Chapter 3

Magdalena watched the young couple walking in front of her with minimal interest as she followed them down the lazy darkened street. It would be so easy to catch up with them and go unnoticed.  She hadn’t seen a car or another person for the last ten minutes.  All was quiet.

Even if she did succumb to temptation and partake in human blood, it wouldn’t change the fact that she couldn’t get her mind off Shen and me.  She was especially taken by me.  She found my sandy hair and facial structure strikingly handsome. Although both of us made every sense she possessed alive and alert, it was me who struck her the most.  Perhaps it was because of our touch.  She rarely touched humans, and for good reason.  It brought forth a part of her that she worked hard to suppress.

She was born a vympire in the earth year one-thousand-ten BC and saw quite a few changes in the vympire kingdom since then. Many of the changes were those of which she didn’t approve, but some were welcome changes that she was grateful for; like the fact that she could exist alongside humans with minimal difference.  She still needed blood for the mainstay of her survival, but she’d ceased drinking human blood centuries ago when the Committee offered her the choice to remain on a human blood diet or learn to suppress the urge and return to life of existing on the blood of nature’s creatures. Knowing the repercussions of a human blood diet, she went into a rehabilitation program to cleanse and realign her body. She now lived off the nectar of animals and fowl, along with grains and plants. 

Like a human who was a reformed drinker or smoker, the memories of the addiction stayed buried.  The only time they surfaced and she found herself drawn to hunting a human was when she happened to accidently touch our warm flesh, like she’d done that evening with me. The touch was electrifying and far more intense than she’d experienced; ever.  What could it mean?  It made her wonder who or what I was.

She’d heard rumors that a few mutant-vampires had escaped the massacre in Las Vegas and were setting up once again. Could we be of them? No, she thought not. Although she’d never come in contact with a mutant-vampire, my touch was far warmer than a mutant’s would be. She was certain of that. There was also the rich smell of delectable blood that permeated the pores of my skin.  Surely, a mutant didn’t smell so scrumptious, even if they did consume human blood -as well as their flesh- on a regular basis.  She decided that we were humans, but not normal humans.

Garth had sensed that something was amiss almost as soon as she walked away from my booth.  He’d even brought attention to himself by delaying his trip to take our order so he could sternly warn her to be careful.

Magdalena sighed.  She hated having to spend the majority of her waking hours under Garth’s watchful eye.  She found the situation incredibly irritating. When it really got to her, she’d pass the hours fantasizing about ripping his thick skull off his scrawny neck.  She was skilled enough to do it and seriously considered it, but it wouldn’t due to anger the all too powerful Committee.  He was doing their bidding, after all.

Focusing her thoughts on the Committee always helped her suppress the urge to return to her addiction.  The Committee was a core group of vympires much older than she. Some dated back to the originals that came from the planet Vympirus not long after the first humans came to inhabit the earth. In fact, the humans beat them for habitat dominance by mere centuries.  The Committee superseded all other vympire rule both on earth and on the various other planets they’d migrated to when Vympirus grew so over-crowded that it could no longer support its abundant population. Adventurous pioneers set out to migrate to select planets and set up colonies that would welcome the excess vympires.  Earth was one of these planets.

It was a small group of vympires that made up the Committee. There were no more than two dozen and the majority of them were the Original brave pioneers that left Vympirus voluntarily.  Others were descendants of vympires that migrated to earth after the planetary colonization proved successful.  Magdalena was a descendent of an Original, which put her in line for a seat on the Committee, providing she kept her addiction under control.

