Taste of Blood - Part Two (Life After Death)

Still heart sick from what I had done to Stanley, I snuck out of the Morgue. What choice did I have. Emily Rose, meaning me, was officially dead. There had even been a cardboard tag tied to my right toe. When I stuck my head outside, I was surprised at how bright it seemed. It was almost as well lit to my eyes as a heavily overcast day would have been. To avoid blinding myself, I found I had to look away from the streetlights lighting up the parking lot.

Looking at Stanley keys, I could see that they went to an older Honda. Luckily, there were not many cars left in the parking lot of the morgue and I could see a blue beat up Honda sedan. The paint was badly faded but appeared have originally been either a dark blue or black. I did not see any other Hondas, so it almost had to be Stanley's car. What do you expect from a security guard.

There was some regret that I could not get my own car. It was probably in the impound yard now so my chances of getting to it were effectively nil. Besides, it would be reported immediately and would be extremely hard to escape with it. Stanley's Honda was less likely to stick out. Anyway, my keys, along with a lot of other important items, had been in my purse when I was posing as a whore. They had been in the undercover car which was suppose to have supported me but who knows where they were now. It left me wondering how I would get into my apartment. Maybe I could break through a window.

Looking around, I worried that someone might be watching but I saw no one. I tried to walk casually towards the Honda but the pants felt like they were constantly sliding down. I simply could not tighten the belt enough to hold them up. Stanley's tee-shirt was big on me although I could see my nipples poking through the white material. It made me feel a bit self conscience. I could feel the cold although I should have been shivering with just a thin tee shirt and a pair of polyester dress pants. Stanley's shoes had been like boats on my feet so I was in bare feet.

Nothing happened on my way to the car and I tried the keys in the driver's door. The lock snapped open. It was at least the rights car. There was garbage filling the back seat, I noted. Sliding into the drivers side, I put the keys into the ignition. I turned it over several times but it did not start with the engine spinning over but not catching. This was worrying. As a last resort, I stomped on the gas several times and tried the ignition again. It did not catch on the first time but finally caught on the second try. Allowing the car a few minutes to warm up, I slid the seat belt over my lap.

Pressing down on the clutch, I eased the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking space. First stop was home. It was not really safe but I had to get some items before I tried finding a place to hide. Some money was essential. I could feel Stanley's 45 in the small of my back as I pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the road. Even though beat up and none too clean, the Honda seemed to run pretty well once it got started.


My apartment was in a slightly rundown area although not an especially high crime area. Still, you can live in the richest part of town and have problems. It was after one in the morning and the roads had been quiet. Stanley's watch showed that it was Monday morning and I had been trolling for the serial killer Thursday night and Friday morning. That was probably why I had not been cut up yet by the Coroner. Of course my slashed wrists had healed as well so it was possible I would have healed from being cut up as well. About three days had passed since I had died.

My parking spot was taken and had to wonder if the ghouls in the complex had already broken into my apartment. Inside a safe, I kept a couple of hundred of extra dollars as well as a spare credit card I never used. Unfortunately, I had never purchased a weapon beyond my backup weapon and that had been in the patrol car of my backup. Again, I had no way of knowing where it had gone. I had a couple of boxes of spare ammo for a .40 but none for Stanley's Ruger beyond his spare magazine. At first I had planned to go to Walmart to get some clothes but it seemed best to just pack a suitcase as fast as I could.

I parked Stanley's car a bit away from my apartment and shut the engine off. Instead of going strait in, I watched for several minutes. There was no movement and only a few of the other apartments had lights on. Most had probably gone to bed by now. Closing the car door as quietly as I could, I walked to the door of my apartment. At least the door was intact and it appeared that no one had been in there. Still, I had to figure out how I would get in there. Although plenty of other officers could do it, one of my skills was not picking locks. It was something I almost definitely had to learn. Maybe I could climb up[ the bricks and through a window.

