's been a while since anyone called me naive. I'll attribute it to my youthful charm and take it as a compliment."

  Cellie rolled her eyes.

  "Look at the other cons," Theodore said. "A ban sends a strong message, but the idiots guzzling demon blood are not likely to listen to reason, now are they? We would polarize our clansmen on the issue and weaken our own leadership position - we have enough enemies as it is."

  "You're advocating something other than an 'iron fist' approach? I never thought I'd live to see the day!" Aram exclaimed.

  "Don't insult my intelligence. While we're at it cut the flippancy too, will you? At this rate we'll never finish. Why don't you suggest a viable solution for a change?"

  It took a few seconds for Aram's face to change to serious. "Very well. How about this? At the core of the problem is our lack of information: we don't know what effects the blood of various demons have, either in the short or the long term. If we had more information, we would know if a ban is necessary and within what limits. If it is, with popular opinion on our side, we'd have better success enforcing the ban. Even the polarizing effect wouldn't be entirely unwelcome, since it would serve to cull the weakest from our ranks."

  Aram looked to Cellie, and then he looked to Theodore. "My suggestion is that we focus on research and resource gathering, and schedule another meeting, say, six months from now. We can discuss a more extensive solution then."

  Cellie waited for Theodore to reply first.

  He stroked his beard and took his time. "What you said makes sense for a change... We do need more information before committing to a long-term solution."

  "I guess it's a question of 'how', then," Cellie said. "Who knows, we might even find ways to improve blood quality or preservation methods. Do any of you have the means for such extensive research?"

  Aram shook his head.

  "No," Theodore said.

  "Perhaps we can get creative," Cellie said. "One of my specialists, Merryn, is helping the zombies at the Oakheart facility with their exorcism troubles. They have the resources we need, and my specialist has a tentatively amicable relationship with them. I propose we approach with an offer of formal alliance."

  "Not a bad idea," Theodore shrugged. "They're probably researching the effects of demon blood already. At what cost, though? What are we prepared to offer in return?"

  "The brains of our fallen enemies? They always want brains for that Serum of theirs. Grunts for protection, perhaps?" Cellie asked.

  Aram's lips soured. "I'm not comfortable with that. We can always trade the brains at market value, and I don't have muscle to spare."

  "Test subjects?" Theodore suggested. "We ship the heavy junkies for experimentation?"

  Cellie's initially horrified expression faded as her mind rationalized the necessities. "Hmm... if we want proper research, we will need vampire test subjects, both healthy and beyond saving. We'll have to offer compensation to volunteers."

  Aram put his palms on the table and raised himself slightly. "I propose a tax!"

  Cellie heaved a sigh. "Don't we have enough taxes?"

  "No, you misunderstand. Instead of banning demon blood, we should tax import by a percentage of the goods! Say, forty percent? Part of it could go to research, part of it as payment to Oakheart, and part of it as compensation to volunteers."

  "Quite a fountain of insight, aren't you?" Theodore remarked dryly. "I disagree with the last part: we can't offer demon blood as compensation for volunteering. It would taint the testing pool and send a mixed message. We'll have to use regular blood for that."

  Cellie looked to Aram, then to Theodore. "Are we in agreement on the subject of demon blood? We tax demon blood import and propose an alliance to Oakheart?"

  "Aye."

  "Aye."

  The whistling wind changed to a higher pitch, and whipped the snow falling outside into a minor snowstorm.

  "Excellent. Issue resolved, for now." Cellie scribbled something on a paper, stacked the pages in front of her, and handed them off to her aide behind her. "Next on the agenda is..."

  Cherish your friends, for they are part of you and you are part of them.

  - Dreamer's Handbook

  Elise welcomed the rising sun. She liked the mild pain of sunlight on her skin - a prickling sensation. The deterioration of damaged tissue wasn't rapid enough to overcome her regenerative ability.

  It's a nice view.

  Tall buildings overgrown with vegetation sprawled as far as the eye could see. The rays of the sun penetrated the life below, altering the way it breathed: hidden dangers and possibilities of the night became an overtness which nurtured steady growth.

  Looking down, the height was just right for a hideout. Twelve floors put enough distance against the animals and monsters below - and demon blood junkies, lately - but the location was innocuous enough not to attract vampires seeking a good vantage point.

  Wh
en the prickling excitement faded down to annoyance, Elise stepped away from the opening in the wall and walked to the table stacked with books, tools and technological gadgets.

  Most vampires disliked the annoying uselessness of day; they spent a third of it sleeping and the remainder in restlessness and irritation. Elise didn't mind, since she kept herself busy by reading tech manuals and reexamining previously scouted locations. Her innate infravision was good enough for orientation and avoiding danger, but not good enough for inspecting the minutiae of ancient devices.

  Maybe I'll actually find something of value soon.

  Tools made of sturdy metals able to withstand vampire strength were in-demand - especially those repurposable as weapons - and could be bartered for human blood or other items. Chemicals and medical supplies were also worth scavenging for. Yet, it was the techno-gadgets which held Elise's attention and moved her imagination.

  Vampire caravans occasionally visited known zombie facilities for trade. They circulated a bounty list, detailing which facility was willing to pay how much for what thing in which condition. Many items on the list were bulky machines requiring well-coordinated groups for recovery and transport. Some of these mythic items were worth enough to guarantee a lifetime supply of blood - or an equivalent value in Serum. To cater to demonic entities, contractually binding amounts of worship - alternatively, the number of humans turned over - were offered as bounties for relics high up on the list.

  Ancient comm devices were Elise's favorite things to scavenge for: they were small, with shiny surfaces, and came in many colors and shapes. None of the old texts say how to make them work. Can you imagine life with tech-enabling magic always on by default? Crazy. She liked the way they fit in her hand, and hoped to have just as many friends one day as shiny devices in her collection. Yeah, right.

  The shush of stealthy steps - an awareness more than a sound - interrupted her reverie. It came from the direction of the stairway. Connor! It's gotta be him!