Blood Covenant

The world has been overrun. Vampires are the new dominant race. Julia Hanover's little brother has been severely injured and there is only one thing that will save him: vampire blood.

Talk about a compromising situation.

Julia's little brother is the only family she has left and she will do anything to save him, even if it means making a deal with one of the very same ungodly creatures that killed her parents and ruined her life.

But when things don't go according to plan, will Julia make it back to her brother alive?

*Chapter One of this story is an entry for The 'Coldest Girl in Coldtown' competition*


2. The Reawakening


I didn’t expect to wake up, but I did.


It’s very surreal coming to terms with your own final demise only to reawaken days later. My first thought was: is this Heaven? But I realised with a shudder that it couldn’t be. Heaven would never be this dark, this gloomy, or this… funereal. A horrifying thought struck me then: is this Hell? It certainly seemed likely. Darkness shrouded my vision; every sound seemed to echo through the tunnels of my mind like a vicious roaring in my ears. I can’t be in Hell, I remember thinking, I’m a good person! I worked hard at school! I took care of my brother after my parents’ death- Oh my God, my parents! Will I never see them? What if they’re in Heaven somewhere waiting for me? What about my brother? He can’t cope on his own! Countless new fears crowded my mind, each and every one ruthlessly battling it out for my attention. I needed to prioritize, stop panicking and figure out what I was going to do, but I just couldn’t. I was dead. I was actually dead.


I lay still for a few minutes, still unable to see in the darkness and too afraid to move. In the distance I could hear voices, and somehow I knew without a doubt that they were coming from exactly two hundred feet away. How? I didn’t know, and it was really freaking me out. I wondered then if I was going to have some kind of panic attack – could dead people have panic attacks? I could feel my mind racing, my thoughts swirling, my stomach churning, yet my pulse did not quicken, my heart did not pound and no sweat dripped from my brow. The facts just didn’t add up – there I’d been, weak and trembling, ready to be eaten, and then BAM! A dark and endless abyss filled with the sounds of distant mutterings, and the feel of fingers poking and prodding at me as they lifted me up and rather callously carried me away. I’d assumed at the time that it must’ve been angels, or heathens, or some other form of otherworldly creature come to carry me away to the afterlife; however I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to wake up from death.


I drifted in and out of sleep; plagued by the kind of horrific nightmares that usually would have left me gasping for air, temperature soaring, but each time I woke up I felt nothing, only the cold presence of a looming darkness in the back of my mind, like scar tissue around an open wound. I soon became aware of a growing hunger in the pit of my stomach, growing and spreading like a forest fire until it had consumed me completely. Forgetting my fear I cried out in agony. Never had hunger hurt so much. I felt more than just hungry - I felt hollow, as though every last drop of moisture in my body had been bled dry. Then again I suppose I had just been drained by ravenous newby vampires.


Was this what death was? Had my parents experienced this? Surely this torture couldn’t last for eternity, there had to be something more than this, didn’t there? The pain had become unbearable now, as though my body had become so desperate for nourishment it had resorted to devouring itself from the inside out. I wanted to cry, to weep the way I had when I’d first seen those foul creatures advancing on me, but I just couldn't make the tears come. I was an empty shell, like that hollowed out Burger King in Waterloo Station, and it wouldn’t be long until my neon lights flickered out too.


Then, out of nowhere, as the pain soared and I was sure my body was about to begin crumbling to ash, I felt a cool hand on my forehead. For a few seconds I calmed myself, keeping my eyes closed, clinging to the feel of that touch like some kind of anchor to reality – Earth may suck but it sure beat this meaningless torture. A voice whispered close to my left ear, “Ssh, I know it hurts but you’ve got to calm down or it will never end.” Was it possible, another human? I could’ve wept with joy if I could still cry. “That’s right,” the voice comforted me. I recognized it as male but it was certainly no one I knew. “If you want to survive the transition you have to calm yourself down. If you let the pain consume you the venom will rot in your veins and your suffering will only be worse.” Survive? Transition? What, did God like to test candidates before allowing them into Heaven? See how much pain they could withstand before granting them eternal peace? That seemed pretty messed up to me. I needed to talk to this guy, figure out what was going on, but I couldn’t make the words come. “Where… where…”

“Ssh! Don’t try to talk, but that’s a good sign. You’re thinking straight, your brain is recovering.” Recovering? I’d been drained by vampires, not hit by a train! Unless the creatures of the night had suddenly developed a taste for human brains I certainly didn’t expect my mind to need any ‘recovering’. I decided right then and there that I didn’t care what this guy said, if I wanted to talk I was going to talk, and if he had a problem with that well screw him. “Am I… am I dead?” That one short sentence sapped up my energy like a carton of juice. Not only could I no longer find the energy to continue speaking, but I could no longer scream. A dark chuckle from the corner of the room turned an ounce of my anguish to fury – like I said, I had a pride problem; I didn’t like to be laughed at. “Shut up Tony, don’t piss her off or she’ll try talking more.” The nice man snapped.
“Maybe that would be a good thing,” the man called Tony asked. I assumed he was the one who’d laughed. “Talking seems to be helping her think straight.” I hated to admit it, but I agreed with Tony. I wanted to talk, talking seemed to me like the obvious first step towards getting up and moving around again. “We can’t risk her damaging any nerves or vocal receptors, not while she’s still in transition, she’s too fragile.”

