CHAPTER TWO:
SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA
OCTOBER 26, 1995:10:57 PM
It is nearly eleven when I pull to a stop outside of Saint Packie’s Bar in Santa Barbara. On this particular evening, I feel like doing some vigilante justice, if my sources are correct, which of course they will be, my victim will be inside the bar searching for his latest victim. Such irony, I think to myself. He will soon die in one of the most horrible ways imaginable, although this is only my plan A. If any problems proceed, there are always better ways of dispatching my victims. I show my ID to the security officer, and he allows me to enter the bar. Being a vampire, I have the ability to appear to be twenty one or any age at will, so this is not a problem. As I enter the bar, I scan it for my target. I immediately spot him chatting up a pretty young blonde girl on the opposite side of the bar. She appears to be college aged, and apparently has no idea who she is really chatting with. The only reason I know is that my contacts in the Santa Barbara Police Department have leaked the information to me. I smile, despite their whole “the law is the law” pledge, the local authorities are surprisingly corrupt. They know how I operate, and yet they have no way of tracking me, because when I meet the officers on the streets, I use my hypnotic powers to temporarily petrify them so that I can look through their files on who they are tracking at that time. Stuff like robbery or grand theft auto, I don’t pay much attention too. But the murderer’s and such who only walk free because they have friends in high places… I don’t know. There’s something about that that just riles my nerves to the point of fury. Take tonight’s lucky victim for example. He’s a serial murderer who has killed at least six women in the Santa Barbara area. He only walks free because of the lack of evidence. He’s been questioned of course, but all the “evidence” is cleaned up by his half brother, who just happens to be in Congress, and instructs higher ranking officials in the SBPD to “play dumb” to his brother’s activities, so that there won’t be a scandal. He blackmails them with proof of their own corruption. The one thing I hate more than anything is killing for the fun of it, which is what my target does. The fact that he walks free because of corruption only makes me want to kill him more. True, I will enjoy it, but there is another reason to take into account. I have not fed on blood for weeks. I always try to hold off on it as long as I can, and yet, I still need it to survive. I take a seat at the bar in a position I can keep an eye on my victim, who is still chatting with the blonde from earlier. I order a cocktail and sip it. Alcohol has little to no affect on me. I could easily drink a hundred Irishmen under the table, and yet, I am fond of the taste of it. I watch my victim as he continues his conversation. He buys her a drink,
but he himself only orders a Coke. I watch them for a little while longer until the girl is obviously drunk. He offers to give her a ride, and she accepts. As they walk out of the bar, I follow at a discreet distance behind them. The man takes her to his car, and opens the door for her. Such a gentleman, I think sarcastically. I climb into my car, and follow them once more at a discreet distance. After awhile, he takes her to one of the piers on the coast. I park a ways behind, and watch as he forces the poor girl out of the car. He tosses her to the ground and pulls out a knife. Immediately, I swoop into action and kick the knife out of his hand. I move so fast all he sees is a blur. The girl is still screaming when I rip into his neck. I hungrily drain his upper body of blood within minutes. He gasps for breath as I lay him down gently on the sand. “Please…” he begs. “Now you know what its like, don’t you?” Being seconds from death and lying in pain dying knowing there’s nothing you can do about it. That’s what all those women you killed felt before you took their lives away from them.” I see fear in his eyes, and feel no sympathy as I snap his neck. This I felt, was an act of mercy he didn’t deserve, as bleeding out is a much more painful demise in the long run. I turn to the girl, who is still crying from the horror she’s just seen. I place an anonymous call to the police, and keep an eye on her from a distance until they arrive. I return to my car, and drive back to my home in downtown Santa Barbara. I walk in the door and into the living room and turn on the TV before sitting on the couch. For some odd reason, I feel compelled to turn on the news, and when I do, I’m shocked at the headline story. It comes from my hometown of Crystal Falls. “In other news, the rapid sting of what the police are officially