Vympires had always dined on the blood of animal and fowl.  When they arrived on earth, they did their best to coexist peacefully with man. Sadly, man wanted no part of the peace they offered.  They began hunting the vympires for food.  They were such a barbaric breed, they actually started to doing the same with their own kind.  The human’s abhorrent act of cannibalism caused many of the vympires to rise up and retaliate.  This resulted in the discovery of just how addictive the blood of a human was.  Although the rumor circulated by Committee claiming that human blood was poisonous and would kill a vympire eventually proved untrue, the blood did shift the vympire’s composition in various ways. The primary shift being the fact that their vympire abilities were rendered useless in the light of day.  This left them vulnerable to their human enemies. The blood also shortened their lifespan by a few centuries. So, even though the highly addictive blood of a human wasn’t poisonous, in its own roundabout way it did indeed kill.  Once addicted to human blood, it was rare a vympire return to a diet of animal or fowl, no matter what the consequences.  That didn’t stop many a curious young vympire from trying it out.

Magdalena recalled her early education about the turmoil that occurred during the vympires’s struggle to settle in on earth.  One of the originals, Dracul, had a very different idea of how they should be living.  When the Committee issued the edict that vympires must live hidden from man, he and a few followers rebelled.  In order to protect themselves from the long arm of the Committee, they shimmered into a dark dimension that was ruled by a fallen angel.  This angel offered them the protection they sought in exchange for their loyalty.  Dracul readily agreed and a new strain of vympire emerged.

To differentiate this new strain of vympires from the original vympires, they called themselves vampires. It was these vampires who gained the fame that caught the attention of story tellers who instilled the fear in children and adults.  This fear turned the tables and gave vampires the upper hand in many ways.

Even so, for some odd reason that neither the members of the Committee or the leaders of Vympirus could neither discover nor explain, even though the humans stopped hunting them for food and truly feared the vampire, they maintained their stronghold on earth.   This made it necessary for vympires to adjust accordingly if they were to avoid war, a possible necessary exodus, or even extinction.

Not only had vympires been successful in avoiding these things, their numbers had never been stronger. Many, like Magdalena, lived and commingled with the humans quite amiably while keeping their true identity a secret. There were others who hadn’t mastered this feat or preferred to separate their worlds as best they could.  It was these who chose to join Dracul’s army and hunt and feed on human blood.

Magdalena mused about the eventuality of her taking her seat on the Committee.  It would be centuries before a seat became empty after its owner expired. A vympire lived for approximately ten thousand earth years, give or take.  This seemed like an eternity to the inferior humans who were hardly capable of staying alive for a mere century. 

She spent her days living and commingling with humans and she enjoyed it fully. Would that end? She was living as a human and working in a diner as a hostess because it was one of the requirements set forth by the Committee in order to provide her with a greater understanding of the human species in preparation for when she took her place on the Committee.  Would they allow her to continue this lifestyle once she was seated? An original who could live amongst the humans, undetected, was a valuable asset to the vympire community.  There weren’t many who’d accomplished it to the degree that Magdalena had. It was something she enjoyed doing.  Surely the Committee would recognize this and not ask her to stop.

She knew that her ability to comingle with humans so well is what led to her latest assignment.  She was to observe and report back to the Committee on the dealings of a certain diner owner who the Committee believed was working for Dracul, but had yet to be able to prove it.  This, of course, required that she convince the owner to hire her and she play the part of a human while working there.

The Committee had no doubt that she could handle whatever may come her way from Dracul’s servant -if that was what the restaurant owner truly was- but, knowing her weakness and compassion for the human race, Garth was assigned to make certain Magdalena didn’t get wrapped up in any of the human drama that plagued our kind.  She was reputed to have a penchant for getting mixed up in situations that didn’t concern her.  Magdalena was expected to observe -only- while she mingled amongst us. Relationships that resembled friendship or more with a humans were strictly prohibited.

Garth, she shuddered at the thought of him. A disgusting, arrogant lycanthrope; yet another creature that humans managed to create misdirecting folklore about. 

At one time, the lycanthrope was to the vympire, like a dog was to a human.  They were brought to earth by the originals to be their ever faithful servant and companion. Unfortunately, as time progressed and the lycanthropes lived and mingled with other species on the planet, some of them went rogue.  These rogues refused to remain under the rule of the vympire.  Through the co-habiting with the powerful wolves of the wild, they’d managed to become far different than the original lycanthropes brought to earth by the vympire. Unlike the vympire, the lycanthrope didn’t split and alienate from their originals.  Instead, the entire mass followed the same path. Because of this, the majority of the lycanthrope kingdom considered themselves superior to the vympire; as well as their enemy. 

