Vampires of the Eight Read online

  Vampires Of The Eight

  George Kramer

  ©2020 Vampires Of The Eight. Written by George Kramer. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, photocopy, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.

  Other books by George Kramer:

  YA Fantasy:

  Arcadis Prophecy

  Arcadis War

  Arcadis Special Edition (Books one and two plus a short story)

  Arcadis Decimation

  Arcadis Emperor of all, Emperor on None

  Arcadis Convergence

  Arcadis To walk among the Gods

  Arcadis Days of Reckoning

  Arcadis Crucial Choices

  Arcadis Nothing is as it Seems

  Murder/Mystery:

  To Some It’s Just A Rose

  Medical Horror:

  Blind to Blood

  Blind to Blood 2 The Endgame

  Collection of short stories:

  Shattered Lives

  Poetry:

  Pondering Existence

  What then is the written word for?

  Non-fiction:

  Conversations with Caris

  Supernatural:

  Vampires Of The Eight

  Graphic novel:

  Arcadis Prophecy’s Origin

  (Only available through me. Use my email below)

  If you want to read more about my books, please go to:

  www.amazon.com/author/georgekramer

  If you enjoyed my book(s) and would like to email me, go to:

  [email protected]

  Dedication

  I want to thank Ray Wininger for his usual support while I am writing a new book. To Bryan Evans, who always provides me with a “sciencey” response that has merit. Chris Maksymczak was instrumental in helping me find a solution to a struggle I had at the beginning of the story.

  To my beta readers, Michelle Sargent and Ginger Cook, I thank you!

  To my wife and daughter, as always, give me the freedom to write, especially when I am in my writing zone.

  A special heartfelt thanks and shout out to my friend and editor Kelly Lopez Dillion! She did a fantastic job!

  And to the people that enjoy my books, thank you!

  BLOOD TYPE COMPATIBILITY CHART

  Can Receive From or Take Blood From

  BLOOD

  TYPES

  O-

  O+

  B-

  B+

  A-

  A+

  AB-

  AB+

  AB+

  X

  X

  X

  X

  X

  X

  X

  X

  AB-

  X

  X

  X

  X

  A+

  X

  X

  X

  X

  A-

  X

  X

  B+

  X

  X

  X

  X

  B-

  X

  X

  O+

  X

  X

  O-

  X

  *This is not a donation chart. Instead, it’s a receiving chart. Nor does it contain plasma criteria. For example, an O negative person can donate to any ther blood type, but can only receive O negative blood. Being able to take blood is the focus of my book.

  List of blood types and their rulers:

  O PositiveSol Rastin, Ray Greenwell

  A PositiveOctavus, the Brooder

  B PositiveSilvia, the Hopeful

  AB PositiveClayton Cole, the Archetype

  O NegativeMaryl Rosser, the Seeker

  A NegativeSalvatore, the Great

  B NegativeTrevor, the Giant

  AB NegativePlatov, the Compromiser

  Chapter One

  Present Day, May 3rd

  Clayton Cole was leisurely strolling along the worn-out path on his estate when he sniffed the air, stopped, and trembled with delight. His well-toned six-foot frame stiffened as he determined the origin of the delicious aroma. His long brown hair twisted in all directions in the summer’s swift breeze.

  His ultra-keen vision found his potential prey sixty yards to the north. With unmatched stealth, Clayton silently sped to the brink of the tree line. He stole a gaze from the edge of the thick tree trunk. There was a clearing with a large meadow where Clayton saw a human woman who was humming an unfamiliar tune. The woman was picking flowers and herbs and placing them in her woven basket.

  The tall green grass went well past her thighs as she leaned over to smell a flower. As she stood upright, the woman smiled as a warm breeze skirted through, which made her long blond hair fall in her face. She gazed down, picked a flower, stood up, and swatted flies away with her basket.

  “Shoo, you pesky buggers!”

  Clayton could see her blood throbbing and pumping throughout her soft, delicate body.

  Clayton silently gauged how much longer the woman had to live when he unconsciously placed his hand on the tree. He saw the ancient language made from dried blood that remained engraved in it from his finger a hundred years ago. The blood was much brighter than he remembered. Clayton slowly traced the old and familiar tongue when he realized he was at the perimeter where he wouldn’t step beyond. If he didn’t want to break the treaty with the other blood types, Clayton would remain where he was.

  He was hungry, but he would not cross the boundary line. “Damn!” He cursed silently to himself. The human woman was his blood type too!

  Clayton took one last look at his lost meal and was turning when something caught his attention. He went back to the enormous tree trunk and could smell predators that were eyeing his abandoned prey. Then a thought surfaced. If Clayton could breathe in their scent, it was more than likely the other intruders could smell him too.

