The Vloodmir Vampires

AVAILABLE FOR KINDLE PURCHASE ON AMAZON // When a lust for equality and desire to break free from a tight autocratic structure forces itself into the hearts of the fed-up, hero's will rise. But when one large plan is altered by those on the side lines, who will fall and who will take the power from the Vloodmirs? But most of all, who will survive and who will die? Will secrets be leaked and will lovers become haters of one another?
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 121:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 220:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 317:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 421:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 517:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 624:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 714:00 min.
Vloodmir Vampires - Episode 818:00 min.


5. Chapter Two






It didn’t take long for Genevieve to figure out how to kill her husband (in fact, two days) and how much she'd get for his death. It was very well thought out, if Genevieve had to be honest with herself. She would wait until her husband was in deep thought with a job, eyes closed, senses cut off. But Genevieve never accounted for her daughter, her daughter whom she failed to locate. Genevieve knew where her daughter was every second of the day, but on that warm, mid September evening, Genevieve had a through plan. Of course, Genevieve knew her husband’s schedule like the back of her hand. She had to, she had to plan her lavish, selfish parties around her husband's work. Genevieve was lucky she had taken the time to walk around her husband’s little place of work before he bought it. She knew every little place, every little alcove and every little entrance and exit. You could say she was like Google - knowing everything, almost, but she didn't know where her daughter was; and that agitated her.

This was a beautiful plan. Beautiful in the way it would be executed and beautiful in how violent it was going to be. The blood would pool over the fashionable rug. It wasn’t expensive and it was a fake. It had been brought from Rhodes town many years ago and it shocked Genevieve that it was still in a good condition. She had made her way out of the house quietly, shutting the door, not even a click behind heard. But it wouldn’t’ve mattered if there was a sound, there was too much hell being raised in the streets for anyone to notice the simple sound of a door being locked. The hood of her cloak was thrown up, her eyes looking up and her gloved fingertips pulling some loose strands forward. The light glinted off her blonde hair. Her tight fitting leather coat hugged her slender body, the material keeping her body controlled. But Vampires didn’t sweat, she could’ve worn a sweater and jeans, and not broken a sweat. But that wasn’t Genevieve’s style. What she was currently in was something she would've worn after the war while they were hiding outside Vloodmir's walls.


The coat stopped at around her pelvis, the red fabric hung down from that, billowing around her knees, of course, the front of her was clear of any loose, long fabrics – she had to be able to run to escape the scene. Her jeans were tight and black, black never went out with fashion and went with anything, but it was her boots that finished the look. Calf high and dark brown leather, strong and sturdy. It was a drastic and dramatic change to her normal look, but it fitted the occasion and Genevieve still looked fabulous. She always did.


Turning out of the streets she gazed at the people as they walked by. She didn’t know everyone, but she could put a few names to faces and personalities to faces as well. Genevieve had heard snippets from conversations about people. Of course, she didn’t know the whole story, she never would, but after a little bit of digging and ‘gentle’ persuasion, she could get what she wanted and she found it easy now after doing it for a good 100 years. Walking down alleys draped in smoke and gentle music billowing out of windows she walked to the beat, hanging her head, turning her Morality off. It was a simple mind game, you walked to a wall, placed your hand on the wall and press down, when you heard the click you could zone back out into the real world and carry on as normal. But you had no sense of what was right or wrong. There was no sense of who was your friend or foe. You could alter how much Morality you wanted off, but for now, Genevieve had turned it all off. If anything, anyone got in her way, they would be obliterated, crushed, burnt. Walking out of the alley the brilliant rays of the sun glinted off the new puddles from the morning’s heavy rain. Walking halfway across the road she would turn sharply left and walked down the centre of the road, the silence deafening. Her heal slammed onto the road with every step that she took. With her Morality off, she was stronger, faster and better. But that didn’t matter, she was already fabulous. She was so full of pride it would be her downfall. She could feel the weight of the blade which was strapped to her thigh and she could feel the iciness of it even though the tough fabric. The hood was richly done and expensive, fitting around her slim head. Approaching the old building she threw the hood down, shaking her hair loose. Underneath the gloves she could feel the electricity pulsating in her blood. The plan was clear. She knew what to do. This had been building for weeks and within a couple of days, she would be rich. Joseph had no next of kin aside from Genevieve so she would get it all. She could move out of that terrible place - after a couple of parties and get a better home. 