There were very few lycanthropes left who were willing to befriend and attest loyalty to a vympire without being forced into submission by captivity or ensorcelling.  Garth was one of these few.  This was mainly because his great, great, great, great, great grandmother was a vympire who commingled with a lycanthrope. Although it was possible, it was something that was strictly forbidden amongst both races. Most of her vympire traits were eventually bred out of Garth’s bloodline.   He was left only with the vympire’s ability to shimmer and ensorcell. 

Magdalena found it hard to believe Garth possessed one ounce of her precious vympire gene in his ugly body.  Yet, she was assured that his loyalty was due to the fact that he still had vympire relatives seated on the Committee and in government back on Vympirus -distant though we may be- which made him feel connected to them.

Although this connection was known to cause him grief and discomfort when the dominant lycanthrope side brought forth the memories of vympire hatred, Magdalena couldn’t deny his loyalty to her kind. 

His life must be a torture of the oddest sort, she thought with a sigh.  So many changes.  So much corruption and deterioration. Why?

She just didn’t understand.

Her father did his best to keep her sheltered from the evils that lurked amongst her own people.  Even so, she’d managed to discover a great deal of it either first hand, or by word of mouth.  Now that she’d reached the age that required she begin her education and preparation for her place next to the others of the Committee, she was rapidly being exposed to more and more shocking and unbelievable corruption.

In earlier years, it was only Dracula who occupied the stories told her by the elders.  She’d found the stories quite fascinating. The humans had managed to distort the story to the point that the truth of it had been buried deep within the myth. 

Dracula was the leader of the vampire lineage that was created by the rogue vympire leader, Dracul.  He started out as a kind a fair count amongst his people who was made vampire as a result of trying to protect his good friend Vlad the Impaler.  Vlad was a man who possessed a deep, dark side which he expressed by imposing incredible cruelty upon his enemy with little, if any, remorse.  He’d sometimes performed acts of cruelty that caused even Dracul to raise an eyebrow or two.  When Vlad was young, he made a deal with Dracul.  If Dracul would assist Vlad in saving his land he’d swear possession of his much coveted human soul to Dracul upon his death.  As the years progressed, Dracul quietly observed Vlad’s ever increasing evil ways of dealing with his enemies with great interest.  It seemed trading his soul to a vympire who’d morphed into a being of darkness somehow connected Vlad to that darkness.   When Vlad was thrown into prison after being severely wounded and captured by his enemies, his good friend the count -who was a general in Vlad’s army- traded places with him in hopes of saving Vlad’s life and eventually being rescued by Vlad once Vlad recovered.  When Dracul arrived at the dungeon to claim Vlad’s soul and found the general there in his stead, he was furious.  He accused the count of conspiring with Vlad to cheat him out of claiming his soul.  No matter what the count said, his pleas landed on deaf ears.  Dracul punished the count by turning him into a vampire.  To appease his vanity and twisted sense of humor, and because the general was a count already, he named him Count Dracula.  With the aid of a sorcerer, he made sure his vampire creation couldn’t be destroyed by humans. This added an extra measure of torture to the count who was now doomed to an eternity of living in darkness off the blood of his fellow man.

Dracula can still be killed by a vympire if they removed his head, or by a lycanthrope if torn to pieces and the heart eaten or by my bloodline if shot in the heart by a wooden stake, but he can never die a natural death such as that of a human or such as a vympire from Vympirus would one day experience. He’d never progress forward on the path of evolution like a human or a vympire from Vympirus.  Dracula was stuck as he was for eternity.

