A tale of a paladin who is undead

Due to lack of interest on both the internet and myself this is being discontinued. Thank you if you have been reading anyways.

Chapter 9: Decent

“Blood, blood! I need blood!” Francine shrieked at the top of her lungs, “Please, hurry, hurry.”

“Its coming my dear,” Ronald replied as he eyed the tube stuck in his wrist, “Its coming, please calm down.”

“Look at me dammit!” Francine screamed, “Look at me.”

Indeed it was a sight Ronald wasn't surprised to see. The women before him looked terrible; her eyes had bags under them and they were bloodshot from the Red Bull she chugged down earlier to get her through the day with energy. She was disgustingly pale and starting to turn yellow, her breathing was heavy and labouring; she was slumped over a chair she had plopped in without thought. All this was the signs of anaemia, and he had to act fast to get his blood into her before she went blood crazy and bite him.

“I see you my dear,” Ronald replied simply, “Please Francine, I don't want to go though...”

“Just shut up and get me the blood!” she exclaimed with what energy she could muster. She began to cry at this point.

“Here,” Ronald held a plastic baggy loaded with his blood in it, “All the iron you can use.”

While he removed himself from the rig he watched Francine, greedily bite into the bag and start drinking the precious red liquid that was inside. He slumped into a nearby chair and breathed a little when she was done. He watched her walked into the fridge, fiddle around with a few items and approached him with a juice box and a pre-packaged sandwich.

“It isn't that I don't appreciate what you've done for me,” she merely said as she handed him the snack.

“I know, I know,” Ronald mechanically replied as he stabbed the juice box with the pre-sharpened straw.


“Lilith must be bringing food,” Francine exclaimed as she and Leana waited feverishly while looming over the fangbanger* that they coned into being strapped to a table to draw nourishment from.

“We have food here,” Leana replied simply, “Course, we could use more.”

When the elevator coming down finally stopped the door predictably slide open. Out from the elevator emerged Lilith, that boy Watts, and a third unknown woman. The three approached Francine and Leana, Lilith in the lead and the unknown female at the tail. The women eyed the unknown with hunger in their eyes while they awaited the draining of the current man whom was laying wearily in a dentist chair.

“Oh, ladies,” Lilith spoke to them as she approached, “Nice to see you there, and I see you've found a surrogate... lovely.” Lilith turned her attention further down the corridor past the room they were in.

“When will she be hooked up...” Leana tried to asked, only to be quickly cut with a stern “she's not food... oh eat up and we will talk when you're not blood-crazy.”

“Blood crazy?” the woman following asked in an odd tone.

“That you just saw Amanda,” Lilith replied quickly, “they were thinking of eating you, and they would have if not that poor bloke they likely lured here under promise of sex with a vamp... some things don't change.” Their voices trailed off down the corridor.

“W-what?” the man in the dentist chair struggled as he heard the callous voice of Lilith vibrating into the room. Francine held him down as Leana grabbed the bag with the blood in it and cut the tubes from the bag to his arm.

“Why don't you be thankful that we aren't ravaging your neck and making you an abomination, or just outright killing you?” Francine growled angrily as Leana handed her the bag. The two women bit into the bag and both fought over who got the most of the blood that was in the bag. The man watched over as he struggled to stay awake.

When they were done they turned to the fellow in the dentist chair and started to unstrap him. Once they were done Leana watched him over as he struggled to his feet while Francine briefly walked out of the room. The two eyed each other uneasily before Francine returned with a glass of orange juice and a ham sandwich.

“Here, eat this to get some of your strength back,” Francine requested as the man struggled for the straw.

“You have been such a good sport darling,” Leana spoke, “now, eat up and return to your room. We are feeling much, much better now.”


“What would you rather they do Amanda?” Lilith found herself in a heated argument as she tightly gripped Amanda's arm so she wouldn't race to that room with the two female vampires, “Would you sooner have them break into people's houses and eat them as they sleep? Cuz I've known some that do that... some stop bothering with a little thing called morality when they start to feel blood-crazy.”

“My god, to be in the same room as amoral monsters, the armies of the beast...” Amanda tried to retort, only for a piece of horrifying logic to set in; that she was one of them. Her eyes filled with horror as she looked Lilith in the eyes. “I... am I to become that? Such beasts and monsters?” She looked like she was to cry.

“Depends,” Lilith replied unfazed, “When was the last time you've drank blood?”

“Uh...” Amanda found herself going back to the events of two days ago when she had attacked and bit a farmer's dog out near one of the many family farms and rural villages in central Ontario. Her eyes sank into her feet, as the horror of what she is becoming was flowing over her in stronger waves.

