Within My Blood (Chapter 2)

A/N:  This is the full chapter, I know it's a little long but I can really use all the feedback I can get. Thanks loves. 

A blue van pulled away from the curb, engine rattling. Just as it arrived, no one saw it leave. In-fact, for the most part, the van had gone relatively unnoticed. That’s exactly how they wanted it. Just like everything else in their life, the van was specifically chosen to not draw attention. Attention is the devil’s advocate -or so Lazarus would say- it’s better to blend in then to stick out. The van had been parked at the end of a quiet street in front of an even quieter home since three that morning. However, unlike its outwards appearance, the inside of it had been completely transformed. It resembled what can only be described as a prison on wheels. There was a thin chain-link barrier separating the two seats at the front from the back which sat an empty cavern with barred windows and metal rings welded to the floor.

An elderly woman lay on the ripped carpet of the van now, her hands tied crisscrossed over each other. Rope snaked around each of her frail wrists until it joined and knotted around one of the metal rings. Her nightgown bunched itself underneath her thighs, exposing her lower leg and she tried to wiggle her body down to fix it. Her head throbbed and she knew that her hair was getting crusty with dried blood. She started to cry, the warm tears rolling down her cheeks. Ann whimpered, flexing her muscles underneath the heaviness of the ropes.

Her nightgown bunched again and the exposed uncomfortable feeling made its way back into the core of her stomach. Ann was tired; they had injected something into her neck when they jumped her from behind and its effects were starting to settle into her body. Struggling against the drugs Ann tried to keep her eyes open even though her eyelids grew so heavy. The heaviness of her lashes weighing her down. Her breathing slowed. She didn’t think she could keep herself awake any longer. 

He stood there in the middle of the courtyard, sweating like a beast despite the bitter cold. He gripped the butt of the rifle with both hands and started to violently shake. People were screaming. Others cried. Most of them tried to run but realized too late that they were trapped. Somewhere, from far off Jasper could hear the shouts from the security guards telling him to put the gun down. But they were only voices to him, whispering in through one ear and yelling out the other.

There was someone coming up behind him, he could feel their presence, the same way most could feel eyes on the back of their head. With one swift turn he raised the rifle, coming face to face with an average girl. She had her hands up in the air and her eyes spoke the words 'don't shoot.’ He could see her hands shake a little as she continued to stand in front of him, but she didn’t seem to have any intentions of moving.

“Get out of the way bitch. I will fucking shoot you.” Jasper spat, he pushed the end of the barrel into her shoulder with so much force it knocked her down to the ground.

He watched her get up, brush the dirt from the butt of her jeans and take a step closer towards him. “You’re not going to scare me off that easily.”

“I swear to fucking God bitch, I will shoot you, get back with the others.”

“Then do it.”

Jasper stopped, a little taken aback. He didn’t expect this and in turn he took a second glance at the girl who now stood with her forehead pressed to the barrel of his gun. She had auburn hair tied up in a loose bun and her eyes were grey and it felt as if they were staring straight through him.

“Do it,” she said, “I dare you.”

Jasper lowered the gun, confused. “Why do you want me to shoot you?” His eyes narrowed as he continued to look her up and down.

“I don’t.”

“Then why did you-”

The girl smiled, it was a nervous smile but there was something behind that nervousness. Almost as if she knew he didn’t have the balls to follow through. Slowly she reached her hand up just enough to touch his shoulder and then she leaned forward on tiptoes until her face was directly next to his.

“Because I know you can’t, no matter how much someone pleads or irritates you, you just can’t. That’s why. You see, you think you have what it takes, but you don’t.” He could hear her every breath, feel the air leave her lungs and brush the nape of his neck and he just stood there. Paralyzed. “Put the gun down, please,” she whispered.

Christian Wolff sat in the front seat of his father’s van tapping his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. The low hum of the vehicle rumbled around him and he continued tapping, waiting for the light in front of him to turn green. This was the first time he had gone on a run and while everything went as seamlessly as it could have, the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. He quickly looked back in the mirror, his heart thumping against his chest. The older woman was still there. From the looks of it the medicine his brother gave her seemed to have kicked in. She was quiet and her side rose and fell with every breath. He looked back at the light, still red. The nervous tapping began again.

“Cut it out will ya, you’re making me jumpy just watchin’ you.” The passenger said sharply, jabbing a finger into Christian’s side.

“Sorry. I just can’t believe I did that. Or helped you do that. Did I do that? It just feels so-”

“Surreal?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the word. It’s just so different. I’m used to you and Oli going out, not me.”

Christian’s brother laughed, his voice booming on the walls of the van. He poked his brother's side again causing him to jump slightly before ruffling his hair. “Come on little brother, you’ll get used ta it don’t ya worry.”

Looking behind him again Christian shook his head. He tried to shake off the nausea that started to water his mouth.

“Besides look at it this way,” his brother continued “we are just huntin’. Ya do it all the time with pops, it ain’t any different now.”

“But it is different. I mean, with pops we hunt deer not people. We aren’t hunting this time to feed everyone, we’re doing it for-”

“Fun?”

“Yeah.”

Christian’s brother laughed again. He seemed too careless while Christian was beyond worried that somehow they were going to get caught. He remembered always wanting to go on a blood run when he was younger but now that he was actually doing it something changed inside him.

“Look. I get that you’re not used ta this yet, but come on. You participate so willin’ly back home when me and Oli do all the grunt work. So stop ya complaninin’ and get ya hands a little dirty.”

Christian looked over at his brother who returned his gaze with raised eyebrows and a loose grin. He knew that his brother was right, hell he always was, but something just kept eating away at him. It seemed too easy today.