Magdalena recalled hearing whispers about the outrage the Committee felt at Dracul’s deed and how they mistrusted Dracula when he went to them for help in correcting what Dracul had done. The Committee was torn.  In truth, they had no idea how to undo Dracul’s dirty deed.  To add to this dilemma, the majority vote was to refuse assistance.  This was partly because they knew of no way to assist, but also because -with the exception of a few- they believed the count’s true identity to be that of Vlad the Impaler and disapproved of his life actions as a human. In their opinion, he deserved the trickery Dracul had handed him.

Dracula was outrage over the cruel fate he’d been dealt by Dracul and the Committee’s refusal of aid.  Being the product of the bloodline of a rogue vympire leader and a former warrior, Dracula had no difficulty setting up his own kingdom of vampires, with his own rules. 

Once the vampires were divided, Dracula’s kingdom was soon the largest and strongest. Not unlike humans, vampires harbored animosity and hatred for the differences in each other. Each believed the other to be inferior.

Magdalena thought about the variety of vampires that now walked the planet and the resentment and prejudice within the vampire realm that accompanied it. 

Truly, it must be similar to the way humans feel about their different races, she mused, for they also have the originals and then the rogues and their offspring.  This is the reason for the resentment for inter-racial breeding that’s so prevalent around the planet.  

Even though the different races of vampires followed different creeds and beliefs, each one held within its structure the core set of rules that came to earth from Vympirus so long ago.

Magdalena had heard that the den that was destroyed in Las Vegas was considered an abomination that was allowed to exist for too long not only by the Committee but by Count Dracula as well. Its existence was hidden from the Committee for quite some time.  Had they known about it earlier, they’d have sent an army to close it down.  Instead, the massacre that was brought forth by the Tugurlan vampire slayers did the job for them.

It was rumored that not all mutant-vampires perished during that slayer raid.  A small few had been sent in search of a place to expand their abominable race and thus were absent during the slaughter. The Committee was keeping a watch for them, but so far no word of their whereabouts or actions came forth. It was assumed their numbers were so few that they’d retreated to the shadows to go unnoticed by all.  Whatever the truth was, as long as they lay dormant, the Committee wouldn’t act.  For, as strange as it seemed to Magdalena, there were those amongst the vympire realm who actually supported the vampire right to individuality -even the cannibal abominations- and an assault upon them without due cause could result badly in the long run.  So, they watched and listened; for now.

The echo of her footsteps on the vacant street kept rhythm with the steps of the couple a half block in front of her.  It was just bad luck that they were walking the same route as she was.  Having had her senses stimulated at the diner, she found the nearness to these creatures on such an empty street just too unsettling.  She decided to cross the street and move to a parallel block.

As she stepped off the curb to avoid a large puddle than ran a good length of the block, her eyes caught the swift movement of someone in the shadows.  Her body tensed in anticipation.  She hadn’t identified who or what it was, but her instincts told her it was a predator and it wasn’t after her.

She turned toward the humans in time to see two dark figures sweep in front of them.  Stunned, the couple stopped abruptly before attempting to walk around their assailants.  Neither spoke as they stared warily into the fiery orange-red eyes of the predators.

Magdalena watched intently.  Her first instinct was to rescue the humans from what she assumed would be a painful and messy death. The glow of the orange-red eyes told her that these were rogue vampires of the worst sort.  In fact, they were a breed she’d never seen before.  They exhibited the eyes that identified them as descendants of Count Dracula, but they behaved in a manner that wasn’t conducive to one of such lineage.  Their long protruding fangs reminded her of mini walrus tusks, while saliva escaped the corners of their mouths as if they were rabid.

Although Dracula belonged to an unfortunate vympire lineage, he still managed to acquire and maintain the dignity that vympires took such pride and value in. Magdalena knew enough about the vampire to know that it would never drool like an animal over its meal in such a fashion.  Nor would its fangs be so large and dominant.  No, these two belonged to the mutant species she hadn’t yet encountered.  Were they offspring of the Las Vegas den?  The leader was Dracula’s bastard, after all.

