The Blood War: A Backstory
By Cypress Burger
The sky turns blood-red. The clouds darken. Chaos ensues. The once peaceful, sleepy town of –ville is lit up by torches set ablaze bobbing up and down as mobs of people march down the streets. Oh, it’s quite terrible! People are out for blood.
On the streets of –ville, lies a young girl, all alone. She can’t be more than eighteen years of age. Through all the chaos happening around her, no one pays any mind to the young girl in tattered rags screaming in pain as she labors through what is usually seen as the miracle of life. But she doesn’t see it that way. She has just escaped from her lover. A man she had been with for a little less than a year. Someone who had been lying to her about who he was–what he was. Through the pain, she thought about how she wouldn’t have minded loving a vampyre, if only he had been truthful with her from the beginning. If only she hadn’t gotten pregnant. If only she could see past his late-night expeditions. If only she didn’t know he was preying on those like this bloodied lifeform she now held in her arms.
Blood. Human blood dripping from her baby’s body onto her own clothes and the ground. She and her baby reeked of human blood!
The scent draws in a slightly older man, much like her former love. She hugs her new-born tightly to her chest as he closes in around her. Braced for death, she can do no more than let out a small whimper–too weak and too afraid to do anything else. The man squats down nearby the girl, and a small brass pocket watch hanging from his vest lightly brushes against her sweaty cheek, making her shiver from its cool touch.
“You look like someone in need of a good meal, miss,” the man says, noting how thin and frail the young girl looks.
Noticing her discomfort, he continues, “I’m not here to hurt you, miss. I’m with the Willow House. Having yourself an Impure One, you must know of it. We take in and educate those that have Impure Ones or are Impure Ones themselves. We believe that people should have the choice of vampyrism.”
The young girl, at this time, lets out her breath and opens her eyes. She looks up, and, though this man has long, white, and shining fangs, she sees no malice in his face. Not a trace of deception or vampiric hunger.
“What is your name, miss?” the man asks.
“My name is Carmen,” the young girl stammers out, voice hoarse from screaming so much in the past hours.
“Well, Miss Carmen, Willow House would be happy to provide you with a place to stay. Of course, if you don’t need it or prefer something else, you are welcome to decline the invitation. If, however, you would like me to go with you back to your home, I would need a similar invitation extended to me.”
“Are you truly with Willow House? I’ve heard of them, but never knew they were run by a Pure One.”
“Oh,! You flatter me! But you are right. Willow House is not headed by a Pure One. I am merely a volunteer to the cause, and my!–I’ve only just realized I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Ambrose McAlister.”
“It’s true that I have nowhere to go, and I can tell you are being genuine in your offer, but I’m afraid I must decline. I was just on my way out of town to get away from my less-friendly-than-you Pure One former love. He didn’t want a child, unless it was one he and his Pure One wife had together. He feeds on Impure Ones, like ours–which is exactly why I didn’t want a child with him, either! But now that I see this little one’s face, I can’t leave her. I need to protect her, and I can’t do that anywhere near –ville.”
“I may work with Willow House occasionally, but, truthfully, I live far from here in a manor out in the forest outside of –ville,” Ambrose says.
“You are part of the Farrah nobility?” Carmen asks.
“No. They are human,” he says slowly.
“The father, Lord Renn, yes, but his wife and daughters. They are vampyres, with his wife being a Pure One, herself.”
“Ive never heard such a thing being true about the Farrah family. Come,” Ambrose says, holding out his hand to help Carmen stand. “Once we reach my home and are safe—and you have the strength to talk at length—you can tell me all you know.”
Carmen finishes up the grand dinner that Ambrose had his servants provide for them. With some servants cleaning up the dirtied dishes and one taking care to feed and soothe Carmen’s newborn child in the corner of the exquisitely decorated dining room near the wall-length fireplace, Ambrose lightly clears his throat.
“If it should please you and is not too taxing on your body, I would like to hear what you know of the Farrahs that I do not.”
“I know only what I’ve overheard my former-love and his friends have said. He—I have come to know—is part of a radical group of vampyres intent on wiping out all Impure Ones and humans with relations with vampyres that have emerged in recent years within —vile,” Carmen says, eyeing the servant with her child.
Ambrose claps his hands together once, and the young woman hurriedly skips over with the child and leaves the room so it’s just Ambrose, Carmen, and her child there in the dining room with all the art on the walls and sculptures displayed on smaller tables.
“There. Now you can have no fear of speaking freely,” Ambrose says, “and in any case, my servants know of the current climate and what to do should they encounter a vampyre not as tolerant as I.”
“Are they all human?” Carmen asks.
“Yes, but I have shown them that they needn’t fear me. As you’ve seen, I eat like a living mortal, and if I am in absolute need of blood, I get it from Willow House medical patients who give small quantities willingly. But enough about that—” Ambrose waves his hand in the air as if brushing away a thought. “—we’ve gotten off topic. The Farrah family?”