Just in case, I tried the lock to my door. It was definitely locked and one of the reasons I had chosen this apartment complex was because of the stout doors. The buildings were a bit older than most and they seemed to know how to build them when these were constructed. It would be hard enough to break through with a police ram. Not really knowing why, I slammed myself once against the door.

There was a cracking sound and the deadbolt broke through the reinforcements in the door frame. The door was also badly cracked around the lock. Many stories told of vampires being massively strong. Obviously, it would take me while to learn what I could and could not do. Sliding into my apartment, I pushed the door closed and hoped than nobody would notice that the door was broken. As well, I was a bit concerned that someone might have heard the cracking sounds but I did not hear any movement.

My apartment was a single bedroom. The rent was reasonable and I had not needed anything larger. Unfortunately, I had been working so many hours that I had not had time to clean up. The apartment was a mess although at least the dishes were in the dish washer.

Looking towards the bathroom, I longed for a shower although I knew I could not risk it. It would take too long and someone might hear the water running. First step was the safe. I could do nothing without money. The credit card was only useful as a last resort. I would have to find another source of money. Not bothering to turn on the lights, I went to where I kept the safe hidden in the hallway closet. Steadily, I turned the dial on my safe and opened it up. Nothing had been disturbed inside.

It did not hit me until then. The best explanation would be a delayed stress reaction. I was wearing the cloths of a man who I had murdered. Someone who seemed to have been a good man. Feeling extremely sick, I ran for the toilet in my tiny bathroom. My head in the bowl, I tried to throw up for several minutes. They were dry heaves only. What had happened to Stanley's blood, I did not know. Unsteady on my feet, I stood up. It seemed to take several minutes but I finally got my balance back.

I would not wear his clothes a moment longer. In an effort to get his cloths off, I virtually shredded then and the tattered remains laid in a heap on the floor. It was only then I noted that my nails had both gotten longer and sharper. I had always kept them barely longer than my finger tips. They were almost claws now and almost half an inch long and much thicker. For a few moments, I stood there completely naked. Still, there was little time and I headed into my bedroom.

Once in my bedroom, I began deciding what to wear. My own underwear was a luxury and having the support of bra was nice change as well from wearing just Stanley's tee-shirt. Never having been at the peak of fashion, I grabbed a set of black jeans from my closet along with a black blouse. Polyester, not silk. I had never seen the need to spend the huge amounts of money for silk. I also grabbed my leather jacket and tossed it on my bed along with sliding on a pair of dressy low heeled leather boots. These cloths felt much better than Stanley's and I finally had some shoes on.

There was an old purse which I had kept in the closest. The cash and the credit card went in their besides my old expired drivers licence. Somehow, I would need to get some kind of fake licence. A while back, I had bought a holster I have never really liked. That I bought out as well and put Stanley's Ruger in. The holster got slipped back into the small of my back. At least it was no longer bare steel against my back.

All I would need to do now was to pack a suitcase. I went to grab an old beat up one but felt my backpack which I kept up there. I sometimes used it for day hiking in the mountains. A backpack would be easier to carry and more common among people living on the streets. I began tossing some cloths in it. Underwear was a must and I threw in as many as I thought I could carry. After that, more jeans, a single skirt, some tee-shirts, and some blouses. On top, I put a set of battered sneakers.

One item I would need to get would be some makeup. I never wore much in the way of makeup and if I used is liberally, I might be able to disguise myself. None of the makeup I had in my cabinet would likely work for what I was thinking of. It would be a good idea to change my hair color as well. Mine was a light brown which usually wore in a pony tail. I had worn a curly blond wig when I had posed as a prostitute and it had changed my appearance almost completely. Not recognizing me, I had even once had a city worker who I knew try and solicit me. He had almost been a friend before and you can guess what my arresting did to our relationship. Mulling over what I would change my hair to, I stepped out of my apartment. Chances are, I would never see it again. At least I had not kept any pets.


There was a drug store which was open twenty-four hours a day as well as Walmart being open. Most tales told that vampires could not stand sunlight so I probably needed to get everything done before dawn. There were a few cheap hotels along the strip which I could probably hide during the day under a fake name. Many were used by whore and junkies and hopefully I could pass unnoticed. Of course many of the whores were junkies as well. It was an extremely sad life.