calling murders continues tonight here in Crystal Falls, California. Just minutes ago the body of sixteen year old Patricia Green was found dead in the principal’s office of Crystal Falls High School. This is the eleventh death with the M.O. of the killer that the police are officially naming “The Vampire” due to the M.O. of the victim’s blood being drained from their body. All the victims thus far are students ranging from the ages of fifteen and eighteen. And along with M.O. the victims share one other thing. A message left by the killer that reads “TLB:MFHB” as of now, the police are stumped at the meaning of this message, and are asking anyone with information on the murders to come forward, before the killer strikes again.” At this point I turn off the TV, because I now know who is responsible for the murders, whether directly or not. I decide right then and there I’m returning to Crystal Falls. Tonight. I pack up my things and toss them in the trunk of my car. I’ve already got an apartment rented out in the town, which I’ve always kept in case of a situation like this. After I finish loading up the trunk, I climb in the car and crank the ignition. It is a two hour drive from Santa Barbara to Crystal Falls, but I need not worry about speeding because with it being three in the morning, there is a severe lack of traffic. I know right then and there I may not be leaving town alive. But it is a chance I must take, for the sake of everyone who lives there.
SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA
OCTOBER 26, 1995:10:57 PM
It is nearly eleven when I pull to a stop outside of Saint Packie’s Bar in Santa Barbara. On this particular evening, I feel like doing some vigilante justice, if my sources are correct, which of course they will be, my victim will be inside the bar searching for his latest victim. Such irony, I think to myself. He will soon die in one of the most horrible ways imaginable, although this is only my plan A. If any problems proceed, there are always better ways of dispatching my victims. I show my ID to the security officer, and he allows me to enter the bar. Being a vampire, I have the ability to appear to be twenty one or any age at will, so this is not a problem. As I enter the bar, I scan it for my target. I immediately spot him chatting up a pretty young blonde girl on the opposite side of the bar. She appears to be college aged, and apparently has no idea who she is really chatting with. The only reason I know is that my contacts in the Santa Barbara Police Department have leaked the information to me. I smile, despite their whole “the law is the law” pledge, the local authorities are surprisingly corrupt. They know how I operate, and yet they have no way of tracking me, because when I meet the officers on the streets, I use my hypnotic powers to temporarily petrify them so that I can look through their files on who they are tracking at that time. Stuff like robbery or grand theft auto, I don’t pay much attention too. But the murderer’s and such who only walk free because they have friends in high places… I don’t know. There’s something about that that just riles my nerves to the point of fury. Take tonight’s lucky victim for example. He’s a serial murderer who has killed at least six women in the Santa Barbara area. He only walks free because of the lack of evidence. He’s been questioned of course, but all the “evidence” is cleaned up by his half brother, who just happens to be in Congress, and instructs higher ranking officials in the SBPD to “play dumb” to his brother’s activities, so that there won’t be a scandal. He blackmails them with proof of their own corruption. The one thing I hate more than anything is killing for the fun of it, which is what my target does. The fact that he walks free because of corruption only makes me want to kill him more. True, I will enjoy it, but there is another reason to take into account. I have not fed on blood for weeks. I always try to hold off on it as long as I can, and yet, I still need it to survive. I take a seat at the bar in a position I can keep an eye on my victim, who is still chatting with the blonde from earlier. I order a cocktail and sip it. Alcohol has little to no affect on me. I could easily drink a hundred Irishmen under the table, and yet, I am fond of the taste of it. I watch my victim as he continues his conversation. He buys her a drink,
