Blood Queen

They pull me into a back alley behind a liquor store and push my back up against a cinderblock wall. I try to scream and fight but my captors seem immensely strong and my struggles amount to nothing. I can’t see anything in the darkness except for vague silhouettes. My eyes squint to count them. I find five shadows at least. Five, I might be able to escape one or two but I don’t have a prayer now. This sends my terror into overdrive, my breath is too short and the sound of my own muffled screaming fills my ears.

“Shut up.” growls a man’s voice from less than two feet away. At first I don’t obey, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone will hear me and come to help. Then I feel something thin and cold pressing under my chin. A knife. My heart beats even faster and my knees threaten to fold but I stop screaming.

“There we go pretty girl. That’s better now.” Sniggers the man who I assume is holding the knife. A disgusted shudder runs down my back and I shrink back into the wall, pressing as far away as I can. One of the men in the back fiddles with something for a second and then a matchstick blazes to life revealing a group of five men, all of different ethnicities and statures. My focus is mainly on the man holding the knife. He is a veritable giant, bleached blond hair falls to his burly shoulders and two silver fangs hang from each ear. He is dressed not in the typical gang clothes of the area, ratty hoodies and low-cut sweatpants, but in dark jeans and a white cutoff t-shirt. This is not a man who wants to go unnoticed or ignored.

the others are somewhat stouter, dressed mostly in black or gray clothing. They all wear identical cruel smiles. Of course, I take all this information in instantly, what I’m really focusing on is trying to figure out how to escape; But there’s nothing, I’m surrounded. His eyes dart up and down my body, he doesn’t even try to hide it.
“So what are we going to do with her once she’s dead?” Asks a dark-skinned man to my left.
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Answers his stocky blond companion, clearly the leader of the little gang.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” I try to bluff, a scared, obvious bluff. He looks amused and grins widely at me. There is something strange about that smile and a jolt of terror courses through me when I realize what it is. His canine teeth are elongating, growing into inch-long fangs. I can’t help it, I scream.

“Please! Stay away from me!” They all laugh at this and the leader mimics me in a high pitched voice.

“Ohhhh. Please! Stay away from me! Hilarious.” Then his eyes grow hungry. He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. This has to be the worst possible way to die. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel his breath on my neck, waiting for the bite. It doesn’t come. A dull thud registers in my ears and the hands holding me up against the wall fall away. I slide down the wall choking on my own breaths.

I don’t want to open my eyes, if I do there is sure to be some new horror awaiting me. I’m not wrong. Someone grabs my arm and wrenches me up away from the wall, pinning me to their chest. The sharp point of the knife digs into my throat.

“I know who you are. So this must be her huh?” I recognize the voice of the tall thug who’s holding me but I don’t understand any of the rest beyond the individual words. What’s going on? I force myself to open my eyes. The match has gone out but I can still just barely see four figures sprawled out on the floor amidst the garbage and broken bricks. An oddly familiar silhouette appears to be facing us (that is me and the beast that is holding me up) from about six feet away. Whoever it is that owns that silhouette is standing in a fighting stance, feet apart and arms up.

“If you know who I am than you must realize that you only get one chance to put her down and walk away.” It’s the same deep voice from earlier, the one I heard whispering to me just before I was attacked. Focus I tell myself; I don’t know whether he’s a friend or an enemy but for the moment I have to assume the latter. My main priority right now is to get away from this beast who has me at knifepoint. Quickly, I do the only thing I’m able, which is to stamp on his foot as hard as I can and thrust my head back into his nose. He swears loudly and then his hold on me tightens, compressing my chest to the point where I can’t breathe and the knife is pressed even harder into my throat so that it actually slices a shallow cut in my skin. The silhouette literally hisses and as they do so the moonlight reflects off something white. A long, sharp fang. Oh god, he’s another vampire.

“Oh, I’ll put her down alright.” Says my assailant, his words heavy with dreadful implication. “It looks to me like I have every advantage, so if you don’t back off I’ll rip her throat open, and vampire blood doesn’t work on dead bodies.” I need to breathe. Not soon, now. If not now then never. I clutch at the arm around my chest but to no avail.
“Very well.” Says the figure, resigned. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Before I can react, before I can even think, the vampire restraining me has been pulled away. The knife skids under a dumpster a few feet to the right of me. I didn’t even see him move…

I fall to the ground, my first breath comes back up in coughs and sputters but soon I can breathe again. There’s something wrong with my eyes as I look up at the two vampires fighting, an inky blackness that eats away at the edges of my vision. They move impossibly fast and there’s next to no light but even so it’s clear that my original attacker is losing badly. I can still make out the blond thug’s clothes but from my position on the ground I can’t see anything more than a shadow of the other vampire, which puzzles me until I realize that he is dressed in all black. Ducking under a punch he seizes a sharp piece of broken crate off the ground and drives it through his opponent’s heart. I expect to see blood or watch him fall to the ground like me but instead there is a flash of light and the only thing left in place of my attacker are floating ashes, slowly being carried off by an LA wind. The last thing my exhausted mind registers is the sound of the wooden shard falling to the floor and the feeling of someone picking me up off the cracked cement.

Notes

Here's the real question. Is the figure who just essentially kidnapped her a friend, or a foe? Hmmmm. Guess you'll just have to wait for the next chapter. :)

Thank you to anyone who has read, rated, or commented on this story or my other story "The Wild Ones" It means the world to me when I log on every day and read a new comment or see another vote. You guys truly are the highlight of my day and I hope my stories brighten yours a little too.
Never give up; -BVBfangirlqueen