She stepped back into the shadows to observe what was happening.  Her eyes searched the route she’d just traveled as she looked for signs of Garth.  She hoped he hadn’t decided to follow her. These mutants looked like they could care less who they attacked.

Although Garth was certainly capable of taking care of himself, until she knew exactly what kind of creatures they were up against, she didn’t want an altercation.

A blood curdling scream permeated the air as the woman was lifted off the ground with supernatural ease. Magdalena noticed that the mutant vampire holding her was levitating about a foot from the concrete sidewalk. She would have thought that the ingestion of human flesh and blood would have stripped them of such traits and wondered what other vampire skills the mutants possessed.

As if in response to her musing, the other mutant spun into the air with such speed that he disappeared before he stopped in mid-air and slowly lowered himself to the sidewalk. 

They’re playing with their food, she mused, How disgusting.

Her reaction to the mutant behavior was more powerful than she’d intended. She quickly discovered that one of them also had the gift of telepathy when he released his captive unceremoniously and cocked his head, while sniffing the air.  She perked her ears to hear their exchange of words and discovered that they were aware of another underworld being in their midst and this other being considered them disgusting.  She cursed herself for being so careless while she watched the mutant vampires push the humans aside and start in her direction.

Heaving a sigh of regret, Magdalena braced herself for what was to come.  She was grateful for her age and strength. One of the few core traits that all vympires maintained was the strength that came with age.  These mutant vampires were babies in comparison.  Her age gave her a definite advantage, even if it was two against one.  She also had training and natural cunning on her side. 

As they drew near, Magdalena stepped out of the shadows and stood boldly beneath the street lamp.

“What have we here?” the taller mutant growled.

The fact that Magdalena stepped back to avoid spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke didn’t go unnoticed, nor was it taken well. He growled and moved toward her threateningly.

“What is she?” the other asked with a genuine curiosity that caused his companion to stop and think.

“A cousin perhaps?” the tall one replied in a manner that didn’t disguise his mood.

After looking at her intently, the shorter one said, “I think not.  She looks too human.”

The tall one sniffed the air.

“She don’t smell human,” he said.

“No, she certainly does not,” the other replied.

There was an odd tone in his voice. Magdalena couldn’t decide if it was sarcasm or amusement.

“Is she edible?” the tall one asked, in a tone that was almost teasing.

“All creatures are edible,” the shorter one replied with a drawl that Magdalena recognized as deep south.

“True,” his companion said. “Very true.”

The shorter vampire looked back at the humans who stood huddled together as if to protect each other.

“So, now we decide,” he said with a voice that reeked of excitement. “Do we eat the humans, who we know are delectable, or this unknown creature that tastes like Dracul knows what.”

“Blood is blood, and flesh is flesh, is it not my vampire friends?” Magdalena cooed as she inched herself into a location that would provide her with the greatest advantage when it came time to fight.

“Ha! Ha!” roared the taller one. “She can’t be a vampire to say such a ridiculous thing!”

The shorter vampire cocked his head and tapped his chin.

“I agree,” he said as he lowered his hand and heaved a sigh, “You aren’t a werewolf, are you?” He sniffed the air, “No, you aren’t smelly enough.  In fact, you smell quite nice.”  Before she could respond he sniffed the air again and added, “Dear me, whatever could you be?”

“A fairy, or maybe a ghost?” the taller one volunteered.

Magdalena watched the couple run off.  She looked up and down the street for signs of life, but saw nothing.  They were alone.

“Now, will you look at that?” the taller one said with mock dismay, “Our meal has run away.  It seems we have no choice but to eat you now.”

With lightning speed, Magdalena twirled her body until she could no longer be seen.  Unlike the display the mutant vampire made, she became completely invisible. It was as if she’d never been there.  By the look on their bewildered faces, she could have probably left without them being able to track her, but that would have left these creeps free to roam the streets and terrorize, if not kill, more humans; not to mention multiply.  She just couldn’t abide the thought.

