Young Writers Society

Becca stood behind her grandad, combing his surprisingly thick, white hair as he sat silently in his chair flicking through his five TV channels. His box got all the channels but he ‘didn’t trust’ any channel beyond five. He’d managed just fine with those channels back in the day, he was fine with them now.

He stopped at the morning news updates and Becca’s stomach flipped when she read the scrolling headline. ‘Breaking News: Vampires, they’re out there!’ The media was inundated with more and more cases of vampires. When a few celebrity heartthrobs were outed as being fanged, it had seemed to curb the haters. And had also led to an onslaught of new memes. These ones comparing ‘outed’ vampire actors to other actors and band members that ‘suspiciously’ hadn’t aged in the last decade.

Ezra had told her and Gabriel to stay away from each other. She understood his reasons, of course, but she couldn’t help sucking her teeth to contain her annoyance. They had only just gotten back together. And now that Gabriel was no longer weighed down by his secret, things had been going great. It wasn’t until Maeve had camped outside her bedroom one night – well equipped with a sleeping bag and midnight snacks, to make sure she didn’t sneak out to see him – when she realised how oddly unfazed she was by the fact that her boyfriend drank blood and had been dead for over a hundred years.

But despite Maeve’s disapproval, Gabriel was a big part of her life, and the sooner everyone accepted that, the better.

With that in mind, she cleared her throat and tested the waters. “So, what do you think of all this, Grandad?”

Her grandad huffed a laugh and grumbled, “One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach: all the damn vampires.”

Becca smiled, holding a section of his hair from his scalp so she could painlessly untangle a knot. She guessed the reality that they now found themselves in wasn’t so far from the films he watched and memorised. It was actually quite a relief he was getting more and more absorbed into the land of make believe. Maybe he was safer there.

She finished combing, smoothed his hair behind his ears, and planted a soft kiss on the top of his head.

“The vampires don’t scare you?” she asked.

He scoffed. “Those biker boys? Bunch of fancy lads, they are.”

“You don’t think they’re evil?” She sat down on the dining chair pulled up beside his. On the screen there was a blurry CCTV image of a dark figure on a street, there one moment and gone the next. The video was then slowed down to show that the figure hadn’t vanished, but had instead darted out of shot at lightning fast speed. Becca then understood what Gabriel meant when he said he could run very fast.

“Evil?” her grandad scoffed again, which led to an onslaught of dry coughs and wheezes. Becca handed him his glass of water and he grateful glugged down a mouthful. “Hard to say what’s not evil these days,” he continued. “But can’t say these guys are much worse than us.”

It was a harrowing thought, but one Becca didn’t necessarily disagree with.

She heard the front door open and got to her feet. “Claudia’s here.”

Her grandad grumbled.

“Play nice,” she said, hearing the care nurse heading down the hallway. “I’ll be back to check on you after work.”

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With the curfew still very much ongoing, Ezra had approximately forty minutes between sundown and closing time to receive the monthly supply of animal blood from the butchers. The whole system was already heavily flawed.

But despite this new law making him feel like a pitbull forced to be muzzled and monitored simply for being a pitbull, he took the car and headed to the other side of the village with his stupid little coupons stuffed into his jeans pocket.

He parked around the corner and strolled down the empty high street. The butcher’s shutters were already halfway down, signalling to customers in a polite way that they were still open but to not enter while they were cleaning.

Ezra opened the door and ducked inside. Behind the counter, a stout man was wiping down the glass surfaces. He spotted Ezra and his lips formed a thin line.

“Can’t believe I’ve been dragged into this,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he turned and threw his cloth into a sink behind him.

“Sounds like you know why I’m here,” said Ezra, trying to sound as casual and non-confrontational as he could. Which he was finding more and more difficult with each passing night. This was not the village he called home anymore. These people were no longer neighbours, friends, even strangers. No, they were all his judge, jury and possible executioners.

Ezra stopped before the counter. All the leftover meats had been covered, waiting to be put away. The butcher – who he had served plenty of times at the pub and was pretty sure was named Lyle – placed his hands firmly on the lower part of the counter, leaned forward with squared shoulders and looked Ezra directly in the eyes. It was an attempt at a threatening stance, but then he seemed to remember that vampires could compel through close eye contact – something that had been discovered and broadcasted the week before. He then jerked back, his lip curled with content like Ezra had actually attempted to play with his mind.

Ezra clenched his jaw. They were always going to think the worst of them. Just like a pitbull.

“I have your blood,” said Lyle, taking another step back. “Got your coupons?”

Ezra pulled the silly things out of his pocket. They looked like ticket stubs. The three of them had received a row each. Four stubs to a row. Apparently, each stub should last them a week. How they figured that out, he didn’t know. Possibly from the vamps who were cooperating for freedom in return? Did that make them exempt from this stupid charade?

He slid all three rows onto the top of the glass display counter. “I’ll take them all.”

“You can’t do that.”

Ezra ran his tongue over his bottom teeth to suppress a groan of frustration. “What?”

Lyle nodded to the coupons. “You can only use yours. They have your name on them.” He fanned out the coupons and tapped on the row addressed to Mr. Ezra Garcia.

Ezra swiped a hand down his face. “But Gabriel and Lillian live with me. See, the same address. I’m picking them up for them, too, so they don’t have to deal with this shit.”

