Bride of Blood:: First Kiss (3 page)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Still on that night, a stranger was eyeing an even more evil character who would be his next victim.
 
This was a monster much more dangerous than himself or Shannon’s boyfriend.
 
Anton was able to read his thoughts, as he did all mortals with which he came into contact.
 
It was the only way he could determine who amongst them were the worst of the worst and deserved to die.
 
Mortals would always think things that they usually never would say out loud, giving away their evil hearts and intentions.
 
Most mortals were good people, but there were still too many who did harm to those around them.
 
Those were the ones that Anton and others of his clan selected as victims.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
For months, there had been a series of unsolved murders along Interstate 35.
 
Prostitutes and female hitchhikers were being found dead on the side of the highway or in rest areas.
 
While authorities had no idea who the killer was, they suspected that the killer must be a transient or a trucker.
 
The press dubbed him The Interstate Killer, and he was sitting not fifty feet away from Anton.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He looked like the average truck driver:
 
large, with a beard and bad body odor.
 
However, his mind kept racing as he stared intently at Shannon.
 
Anton knew that the killer was thinking about how he could snatch Shannon, rape her, and then kill her.
 
He kept telling himself that he would get away with it, as long as he was careful.
 
It would be the perfect crime and she would be the best of his collection.
 
He would occasionally glance over at Anton, and his thoughts would return to something else.
 
It was almost as if he knew that his thoughts were being listened to.
 
No, he wasn’t smart enough to figure that out.
 
Anton had yet to meet any mortal who knew they were being hunted.
 
The man’s obsession with Shannon was occupying his every thought.
 
Anton was able to also see flashes of the other women and girls that he had killed over the years.
 
Here was a piece of shit that had to be killed, Anton told himself.
 
If given the chance and the right circumstances, he would have killed her it if Anton had not been there.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The current owner of The Truckstop was a cheapskate.
 
He refused to install cameras or hire security.
 
He figured that nothing could possibly happen in a small town, even though they were just off the interstate.
 
It made hunting easy for Anton, but unsafe for Shannon and the rest of the waitresses.
 
What would happened to them if Anton ever moved on?

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The killer whose name was Carl Solis, subject of a long and violent rap sheet. He got up from his seat and prepared to go out to his rig to sleep for a few hours.
 
His plan was to return later and snatch Shannon as she made her way to her car in the morning. Not exactly the best plan, but Anton was going to ruin it.
 
Solis had started to get sloppy with the last few kills.
 
He’d left victims in rest areas and along the sides of the highway where they were sure to be spotted.
 
It was almost if he was asking to be caught.
 
Anton would be the one to catch him.
 
And there wouldn’t be a trial, a judge, or a lawyer, just an executioner.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
A few minutes after Solis got up, Anton followed him.
 
They walked past the restrooms, the fuel desk, and out the front doors into the night.
 
A steady snow had started to fall again, adding to the already high piles. Seasons in this part of the Midwest were always extremes.
 
Winter was nothing but snow and cold, and lots of it.
 
Summer was hot with lots of humidity.
 
This winter had been extra rough, with snow drifts almost as tall as houses.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Solis walked almost halfway to his truck when he felt that someone was following him.
 
He turned around and saw the guy from inside.
 
Anton’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail and was wearing a long, dark trench coat with a white and black scarf.
 
He was staring at Solis and was smiling.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anton listened around for any signs of life.
 
There were none.
 
It was now or never.
 
No witnesses.
 
No one was going to miss this sick bastard.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“What are you looking at, you…” before he could get the rest of the words out, Anton ran at him in the blink of an eye, and pinned him against his own semi.
 
Anton covered the killer’s mouth and said, “Your life of murder ends tonight, you son of a bitch! You looked at the wrong waitress.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Before he could respond, Anton buried his fangs into the man’s neck.
 
He struggled but was no match for Anton who held him with the strength of ten men.
 
Solis’s stench filled Anton’s ultra-sensitive nostrils and made his eyes water, but he drank on.
 
Since his diet consisted of truck stop and junk food his blood wasn’t appetizing but it was blood nonetheless.
 
It was not necessary for a vampire totally drain a mortal of blood to be nourished, but Anton wanted this one dead.
 
He knew that Carl’s death meant that he would save several innocent lives, so he wasn’t bothered.
 
Whether he killed him or not it didn’t mean that Solis would become a vampire.
 
Just getting bitten or even drained by a vampire did not mean a mortal would become one, too. That was one of the many things Hollywood got wrong.
 
 
It was a long and arduous process to make a new vampire.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Soon he stopped squirming and Anton could feel the last drops of the blood on his tongue.
 
The heart stopped beating, so Anton let the corpse fall into the freshly fallen snow without a sound.
 
Anton sat on the ground next to the corpse and let The Rush come. -Whenever vampires first feed, a great head-rush hits them as the newly acquired blood circulates through their bodies.
 
Anton’s body shook and his eyes rolled back in his head.
 
A great warmth came over him as The Rush passed.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anton stood up, his head felt a little woozy from the unhealthy blood.
 
He shook the cobwebs out and listened again.
 
Still, no sounds except for the falling snow.
 
So he picked up the corpse and carried it over to the large dumpster.
 
He lifted the lid and threw it in.
 
Then he quickly buried it under the other trash.
 
He smoothed himself off and closed the lid.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He looked back at the killer’s semi.
 
He knew that there was a sort of kill-room in the back part of the cab itself.
 
Eventually his company would track the missing semi here.
 
The police or the FBI would search it and be able to connect Solis to the murders, thanks to DNA evidence.
 
He wouldn’t be missed, although they would wonder what happened to him.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anton brushed the snow off and lit a cigarette.
 
He didn’t need to smoke as nicotine had no hold on his body.
 
He had picked up the habit in the 50’s and again in the 90’s when everyone seemed to be doing it.
 
Besides the smell of smoke would cover up any smell of garbage.
 
He puffed on it and stared out across the parking lot.
 
It was really almost dead that night.
 
There were only two or three semis there and those guys were still in the restaurant.
 
Anton thought about Shannon again.
 
It saddened him that he was unable to help her or take her away from her current situation.
 
Maybe she didn’t want to be rescued.
 
Some abused people never are able to find the strength to leave.
 
He’d seen it over and over again.
 
Still, there was a chance that someday she would find the strength.
 
He decided to put it out of his mind.
 
He reminded himself that he couldn’t save everyone.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
After finishing the cigarette he walked back into the restaurant and returned to the seat.
 
Shannon quickly refilled his coffee and sat at the table next to him with her own cup.
 
She looked tired, but somewhat cheerful.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She reached out and touched Anton’s hand.
 
This time it was strangely warm as it usually was cold even with the coffee cup in it.
 
She stared into his eyes and smiled at him.
 
He returned her gaze and wished that he could take her home with him.
 
Although vampires could not reproduce sexually, they could have sex.
 
And Anton really wanted to have sex with her at that very moment.