Love can have its Revenge.
And no! Before I start, I am not jumping in, and out of bed with every person I see, you will have to wait until chapter six for such intimate behaviour, and anyway, I am not like that, I am a good girl.
Well, I was until something changed my life so drastically that it created a monster within me, yes, I still wanted to love and be loved, but now I also wanted something by far deeper and sinister, as I also desire on a much deeper level, revenge.
I found myself reflecting on life and in how this had all started, and incredibly it all started with Leon a fourteen -year old boy from one of the local council estates in my Parish. I had watched Leon grow up at the local church school in Mid-Horton, London; only Leon was different.
He was a bright and intelligent child who preferred to keep his own company, polite and respectful, yet for many years lacked a father’s guidance and had a mother who prostituted herself to supplement her income.
Leon’s interest extended to reading, wildlife, The Arts, learning French, history, maths and incredibly RE. When our paths cross he would spend up to forty extra minutes debating with me about religious factions, same-sex relationships, the churches view on such matters, and about Christ and love, wanting to know if Christ was indeed God.
Behind all this, I realised Leon was searching, and I had rightly assumed some years earlier that he was Gay and fighting at the time, societies view of such matters.
I will be truthful I felt for the child, as he was at a stage in his life where his hormones were changing his body, he felt alone, rejected by society, and in some ways scared, so I prayed and decided to help him, by gathering as much written material as I could find on safe sex, same-sex relationships.
And after deliberating with myself, I one day sought him out knowing his local haunts, his hideaways and places he preferred to use when he wanted to be alone.
Only I embarrassingly caught him compromised and masturbating with an old copy of Gay News, realising he had not seen me, I quietly returned by the way I had entered, only I left a carrier bag of goodies for him where he could not avoid seeing, and knowing curiosity would compel him to investigate its contents.
That was the last I saw of Leon for almost seven months, and when he returned he was a no longer the shy young teenager, but full of confidence and in appearance as if he had matured growing into a young man.
Little was I to know he had found himself a companion, and boldly he approached me and openly thanked me for the gift which I had left him and proceeded to tell me about Shaun, his friend.
Only at the time I was not aware Shaun was not human but a vampire from France and born of Elder vampire parents thousands of years earlier, his appearance was such that having a petite frame and youthful looks, he could pass as a young teenager, and it was this which caught
Weeks after discovering my gift and having read extensively on the subject, his curious mind sought out knowledge and this almost cost him his life. A group of travelling new age tinkers had lured him in and kidnapped him with intent to sell him into slavery in a brothel in Europe.
It was while in Brussels that Shaun heard his weeping and decided to investigate, allowing the tinkers to believe they had found another youthful looking victim, only Shaun killed them all except for Lenard, the leader, keeping him alive for later.
Soon Shaun and Leon became friends, and in Leon’s words, he explained what happened.
“Shaun realised I was Gay, only I was basically also a virgin and although knowledgeable in politics, religion and society in general, as for my sexuality, thanks to the material you gifted me, I had an understanding of my feelings, and knew you as a representative of the church you accepted me. Although I soon learnt many of the so-called Born Again, Evangelical types rejected me, and Shaun also realised I had a keen and active mind, with a thirst for knowledge, but also it was my nature, my mindset, including my outlook on life which attracted him. He could find sex anywhere, but not companionship and an intellectual mind to debate and share life with, and in many ways thanks to those hours upon hours we spent talking and debating I gained such an interest which led in time to Shaun and me becoming partners.”
I could see he was happy, but I at that time was still unaware Shaun was a vampire, heck I was married, I had children and, in my world, and at that time, such monsters were only in books and films, and not part of reality.
I was to some months later to discover at the cost of my sanity, that such creatures are real, and that only a small percentage of vampires sought honest and ethical lives, while the clear majority are evil to their core.
Leon at that time decided not to tell me his friend was a vampire, but he did introduce us, and incredibly I found something beautiful in his soul, his eyes were bright, and he soul gazed me with a youthful smile.
