A Grave Hunger Read online

  So that's how it happened, how my new life began. Now that I knew exactly what it was that killed my family, I had a focus. Like many others that had entered into this profession, I was motivated by revenge. To find the evil son of a bitch that had killed my family, and probably many others, and kill it. Perhaps then I could get some peace, some closure. I knew I couldn't move on with my life until I did this. I owed it to my family, to myself. I quit my job and sold my house in Scotland and moved over to the U.S. permanently.

  Over the next eighteen months, Robert taught me how to notice signs of vampire activity and how to track them. I spent hours each day learning how to fight and how to defend myself against vampires. Over the months I had become a skilled fighter in hand-to-hand combat, and proficient in a melee of weapons. I learned how to become vigilant in everyday situations in order to spot anything out of the norm and had honed my expertise in evasion techniques.

  Robert introduced me to two brothers, Luke and Ryan. They were also slayers and I had worked alongside them. Although never on the front line. Robert had insisted that I still wasn't ready for that. So I had been put in charge of research and tracking and left at home while the others engaged in battle. I was desperate to get out there into the action, to fight alongside the others, to exact my revenge on the evil bastards that had taken my family. However, Robert had been adamant that I still wasn't ready for this fight. I wondered if the day would ever come when I would be.

  CHAPTER 3

  PRESENT DAY

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a key that had the emblem "Castle Motel" emblazoned on the connecting key ring. I inserted the key in the lock and stepped inside as the door swung open. The room was minimally furnished, with a double bed, two bed side tables and a tired looking chest of drawers. An old, chunky T.V. sat on top of the dresser. This place was definitely not a high-class establishment. In fact, it was cheap, dingy and dirty. The motel also had an option of renting a room by the hour, so you could imagine the clientèle that frequented this place. Despite its many faults, this had been my home for the last eighteen months. During my first week here, I had bleached every inch of the place and scrubbed until the small, grimy looking bathroom was almost usable. I also bought new sheets for the bed, not quite trusting the ones that had been supplied. I had chosen this place because it had been close to Robert's house, only a twenty minute walk. Robert had offered his spare room to me, but I declined. I liked to be part of the bustle of the city, liked having everything I needed on my doorstep. Robert's house was on the outskirts of town, quiet, peaceful, away from the prying eyes of neighbours. That was the way he liked it, and to be honest, it was probably safer considering his profession. I could only imagine what a nosy neighbour would think seeing Robert carting in a body for the incinerator, or stumbling upon his basement full of hunting paraphernalia. The motel was really just a base, somewhere to leave my belongings. I spent most of my time either at Robert's house or travelling around the country with Robert and other slayers, tracking vampire activity. Although, at this time, I was still being left behind at various motels while the others were out hunting.

  I flopped down on the bed, plumped the pillow under my head and closed my eyes. I was due at Robert's soon and I was desperately trying to come up with a good reason to give to Robert to convince him that I was ready to take on a vampire. I had been training every day for the last eighteen months. I diligently did everything that Robert had asked of me, from spending hours trawling through various books on vampire lore, to countless days spent getting my ass kicked while learning hand-to-hand combat. I was itching to get into the fight, the obsession for revenge taking over and growing daily.

  I sighed. It didn't matter what I said to Robert, there was no way he was going to change his mind any time soon. I sat up and swung my legs off the side of the bed, struggling to motivate myself for another research session at Robert's. I was losing patience, and I felt like I was going to explode. I needed a release, some way to let out all of this anger and hurt, and I could think of nothing better than to do it by slaughtering a few filthy bloodsuckers.

  Standing up and making my way to the door, I thought of what mind numbing research Robert had in store for me today. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for what Robert had done for me. I was. In fact, he saved me in a lot of ways. If it wasn't for Robert, I hate to think what state I would be in. Not that I would make a good poster child for a well-adjusted person, as I stood at the moment. However, I knew that if it wasn't for him, for the focus he had given me in my life, I would have been lost. Not to mention he had become my adopted family. Having no one else to turn to, Robert had given me support. Above all, he completely understood what I was going through, having had suffered the same fate with his family all those years ago.

  When I got to Robert's, he was pouring over a local newspaper and taking notes. Robert always searched for new cases the old fashioned way, preferring the feel of a newspaper in his hands to searching online. He bought a subscription to hundreds of local papers, and they sat in piles stacked waist high all around his living room. It made his already small living room feel cramped and claustrophobic.

  "Hi, Robert. What's new?" I asked, navigating my way around the piles of newspapers and joining him on the sofa.

  "Hi, Leah. Looks like we caught a trail." He sighed, handing me the paper.

  The paper described a series of deaths in the Ithaca area. Over the last two months, five bodies had been found. All five bodies had died from exsanguination from an injury on their necks. The police were describing it as gang activity and had no suspects in custody as of yet. A familiar sense of rage swept through me as I read the names of the victims and imagined the heartbreak their families must be going through.