“Have you ever drink blood before?” Lilith asked with an undertone of urgency.

“It was... two nights ago...” Amanda started to cry, “I'm a monster.”

“There isn't the body of some traveller out there, is there?” Lilith asked in a callous tone that is completely uncalled for.

“I found a farm... and...” She began to cry uncontrollably.

“And what Ms...” Watts cut her off with a stern look and a quick hush. He gently turned Amanda to face him and craned himself so that he was staring into her eyes. “What went at the farm?” Watts asked in his quick-tongued manner, “We got you, we ain't turning you to nobody.”

“Well, there were these dogs... they went at me and...” Amanda stuttered as she spoke. Watts cut her off with a quick “You ate a dog?”

Amanda nodded. Watts hugged her while Lilith rolled her eyes and snarled “A dog? You had me for a second, I thought you might have killed someone. Jezz.

“At any rate,” Lilith went on, her voice less cold this time, “the anaemia takes time... about four days to a week, depends on the person, at which point you will be craving blood. So, if you can avoid becoming severely anaemic you will keep your sanity.”

*Fangbanger in the True Blood sense of the term.

Chapter 8: Centralization

The short drive from the county road to Barrie lead to an older building in the centre of the down town, where it had seen better days long before the vampire outbreak. The building the van pulls up to had tarnished faux silver along the side of the grey brick work and was charmingly dubbed in large, tarnished chrome lettering “Roxx”* followed by smaller plastic writing under that reading “Boarding Hostile.” At this point Watts opened the van door and gestured Amanda to follow. The sun was climbing and Watts had pulled his hood further along his face than usual for a sweet spring day would allow. Watts approached the front door with Amanda and her sparkles following close behind, anxious and unsure.

“Where are we?” Amanda asked nervously.

Watts seemed to not notice her speak as he opened the door and gestured Amanda to follow him further. To which she did, and walked into a recently renovated space within. It was plainly done from what Amanda could tell, with this simple grey room acting like a reception of sorts, followed with a stairwell and elevator leading to a second story and basement, if the up and down arrows on the elevator panelling were any indication. There are halls that lead to a row of door that seem way too close to eachother to indicate that the rooms are any larger than closets.

At the small desk in the makeshift reception room was a harsh looking woman shuffling over some papers. Watts gently tapped on the desk, to which the woman lifted her head in response and smiled.

“Watts, my dear, your back,” the woman replied in a half-grin, “and I see you have company. Good job my boy.”

“Thanks ma'am,” Watts replied quickly, “she's from that fenced place near Orillia. Heard from the others?”

“Batsie checked in,” the woman replied, “she found a few lingering from the wood. They escaped the convoy from Toronto. Is she one of those?”

“No ma'am, she isn't,” Watts replied, “she was from the fenced place.”

“Kay-kay then,” the woman turned her attention to Amanda. “Your name, miss?” she simply asked.

“A...Amanda,” she stuttered her answer.

“Tickled pink,” the woman replied sarcastically, “Name's Lilith, and I run the network here in Simcoe and area... when not running the Roxx Boarding Hostile of course. The best in cheap accommodations within the city. Oh has such a market boomed since a little beauty called a curfew. Police suck in so many ways of the word, but whatever – if Watts brought you in you must now be eligible for our little society in the network.”

“The what?” Amanda asked in confusion.

“Poor girl all confuzzled?” Lilith replied in a torturous way, “the 'network' is just what we call the huddling and protection gang for vampires.”

Amanda hung her head. “You are a vampire, right?” Lilith asked quickly, “cuz if you're not, I would have to drain you, and then give Watts a good ol' flogging for being a dumbass.”

“Yeah,” Amanda replied quietly.

“... Can't hear you sweetheart,” Lilith became mocking and cruel.

“She ain't been a vamp long ma'am,” Watts quickly interjected, seeing the cruel eyes Lilith was giving to Amanda. “Besides,” Watts kept going, “her skin does something funny.”

“Oh, really now?” Lilith was intrigued. She held up a fistful of paper from her desk. “So there is some truth to this here leak thingy,” she waved it in Watts' face. She handed it to Watts who quickly scanned it. He looked back up at Lilith.

“Who sent it?” he asked her. “How should I know?” she replied quickly.

“What is it?” Amanda piped in with a look of worry on her face.

“Its a 'note' by Anon Ymous,” Lilith returned, “I found it on my desk in a brown envelope. I wonder if anyone peeked in it before I got in from break relieving Nina the night-girl.