I saw nothing evil, only love, and a trusting relationship knowing Leon would be cared for, loved, safe and happy, and that pleased me, so I gave them both my blessings and that was the last I saw of them until many months later.
I watched as the music played and those around me danced and were becoming high or drunk from a sumptuous free supply of alcohol and drugs. The hosts were a group of business people who pooled their resources and utilised the social media to advertise illegal raves and quietly sectioned out, their targets.
It had taken me over a year to reach this point, and I had been following a lead which had brought me to this illegal rave.
You need to understand, as so much had happened, and it had taken time, but now I knew what signs to look for and in how to avoid embarrassing blunders like happened to me about three months earlier.
Like a fool I had been so full of confidence in my new-found abilities, that I had thought myself invincible and rather stupidly as an avenger from God.
Shit was I wrong, and it very nearly cost me not only my life but that of a person who I had thought I was trying to save.
My problem was simple, but then I had not thought through or realised what it was that I was hunting, yes, I knew it was a crazed monster, and possibly, that, or some weirdo who get kicks from bloodlust; only reality had told me otherwise, that, and hours upon hours of research.
Yes, a fracking Vampire I know and now realise it was stupid of me, only it was then that all I had read in books, and research from the internet was utter crap, utterly useless and it had not prepared me for the reality of facing an intelligent bloodthirsty creature with powers by far above that of ordinary humanity.
It was 02.27 am, and I had heard a scream, agreeably that was not unusual in this area, only I had noted a tonal cry of utter paralysing fear, the type which roots the body to one spot and all the brain can do is cry out begging for mercy.
As I reflect, I must have been so naive and stupid, as I had imagined myself, as in the sitcom Only Fools and Horses, and when Dell boy and Rodney dressed as Batman and Robin come running out of the fog, only this was fracking reality and I had so stupidly run into a volatile situation which almost had placed what would have left me in a coffin, and six feet under.
Had it not been for the stranger, and someone who later turned out to be a master Vampire in her own right, only she was many thousands of years old, and I had not realised at the time, that she had baited this particular group, and after months of research, she had tempted them from hiding to claim what they had thought an easy victim.
Only out of the metaphorical fog, I had come running, collar on back to front and carrying a fricking silver tipped stake. Incredibly and even to my surprise, I had ended the life of one of the group; only I had not realised that three others were quietly awaiting their turn to feed on the victim and hidden in the shadows.
As I thought, Yes I have finally sought revenge and killed my first vampire an evil monster, the supposed victim stared in disbelieve, and it was then when I realised she was staring beyond and to the side of me, later my instinct awoke, and my stupid fricking brain kicked in.
Survival mode had taken over, and the three new vampires merged from the shadows, and they were angry at the loss of their friend but delighted in another stupid human for volunteering to become their lunch.
At the time, my reflex actions must have taken over, and my Druidic bloodline realised my safety was imminently in question.
How I was at the time uncertain, but roots shot up from the ground and entangled two of the beasts, only they were incredibly loud and tore away eventually breaking their hold. I not only was praying, but I was also fighting for my bloody life. Get it, Bloodsucking monsters after me, No!... oh well.
Everything seemed to go into slow motion, and as one of the vampires took hold of me, the ground beneath it opened and then closed solidly around the creature’s mid-section and holding it firmly in place allowing me to fight off its hold and then stake the beast in the back and through to its heart.
Another one down, two still trying to kill and the victim I had decided to save and me, only she kept me.
Honestly, before my eyes as the two vampires regarding me as the more significant threat focused on killing me, they had allowed their earlier victim and giving her the opportunity of enacting her kind of revenge.
And it was then I learnt that not all blood-sucking creatures are monsters to humanity. Jennie O’Hara transformed and no longer hid her true powers, it was like a lid being removed, and an overpowering scent was enveloping all that was nearby.
Instantly the two vampires froze in shock, and I regained my thoughts, and the ground under them opened and swallowed them to their knees, and then closed firming a solid concrete solid surface and preventing them from moving.