“Oh come on, Noah! It’s been three days, I’m pretty sure the worst is over.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why do you care?”

“Who says I do?”
“You kind of implied it.”

“Shut up, Tony.” The bickering ended there, leading me to assume that whoever this Noah guy was, he was in charge. For a few more seconds there was no sound, only the comforting feel of Noah’s cold, smooth hand caressing my forehead, lulling me to sleep until Tony interrupted once again. I felt a strong hand grip my leg, shaking me the way a petulant child might shake their parents awake on Christmas Morning. “Hey, lady! Wake up! This is boring! At least the screaming was entertaining!” He laughed as he spoke that last phrase, joking about my agony as though the sight of me writhing in pain on a cold, hard, metallic table in front of him were greatly amusing.  I heard the sound of a harsh smack as Noah batted Tony’s hand away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Speeding things up.” I felt his hand grasp my ankle once again, his grip firmer now, holding my ankle tightly and slamming it repeatedly against the hard tabletop on which I lay. “Come on whatever your name is! We haven’t got all day!” I heard Noah move to defend me but I didn’t need him to save me, not this time. All my fear, anxiety, hunger and suffering had at last brewed together to form a deep rage in the pitiless cauldron of my heart, and this sudden pulse of fury filled me with new life, like a freshly charged battery. Tony lifted my leg again and with a grunt I yanked it from his grip before swiftly slamming it back down again, crushing his hand under the heal of my boot. He didn’t yelp or cry out as I’d expected him too, in fact he responded with no more than a simple, “Hey!” Almost as though he’d felt no pain at all. “No fair!” He growled through his teeth, “I didn’t know she was awake!” I could hear the smirk in Noah’s voice as he replied, “I think it’s time you learnt to pick your battles a little more carefully, Tony. This one’s got bite.” He hadn’t apologized, but I could hear Tony’s footsteps retreating back to the safety of his corner. I imagined him crying, sucking on his fingers like the pathetic child he was, even though in reality he had shown next to no reaction. “Whatever. She’ll have even more bite when she gets up.” Something about what he’d said just then troubled me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. There was a dark amusement behind Tony’s mocking tone and something about it unnerved me greatly. After a brief pause Noah finally continued, the smirk gone out of his voice, “Hit the lights Tony, it’s time our new friend woke up.”


I’d accepted by this point that I was not dead. Miraculously I had survived, and though I had no idea how, I was grateful. I started thinking then about how I would find my brother again - we’d arranged a meet-up point in case we ever got split up but would he remember where it was and how to find it? Yes, of course he would, we’d buried mum and dad there, he would never forget his own parents’ final resting place, would he? It wasn’t until much later that I realised the pain had more or less subsided – the hunger had dulled to a throbbing ache in the pit of my stomach and I could finally feel my limbs again. I heard the quiet ‘click’ as Tony turned the lights on before a blinding glow flooded my mind, scalding my eyeballs and scattering my thoughts. “Aaaargh!” I roared, my back arcing in pain. Now that I could feel my limbs I was able to notice things I hadn’t noticed before, like how my wrists had been strapped to the table. Infuriated by this act of inhumanity and distrust, I shook my head vigorously, rolling left and right as much as my constraints would allow, howling in pain. “Turn them off!” I cried, each word enunciated as though it were its own sentence loaded with hatred and pent-up rage, “Let me out!” Again, Tony chuckled from the corner of the room, angering me further. It took my all my energy to stop myself from crying again – well, dry-crying at least – but gradually I managed to pry my eyes open, allowing myself ample time to adjust before pushing my lids any further. Pulling against my restraints, I hefted myself up just enough so that I could see Tony standing slouched and apparently rather relaxed in the far left-hand corner of the room. The first thing I noticed was how shockingly pale he was – the second was that he was very, very bald. His nose was wide and well set and his eyes were small and squinty. What intrigued me the most though was the colour of his eyes - something seemed off about them, something almost… unnatural. “You find this funny, baldy?” I asked mockingly, inroducing him to my midlle finger. I’d just woken up and already I’d made a new enemy. The bald young man seemed surprised by my attitude and actually took a step further back into his corner. Noticing this, he hastily covered up by hissing in reply, “What did you just call me?” his voice heavy with the threat of his words. His intense, menacing gaze was almost enough to unsettle me, but still I stood my ground. “What? You deaf too? You’d think hearing would be easy enough for a guy with no hair - I mean, it’s not like you got anything to get in the way of those massive ears of yours or anything. Like surround sound.” I’ll admit I was quite proud of my little chain of insults. I may not have been the smartest girl on the block but when it came to a war of words I had the sharpest tongue south of Heaven. HOwever, Tony looked far from amused as his thug-like features contorted into a dark scowl, “You better watch your mouth little missy or I swear I’ll…”
“Enough!” Noah commanded his friend; at least, I assumed they were friends. Perhaps they were just more refugees looking for help, lost amongst the crumbling skyscrapers and monster-ridden streets of a city once named London. I must’ve looked pretty torn up - how much damage had the vampires done before they’d finally decided to give up? In fact, more importantly, why had they given up? Had Tony and Noah saved me? That seemed highly unlikely. Those two clowns seemed about as closely coordinated as a pair of severed hands. I turned slightly to the left to watch Noah step forward. The back of his head was still to me so I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell from behind as he reprimanded his psychotic buddy that he was a pretty well-toned guy. His hair was dark, and it was hard to see in the dim light of the damp, cold room but his skin also looked pretty pale - almost translucent. It was only then that realization finally hit.