  "You know the drill. Look on the internet to see if there are any abandoned buildings in the area where this bloodsucker might be hiding out," he instructed.

  "I'm on it," I replied, opening the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table in front of me.

  "I'm going to get the kit together," he mumbled as he headed down to the basement.

  The kit he was referring to was an enormous box, filled with a range of weapons from machetes, knives and daggers, and even barbed wire. He returned with the box and sat it on the floor with a loud bang.

  "So, who's joining us for this hunt?" I asked, not looking up from the laptop.

  Robert, always safety-conscious, believed that at least two people should be on each job. He had drilled this into me from the first moment we had met. Vampires were not to be underestimated. They were strong, fast, and above all, cunning. If one slayer got into problems on the hunt, there would always be someone there to back them up.

  "Finlay," he replied. "He's back in town."

  I had heard Robert talk tirelessly about Finlay. Apparently, he had been a sort of adoptive father to Finlay growing up and it was clear by the way he spoke about him that he had a great respect for him.

  "Finlay? You haven't worked with him for a while," I said, a tinge of curiosity in my voice. "You usually work with Luke or Ryan."

  "Yeah, I haven't worked with Finlay for a few years. He's been working jobs in Canada recently and just back in the country a week ago. He'll be here around four today. You can meet him then," Robert answered while rummaging through the kit box.

  I was desperate to meet the infamous Finlay. The way Robert spoke about him was as if he was some sort of super slayer. I pushed my curiosity to the side; I would get to meet him soon enough anyway. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

  "Check this out, Robert. I've looked for abandoned buildings in the area and the only one in a five mile radius to all the crime scenes is this one," I said, turning round the laptop so Robert could have a look.

  I had hacked into the American land registry, which gave information of all the houses and other buildings, both occupied and empty. I had also learned this valuable skill from Robert.

  "Looks like that could be the place," Robert s
aid, squinting at the screen. "Print out a copy of the address."

  "Do I get to join you this time on the hunt?" I asked, the sound of expectation colouring my voice.

  "Don't start, Leah. You're not ready yet. You go into a hunt unprepared and you could get us all killed. I know you need to get out into the action, but not yet. You need more training," Robert snapped. Clearly he’d had enough of this particular conversation. A sudden buzzing noise ended the conversation. Robert snatched the vibrating phone from his pocket and clicked it open.

  "Robert," he answered. After a short pause, he replied to the caller on the other end of the line. "Where exactly are you?" he asked, his voice thick with concern. "Ok, I'll be there in a few hours," he said before hanging up.

  "What's happened?" I asked.

  "Luke and Ryan got into some trouble hunting a vampire nest. Ryan has been badly hurt." He was frowning.

  "Is Ryan ok?" I interrupted.

  "He'll survive. Luke says he's had worse. I'll be back sometime tomorrow." He grabbed the kit box and rushed towards the door. "Tell Finlay to hang tight until I get back."

  "Wait," I yelled, following him to the door. "I can hunt with Finlay. We can't wait any longer to get this bastard. What if it kills someone else while you're gone?"

  "Absolutely not!" he roared. "It'll need to wait until I get back. You'll not do anything stupid, Leah. You hear me?"

  "Ok, ok, settle down. I promise I won't go hunting," I replied. "I'll stay here to meet Finlay, and I'll see you when you get back."

  "Right, see you tomorrow," he answered, appeased by my response. He heaved the heavy kit box to his car and sped off.

  I returned to my spot on the sofa to process what I'd just heard. I hoped Ryan wasn't too badly hurt. We had worked together several times and I got on well with both brothers. They had become good friends. They had taken me under their wing, and I think they thought of me as the little sister they never had. They didn't wrap me up in cotton wool like Robert did, though, and I respected that. They never once patronised me or used me as a lackey. I was one of the gang, an equal. The brothers had worked with Robert for close to twenty years. Robert trusted them explicitly, as did I.

  I switched on the T.V. to distract me from my worry about Ryan. The news report had started. I absentmindedly stared at the screen, not really paying attention to what was being said, my mind still on Ryan. However, the next report quickly snapped me back into reality.

  The news reporter was describing a horrific murder of a family in Ithaca. Three members of the same family had died from massive blood loss from a wound on their necks. The reporter went on to relay each of their names and ages and flashed up a photo of them happy and smiling together. They left behind two teenage sons, who had been staying at a friend's house on the night of the attack. The police were canvassing the area for possible witnesses, but at the moment they had no suspects. I froze. The family reminded me so much of my own. I gaped as I stared at the photo on screen. The daughter was twenty-three, the same age my sister was when she died. She had the same long blond hair, but that's where the similarities ended. Nevertheless, it was enough to cut me to the core. My heart went out to the two boys. They would never have the love and support of their family, no proud parents at their high school graduation, no happy tearful mother on their wedding day, and no more family Christmases with everyone opening presents together and eating turkey.

