for 400yearsofsurvival

[curiousnotmalicious]

It had only been months since Dutch had started hunting vampires, but somehow it was starting to feel like her calling in life. A handful of iffy clues had led her to the house in the quiet suburban neighborhood, but judging by the blacked out windows she was looking at Dutch was all but certain she’d found the vampire she’d been looking for. She parked her car about a block away and walked in the daylight, certain her target would be sleeping, to the front door. Crossing her metaphorical fingers, Dutch only hoped that none of the neighbors would snoop or ask questions as to why there was a suspicious woman picking a lock on one of their picturesque houses. Luckily, she managed to get inside.

Her arsenal of weapons was pretty bare compared to what she was used to carrying with her. Dutch only toted her sword and a gun. She figured she would make short work of the Las Vegas vampire. There was only one of him. No need for grenades or other fancy weapons like the ones her mentor back home created in his spare time. Those were meant for nests. She’d behead this one and be on her merry way with another win under her belt.

As Dutch crept through the house, she practically held her breath. Setrakian, the old man who had taught her everything she knew about vampires, would have emphasized that silence was key when walking through a nest of sleeping vampires. Dutch always took his words to heart. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword tightly, but she kept it low at her side. Her gun was tucked into the back of her jeans. Wherever he was, she was ready for him.

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[400yearsofsurvival]

Jerry was too old to sleep easily. He had far too much that needed to be done to waste the day unconscious. He had a nest to rebuild. These things took careful planning, a lot of time, and a great deal of physical labor. Labor that was visible all over the house. The entire place looked like it was still being built, or perhaps being torn down. He was either just moving in or just moving out, the house half set up for habitation. Set up with far too many blind corners and alcoves. The basement was his main focus of late, cold musty air wafting up through a cracked door. It smelled far more of damp earth than even an old basement should. Concrete half torn up, exposing the dirt and foundation.

Hew as well aware of Dutch before she ever approached the house. Hunters always thought they could find the upper hand. Their problem was they were always far too obvious. Didn't they realize he could hear them, even in the light of day, as they watched his house? So he was ready for her. Silent in his domain. Always out of sight, but never far away.

In fact, she passed right beneath him as she neared that basement door. A narrow, dark hall leading to the door. No stairs beyond meant whoever went in couldn't get out. But that's not where he intended for her to go. He savored the moment, watching her cautious steps, listening to the frantic beat of her heart. Then ever so slowly, he uncurled from his hiding space, dropping silent as a ghost behind her. At the same time, one hand curled around the lower half of her face, and the other around the wrist that held the sword.

"You didn't really think a simple blade could kill me, did you?" He said softly against her ear.

[curiousnotmalicious]

Dutch had gotten much too used to hunting the Strigoi in New York City. She knew their habits like the back of her hand and she’d come to accept their ways as the ways of all vampires. Unfortunately, now she was finding out the hard way that it was simply not true. Her eyes went wide as Jerry’s hand covered her face. She would have stabbed him right in the gut if he hadn’t also gotten ahold of her sword hand. This one talked, too, like the few sentient vampires that served the Master in New York City. Like Eichorst. Dutch only hoped that was the only way he was similar to the Nazi vampire.

Her breathing quickened and she felt her heart pounding away in her chest. Thoughts came at a mile a minute as she tried to figure out her next move. He was probably stronger than her, quicker than her, and she couldn’t afford to waste any time. She needed to act right away. Dutch’s free hand went to her last hope, her .380 that she had tucked away in the back of her jeans, and she tried to fire it behind her. It was a blind shot, but she hoped to hit him.

Guns to the vampires back home were useless unless the shot hit the brain stem. The shots always caused some pain, maybe created a distraction, but they never did much. Dutch only wanted to help free herself. She was in over her head and now she knew it. Maybe if she could get away she’d return with a bigger arsenal, possibly with a few other hunters, but that all depended on whether or not she got away.

[400yearsofsurvival]

Being from a rather ancient line thought to be extinct, Jerry knew how to hide. There weren't many like him left in the world, and they all knew without ever speaking to each other, to let the world think they'd gone the way of legends and stories. The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. But Jerry had grown bored, disconnected, listless. His kind thrived in numbers, in a nest full of their own creations. But building such a thing always drew the hunters, those who knew what the patterns of disappearances meant. Like rats following bait right into the trap. At least this one was just his taste.

The bullets hit him square in the stomach. He jerked, but no more than if she'd elbowed him there. It tore through his shirt, spraying her back with blood. But he let out a small huff of a laugh, and let go of her wrist. Taking his sweet time, he simply reached down, letting his fingers transform into nasty claws, as he dug the bullet out. He made sure she could hear it, letting out a satisfied grunt in her ear as he finally plucked it free. He brought it around, holding up clawed and bloody fingers for her to see the spent bullet.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want to kill me." He dipped his head, his lips dragging over her throat. "But you haven't brought the right tools for that. Should've done your homework."