Yet even then, their eyes were affixed on the human who I had tried to save, and it was then that I witnessed something incredibly unfair, even unjust, and at that moment I thought life utterly stinks, as I was meant to be the heroin, only Jennie O’Hara, bloody knocked me out and I presume, took care of the remaining vampires.
Only I woke some three hours later, naked and laid on black silk sheets, having been presumably showered or bathed, to remove the grime and blood which had contaminated me and ruined my clothing, so much for having been prepared and having thought through what I was so stupidly letting myself into.
I tried to sit up, only I discovered I was embarrassingly tied to the bed by silk scarves on each limb, and holding my semi crucified body, and lying upon a bed.
Indeed, you would not have thought I was a member of the Anglican church if you had heard my enraged and embarrassed reactions at finding myself in such a humiliating situation.
Honestly, the Irish side of my nature came out and my Druidic character was unable to assist me, as I was away from mother earth, secured, naked and vulnerable, and been held by an ancient creature who wished me no harm, having only secured me, apparently, (as if) for my own protection.
Personally, and at the time I thought it was an overkill, kinky and slightly perverted, not that I was complaining, as there was something about Jennie O’Hara, which interested me.
Although at the time, that is what she had told me, and although now I know differently, as Jennie O’Hara had an ulterior motive, and which now makes me laugh when I think of her, and who was in time to become my close friend, and partner in crime, and eventual lover, but that is for a later time, and merely has explained how I came to be here and in this position at that moment in time.
Earlier and some months back, it all started by accident, I had not set out to become a Night Slayer, nor had I thought or ever wanted, let alone intended in finding myself a same-sex partner.
Please, allow me to explain, my name is Zoe Armstrong, I’m thirty-seven on my next birthday, fun loving, I was stably married, I love my family and friends, and I worked as a curate in a local church, and to me, life is a beautiful gift.
Well it was, that is until some, mother fucking weirdo had murdered my husband, and it forced me to reevaluate my faith, then fifteen days later Susan Whitby my bridesmaid and best friend from school, was found dead and drained of her blood. So, after a time of emotional recovery, and like I already said, of revaluating my life, I took up a new profession.
Oh, do not get me wrong, I am still a curate and serve my community by day, only at night I help them in a very different way, dressing in my instantly recognised outfit, white collar on back to front as my kids call it, knee length laced leather boots, comfortable slim fit jeans, black of course, my curate top, a V neck sweater, jacket, black leather gloves and a smile along with my patrolling the streets to help those in need, oh, and before I forget, I am a night slayer of all that is evil and living off the blood of good honest people.
Why! And what qualifies me for this work?
It has little to do with my faith or a calling from God to rid the world of such creatures, but more a piece of coincidental luck. Crazy I know, even I think so, but I was born from a long line of Irish gipsies, and who practised the old faith, that which was rife in my home country, and long before the Catholic Church had set its roots.
My father and his bloodline were Druids, powerful and centred on serving the goddess Gaia, and of their faith as far back as the Celtic times, and centred in early humanity, well, that was until I came along and broke a tradition in the bloodline of hundreds if not thousands of years.
Could you imagine my family’s reaction when I told them that I was joining the church, talk of having a fracking heart attack, my mother cried and threw a tantrum, but dad, he just smiled and gave me a blessing?
Yes, the old fart, told his wife to shut it, zip it and respect their daughters’ wishes, and then he took me aside and along with Gramp’s, my grandfather they gave me a blessing and smiled, and then could not get rid of me quick enough.
Well not literally, but it seemed that way, only now I understand and know differently, and not long after my husband had died, and my best friend was murdered, I suffered an emotional breakdown and had returned to my family home in Ireland for emotional comfort, love and support.
My grandfather who I affectionally called gramps, stems from the bloodline of the early Brian Boru family, only our bloodline followed a drastically different path and refused any association with the Catholic teachings, and which later started to take root and corrupt one side of the family, who also for a time became the King of Ireland.