  A burning rage washed over me. This son of a bitch had slaughtered three more people and destroyed the lives of countless others. Someone had to stop it before it killed someone else. I had to do something. I couldn't let another family suffer the same way I had suffered, the way those teenage boys would suffer. Without thinking, I slipped the address of the abandoned building into my pocket before grabbing a machete from the basement. I sprinted for the door, all promises made to Robert forgotten.

  CHAPTER 4

  The car weaved frantically through the afternoon traffic, tyres screeching as I recklessly sped around a sharp corner. My frenzied impatience caused the back end to fishtail dangerously out of control and into the other lane. A car horn blared as I narrowly missed hitting an oncoming vehicle. Influenced by the sound of the horn, I eased my foot off the accelerator, and the car slowed to the speed limit. My initial fury turned to a steady determination as a plan of action formulated in my mind. I drove into a rundown neighbourhood, where rubbish and fallen leaves littered the gardens, and graffiti covered the buildings and rotting fences. Every third house looked to be abandoned, and I spotted an eviction notice stuck on the front door of a property, probably seized by the bank or building society as people failed to pay their mortgages due to the current recession. As I continued along the road for a few miles, the houses were replaced by trees as town became country. I turned onto a dirt road and the car bounced over the uneven ground. My Sat Nav announced that I had reached my destination, and I pulled the car to a stop.

  This place looked like an ideal location for a vampire lair. Isolated from civilisation, the two story house stood at the bottom of a long path surrounded by large looming trees and overgrown shrubbery. The house itself looked as though it had been left to perish, to die alone. The roof, green with moss, had collapsed in one place and several shingles had been torn loose, probably from years of storms and bad weather. Ivy had wound its way around the house, giving the appearance that it was being strangled, as though a demonic force had long ago possessed its very foundations. The place definitely had an eerie vibe to it. It reminded me of a horror movie I had once seen. An unsuspecting teenage couple had snuck into an abandoned house for a night of passion, unbeknownst to them that the house was occupied by an evil, maniacal serial killer. I snorted at the accuracy of the situation. Snapping out of my daydream, I grabbed the machete, jumped from the car and reminded myself why I was here.

  My feet crunched under the newly fallen autumn leaves as I edged along the overgrown path. The further I moved toward the old ramshackle house, the more my determination began to waver. This had been the culmination of months of planning, research and training. I had been desperate for this moment for what felt like a lifetime. I needed to avenge my family, couldn't think of anything else. Rage and sorrow had taken over, possessed every cell in my body. I knew that going in on my first hunt alone was reckless, idiotic even, but I didn't care. A small part of me just wanted it to be over. Did I even want to get out of this alive? The weaker side of my personality wanted to give up, for the monster to put me out of my misery. I wanted the pain to stop once and for all, and then maybe I could be with my family again. I subconsciously shook my head, as if trying to clear the negative thoughts from my mind. I drew in a deep breath and picked up the pace.

  The entrance to the house was now only steps away. I stopped. My animal instinct kicked in, screaming at me that I was in danger and causing adrenaline to pump rapidly through me. Every fibre in my body urged me to run, to abandon this suicidal mission, but I knew that this could never be an option for me. I appraised the house in front of me, thankful for the daylight illuminating the shabby run down shack. Even in the bright light from the sun, this place looked sinister. The floorboards on the porch gently creaked and groaned under my weight, as I climbed the stairs of the porch. I knew this tiny sound, along with the violent thumping of my heart, had already alerted the occupant of the house to my arrival. I willed myself forward, my skin beginning to crawl and an involuntary shudder making its way up my spine. For the first time in eighteen months, I felt doubt, as the reality of the danger I was putting myself in began to dawn on me.

  My knuckles began to turn white from the tight grip on the machete in my right hand. The weapon failed to ease the tension I was feeling or give me a sense of security. A part of me wanted to run far from this hovel and what it contained inside, but I knew that I was at the point of no return. This was it. The moment that had been my obsession for the last eighteen months was here.

  An eerie calm suddenly washed over me, and as the f
ear and trepidation of the last few minutes faded, I lifted my leg and gave the closed door in front of me a violent kick. The aged wood easily gave way beneath my heavy leather boot and crashed loudly to the floor, sending up a cloud of dust. I stepped inside and was assaulted by the pungent odour of decay, mould and purification. The smell of death was rife, and I wondered how many bodies were rotting in this place, unbeknownst to their loved ones. Disturbed by the sudden intrusion, the flies darted in various directions around the room. As my eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness, my gaze came to rest on what I had come here for. Standing in the corner of the room was a dark, menacing figure. Even with its back to me I sensed pure evil seeping from every pore of the creature.

  A red mist of rage seeped through my body as I recalled the heartbreaking event that had caused this revenge mission. Unperturbed by my sudden intrusion, the figure remained standing unnaturally still, unconcerned with the new visitor. The silence in the room was almost unbearable. It felt like it had lasted a lifetime when it finally spoke.