In the end I decided on Walmart because there would likely be more people and I was less likely to be remembered. This was not the Walmart I usually went to and I had only been here once before almost eight months prior. By now, a good chunk of the staff would likely have turned over and it was extremely unlikely that anyone would remember me.

It was too bad that you could not buy ammo at this time of night but even if the sporting goods section was open, I would need some form of I.D to buy bullets. As well, within a few hours there would be an APB out for Stanley's car and I did not have time to waste. I needed to figure out where to leave it where it would not be noticed for a while. Unfortunately, it would be too far to walk from here to the strip where the motels were at.

While there were plenty of parking spots near the store itself, I decided to park a bit further out. This way, when I left the store, I could see if there were any police cars around it. If so, I could simply escape another way and call a cab from a nearby bar. There were several nearby to chose from and many of them stayed open late.

After the parking lot, the inside of the store was extremely bright. I blinked for several moments while I heard the greeter at the door tell me, "Welcome to Walmart."Like many of the greeters, this person was older, maybe mid sixties and his hair had turned completely white. This was the first person who I had seen this close since Stanley and I could feel the blood flowing through this old man's arteries and veins. No need for it grabbed control of me but it was definitely something to be careful of. He looked at me cautiously for several moments but did not say anything further to me. I held up my hand in a partial wave.

There were a few people wandering around the store but none appeared to pay me any attention. Not bothering with a cart, I headed for the cosmetics department. It was to the left hand side and was not real far from the doors. There were a couple of other women browsing through the department but the area was otherwise empty.

I saw my reflection in one of the mirrors in the cosmetic display section although I barely recognized myself at first. I had seen movies where vampires do not cast a reflection. I guess that part of the legend was wrong. Good thing or it would be extremely hard to brush my hair. After I got over the shock of what I looked like, I looked at myself more carefully. Maybe my skin had been a little paler that it should from lack of sun, but my skin had always had a pinkish glow to it. Now, the the face which looked at me in the mirror was virtually white. My eyes had been a pale brown but now they were almost black. No wonder the greeter had looked at me so suspiciously. I opened my mouth and looked carefully at my canines. My teeth were a bright white I had never been able to achieve. The canines were definitely longer although they did not appear so long that I would have trouble hiding them or have trouble talking. They had felt longer when I had bitten poor Stanley. Perhaps they extended.

The flesh tones which I had worn in the past were definitely out. Instead, I searched and found the brightest red lipstick which I could find. Looking some more, I selected a dark blue eyeshadow and a dark mascara. The only times I had worn makeup like this was when I was working undercover as a decoy. If it made me look like a tramp, so much the better.

I had considered going blond before but instead decided on black hair. If I went with a totally different cut than the way I had it, combined with the extremely pale skin, it would be likely no one would recognize me. To hide my much longer nails, I grabbed some bright red nail polish. I rarely wore perfume and I grabbed a bottle of one almost at random. It was not one I had worn before so should not remind anyone of me.

It was questionable if the hotel would have soap and shampoo, so it would be best if I got some while I was here. The soap and shampoos were kept just a few isles from the makeup and I was able to grab my favorite brands. Hair spray, deodorant, toothpaste, hair brush, comb, and a new toothbrush would be needed as well so I picked them up as well. While here, I also grabbed scissors so I could trim my hair. Maybe short and straight would be the best.

Items in hand, I headed for the self serve checkout registers. I figured that the less people I had to deal with the better. By now, I realized that I should have just gone ahead and gotten a cart for all the stuff I had picked up. If I was not careful, I would probably drop everything. Just as I got to the conveyor belt, I did drop everything with a loud thud. The woman watching the self serve registers turned to me for a moment but just shook her hair and it looked like she just went back to reading her magazine.