“It's tells of a new breed of vampires: vampires that can walk in the daytime – daywalkers I guess. The papers seem to be from a bunch of scientists and it had this cute note that I guess was written by a guilt ridden Dr. A Ymous. I dismissed it as a joke by either Nina or Batsie or something – I mean it claims that this new breed of vampire sparkles under sunlight, which is fucking retarded Stephanie Meyer dross from the naughties.

“I mean, it can't be true! There can't be any sparkling twilipires roaming the streets of northern Ontario, I mean, it just sounds so...”

Lilith lost coherence when a wave of giggles came over her. Amanda and Watts started at her with absurdity trained upon her until her giggle-fit abruptly broke under the crack of reality.

“This shit is true, isn't it?” Lilith retreated vocally.

Amanda nodded. Lilith shook her head further. Amanda nodded and Lilith shook her head again with Amanda saying “Yeah, its kinda true, and... well, I'm like proof.”

Lilith banged her head against her desk. “I gather you came, Watty boy, to give Ms Cullen here a safe stay for the night and show the ropes of our secret gangy thingy,” she spoke with her face on the desk.

“Yes ma'am,” Watts replied.

“Mad science sucks,” she went on, “We have vampires because someone was being evil and stupid, and we have twilipires because someone else was being evil and stupid. This shit is here because of mad science being stupid and evil.”

“You know, if we just behaved morally and not in disgusting perversion we wouldn't have this problem,” Amanda added on smugly, “we are being punished for...”

“She's one of 'those' people ma'am,” Watts interrupted quickly.

“Ack, no worries Watts,” Lilith waved him off and refocused on Amanda, “I guess we are in disagreement as to whose evil and stupidity caused our problems, but we can agree on one thing: it was someone's evil and stupidity.”


“Do we have company upstairs?” One overly pale anaemic woman spoke to a second, while hovering over a man with a tanned complexion, sitting in an refurbished dentist's chair with tubes from his forearm to a clear bag with a red liquid inside of it.

“Of course she does: their called clients,” the second retorted, “There is enough poverty to fill the dead sea, and enough begging to afford them a closet here at the Roxx.”

“What if they come down here?” the first woman asked.

“They won't,” the second replied, “they will get a closet and sleep or something... or get bounced out for loitering and having no money.”

“Then why do I hear the elevator coming down?” the man asked sheepishly.

“Meh, it's friends likely,” the second woman merely responded.
*For your information, the “Roxx” is a nightclub located in modern day, shit hole, down-town Barrie, Ontario.

Chapter 7: Analysis

A testing facility of Banisters Inc, located north of Orillia, Ontario, was trapped in dull panic as preliminary research went into what the fuck went wrong with the experimental vaccine that was used on the subjects in block C. Dr. Green and his team had been instructed not to release any of their finding to the outside world in fear that their competitors would get a hold of the data and the company would lose government funding, become a public relations three-ring circus, and senior members of the company face jail time for taking the shortcuts. When word gets out that there is now a daywalking brand of vampire, and it will get out sooner or later, efforts must be in place so this mutation doesn't get traced back to them.

In the lab the scientists charged with overseeing the few subjects they still had, as well as the ones who were going over the data that had been collected from the subjects during their stay were being scrutinized heavily. The questions Benton wanted answered asap was if it was a temporary condition and if it can be spread to others through the usual means of transmission. This would help the company CEO determine his next course of action, and more importantly, if anyone needs to be thrown under the bus to protect his hide.

In an information meeting Dr. Green looked over the lab notes lesser scientists in an attempt to figure out just how screwed he was: for he could very well end up being the fall guy in all of this.

“Alright then,” Dr. Green's voice was tense and slow, with his eyes dark and wide from lack of sleep and heavier-than-usual dependance on cocaine. In the meeting room were his lab team, which did include Mansion, his assistant. Each scientist and lab tech looked tense and troubled, each not sure of what was to come and what was going on.

“We shall start with what we know of the subjects and of their conditions,” Dr. Green began, followed by select members of the scientific team droning in technobabble that simply concluded that the physical ailments, or lack thereof, was not responsible for the mutation of the rotolamia virus.

“Doctor,” Mansion points out, “could it be the simple fact that the serum was not only a weakened version of the virus, but an altered one rewriting parts of the genetic coding of the affects that rotolamia writes?”

“That is a possibility,” Dr. Green replies, “after all, RNA does have behaviour that is similar to DNA, and the serum was designed to rewrite human genetic material to make it resistant to rotolamia.” He looked at his shoes nervously. You see, active immunity trials and passive immunity trials have both been done and none of those serums worked: all those subjects simply were turned into vampires. It was hard to figure out how weak the virus had to be, and Banisters Inc was starting to lose their patience. They had to find something and prove to the Canadian Government that they did in fact find something to get extra funding, and in turn beat out the competition.