  Curious, Clayton let his presence be known and walked to the opening between his treeline and the vast field that stretched for miles. He watched as the other raiders quickly overtook the woman. The woman’s woven basket flew in the air while all the plants and herbs scattered on the ground. Before they attempted to devour the precious ingredient of life, the vampires looked straight at Clayton and smiled.

  Clayton came to the edge of the perimeter and stared at the three vampires as he put his hands behind his back. He was not afraid of them or of them crossing the boundary line.

  “Nice try,” Clayton called to them.

  The biggest of the three vampires, who wore a hunter green tee shirt and jeans, spoke first. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

  Clayton sniffed the air. He let a few seconds go by before responding. “I could smell the three of you.” He pointed to one of them. “You, the big guy, are O positive blood type. The other two are O negative. You know what that means?” he said with a smile.

  They remained silent. The human woman was frantically trying to escape the clutches of the men.

  Clayton looked at the taller of the three vampires and exhaled deeply. Why must he have to explain to the younger vampires the rules of their existence? They should know. “Then let me refresh your young memory. O positive vampires can only take blood from O positive or O negative humans.” He turned his head to the other two and pointed. “And both of you are O negatives, which means you can only obtain blood from O negative humans. So stop pretending you’re going to suck her blood because she is AB positive. (1) Unless, of course, you want to so I can witness your slow and agonizing deaths.”

  The shortest of the three took hold of the crying human woman. He sniffed the air as hi
s eyes turned dark. “And I know you’re an AB positive, which means you want her blood, don’t you mister?” He took a finger and sliced a deep thin line across her throat. The human started to gurgle. Fear and incomprehension fell upon her face. “You want some of her? Come here and get some while she’s still warm.”

  Clayton felt the familiar stirring from the crimson fluid even though he knew it was a trap. The three of them had to be relatively new vampires to think he was stupid enough to cross the boundary line. “Doesn’t matter,” Clayton stated casually even as his hunger intensified as he saw the sweet red nectar gently oozing downward from her creamy throat.

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter?” The shortest vampire challenged. “Then, this won’t matter…” He took the woman’s head and snapped it as if it were a twig. The woman fell to the ground, unmoving. Her brown eyes looked vacantly up to the sky. The flowers and herbs, now free, were dancing with the wind in a circular motion.

  Clayton refused to show emotion at the useless waste of a good meal.

  The vampires smirked as they slowly walked to the borderline.

  Clayton walked to his side of the boundary until they were a couple of feet away from each other. The wind picked up and caused Clayton’s long hair to sway at the wind’s discretion.

  “Looks like you won’t be having a meal anytime soon.”

  “Look like it,” Clayton stated casually. He smiled and turned around. He walked a few feet before one of the vampires commented.

  “Your time is coming!” one of them yelled.

  Clayton gave a slight pause before walking further away.

  “Did you hear me?”

  With sudden ferociousness, Clayton zipped back to his borderline. “Do tell.”

  The sudden appearance of Clayton startled them for a second.

  “You don’t scare us!” The bigger one boasted.

  “I shouldn’t scare you; after all, there are three of you and only one of me,” Clayton said with slight amusement. He brushed his hair back in place with his long fingers.

  The taller vampire sniffed the air in contempt. “Maybe you’ll have more luck on your side of the border.”

  “Maybe,” Clayton said, taking a few steps backward, facing them in the event they tried to cross his borderline. He continued taking steps back, thinking the conversation was over.

  “That’s right, go ahead and retreat!” the shortest vampire taunted.

  Clayton held his laughter in check as he stopped in his tracks. “How old are the three of you?”

  The tallest one said, “I am the oldest of these parts. I turned twelve years ago. The middle guy, Steven, turned eight years ago, and Jerry, the smallest one of us, had only recently turned five years ago.”

  Jerry’s bald head grew red, and his teeth clenched. “Davey, you just told the Stranger our names!”

  “Really? Ah, to be young again! Do you have any idea how old I am, and who I am?” Clayton asked in a whispered tone.

  Jerry, the shortest vampire, looked at him with contempt. “No, and we don’t care, you’re an AB type. It doesn’t matter if it’s negative or positive. The AB’s have had their time!”

  “Quiet!” admonished Davey, the big one.

  “Really, and why is that?” Clayton asked with curiosity.

  “Remember the Great Yeomen Purge of 1751?” Jerry boasted.

  Clayton hid his anguish and suppressed a shudder. “You know of the Purge? Did they teach you that in school?

  “Just answer my question, mister!” Jerry said with rising anger. “Do you remember the Great Yeomen Purge of 1751?”

  Clayton sighed. “Yes, of course, because I was there. And?”

  “You, you were there?” Jerry asked in awe.

  “Yes,” Clayton stated.