Carmen’s face reddens as she says apologetically, “Of course! I surmise you know the cause of the uproar earlier this evening as being a result of recent sentiments about vampyres and humans coexisting in —ville reverting to those of years past—” Ambrose nods. “—but I take it, you don’t know the real catalyst or who was, in fact, behind it all.”
“You mean the Farrahs are behind this?”
“One in particular, Lady Diana Farrah, who only recently started showing signs of vampyrism. From what I’ve heard, this has caused her much anguish because now she finally understands why her twin sister and mother have been locked up in some unknown crevice in the castle for the past twenty-some years; she’s only just found out that her mother and twin are vampyres. A Pure One and Impure One, respectively.”
“But that doesn’t explain your love—former-lover—” Ambrose corrects himself when he sees Carmen’s frown. “For sake of clarity, could you please tell me his name? That way, if I know him, or at the very least his name, I could do well to protect you from him if he ever comes looking for you and your child?”
“I do not know surname, but his first name is Ivan—Mr. McAlister, what is the matter?” Carmen inquires in reference to Ambrose’s sudden change in demeanor.
For he had gone whiter than a ghost. Is it possible for a complexion already so white from having no blood flow and life to become even paler?
“You-you said he’s a radical, right? And that he preys on Impure Ones?”” Ambrose stammers.
“Yes, I did indeed. What of it?”
Like he did moments ago, Ambrose waves the thought away and attempts to change the subject. “Do you know anything else about the Farrah’s and their role in this uprising?”
“I do, but I would like to know if you think I am in any immediate danger. You owe me that much for telling you this information.”
Ambrose sighs. “You are quite right, my dear. I fear the man you have just described is that of my older brother, Ivan McAlister. He and I had a terrible falling out after our youngest brother was staked through the heart a few years back. He and I—as you can obviously tell—have very different views on vampyrism and we each blamed the other for our brother’s death.”
“That’s awful! I cannot imagine the pain you must have gone through,” Carmen raises a hand to her face to prevent herself from crying.
“Yes, it was quite a tragedy, but I have had my time to grieve. I believe we have more pressing matters at hand. The fact that you had only just escaped my monstrous brother and that I was the one to find you can’t be coincidence.”
“What do you mean? You mean to say it’s fate?” Carmen asks.
“Fate, God’s will, destiny? No. But I do think you and your child are in more danger than you realize. And every moment you spend with me will only put you in more danger—I wish I could explain now, but you must leave now. Take your child and run!” Ambrose’s teeth seemed to grow in length and his eyes flashed a violent red, much like that of the sky earlier that day.
The rosiness in her face and strength she had gained from eating her first meal in days all at once evaporates from Carmen’s body. She had never expected a man such as Ambrose to get so serious and angry at her so quickly. Now she can see the resemblance between Ivan and Ambrose. The only other time a man showed that amount of anger towards her was when she was with Ivan. She is reminded of the way his eyes would flash and fangs would grow when she did something he didn’t like, such as telling him that she was pregnant. Carmen’s cheek starts to sting just at the memory of Ivan’s outbursts.
”Carmen, I told you to run!” Ambrose hisses at her again, pulling her out of the past.
She regains her composure just enough to realize what is happening and with her child in her arms, she quickly stands up from the dining table, runs out into the corridor of Ambrose’s manor and makes her way outside to flee into the forest.
Though it is late into the night, it is still as light outside as if it were day. The sky remains a bright, blood-red color while the moon shines dimmer than usual and appears obscured behind black clouds. With sweat beading down her face and her child pulled in tight to her chest, Carmen runs as fast as she can through the forest. Not looking back. Not caring that her whole body aches from giving birth not too long ago. The fear of seeing Ambrose look so much like Ivan, the man she once loved, and fear of encountering him again coursing through her veins makes it so she is able to push through the pain and not stop until suddenly she comes across a tall iron fence with its gate left ajar. Carmen pushes it open wide enough that she can pass through and follows the gravel path in front of her.
After a few minutes, she comes across a pair of giant double doors each with a metal knocker in the center. The design of these knockers were lines that appear woven together with no end or beginning. Carmen takes the lower part of one knocker in her hand and taps it against the door. Each knock makes a sharp metallic note as the metal meets the wood for the briefest of seconds.
Carmen repeats this motion a few times. She lets the metal handle fall from her fingers as she gingerly reaches for the handle of one of the doors. It’s unlocked. She pushes open the door. As it scrapes against the polished floor, she sees two grand grey stone staircases–one going up and the other down–emerge in front of her, and it finally clicks in her mind.
She has somehow made her way to the Farrahs’ castle.
She starts to go in, but feels her new-born child slip from her fingers, as if it has hit a wall it cannot pass through yet somehow Carmen can.