“From UV tests with the subjects we have found that they now glisten under the light, and, more importantly, are no longer harmed by the light,” Mansion continued onward, “while the sun can no longer harm them this will at least make the vampires more visible, and could improve finding them and such.”

“We already know this,” Dr. Green simply said, “though law enforcement could use that information, though I want to be clear: this stays secret for now, clear?”

There was an ominous and automatic nod from everyone in the room. Dr. Green kept talking. “Now, it is possible that it was caused by a genetic rewrite that was rewritten, and rewritten again, which caused the problems we have now,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “does anyone know what the RNA instructions are telling the cells to do to produce the effect given?”

“Bloodwork was ran on the remaining subjects,” Huey Baniff, a fellow lab technician replied, “there is a strange substance in the blood that does not occur naturally in the body: samples are being analyzed for further readings.”

“I also should note that the test victims appear annoyed with the light, though not in pain, but are not enjoying it...” Mansion piped in before Dr. Green interjected with “Subjects Miss Mansion, subjects.”

“Sorry sir,” Mansion replied with a quick nod, “anyways, there is the possibility that they might not be complete daywalkers: that they may be able to roam in daylight without the threat of horrific death. Other factors, like the unknown substance found in their blood, could mean that something is happening in their body as a defence from the sun that is not simply reversion to traditional state before infection.”

“You're onto something Mel,” Baniff replied, “they still have the anaemia, the thirst for blood, and the illusion of super strength-speed that makes them so dangerous and worth fearing as creatures of the night.”

“Still,” Dr. Green went on, “it likely isn't reversible – like anyone would want it to be reversed, I mean sparkling is better than burning – but we should study this as much as possible. From it we can be closer to a vaccine.”


How many must die, burn, be tortured, and violated? How many, how many? I needed work, and I wanted to rid the world of vampirism. I never signed up to this, and I don't want it. History tells me that actions like this was why we have the vampires in the first place, and this horrible tragedy is proof that this is the wrong way to go. So, enclosed is preliminary findings. I may be fired, burned, and feathered, but I can't do this anymore. Redemption is all this is for.

This was a strange note that was waiting for Lilian Braun, who was sweeping the floor in what use to be an abandoned nightclub from Barrie's days of dead down-town. Now its a room for rent establishment, where the increased dollar, the curfews, and people finding it harder to keep houses can and will end up when the sun sets. Lilian took advantage of this now knowing that people who had a little bit of money but not enough for rent anywhere else would wilfully settle for sleeping in a room about the size of a closet and share a bathroom with at least ten people at any given time. Some people live here while others merely visit.

Course, Lilian housed other secrets. The basement, for example, is where they sleep...

Chapter 6: The Turning

The woods, the strange feel of the sun, and her immense exhaustion all lead to Amanda laying on the ground within the brush, trying as it might to get up and stay quiet – for whatever it was that was wondering the woods was still stalking her. Pieces of the world faded as she laid in wait, and hoped that whatever it was passed her up.

In that moment, under the tingle of the sunlight, something made a grab for her. She had no fight in as her vague memory recorded her being lifted and carried onto a small clearing by the sound of roaring engines.

The road.

At around this point someone shoved a bottle at her. “Here, drink,” a male voice speedily spoke shortly afterwards. Amanda made no arguing stance at all as she took a drink of what she hoped was water and looked up at a frail-looking man in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. “Now, you alright?” he asked after she took a few gulps.

“I dunno, I think so...” Amanda replied, “who're you?”

“Watts,” he simply replied. Amanda sent him a queer glance at the response then took another gulp out of the bottle. It tasted like mineral water, though with the strange changes in her taste-buds that had been going on she couldn't be that sure. She looked back up at Watts. “So, what are you...” she began to ask.

“Waiting for ride,” he simply replied, “we're heading for Barrie.”

“Why?” she asked him again, the hair on her neck standing on end.

“Safe place,” he replied, “From there we head for Newmarket, then Toronto. Safer place.”

“How did you...?” Amanda started speaking again. “Tip off from peps,” was he's quick reply.

“Peps, what...” Amanda tried to get more words in with more cut off: “buds in woods scoped the fence. They sees the escape. We came to get yous out of the forest.”

“Ok then...” Amanda looked at him skeptically.

“But why...?” and again Watts jumped in “We be looking out for our own: the fence takes us and does stuff to us. The fence makes us too.

“By the way,” Watts went on, “what they do to you? Your skin looks funny.”