but he himself only orders a Coke. I watch them for a little while longer until the girl is obviously drunk. He offers to give her a ride, and she accepts. As they walk out of the bar, I follow at a discreet distance behind them. The man takes her to his car, and opens the door for her. Such a gentleman, I think sarcastically. I climb into my car, and follow them once more at a discreet distance. After awhile, he takes her to one of the piers on the coast. I park a ways behind, and watch as he forces the poor girl out of the car. He tosses her to the ground and pulls out a knife. Immediately, I swoop into action and kick the knife out of his hand. I move so fast all he sees is a blur. The girl is still screaming when I rip into his neck. I hungrily drain his upper body of blood within minutes. He gasps for breath as I lay him down gently on the sand. “Please…” he begs. “Now you know what its like, don’t you?” Being seconds from death and lying in pain dying knowing there’s nothing you can do about it. That’s what all those women you killed felt before you took their lives away from them.” I see fear in his eyes, and feel no sympathy as I snap his neck. This I felt, was an act of mercy he didn’t deserve, as bleeding out is a much more painful demise in the long run. I turn to the girl, who is still crying from the horror she’s just seen. I place an anonymous call to the police, and keep an eye on her from a distance until they arrive. I return to my car, and drive back to my home in downtown Santa Barbara. I walk in the door and into the living room and turn on the TV before sitting on the couch. For some odd reason, I feel compelled to turn on the news, and when I do, I’m shocked at the headline story. It comes from my hometown of Crystal Falls. “In other news, the rapid sting of what the police are officially calling murders continues tonight here in Crystal Falls, California. Just minutes ago the body of sixteen year old Patricia Green was found dead in the principal’s office of Crystal Falls High School. This is the eleventh death with the M.O. of the killer that the police are officially naming “The Vampire” due to the M.O. of the victim’s blood being drained from their body. All the victims thus far are students ranging from the ages of fifteen and eighteen. And along with M.O. the victims share one other thing. A message left by the killer that reads “TLB:MFHB” as of now, the police are stumped at the meaning of this message, and are asking anyone with information on the murders to come forward, before the killer strikes again.” At this point I turn off the TV, because I now know who is responsible for the murders, whether directly or not. I decide right then and there I’m returning to Crystal Falls. Tonight. I pack up my things and toss them in the trunk of my car. I’ve already got an apartment rented out in the town, which I’ve always kept in case of a situation like this. After I finish loading up the trunk, I climb in the car and crank the ignition. It is a two hour drive from Santa Barbara to Crystal Falls, but I need not worry about speeding because with it being three in the morning, there is a severe lack of traffic. I know right then and there I may not be leaving town alive. But it is a chance I must take, for the sake of everyone who lives there.
With this new story, I wanna write a horror story.
It's called Imaginary:
Sierra, a young six year old from Ocean Gate, New Jersey, dies from a car accident and a broken skull. Meanwhile, Molly, from Bayville, gets a new friend. Her name is Sierra.
As Molly's parents notice their daughter acting strange, they start to worry. She always asks to set the table for an extra person, and she always talks to herself in her room.
Sierra is being fueled by something that's in their house, and she's feeding supernaturally off of Molly's body, and strange things start to happen in the house.
Anonymous laughing, horrifying screams, eerie whispering, problems with the power, and worse. Molly gets weaker.
On this supernatural journey, Molly's parents will try to fight something that's beyond them, whatever it takes to save their daughter's life.
In loving memory of Sierra, a childhood friend. I still miss you, and I know your brother does, too!
It's called Imaginary:
Sierra, a young six year old from Ocean Gate, New Jersey, dies from a car accident and a broken skull. Meanwhile, Molly, from Bayville, gets a new friend. Her name is Sierra.
As Molly's parents notice their daughter acting strange, they start to worry. She always asks to set the table for an extra person, and she always talks to herself in her room.
Sierra is being fueled by something that's in their house, and she's feeding supernaturally off of Molly's body, and strange things start to happen in the house.
Anonymous laughing, horrifying screams, eerie whispering, problems with the power, and worse. Molly gets weaker.
On this supernatural journey, Molly's parents will try to fight something that's beyond them, whatever it takes to save their daughter's life.
In loving memory of Sierra, a childhood friend. I still miss you, and I know your brother does, too!