Before the child fully leaves her grasp, she is able to restore her hold on it. Her child safe in her arms once again, she sighs in relief. Though that relief is short-lived.
Not too far off in the distance, Carmen hears the howls of wolves. One howl she is able to recognize out of the rest. A deep, guttural, goose-bump inducing howl ahead of the other, more lamenting howls, sends a shiver down Carmen’s body.
Ivan McAlister.
Once again, Carmen, holding her Impure One child in her arms, takes a few steps away from the castle doors to gain momentum, and runs headfirst towards the threshold of the castle doorway.
She makes it inside. But she is empty-handed.
All at once the exhaustion and the trauma of the day floods through her body, and she is unable to make herself turn around and grab her baby and run away farther into the castle grounds.
Time seems to stand still.
Everything is quiet.
Until it’s not.
She turns around.
With a loud snarl the big grey wolf she knows to be Ivan McAlister opens his jowls and his face descends towards his own Impure One newborn daughter.
Carmen lets out a blood-curdling scream as the sound of shattering bones echo throughout the open air. All she sees is red.
Red of her baby’s blood staining the surrounding area. The dirt ground, the stone bricks, the wooden doors, her clothing, Ivan’s fur.
Red of Ivan’s eyes gleaming maliciously.
Red of the night sky that was an omen for all the bad to come.
Red, hot, fiery, anger and hatred.
A similar red of repugnance shines in the eyes of Ambrose McAlister as he staggers into view. Carmen now sees that both he and the wolf in front of her have long gashes in various parts across their bodies and are bleeding. They must have fought before catching up to her.
A woman rushing out from behind her, brushes past Carmen.
“What have you done?” she screams.
Ivan, still as a wolf, stands on his hind legs as his body slowly morphs back into a human form.
“Lady Diana,” he says with blood still dripping from his jaws, “it isn’t safe for a woman such as yourself to be out, especially now considering it’s night and someone of your delicate nature might–”
Lady Diana hisses at him. Much like Ambrose did earlier at Carmen when he called forth his vampyric powers.
And it occurs to her. If she were to be bitten…If she allowed that venom to flow through her veins and get absorbed by her blood…If she were a Pure One, she wouldn’t have to worry. No more being on the losing side of this civil war on blood and species.
“Bite me, ” Carmen says weakly.
Ivan and Lady Diana turn to her as if noticing her for the first time.
“Turn me. I want to be a vampyre,” she says again. This time her voice is firm.
“Are you sure?” Lady Diana asks, voice full of gentle concern.
“Yes.” Carmen stands up straight.
Lady Diana, standing in between Carmen and Ivan, takes Carmen’s shoulders and gently tilts her head to one side and bites down on her neck.
“No!” Ivan and Ambrose howl.
Ambrose, forgetting about his bad leg, rushes forward. Ivan pushes Lady Diana away from Carmen and to the ground. In a swoon, Carmen also collapses to the ground.
“You filthy whore,” Ivan says to Lady Diana, “I wanted to be her sire!”
“Which is exactly why I did it.” Lady Diana brushes off her skirt and stands up to face Ivan. “She doesn’t need yet another thing for a man to hold over her. I know of you, Ivan McAlister. Preying on human women, getting them pregnant to fulfill a perverted fetish of yours to feed on your own hybrid-children. You and others of your kind are part of the reason I started this war.”
“So it’s all true then?” Ambrose asks, approaching them. “You really are an Impure One?”
Lady Diana flinches as if struck on her face. “I prefer the term, ‘hybrid-one,’ but yes. My father was human, my mother vampyre. How did you know?”
“Carmen,” Ambrose says, indicating the woman fainted on the ground, “she somehow knew your family’s secret.” Wanting to protect Carmen, he purposefully leaves out the details of how she overheard this fact from Ivan.
“Strange that a human would know that, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I am the last of the Farrah family, and Carmen is the first of my Blood Family. She will carry on the Farrah bloodline in my name.”
“What do y–” Ambrose starts to say as Lady Diana takes out from a pocket a piece of wood, carefully carved to a point on one end, and drives it into her own chest. She falls to the ground before turning to dust.
Carmen stirs as she gains consciousness. She can’t recall why she is on the ground or how she got there. Or why she suddenly feels stronger than she ever remembers feeling in her life.
“Miss Carmen,” Ambrose exclaims as he reaches out a hand to help her up, but she just swats it aside and stands up on her own.
“I know what I must do,” she says in an airy voice, so different from the one both McAlister brothers have come to know.
She bends over and picks up the bloody stake Lady Diana had just used on herself and stabs Ivan through the heart. Ambrose’s eyes widen in disbelief and fear.
“No hybrid-child should have to live in fear of humans or Pure Ones,” she says as her eyes flash a blood red.