Amanda was starting to come more into her senses and she realized at the question posed by Watts that she was getting used to the strange tingling sensation that her skin was giving in lieu of the fuzzy warm feeling, or even the burning that she was expecting. “I don't know,” she replied, “They injected me with things and... I don't know anymore.”

“Well, you can't be a vampire now,” he replied, “Vampire skin doesn't do that – I know for fact.”

“Really now,” Amanda replied quietly. She looked at the pavement for some time before looking back up at Watts. “So, who are your... 'peps'?” Amanda asked.

“Oh, they're my friends,” Watts replied simply, “They're secret society of sorts. Times are tough and we must stand up for eachother, must protect eachother. All: the turned and the affected. Though what you are I'm not sure myself. Never seen it before.”

“What am I?” Amanda asked rhetorically. It was clear that Watts knew nothing, so it reaffirmed in her that she was a unique of sorts: an anomaly in the theoretical dice roll, and that she, only she, developed these powers, that she could use in her part of God's plan to deliver humanity from evil and stop it from waltzing into temptation.

“What I am I'm not certain of,” she replied to Watts while he fiddled with an iPhone* that he pulled out of this pocket, “I just know that I'm now a vampire, or so the scientists told me at that... Godless place.” She looked to the road and sighed. “God clearly must have something for me, if only I know what.”

She looked to the road as she spoke further: “I can't be certain of what role I play in his plan and in this system of things, but I doubt he would grant me these powers if...”

“Oh, not a Jesus freak,” Watts uttered under his breath rudely.

“What, with the vampire outbreak, the fall of the government as we know it and injustice everywhere, your going to stand there and mock the one true God that can save us from the manifesting of the devil among us?” Amanda rallied back in high fervour.

“...Yes,” Watts replied in a cold tone, “God's done nothing for me... assuming he-she-it is even real in the first place.”

“He's very real,” Amanda replied, “Look at me!” She pointed to her skin, glistening in the high sunlight.

“I have no idea what the fuck that is, and neither do you,” Watts replied, “For all you know the scientist dudes put sparkles in your blood or something.”

Watts took a deep breath before then speaking matter-of-factly “Our ride will be here shortly. From there, safety.”


Silence loomed over the dark-coloured van as it approached to pick the two up. Nothing but the soft roar of the engine could be heard as it came over on the paved county road they were waiting on. The dark-clothed driver, in wear that was heavily concealing, gestured to Watts before he opened the side door to allow Amanda in the vehicle with him. She hesitated at first, staring at the innocent centre seat of the van, shadowed in a dark van with tinted windows, but this was quickly broken with Watts saying “get use to it: most of us can't be in the sun for any real length of time.”

Once in the van Amanda watched it slide shut behind Watts whom took a seat next to her. In that moment the van then revved and sped down the county road away from the woods that Amanda spent three nights in. She was feeling a little spent, but she was feeling better than she was before.

“Find anyone else Watts?” the vehicle driver asked. “No man,” Watts replied, “As anyone else?”

The driver was quiet for a bit. “Twist didn't make it,” the driver simply said in a voice full of regret.

“You sure, I know I didn't see him but...” Watts was cut off when the driver said “Batsie found his corpse being burned by them fuckers in the woods.”

“Ok,” Watts became quiet as he hanged his head. Who Twist was Amanda couldn't be sure of, she just knew that he was dead and it seemed to make Watts sad for whatever reason. There was a thought of how the living and the dead would be judged when the rapture came and Jesus would return to the world as described in Revelations. The worry came in when one wondered if they would be judged good or evil, and of course, if you follow scripture to the letter then there wasn't a problem: you were good and God will receive you. Course, vampires were undead, walking abominations, so where would that place the newly dead Twist? Even if he wasn't a vampire, which was entirely possible, she's never met the guy before and now never will, but he seemed complicit with people that were – this 'society' that Watts briefly mentioned. After all, blessed is one who does not walk with the wicked**, condemned or the damned, and it is pretty clear that vampirism is punishment from God.

“Our father who art in heaven,” Amanda started up as the thought crossed her mind, the thought that whomever Twist was had to be someone whom would never feel the embrace of God. She somehow needed reassurance. “Hollow be thy name, thy kingdom come...”

“Thy will be done on Earth as it is in freaking heaven,” Watts jumped in smugly, “Give us today our bread and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against you, lead us not into temp-fucking-tation, but de-LIVER us from the bad shit, a-fucking-man.

“Now shut up you Jesus freak.”
*Apple Inc does not sponsor this site either.
**Psalm 1:1 “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of the mockers.” (New International Version)