'Ding-Ding,' I rang the bell in front of the desk clerk. It was getting around four in the morning. There was a thick sheet of plexi-glass to protect the clerk. It did not really look bullet proof to me but it was possible that I was wrong. A middle aged black woman looked up from a tiny television. She appeared to have been engrossed in whatever was on and had not even heard me come in. While I was curious about what she was watching, I did not care enough to actually ask her directly. From the conversation on the television, she appeared to be watch some kind tabloid talk show like 'Jerry Springer.'

"I need a room," I stated flatly

"That will be forty dollars," she answered. Out of my battered purse, I pulled two twenties, careful not to show her that I had anymore. The 'Sand Dollar' hotel was on the edge of the strip and was not quite as seedy as some others. From what I had heard, this hotel was one of the cleaner ones. She passed me a register card and asked "Do you have a car." I shook my head.

I had left the Honda about a dozen blocks away in front of a set of projects and had walked here. These projects were a known hangout for drug dealers and gang members. Stolen property was found every time a raid had been performed on one of the houses and there was a murder there every couple of weeks, sometimes more often. Even so, at three in the morning most of the bad elements had gone to bed for the day. It was probably best because if they saw a white girl in their neighborhood, it could have been an extremely tense situation. Having to shoot one of them was not what I wanted to do. Still, if the car was not stripped before the cops found it, they would probably assume one of the lowlifes living there had stolen it. As a result, it was worth the risk.

She did not ask me for any I.D. as I signed the register card as "Jane Smith" and made up an address. As well, she did not even look at it as I passed the registration card back to her. It was simply stuck in her file box. The woman handed me a battered plastic square with the number seventeen painted on it.

"I don't want anyone bothering me during the day," I told her.

Something in her reaction seemed off when she responded, "I will make sure nobody bothers you." I expected more a less a grunt but her words came out as almost an oath.

As I stepped out of the lobby, she went back to her television, seeming to forget all about me. Outside, the name Sand Dollar Hotel were well lit up and underneath in neon were the words Vacancy. Even though I walked slowly towards my room, it took only around a minute to reach it. Putting the key in the door, I turned the handle and stepped inside.

The air in the room was almost as cold as outside and smelled stale. Looking around, I could see that the room was not the worst I had seen but far from what I would have preferred. I quickly locked the door behind me and perused the inside. It was slightly dusty but I had seen worse. On a table next to the door was a 'Do Not Disturb' sign. Unlocking the door, I put the sign of the outside handle. Relocking the door behind me, I went to check the bed. The sheets were clean but it was obvious that they were far from new. Still, it should do as a place to hide during the day.

There were a couple of hours until daybreak and I desperately wanted to get cleaned up. It seemed best if I would wait until the evening to cut and dye my hair. Still, a hot bath would feel wonderful. Stepping into the bathroom, it appeared fairly clean although there were rust and hard water stains around the faucet. Like the bed sheets, the towels were clean but were obviously worn. I turned the water to as hot as I thought I could stand and pulled the soap and shampoo from the Walmart bag. Laying the pistol on the toilet seat, I began stripping out of my cloths. I did not want the weapon too far from me. The black jeans and other clothes I left in a pile on the floor.

When the tub was full, I lowered myself blissfully into the tub. The heat felt like it soaked into every pour of my body. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to relax for the first time since I had woken up. I had many question which I would need to come up with answers for. Just a few days ago, I would have told anyone that vampires did not exist now I was one. Was I am monster who deserved to die or something else? Did I still have a soul? Since I had escaped my father, I had lost any faith which I might have had originally. Maybe there was something but I knew the Mormon church did not hold the answers.


Evening had come and I crawled out from the covers which I had wrapped myself in. The sunlight was no longer blinding when I poked my head out. The curtains were thick enough that I was protected from the direct rays of the sun but even so, the light which had managed to leak through was enough to almost blind me before I had completely wrapped myself in the blankets. I had fallen asleep in the warm tub and had not woken up until the sun had begun to force its way into my room. In defense, I had hidden under the blankets, trying to escape the sun. At least no one had bothered me during the day. At least the blankets did not trigger the panic reaction which enclosed spaces usually trigger.