Still invisible, she reached for the tall vampire’s head and snapped his neck.  She pulled on his head until it popped away from his body.  Taken aback by the ease in which it occurred, she stumbled to the ground, thus becoming visible once more.

The smaller vampire stared in horror at his companion’s head that was still in her grasp.  He hoped to figure out a way to rejoin his buddy’s head to his body before she figured out that a stake was needed to be driven through his heart before he’d be completely lost to life; and then only if it was driven by a slayer of the Tugurlan lineage. He couldn’t imagine the mess they’d have on their hands if he tried to rejuvenate while she still had his head by his locks.

“You won’t get it back,” she said flatly.   She held the vampire severed head up in the air as she searched her pockets for a lighter. “Don’t try.”

“What... are... you?” the vampire roared with anguished disbelief.

 “I’m your worst nightmare,” she replied.

Disgusted that she hadn’t a lighter at her immediate disposal, she tossed the vampire’s head away and kicked the shorter vampire square in the jaw with such speed he wasn’t able to see it coming.

He stumbled back, completely stunned.

Shaking his head only briefly, he regained his composure with such surprising ease that, for a brief moment, Magdalena was taken aback. She quickly regained her stance and braced herself for his attack.

The battle between mutant-vampire and vympire echoed through the street.  Magdalena was amazed at the amount of strength her opponent possessed.  It was far greater than she’d expected, or than what should be for a creature so young.  Even so, she held her own.  She was grateful for her early education in the art of battle, which included jousting, fencing, and martial arts.  It was her martial arts skills that she pulled upon to best him.  She reached deep into her memory bank and pulled upon every martial art trick she could recall. 

It was working, but not without excessive effort on her part.

Since Magdalena hadn’t displayed her fangs during the battle, the mutant was still uncertain about her identity.

“What are you?” he asked with winded frustration just before he got lucky enough to get a good hold on her torso.

As he slammed her against a century old brick building, she felt a rib crack. The sound rang out into the night, encouraging him to summon a renewed strength as he wrapped his hands around the base of her head. Her senses reeled.  If she wasn’t careful she wouldn’t have to worry about him pulling her head off, one slip of her rib into her heart and she’d disappear into oblivion. She slammed her forearms into his chest and knocked the wind from his lungs just before spreading her arms wide and forcing his grip to release.

He was still struggling to regain his breath when she spun a kick into his stomach.  He doubled over in anguished surprise. Without a moment’s hesitation, Magdalena gripped his head with both hands and twisted it away from his body.  This time she was ready for the ease in which it popped off and maintained her stance.

She stood in silence with the mutant head still in her hands and covered in blood as she focused on regaining a steady breath.  The exertion of the fight had been far greater than she’d ever experienced in the past, plus her ribs hurt.  She’d heal soon enough, but, until then, the pain was great.

****

I watched Magdalena don her coat and hat and smiled.  She looked like she’d stepped out of a nineteen fifties magazine.

She’s a woman who’s secure in herself. I like that, I mused.

“What are you smiling at?” Shen asked as he craned his head to look in the same direction as I was looking. “Oh, our hostess. Why did I even ask?  It looks like her shift is over,” he proclaimed as he finished the last of his tea. “I suppose we will follow her?”

I chuckled as I stood up and tossed enough money on the table to cover the bill as well as a tip for our very strange server.

“You guessed right,” I chuckled.

“We better hurry,” Shen said as he watched Magdalena make her way down the diner entry steps and onto the street. “The lady has quite a gait on her.”

“Let’s go,” I said in an urgent tone. 

As we started to exit the diner, we were waylaid by the ever insistent Garth, who was determined that we present our bill to the cashier instead of leaving the money on the table.  Realizing we were fighting a losing battle, Shen quickly returned to the table to grab the money and the bill and do as Garth bid us to do. By the time we’d appeased Garth -who suddenly lost the speed he’d so readily displayed moments earlier- and made our way to the street, there was no sign of Magdalena.

I stomped my foot with disgust.