Only just not from my side, we were, however, loved and trusted advisors to the King, and our Druidic faith was tolerated, which was one reason why we survived while others died, even burnt at stake by a zealous priest in the name of their God and love.
The fact that land was stolen and gifted to the church, after priests murdered and tortured their victims and then forced their belief structure onto others is even today, conveniently overlooked. And if you do not believe me, do your research and take off the blinkers covering your eyes, it is a historical fact.
Don’t get me wrong, as I am a fricking Priest, well a Curate, and the Church today is by far a different beast to what it was in its early history, and before you ask me. No! We do not go burning our congregation or members at stake, mind you I might if I had my way, well, let us say, I have a much smaller version of a stake, and with a sharp point and blessed by holy water, silver tipped and carried by me 24/7.
I was in a dreadful mental state; basically, an emotional mess and my children were traumatised by the loss of their father and the death of who they knew with affection as aunty Susan.
Incredibly it was Gramps who took me aside one evening, as the children had gone to bed and my father cared for them as Gramp’s went out for a walk with me.
The crazy old fart was 104 years and fitter than me, agile, quick-witted and valued and feared by the locals, who knew our family druidic bloodline and respected us cordially.
We had been walking past the cove, and in an area of land which had been in our family since the beginning of time, well, it seemed that way to me, and as a child growing up in that area I knew every inch of ground and had loved exploring the shoreline and multiple caves or caverns used by early smugglers, to hide rum, brandy, and other contraband.
“Zoe, you do realise the gift which flows within your blood, do you not understand the implications?” asked gramp’s.
Only that was as far as he got when we were confronted by a group of semi-drunk teenagers, tourist to our area and partly high on some weird drug.
They saw me, and their hormones came into play, and started calling old gramps a cradle snatcher, not realising the danger they were placing themselves in, but then nor had I, as even to my mind and eyes, gramp’s was fit for his age, but in no way could he take on seven crazed semi-drunk and high teenagers or young men, who were possibly eighteen or nineteen years in period.
“Come on old man put your dick away, retire and let us show her an enjoyable time,”
Now I was becoming annoyed and feeling vulnerable after the deaths of my loved ones. Only gramp’s must have picked up on this as he did something most unexpected.
Smiling and laughing, gramp’s bowed to the group,
“Are you sure you want to try and take her from me boys, after all, you are hardly even grown men, heck I could eat you for breakfast.”
There was laughter, yet surprise, and it stirred a reaction, which I later understood old gramp’s had wanted. Quietly and unobserved by the louts gramp’s had used his toes to force off his shoes, and then he softly touched the earth from the holes in his socks. It was then I felt a transformation unseen by the thugs, and three as approached my grandfather to exert force and separate me from his protection or company.
My eyes must have popped, and my lower jaw hit the floor as gramp’s used energy or force which appeared to flow from him and partly into me and waking something within which had laid dormant for almost thirty-seven years.
At over a hundred years in age, my grandfather had no problem putting down two of the thugs and thinking about it now; I am confident he could have managed very sufficiently without my even been there.
Only a maternal instinct and a sudden protective love for my grandfather which I cannot explain erupted within me. And when I saw the remaining five thugs start to attack my grandfather, well Father God, forgive me, but I struck.
Yes, the little humble, loving curate who was training for the priesthood, became a raving ravenous monster, and how, I am uncertain, but it was like the inherited memories of hundreds of Druidic generations flooded into my mind, and I remember screaming to Gaia for help.
What I did after that, even now I am uncertain, and on reflection, it could have been gramp’s, but in my mind, I envisaged the earth opening and swallowing those brutes who were trying to harm a sweet and loving old man.
There were screams, and I remember gramp’s held me back as the ground opened around the men and tree roots rapidly grew and took hold of them and started dragging them down beneath the soil. Then the ground healed over, and my grandfather released his grip on me, and the men were no more.
That was my initiation, and the day I realised horrifyingly that within me laid powers which stemmed from my bloodline and had been dormant up till then. Only now, I was aware within me put the potential to seek out those who committed such evil and to enact my own particular kind of revenge.