I got up slowly, pulling the Ruger from under the pillow where I had hidden it. I was dressed in only a bra and panties while I sat on the bed and tried to get my thoughts together. There was much I had to do today. During the day, something had been resolved inside myself. I had been a Cop. Cops were predators as much as the criminals we went after. It was just that we chose our targets more carefully. We hunted those who broke societies laws. I could chose to be like the vampire who made me what I was or I could hunt those who preyed on society.

The first thing to do would be the image revision which I had been planning the previous morning. While changing my hair and going a lot heavier on my makeup were the most important factors, I needed to consider cloths as well. While not uncommon, it was possible another officer would recognize what I normally wore and become suspicious. There were some shops in malls which were open late which I could go to get a new wardrobe. What I was looking was certainly not available at Walmart.

Casually, I turned on the tint beat up television as I passed it. Setting it to a local news channel, the first thing I heard was "Investigators will not confirm the cause of death but security officer Stanley Marshall was killed sometime last night or early morning in the city morgue. He was found when an ambulance brought a body in. The police do report that the body of murdered police officer Emily Rose has been taken from the morgue. She is believed to have been killed early on Friday morning. It is believed that she was killed by the same slasher who is blamed for the murder of multiple prostitutes. Police refused to comment about exactly what happened to the female officer. The police are asking for any information regarding this case." The woman on the television went onto the next news item which was about a suspicious fire.

Going into the bathroom, I carefully cut my hair short, a few snips at a time. When I had lived with my father, we had never had money for hair cuts with his three wives and multiple children. As a result, I had learned how to trim my sister's hair. Thinking about that made me hope that they had managed to escape my father's clutches. When I had finished, my hair was much shorter and was in a pageboy style cut. One of my sisters had worn her hair in just this style. Unfortunately, I had never done before was to dye my hair and I followed the directions as exactly as possible. It was not too hard and it looked pretty good when I was done. The red lipstick, the dark blue eye shadow, and thick mascara completed my new image. Looking in the mirror, I could barely recognize the pale skinned woman who stared back at me. It should do quite well. The only left to do was to paint my nails. The red polish did a good job of hiding how thick they had become and I only really had to be concerned with a careful examination.

One problem was a lack of money. I had only kept two hundred dollars in the safe and I had spent almost half of it between Walmart and the hotel room. I only had money enough to stay for a couple of more days and I did not want to risk using the credit card. The credit card would be too easy to trace. There were only a few ways which I could get money and most I was not willing to do. That pretty much left stealing it. There were many who survived off the misery of others. Drug dealers, pimps, and others. Many of them I could not touch as a police officer. It had always bothered me but I no longer had to just watch them.

The black jeans were still laying on the floor of the bathroom and I slid them on. It was time to go out. My plan was just to leave the key on the table and leaving the door unlocked. There was no reason to stay here another day. I stowed everything I was keeping in the battered backpack and swept my hair clippings into one of the Walmart bags along with all my other garbage. The idea was to leave as few traces of myself as possible. I planned to ditch the plastic bags a few blocks away in a dumpster.


I walked down the strip and watched the action go down. It was cloudy and sprinkling slightly. The cold and damp penetrated my cloths but it did not seem to effect me. The night was extremely bright to my new eyes and I could see figures in the shadows as well as on the streets themselves. Prostitutes propositioned drivers who stopped beside them. These women knew the risks. This vampire was not the first who stalked the prostitutes of Seattle. I did not recognize any of the women as other officers. It was possible that after I was killed that they decided to suspend using police decoys.

Looking around, I could see no one who fit what I was looking for. I would spill no innocent blood again. Many of the Johns were just men looking for a woman to spend a few hours with. Some were cheating on their wives but that was hardly a sin worth killing over. Most of the women walking the streets were more sinned against than sinned themselves. Junkies committed crimes to feed their habit but they too were victims as well. For tonight, at least, I would leave them alone.