“What about that girl that saw us Xander? Do you really think that when they find out this lady is missing she wont start pointing fingers.”

“Ya worry too much little brother. Let’s just get back to the family and let Father and I worry about all the little details alright.”

Christian pursed his lips, he still didn’t seem too comfortable but he knew there was no use in arguing with Alexander. He was just as stubborn as the rest of his family. They continued the drive home in silence. Occasionally Christian would glance behind him afraid that somehow the lady would disappear but she was always there, tied down and out cold.

The only light coming from the motel streamed out through the service door that led to the kitchen. Ellie stood over the stove top turning her chicken. It was a delicate process to keep the lightly battered strips from burning but she was willing to take the time. Ellie took pride in her cooking. It was what she was good at. The sweet aroma of the honey glaze she had simmering on the back burner put a smile on her face. It smelled like her childhood. Her mind drifted as her body went on auto-drive as the repetition of the meal came so naturally. She remembered standing beside her mother as a little girl stirring the glaze while her mother sung soft hymns over the frying pan. Ellie had hoped to pass the tradition down to her own daughters but after they grew old enough to think for themselves they fell more in step with their father then they did her. She was the odd one out.

It was a beautiful night outside and Ellie found herself humming those old hymns to herself. The soft melody vibrating in her chest, reminding her of the magic she always felt as a little girl. Turning the chicken again Ellie looked up to the clock, 6:45, it was almost dinner and none of her children were anywhere to be found. Almost as if on cue the crunch of gravel flooded the quietness of the night. Ellie smiled, her sons were home. Good. She turned the range off and moved the chicken onto a plate, setting it on the kitchen table before she headed outside to greet her boys.

“I was wondering what was taking you two so long” She called as she wiped her hands on the bottom of her apron. “Dinner is just about done, why don’t you two go inside and-”

Her voice trailed off as Ellie watched her youngest son drag an older woman from the back of the family van. She stood frozen for about a second before instinct took over. Hustling to his side Ellie grabbed the woman’s other arm and shifted half of the weight off her son’s shoulder. They worked quickly to get her into the kitchen while her older son grabbed the bleach and headed back outside. She didn’t think they were bringing anyone home tonight. It wasn’t planned which meant her husband would have a few million words to say when he came back in from the errand he went to run. 

The two of them continued to shuffle their way into the motel, their heavy breathing in sync. Once inside Ellie let go of the women to grab the key to the basement. The door creaking as she unlocked it and propped it open with the back of a chair. When it was secure enough to not close behind them she took her place on the other side of the woman again. They started to make their way down the basement steps just as Ellie’s older son shoved his way into the kitchen. She could hear him muttering things under his breath as he tossed the bleach rag in the sink. When Lazarus got home there was definitely going to be a scene if he kept this attitude up.

“Mom, I’m sorry we brought her home,” huffed the son by her side.

She looked at him, his face beaded with sweat and she sighed. This wasn’t the kind of life for people like him. His older brothers were fine but not her sweet baby boy. He was too soft hearted and moral. Eventually Ellie knew this lifestyle would kill what was good inside him and she resented it.

“It’s ok my dear, let’s just get her strapped in and then we can worry about all the details later.”

“Yeah but what about Pops, he’s not going to be very happy when he sees her. I tried talking Xander out of it but he wouldn’t listen.”

“You’re brother is reckless dear. Now don’t worry about your father, I’ll talk to him.”

“But-”

“Christian please.” Ellie shot her son a quick glance as they reached the bottom step. “That’s enough, now help me get this woman into the chair and let the subject rest. Your father will take care of her and I will talk to him about the situation.”

Ellie flipped the switch next to the staircase and let her eyes adjust to the soft light that filled the room. The basement was smaller than one would imagine for a motel this size but it was still large enough to suit the family needs. A couple years back they had a rather harsh storm that flooded the small room which left it with the ever growing mildew smell that hit Ellie now. She shivered slightly. Ellie used to come down here a lot, at one point she even had a small sewing corner but over the years the space grew colder and less inviting. Now whenever she managed to muster her way down the steps the dark chill of death crept up her spine.

Together Ellie and Christian pulled the woman into the metal chair that sat bolted to the ground in the middle of the basement. Her head flopped back exposing her face. Ellie looked at her, hints of recognition moving across her face. She knew this woman but couldn’t place her name. She watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as Christian worked at fastening the straps around the woman’s arms and legs. Ellie couldn’t remember the first person they brought down here. Not anymore. There had been more lives taken in this small underground room then she even cared to count. Sometimes she wished her husband would just give up this hobby of his but then she would remember his father and his father’s father and remind herself that some hobbies are just traditions passed down and altered over time. The human mind is a terrifyingly dark place she thought to herself as she went to grab the gag off the work table that lined the wall.

Twenty-seven years of marriage taught her to shove the darkness to the back of her conscience and while she rummaged through the tools scattered across the table she did just that. Soon the woman would no longer be an issue, just another name in a very large book. By the time she walked back over to Christian he had already secured every strap and checked them two times over. They couldn’t be lazy. Everything had to be right.

“Christian,” Ellie said, handing him the gag, “when you’re done here please wash up and take your seat at the table. You know how your father gets when you’re late for dinner.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ellie turned and started to make her way up the stairs. About half way up she looked back and let another sigh escape. Her son looked just like his father, his broad stature looming over the unconscious woman and she feared that his morality was slipping a lot faster than she initially thought.

“How tragic” She whispered to herself as she turned around and left the darkness behind her.