[curiousnotmalicious]

Seeing the bullet in Jerry’s hand made Dutch’s stomach lurch. She’d never seen a gunshot so utterly wasted. It might as well have not hit him at all. The despair must have shown clearly on her face. She was out of her element and might as well have been a lamb in a lion’s den. “You’re not sensitive to silver.” There was a tone of disbelief in her voice. Dutch had thought all vampires were sensitive to silver. She’d been counting on it. Her sword and bullets were all silver.

With his lips on her throat she shuddered. Her fate seemed pretty clear to her at the moment. “Get it over with and kill me.” Dutch snapped. That’s the fate that befell unwise hunters, wasn’t it? They wandered into vampires nests unprepared and never walked out. That’s what Setrakian had told her. Of course, the Master back in New York had intended to turn Setrakian. Dutch only doubted that Jerry had similar plans for her because their relationship was less personal. She hadn’t been stalking him for the length of time Setrakian had been stalking the Master. Surely Jerry would make a meal out of her and be done with it.

The longer she spent in this place the more nervous she became. Dutch found herself wishing she’d never tracked Jerry down to his home. There was a reason the phrase home court advantage existed. She should have been smarter. She felt like kicking herself. The only reason she didn’t was because she’d given up. Dutch had moved on to preparing herself for her death. Her eyes closed. She was waiting for that bite on her neck.

[400yearsofsurvival]

"Werewolves." Jerry corrected, hissing the word against her throat. In all of his time, he'd never taken the effort to get to know others like him out there. And certainly not their strengths or weaknesses. Different types kept to their own spaces and rarely crossed over. Besides, who needed to know specifics when he had the strength to tear their head from their very shoulders? Not much in the world could survive that.

He dropped the bullet, letting it bounce and skitter uselessly across the linoleum. His bloodied fingers moved up into Dutch's hair, leaving read smears in the blonde locks, claws dragging on her scalp. Seizing a handful, he dragged her head to the side, exposing more of that pale throat. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He could smell it on her. The fear and resignation. But she was so very wrong. This wasn't the end. It was a new beginning. His lips parted and he let his fangs scrape across her skin, not yet breaking it. Just savoring the feel of her frantic pulse beneath his tongue and teeth.

[curiousnotmalicious]

An almost involuntary whimper passed her lips and she hated herself the moment she let it slip. Dutch let her eyes close as she felt his fangs on her neck. He was so different from the vampires she’d fought before. They would have stung her by now, shot out their proboscis and sucked her dry. They ran on pure instinct, though. There seemed to be something more driving this one. It wasn’t mere hunger.

“Do it.” She ordered in a firm voice. Dutch wasn’t sure where she found the guts to command a vampire who had every advantage over her, but then again she had given up hope of getting out alive. She was as good as dead in that moment. Every second that he didn’t kill her was torture. It reminded her too much of the past, of certain other vampires who liked to play with their food. Old wounds that she’d thought had healed were being ripped open by this strange, unique vampire. The sooner he killed her the better.

Dutch’s breath came in frightened gasps. She didn’t know which one would be the last. Her tongue slipped out briefly to wet her lips. One hand traveled up to grab at his clawed one and she gritted her teeth.

“Kill me or let me go.” What had been meant to sound brave and determined came out sounding desperate and afraid. It felt like she was fighting a losing battle right then.

[400yearsofsurvival]

For a moment, he just breathed in that fear. It was practically mouth watering. It was a different aroma, different flavor for every single person. With her it was sharp and fierce, mingled with anger. Someone we knew and understood the fear, who had felt it before, who knew what it all meant. It focused it all, making it that much more acute. That much more alluring.

"You'll get neither..." he breathed against her ear, yanking her head hard to the side.

His fangs sank into to her throat. Suddenly, but not forcefully. There was a near gentleness to his bite, as if intentionally avoiding anything major. This meant he would not drink deeply, but rather sip slowly. Savoring every drop. He didn't want her to perish or turn any time soon.

[curiousnotmalicious]

“No!” It was one word, shouted out and filled with sadness and despair. If this one was anything like the ones she’d dealt with before, her fate was already sealed. Her eyes welled up with tears that never quite made it down her cheeks. Dutch wouldn’t let herself cry in front of him. It was the last thing she had to hold onto – her pride.

Having her blood drained was such an odd sensation. She could tell that he wasn’t drinking a lot, but she could still feel her life flowing out of her. It was terrifying. Dutch did all she could to keep from trembling.

“What are you going to do to me?” It was a question she’d asked before in a very similar situation, but now she was even more unsure about her fate. Of course he’d never intended to let her go, but if he wasn’t going to kill her then what was he going to do with her? Wondering about the possibilities made her feel sick to her stomach.