That left the drug dealers and the pimps. Both would have more money than any of the others and they were the most stained with blood. Most carried rolls of cash which would be virtually impossible to trace if I was careful. The problem is that none seemed to be in a location where others could not see them as well. I wanted to find one who was by himself. While walking, I had been arguing with myself if I should try and drink their blood. One moment, I would be against the idea and in the next it seemed like a good idea. There was no real hunger inside me but I had a feeling that eventually the hunger would consume me again. Still, should I take this next step?

I was nearing the end of what was generally considered the strip. There was a figure I recognized then. It was a low life named Tony Wagner. He was a drug dealer who mostly sold Meth. While he had been arrested at least half a dozen times, he always knew who to squeal on to get out of serving time. In truth, Tony was just as bad if not worse than any of the people he had squealed on. Unlike most of the dealers on the strip, he was a white guy and was balding although he took pains to hide it. Like most of the dealers, he was known to around armed. The rumor was that he was not above a little bit of trade. Perhaps I could lure him somewhere a little quieter. Never having any personal contact with him, he should not recognize me.

Slowing my walk a little bit and trying to make myself look a bit shaky, I went over to where he was standing. When I got within a couple of dozen feet of him, his eyes looked onto me. Through my hooded eyes, I could see a faint smile on his lips as he evaluated me. His body posture indicated that he did not see me as a threat. "White girl, what brings you out on a night like this," he asked.

"I...I need some stuff. I am hurting bad," I answered, raising my hand shaking. My eyes locked with his blue ones and I added "I am a little short but perhaps you will take some trade?" The dialog seemed a bit contrived to me but it was all I could think to say.

Drug dealers were cautious by nature but he seemed to eat up what I was saying. I had expected him to be skeptical at first. I had seen in vampire movies them being able to control others with their eyes. First the Hotel Clerk and now Tony. Perhaps this was one of the abilities I had gained. "Sure, Baby," came his answer.

With my eyes, I motioned to the alley behind us and his smile grew just a bit. "You must be hurting real bad. You are going to show me how bad you want it, aren't you?" He waves a small baggy put pulled it away before he thought I could grab it. I nodded back to me as he led me back into the alleyway. "I am sure I can find some work for you," he added just as we reached a pile of pallets.

I allowed him to push me against the pallets, one arm grabbing the back of my neck while the other grabbing for the top button of my jeans. I could hear his breathing get slightly husky and he stated, "We will have great fun partying."

That was when I struck. Grabbing him by his own throat and chin, I lifted him into the air. My hand around his throat prevented him from yelling. While he was slightly larger than I was, I found he weighed almost like a doll in my arms. He released my neck and began to grab at my arm, fighting for me to drop him. The sickly sweet feeling of fear rolled over me and I could not help but enjoy it. There was something sensual about it. Something was changing and it seemed like my canines had grown longer. Still, I felt in control of myself unlike with Stanley. I smiles back at him to reveal my newly enlarged canines.

He blanched in here but he still attempted to reach of his gun at this rate. It was a cheap as shit three eighty automatic from the looks of it. My other hand knocked the gun from his grasp almost negligibly. It was like he had been moving in slow motion.

"Well, Tony. I guess you though that all the times you ratted out your fellow scum would protect you." I pushed him against a brick wall as I spoke. His head made a loud thunk and he appeared dazed. He was still fighting me but I could feel him growing weaker in his struggles. Squeezing harder, I felt his windpipe break Letting go of his neck, I allowed him to drop to the ground. I wanted to feed so bad but in the end I resisted. It would be a test of my self control to avoid feeding. The next one might not be so lucky. There was the sensation of dying coming from him. Suddenly all I could feel from him was emptiness.

Reaching into his front pants pocket, I pulled out his roll of bills. While I did not know how much it was, it looked substantial. The top bills was a twenties but the one right under it appeared to be a one hundred dollar bill. I stuck the roll in my purse and did not look back.


By Kitsune (E-Mail Kitsune).

Copyright © 2007, Kitsune. All rights reserved.


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