Sensing that there was more to my desire to follow the hostess than the fact that she was a beautiful woman, Shen closed his eyes and concentrated.  Allowing his body to relax, he pictured Magdalena walking out of the diner as he’d only recently witnessed and make her way down the street. Opening his eyes with satisfaction he started in the same direction he’d seen her go in his vision.

“So, now you’re a tracker?” I said incredulously.

“You do not have to follow,” he replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets, lowered his head as if looking for tracks, and continued on.

I scooted up next to him and matched his pace.

“No, no... I’m with ya buddy,” I chuckled, “You’re just full of surprises.  That’s all.”

He looked up at me and smiled.

“I guess I am,” he chuckled.

“Seriously,” I asked, “Where’d you learn that?”

“Dao Ming and I spent time with the old man in China.  I thought it might prove helpful,” he replied.

“Hell, yes!” I said as I gave him a friendly slap on the back.

We caught up with Magdalena just in time to witness her beating the tar out of a mutant-vampire while a headless body lay at her feet.  As we started forward to assist, we stopped short when she ripped her opponent’s head from his body.

“Whoa!” I whispered. “She’s some dame.”

“She is a vampire slayer?” Shen asked with surprised confusion.

“It looks that way,” I replied, “but if she’s a Tugurlan I’ll eat my hat.”   My eyes never left Magdalena. “We’d better warn her that pulling off the head isn’t a permanent death. Do we have something to use as a stake?”

Shen stretched up and pulled a slender branch down far enough to allow him to break a thin extension off.  He quickly stripped the tiny shoots of foliage from the narrow but sturdy shoot, snapped it in half, squared his shoulders and nodded in the direction of Magdalena.

Satisfied, I nodded my approval and followed suit.

Magdalena was so engrossed in the matter at hand that our approach went unnoticed.  It wasn’t until she heard the steady rhythm of my clapping as I walked up next to her that she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Very good, very good,” I bellowed as I moved swiftly up to the headless torsos and quickly drove our make-shift stakes first into one heart and then into the other.

Magdalena watched in sickened horror as the mutants dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind rumpled clothing and an extremely foul stench. She rubbed her nose absent mindedly.

“It is because they are cannibals,” Shen offered.

“These weren’t normal vampires,” I explained when Magdalena looked at us questioningly. “We’ve seen and killed both.  The normal ones don’t stink. These vampires eat human flesh.  That’s what you smell. It’s the rot of undigested human flesh.”

“That is completely intolerable!” Magdalena screeched.

She was unable to listen to anymore.  She was doing her best to move past the fact that these men admitted to being slayers, but couldn’t deal with the concept of rotten flesh remaining inside the bodies of a vampire; mutant or otherwise.

“I know, I know,” I added as I moved forward to offer my support by putting my arm around her. 

She jumped back and did her best to compose herself from the immediate urge to hunt that purged from deep within her. The sudden movement caused her damaged rib to undo the little healing that began.  She groaned her agony.  The pain in her chest was intense.

Oh, please don’t puncture my heart, she thought frantically.

“Don’t... touch...me,” she groaned.

“Are you okay?” Shen asked as he moved closer while keeping his hands in the air to show he wasn’t going to touch her.

“My rib... it’s bruised, I think,” she replied.

“You shouldn’t be moving around. That was a pretty intense fight. You might have a broken rib,” I said with concern. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

“I just need to get home,” she assured us. “I’ll be fine in a bit.  I just need to get home.”

Shen and I locked eyes. There was something not right about the scene before us, but neither of us could put our finger on it.

“Where do you live?” Shen asked.  “We will help you get home.”

“I can make it alone,” she said.

“No, you can’t,” I said with authority.

Magdalena looked from me to Shen and then back to me, as if she was trying to make a decision.  She finally nodded her head.

“I live a few blocks away,” she said softly.  “I think I’ll need your help to walk.  I was so focused on my rib that I didn’t notice my foot. It feels like it’s broken.”