In Spite of Everything

Sometimes you just gotta eat the blood of others in order to get the nutrients you need to survive. But to drink blood, you need to do it correctly, and there are rules to follow too!

This book follows two entirely different types of vampires, and how they must feed and stay hidden in order to save their eternal soul. They explore the streets of London through new eyes as well as old while trying to maintain a human-like personality and not casually jump throats because someone is being a little annoying and too cheery that day.

The book covers subjects such as; LGBT, allergies, acceptance, and a whole bunch of ignorance and anger towards all of those who do not understand the vampire's way.


Join the fun and learn to follow Briar's rules, please?

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3. London Streets, 2018

If I had known that I would run into a million fake “vampies”, I would never have turned back to my most prized vacation place back in 1800s. It was as if everywhere I looked I saw men and women dressed all in black, hair dyed the blackest colour on the market and wearing tramp stamps such as I’m a vampire, watch out or I might suck your blood. It might be due to my wandering in SoHo, but I still thought it crazy.

Where was the vampire den when you needed it? I did not forget it’s location, did I?

I tried to calm myself by saying that it had been AT LEAST a hundred years since I was here, but it didn’t help on my nerves. My body was running on its last fuels and I couldn’t just stop any fucking random and ask for their blood type … or could I?

I shook the thought out of my head and turned on my heel, following the stench of something grimy to the nearest low-level den that I spotted earlier. My body was cold, hungry, and I just wanted five minutes of non-human interaction after 4 years out in the field.

 

The English men and women and otherlies looked at me when I walked in. Maybe I was quite the sight for them, my teeth hadn’t rottened away like many of theirs and I was short and more or less bone in their eyes. The epidemic of fat had not yet reached me in my youth, while they might be admiring my body, I was shamelessly jealous of theirs. Like my mother would’ve said; “old habits die hard, dear, that is why we must stay out of humans way.”. It was at times like these, that I realised how much I missed the family back home.

They were no longer with me.

 

“Aren’t you a bit too.. You know?” the keeper said, and I sent him a death glare.

“Too what my good sir,” I hissed out between my teeth and rose.

Yes. My fangs were showing. Yes, he backed down and apologised.

People stopped bothering more or less, when I showed them that I was higher in the food chain than these newbies.

A young waitress turned up at my table, the dead stare and lust in her eyes showed me what of a whore of our fangs she was, and I looked her up and down. Not too interested in her attributes or anything else really. Her blood plaque read; B+.

“Not interested,” I muttered while looking down of a loose string coming from my shirt. I began playing with it.

She left with a huff and another girl returned.

 

This kept repeating for a while, until I slammed my hands down in the table and walked up to the bar keeper.

“Are you not an all blood serving bar?” I growled, annoyed with how this establishment prided themselves with the ability to serve all types of blood. I saw it just outside, so I knew the man would be lying he then said no to me.

“W-well … what type of blood are you in need of sir?”

I had scared him, and with good reason it seemed.

“AB-.”

“S-sorry, but hardly any has-”

“I KNOW!”

Then I stomped out the door, kicking a sign over just outside the den while ignoring people’s looks at me. Why would I care?

Then I kept walking, not sure where I was going to end up, or it was going to end up dying from starving myself.

 
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