Lyle shrugged and grabbed his row of coupons, leaving the others behind. “I’m just following the rules. I’ll go get you your supply.”

The butcher headed into his back room, shoulders back and a swagger in his step. Ezra spun on his heel to face the door and let out an inaudible scream of irritation, before clearing his throat and fixing his face into an expressionless mask just in time for Lyle to return.

Swinging in his tight grip were four white plastic bags, two in each fist. He dropped them onto the counter top and they all lolled to the side. The bags were larger than Ezra had expected. He figured possibly at least six pints of blood in each.

“I’ve gotta ask-” said Lyle, folding his thick tree trunk arms across his chest, “How’d you manage it? To kid us all.”

Ezra started collecting the bags. “We’re not so different from you. Those depictions you see on TV, read about in books, that’s just fiction. This is just as much our world as it is yours, it’s time you realised that.”

The stubborn line in Lyle’s forehead softened. Ezra lifted the bags as if toasting a beer, and nodded his thanks before leaving, making sure to dodge the shutters.

By the time he returned home, both Lillian and Gabriel were stretched out on the sofas in the living room. Now neither of them really had anywhere to go, they had resorted to living in their comfy, housebound attire. Gabriel had swapped jeans and fitted jumpers for plaid pyjama trousers and a long-sleeved white t-shirt with moth holes around the collar. Lillian was dressed head to toe in pink flannel and was currently using her fluffy dressing down as a blanket.

She twisted her head awkwardly to look up at Ezra as he entered the room. His easy smile was met with a scowl. Breaking the news to her than she could no longer see Ben had not gone down well. Despite the precaution being for his own safety.

“Oh, it’s you,” she mumbled, slapping the cushion she was resting on before burrowing her head deeper into it and bringing her attention back to the TV.

“Who else would it be?” said Ezra, ignoring her icy tone.

“What’s that?”

Gabriel sat up and nodded to the freezer bag at Ezra’s feet.

“Just been to the butchers. It’s our new meal plan.”

Gabriel’s eyebrow quirked up and even Lillian shifted up into a sitting position and eyed up the bag.

“There’s only one bottle left in the fridge,” she said, “of the real stuff.”

Ezra grabbed the bag and made his way to the kitchen. “Well, let’s hope this stuff is as good.”

He heard shuffling feet across the wood flooring and didn’t need to look back to know the two of them were following.

Inside each white plastic bag was another, thicker plastic bag that contained the blood. Without needing to ask, Gabriel took the empty glass bottles from under the sink and placed them on the table. Getting the blood from the bags into the bottles was an awkward ordeal, but between the three of them, they succeeded with the transfer without spilling much.

“This is for all of us?” asked Gabriel.

“Apparently, you guys have to go yourselves to get your share. But we can all use this ‘til we run out and then grab yours. Easier to just do it that way,” Ezra explained. “And I think it’ll be a good idea to move to this now and keep the bottle of real stuff in the fridge for back up in case of an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Lillian had picked up one of the new bottles and was inspecting in warily.

What kind of emergency? Ezra didn’t want to find out.

She lifted it to her nose and sniffed. Her fangs sprung free with their tinny click and a surprised oop escaped her.

Gabriel laughed softly. “Well, that’s a good sign.”

Ezra smiled at his progeny, who was gazing up at him with that cheeky glimmer in her eyes he had always loved. He crossed to the cabinet and grabbed three mugs. “Guess we’d better sample this stuff, eh?”

Both Gabriel and Lillian took their seats at the dining table and watched while Ezra grabbed a saucepan and heated up some of the animal blood. A silence fell between them. It almost felt like some sort of ceremony, or ritual.

Ezra stirred the blood, watching it stain the wooden spoon. The smell grew thicker and headier as it warmed and soon his fangs were also trying to force themselves free. The pressure against his gums was welcomed. Gabriel was right, it was a good sign. It meant his hunger was reacting. It meant his body yearned for this blood just like it did with human blood. Maybe the humans were onto something?

He poured the blood into the three mugs and brought them over to the table. He slid into the chair beside Lillian and they all sat there in silence, looking down at their drinks. Gabriel’s top lip twitched and his fangs popped free. The sound triggered Ezra’s to finally unsheathe.

Lillian, the youngest of the three and so less able to resist her hunger, was first to pick up her mug and lift it to her lips. Ezra and Gabriel both watched her drink. Ezra gulped when she gulped, as if he were somehow drinking it with her. Fear fluttered in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure why. It was just animal blood. He’d heard of vampires drinking it before. But never had they been forced to drink it. To live off it.

What if she couldn’t stand it? What would that mean for her?

She settled the mug back on the table. Her eyes flickered between the two of them. A delicate smile played on her lips.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

“What’s it like?” The mix of nerves and excitement in Gabriel’s voice made Ezra’s fearful flutters worsen.

“Try it.”

Both Gabriel and Ezra picked up their mugs, locked eyes and drank. Whatever happens, happens.

The hot, thick liquid slid down Ezra’s throat. His eyes closed as he basked in the sensation. It wasn’t as sweet. Not as rich. But it hit the spot.

He placed his mug down and leaned back in his chair. Gabriel still held his mug at his chin, his eyes on Ezra.

Ezra shrugged casually, “It actually isn’t bad.”

Both Lillian and Gabriel grinned at him, their teeth stained a wicked red.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.