  “Shut up!” the other vampires said in unison.

  Jerry regained his composure. “No, I will not shut up! For far too long, the AB tribe have thought themselves the top of the vampire food chain. Remember, history tends to repeat itself!”

  Clayton walked in anger until his feet were at the cusp of the boundary. His body stiffened to the point of being rigid. “A great deal of my family perished in the great yeomen purge of 1751,” Clayton said between clenched teeth. “So, before I break the treaty and break all of your necks, let me tell you something about myself. My name is Clayton Cole of the Cole tribe, and spare me your useless scare tactics. It will not work on me. In a few days, I will be celebrating my thousandth birthday. And the three of you combined are only twenty-five years old, just two and a half percent of my age!”

  Clayton knew his scare tactic worked because their stance shifted to a fighting posture. Clayton waited for them to try something foolish despite knowing they wouldn’t dare. They knew who he was now; he saw not only fear in their eyes but recognition too.

  Without another word, the three of them retraced their steps and left. Clayton stood in place for a few minutes. While the three vampires retreated, he contemplated what one of them had said. Was there a strife or war brewing among the different blood types of vampires? And if so, why wasn’t he aware of it? In a few short weeks, it would not matter. His well thought out plan would come to fruition.

  He walked back to the tall, thick tree. So much had changed within the centuries he had been alive. With gentleness, he placed his hand on the ancient tree, closed his eyes, and remembered the day it all began when he ascended to vampire-hood almost a thousand years ago. Quiet tears found their way out of his eye ducts as they gently strolled down his face.

  Chapter Two

  1020 AD Year of Clayton’s Ascension

  Clayton paused before entering the dark, dank, and foreboding underground cave. He peered at his mother with anxiety. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  His mother, Tabatha, looked at her son. “You know I can’t tell you much, Clayton. The only thing you need to know is it’s your thirteenth birthday, and you will ascend to vampire-hood just like the rest of our tribe.”

  Clayton nodded and, at his mother’s insistence, began to move forward.

  “Why couldn’t I just be born a vampire? Why do I have to ascend at thirteen?” Clayton asked. He could feel his heart race and his palms were sweaty.

  Tabatha took a few deep breaths as she prodded her son to move forward. “When we are born, we are called in-betweeners. While we can take nourishment from the blood sack when we’re in our mother’s womb, our bodies can’t handle the power when we are given human blood as babies. Children, even babies, have gone insane, and if you think puberty in humans can be rough, imagine times that by ten thousand with our culture.” Tabatha sighed. “Generations ago, our ancestors decided the transformation was too difficult and brutal on babies, kids, and of course, the parents. Our tribe met and decided to enact a law forbidding anyone to transform before the age of thirteen.”

  “Why?”

  Tabatha put out her hand. “Come, Clayton. There’s no time for more questions.”

  Clayton looked ahead. “It’s dark at the end of the tunnel, mother.”

  “Yes, and it needs to be so. There are candles further down to light your way,” his mother said with a composure that she did not feel.

  Clayton walked several more yards and stopped. His body shook and quivered. “I don’t know if I am ready for my ascension, mother!”

  Tabatha went to her knee and knelt beside Clayton. She placed her steady hands on his trembling shoulders. “Look at me, Clayton! Get hold of yourself! You are going to ascend today. Everyone in our tribe does. You have to push through your fears just like the rest of us had to.”

  Clayton bit his lower lip. “But I am nervous, mother! Suppose I die?”

  “Don’t be silly. No one has ever died in the ascension to vampire-hood.”

  “But I am both a non-vampire and a vampire. I am an in-betweener until I ascend. I can be hurt!”

  “True, but you are far tougher and stronger than a human.” Tabatha looked at her young son.

  His
dark hair came down to his nose. Tabatha combed his hair with her fingers and straightened his posture. She looked at her son and smiled warmly.

  “I will let you in on a well-kept secret, Clayton. Vampires are not the undead creatures described in the oral history of humans. We have all of the same body parts as a typical human. Our hearts pump and beat like them. We can cry; we have hunger pains, and women give birth. But how we differ from humans is our skin is impenetrable, meaning nothing can get through it. A wooden stake will not kill us, nor will sunlight. Garlic and holy water do not affect us, nor does anything in folklore. We have superhuman strength, hyper hearing, and hyper seeing abilities. We are nearly immortal, yet you’re afraid of some silly ritual?” She seized Clayton’s innocent face. “Think of the power that will course throughout your body once you ascend, Clayton!”

  “What can kill us?” Clayton asked his mother to stall for time.

  Tabatha stood up and looked down at her son. “The only thing known that can kill us is by another vampire. Only we have the strength to penetrate each other’s skin.”

  “Huh? You told me we couldn’t be hurt because we have skin that no one can pierce.”