She began her freerunning quickly and efficiently, making her muscles work when they weren't used to being worked and it killed her. Using the cracks in the bricks and bars she managed to haul herself up with almost no lactic acid weakening her muscles. She couldn’t be too tired otherwise she wouldn’t be able to send the high voltage she needed to. Joseph was tough, it would probably take all of her energy. And for her to run back in time to make her masked, low level party? It was a risk, but it was a risk she was willing to take to fulfill her selfish needs and desires. She wouldn’t be missed for long, she always took long to prepare. Her husband said it wasn’t needed and that she was beautiful enough already, but Genevieve wanted drama for her eyes, her lips to stand out and to chisel out her cheekbones. Landing on the wooden floor her boots made no sound, and she slowly pulled the leather gloves off her slim, slender fingers, stuffing them in her pocket. Clenching her fists her hands lightly buzzed with the surge of electricity. Walking across the wooden landing she rested her arms on the wooden beam, her hands dangling down. Sparks dashed from her nails and they gently fell to the floor. The customers below thought it was part of the act, part of his contact to the undead. Part of his decaying sanity. It was so beautiful to watch. It was such a masterpiece.


Calming herself down, her alert senses failed to notice her daughter creeping up behind her, knife at the ready. It was a blunt thing and it would probably do no good, but Genevieve’s eyes widened, saving her energy suddenly, hiding it deep. “Why are you here, you selfish brat?”

“To save my father.”

“Your father’s going to die anyway, you ignorant child. I’m giving him mercy.” Genevieve would hiss, swallowing, feeling the coldness of the knife against her throat. “This is a butter knife, you idiot.” Genevieve carried on, smiling.

“It’s the first thing I could grab from the house…don’t freaking judge me.” Evelyn replied in a mutter.

“I never said I was.” Was the simple reply, but before anyone could move, Joseph’s eyes snapped open, his senses coming back into play. He would notice his wife and daughter soon. And Genevieve would have to act fast. If she killed herself in the process at least she could taunt her husband in Hell and really push him to the edge. Sending her splayed palm down as far as it would go, the centre of it pushed towards Joseph, a lean bolt of electricity pushed its way through the air as fast as it could and slammed onto his back, causing Joseph to scream out in agony and collapse onto the table, his clients looking up and around in fear, the two girls hidden by the shadows. “You bitch!” Evelyn screamed, flicking her wrist towards her mother, who dived out of the way. Joseph had many mirrors in his room, meaning he could see if anyone came in. But for now, it rebounded off all of the glass. But Joseph saw it coming. Diving under the table he heard his clients run out of the door. He’d have to give them a refund, but he knew they would come back. But his clients were the least of his worries at the moment. He couldn’t have his daughter be killed by his own wife. He cared too much for them both.


Genevieve leapt down from the landing, slamming onto the table, Evelyn’s butter knife in hand. “This is a stupid knife, but it’ll do!” She snarled, grabbing the table edge and swinging herself under. Joseph moved out of the way at the last moment. Dashing out he ran over to the far wall, his collection of dreamcatchers blowing in the pleasant breeze which wafted in through the window. Looking on with fear as his daughter leapt from the landing, following her mother. Her eyes burned with electricity. Evelyn was going to snap. This wasn’t going to be different, it was going to be deadly. Her Morality was all she had left. If Joseph lived, he was going to lose his daughter to the Darkness and embrace her mother’s psychoticness. “I’m going to kill you!” She snarled, her fangs elongating, she showed no signs of pain. There was no remorse in was she was going to do. Evelyn would kill her mother without a second thought.

“As a matter of fact,” Genevieve smirked, an evil glint in her eye. “I thought I was going to kill your pathetic husband and you. Two birds with one stone.”

