Here's another peek at my current work in progress, NIGHT CHILDREN: DARK CHANGES.
Remember, this is from the rough draft so it does not reflect the final product. Anyway, sit back and enjoy...
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Night Children: Dark Changes
Chapter Twelve:
Isla De Los Vampiros
It
took the Bloodfeast three weeks to finally approach its isle home. During that time, they would feed on the
surviving Sea Wing crew members. Roland
didn’t want to be tossed overboard so he ignored the helpless human’s pleas. He avoided their desperate eyes, even though
their cries for help ripped his soul apart.
Roland
watched the crew unload the stolen goods onto the dock. They seemed to gaze at their Captain with a
mix of fear and respect as he forcefully shouted commands.
The
sounds of excited people drew him to the shore.
The port looked normal. He could
sense vampires nearby but it was probably the crew. He wondered what new adventures this place
would bring. An unnaturally strong hand
gripped onto his shoulder and spun him around.
Blood-Eyed Bill glared, his dark red eyes skewered him like two hot
pokers.
“It
was a mistake to bring you,” his voice deep as a powerful drum, “You shouldn’t
be a vampire. You’re too small. Too young.
One day he won’t be able to protect you.”
Roland
wanted to scratch the fool’s eyes. Prove
his merit. Instead of causing a fight he
might not win, he simply brushed off Bill’s hand with an equally strong
push.
“Touch
me again and I’ll make you Black-Eyed Bill,” he snarled. Bill snarled back.
“Ahem,”
Reginald interrupted, “I trust we’re not spoiling our joyous homecoming with
acts of stupidity?”
“No
sir.” Bill replied. Roland just glared at Bill.
“Good. Bill, finish supervising the unloading.” Blood-Eyed Bill moved away and Reginald opened his arms
towards the harbor. “Roland, my boy,
welcome to Isla de los Vampiros. It
means Island of the Vampires. No place
on Earth like it. An island populated,
with some exceptions, of our kind. This
is our island. We can rest, relax and feed at our
leisure.”
“If
everyone’s a vampire, what do you feed on?”
Roland’s hopes rose. Maybe he
could actually stop drinking from mortals.
Then maybe the guilt would leave.
“You’ll
not be going back to cats and rats.
Sorry to disappoint you,” the smirk on his face showed he clearly wasn’t,
“The local tribe willingly provides us plenty of stock to feast upon.” Roland’s stomach dropped.
“That’s
your new home,” Reginald pointed towards the village. Roland could see many people moving with
great speed, darting to and fro. Some
cheered while pouring red liquid into their opened mouths. Others leaped from the rooftops with screaming
islanders trapped in their arms. Chaos
ruled the village, causing Roland to feel homesick for the peaceful woods of Massachusetts.
