The Cursed Blood

(The following is an excerpt from a longer work.)



When I began focusing on doing my spin on the vampire story, everything has been done ad nauseam. Or has it?

My premise is simple. What if you were a newly bitten vampire and had to feed. But every time you did you were filled with revulsion. You had the side effects of tremors, shaking, vomiting, passing out, and, yes, even death (again).

Such is the plight of Abigail Martin. Her life, her death, her new life, and then …

Read and enjoy.

Chapter 1

Today is my birthday. No, not that kind of birthday, it’s the day to remember when I first became a vlastu, more commonly known as a vampire.

I live in a small, dirt road, one stoplight town of Randolph, Texas. The hangout joints are an aging Dairy queen that is older than I am, a Piggly Wiggly where the eggs are still a dollar a dozen, and the local gameroom/pool hall where all the teenagers hang out. Its called the Emporium. What a nerdy name. This oasis of pleasure (so called) for teens, used to be the landing place for drunks with no teeth, drug addicts, and cons. No not convicts, con men. And this is the really horrible truth, I fell in love with one of them.

I have to confess it didn’t start out that way. At first I hated his guts. But like I said before he is a con man, or was. Never mind, Im getting ahead in the story and confusing you.

My name is Abigail Martin, Abby for short. You know like the Newspaper column “Dear Abby “? I love that and read it religously everyday.

I know all the guys want to be with me for one thing, and that is to get in my pants. Not that Im a drool over model, but I have curves. Blonde hair that I tie in a pony tail to keep out of my face, blue eyes, well you get the picture. I’ve been told I ought to go to Hollywood. I actually considered it once I turn eighteen, but decided I didn’t want to put up with the B.S. Sorry, quarter in the swear jar as my mama always used to say.

Down here in the southwest portion of the bible belt the strongest religion is Southern Baptist. We have church every Sunday morning and every Wednesday night. That’s a bit much even for me. I’m a good girl for the most part. There was that one night though that got me grounded lol.

Me and my bff Carla went cruising to beat out the Saturday night doldrums. So we went to the big town of Euclid , one county over . They have a bar that plays honkeytonk and has tons of guys other than the ones in Randolph that we see every day. So naturally that was our first destination . Of course they carded us at the door but that was no problem. Carla and I both had fake I.D.s and looked the part. Plus the fact that this was our first visit to this establishment.

Making our way inside we walked slow to the bar stools like we owned the place, letting every guy in the place ogle us. We sat next to each other comfortably resting on a couple of high bar stools.

The place was jumping with body heat, cold beer, and country, rocking from the jukebox. Right now it was playing “Jesus take the Wheel”. I kinda like Lee Anne Rimes, but this wasn’t my favorite song of hers. A person couldn’t tell it though by the crowd tapping their feet, humming to it, and dancing real close to each other.

Carla and I made small talk and looked coyly about the room. A lanky , trim and somewhat tanned middle aged man came up to us.

“What you gals have?”

Giggling beneath my breath I batted my eyes , poured on the charm and said “Us gals will have two cold beers”. We laughed quietly as he went to fill our order. “God, where did he learn English” snickered Carla smiled, ignored the comment and surveyed the room.

Dancing in the middle were eleven to twelve couples packed like sardines , sweating and having the time of their lives . I grabbed Carla’s arm and said just loud enough in her ear to overcome the decibel level “C’mon, lets raise some attention”.


Giggling again I motioned by curling my index finger and hooking it back and forth mimicking for her to follow.

We clasped hands and jogged to the jukebox and chose our selection. Sauntering out to the middle of the floor with a sphinx grin and coy looks and all the charm we could put out we started dancing, slowly building in rythym, intensity, and body heat.

We weren’t just trying to draw attention , we were going to imprint on people’s memories, burn their retinas, and give them a show. Little did we know at the time we did.

Chapter 2

He woke up. He was cold and hungry, that’s all he knew.

He thought back and tried to remember how he wound up this way….

By Greg Rickman

(Click here to read the second installment.)



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