“You will not touch my father!”

“Evelyn.” Joseph called out, his voice tender and gentle. “I’m going to die anyway. If I die now-”

“I’ll have to live without you forever!” Evelyn screamed back, failing to notice the bolt of electricity as it hurtled towards Evelyn. Even Joseph wasn’t fast enough to help her. She was thrown back into the darkness and Genevieve pounced off after her, a feeble scream from Evelyn’s lips echoing around the building. Joseph wanted to go after her, but there was a chance he would be slaughtered, and he didn’t have a clue what was going on.


Scrambling around in the darkness, Evelyn was scared. She was grateful there was no light down here otherwise she would burn. The ‘sparkle’ in Twilight was them burning. But due to the lack of sun, they slowly burnt. But Twilight was fake and rubbish. Turning her Morality off would bring the world crashing down to Hell. Standing up, Evelyn calmed herself down, staying perfectly still. Genevieve had had a lot of practice in hunting her prey, and this was no different. Evelyn was like a deer, and Genevieve had the gun. All of the Parker’s had killed before, but this was a different type of killing. This wasn’t for food – for their only source of energy – for their survival. This was murder. One or more of the three in the room would be murderers. Another title for the Trusoni’s to drag along with them into the dirt. Lowering herself down into a crouch, Evelyn winced as the wooden floorboards creaked. That was the only sound, her mother was a master of stealth and even Evelyn couldn’t pick it up. Gasping harshly as a bolt of electricity grasped her throat and tightening quickly. Thrashing and yelling with what remained of the quickly vanishing oxygen in her lungs she heard her father trying to find her. Evelyn wouldn’t be able to save herself now. She would die. Killed by her own element. Gripping the electricity Evelyn could see her own plan had failed. She had brought a damn butter knife to a fight when she could’ve used her element. She had been blinded with anger, and that’s how she was now. Evelyn didn’t even feel the burn of electricity in her hands as her mother increased the voltage. Evelyn and Genevieve didn’t think the other had get this far. Genevieve more so than her daughter.


But Evelyn wasn’t part of the plan, she never was. Using the line of cracking energy Genevieve flung her daughter into another area of darkness and slowly walked towards her husband who was backing away in fear. “So old, so dangerous, so easy to kill. So weak.” She purred.


Genevieve could hear Evelyn scrambling around in the darkness, bumping into random objects, Genevieve knew she wouldn’t be found, Evelyn didn’t know this place like Genevieve did. Curling her fingers, a gentle yet bright orb, pulsing with energy burned brightly with a white light. It held so much power and so much destruction at the same time. But it would all go to waste, Genevieve was using too much power to kill Joseph. Genevieve turned her head as the crackle of energy would be drowned out by a scream. It was the same scream that was heard by thousands when Korbin was slaughtered. Throwing herself out of the darkness, Evelyn hurled a bolt of energy would fly towards her moth, but Genevieve saw what was coming. Using her speed she dashed out of the way, laughing as the pulse of electricity would smack into Joseph, slamming his against the wall. Joseph’s fragile body couldn’t take it. Yes he was Vampiric, but he wasn’t suited to that ability and that force. Evelyn stood still, looking around for her mother. But that wasn’t her concern. Her father wasn’t moving. Joseph was looking up at the ceiling, his head swimming and his vision blurred. Evelyn had hit him with so much force it was unbearable. Joseph would die. Slamming onto the floor Evelyn sobbed, hanging her head. “Daddy I’m sorry! I...let me help you!”

“You were always so kind, so gentle…” was his only response. He didn’t want to be saved. With his burning hand against his daughter’s cheek she smiled sadly. “Evie…don’t live for me…live for..."

"Please . . . don't leave me daddy. Please, don't leave me!" She sobbed, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. "Open your eyes, c'mon! Wake up! You have to wake up!"

He never got to finish, he was cut off by his own body dying. His hand fell down, slamming down onto the floor, that sound was all Evelyn could hear. Letting out a scream of anguish she gripped her dead father’s hand tightly, hanging her head. She wanted to be dead. Deader than what she already was.


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