Two weirdly pale guys with strange, unnaturally colored eyes holding a girl hostage in some kind of dank, dark prison? It couldn’t be a coincidence.


These two were vampires.


I felt my jaw drop but quickly clamped it shut again. I wasn’t dead yet, I could get out of this, I had to make it back to my brother. A few questions still floated around like lost balloons inside my head: why had they waited until I was awake? Did they plan to torture me or something? I felt my stomach do a somersault, my heart lurching up into my throat. I’d escaped the frying pan and landed myself right in the heart of the fire. Gulping, I forced myself to find the courage to speak, “Who are you?” I inquired tentatively. I wasn’t sure whether it would be best to play dumb or appear strong; my head was spinning too much to concentrate. I need assurance, confirmation that my assumptions had been correct, I needed one of them to turn around or step out of the darkness and show me their eyes – apparently Noah was happy to oblige. He didn’t speak as he turned, almost as though he knew the sight would be a more than sufficient answer to my question, and by God was he right. I was ashamed to notice how handsome he was and probably would’ve slapped myself if my hands hadn’t still been chained down. His skin was just as pale and without inflection as I’d thought even though he couldn’t have been more than eighteen, and I could tell by the tense set of his jaw and the harrowing look in his eyes that he wasn’t best pleased by my apparent disgust.


One more thing I should probably point out is that his eyes - those sorrowful, shameful eyes that seemed to stare so deep into my soul – were red. Bright red.


Vampire red.


 I will not scream, I promised myself as I screamed, before promptly realizing that it was too late and clamping my mouth shut. My hand reflexively jolted upwards to reach for my jaw but of course I was still restrained. I knew I couldn’t get off the table without tipping the thing over on myself, so I settled for shuffling as far away from the monster as I could without falling off. Noah closed his eyes, sighing as though exasperated or tired, like he did this everyday and received the same reaction every time. In the corner Tony began his childish snickering once again, apparently quite satisfied with my pathetically girlish response, “Not so tough now are ya?” Any other day I would have snapped back at him. In any other situation I would have been infuriated. But this wasn’t any other situation; I was in a vampire lair. Coming to terms with the fact that you are dead is one thing, but coming to terms with the sudden realization that your prolonged and most likely very painful death is now imminent is something else entirely. I didn’t want to die, not when I’d just woken up. I was alive again at last and I wasn’t about to let that go. “I’m sorry,” Noah told me. He seemed sincere enough. “I know this is sort of a hard thing to."

“That's life. Or death I suppose.” Tony supplemented from the corner. Death I suppose? Was he trying to be funny? What kind of sick, twisted, convoluted joke was that? “Excuse me?” I snapped back contemptuously, “Was that supposed to be funny? Because it really wasn’t.” The young vampire shrugged, “Guess so, I’m just trying to keep things light.” It was then as I sat, chained to a table, staring down at that bloodsucking monster that I remembered just how much I really hated vampires, and how frustrated I’d been with the rest of the world for being so easily scared and for giving up so quickly. When had I become such a hypocrite? I felt my old, fiery attitude spark once again within and figured I may as well make use of it while I could. “Light? I’m about to die, and you’re trying to keep things light?” I looked to Noah for support - I don’t why, he just seemed to be on my side - but he just stood there like some kind of broody statue, staring down at the floor and shaking his head like this was all so hard for him. “Technically,” Tony’s voice piped up again from the corner, “you’re already dead.”
I winced in confusion, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?” Noah slowly lifted his head as though dreading having to finally look me in the eye. His voice carried great weight, and I could hear how much he had been hoping to avoid having to tell me this. “I’m afraid Tony here’s right - you are already dead, and so are we.”

“Excuse me? No we’re not. I’m here talking to you and you’re talking to…”


It hit me then like a ton of bricks.


Sensing I’d come to he conclusion he’d been expecting, Noah continued, speaking the words I’d hoped and prayed I’d never have to hear in my life. “We’re all dead, in fact we’re undead. You’re a vampire Julia, just like us.” I felt bile rise up in my throat and thought I was going to be sick, then I remembered vampires couldn’t be sick and felt the urge to puke even more. “But- but I…”

“Yeah, we’ve heard it all before, you may as well shut your trap. You’re a monster now, Julia,” Tony teased, shooting me a sly wink, “Just like the rest of us evil bastards.”

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...