Where a missing person's report is more than what it seems. Thomas is torn between reliving his past to find his love's killer, or pay for sins he did not commit. As everyone around him think he is the one responsible for her murder. Thomas has to deal with a wayward youth while trying to keep the peace between the factions. Come and bear witness to the world of the vampires and humans as seen from Thomas' eyes.
Vampires Curse
By David D. TaylorAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 David D. Taylor
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4685-4147-2Contents
Chapter 1......................1Chapter 2......................17Chapter 3......................23Chapter 4......................33Chapter 5......................47Chapter 6......................55Chapter 7......................63Chapter 8......................73Chapter 9......................83Chapter 10.....................97Chapter 11.....................113Chapter 12.....................129Chapter 13.....................137Chapter 14.....................157Chapter 15.....................171Chapter 16.....................187Chapter 17.....................213
Chapter One
On a cold night I woke from my slumber and got up from the couch on which I had fallen asleep. I slowly opened the curtains, and gazed at the beauty within the star lit night. The moon was full and brightly shining into my smoke filled apartment, the air was stale from the cigarette sitting in the ashtray filled with old butts on the end table. The empty beer bottles on the floor are scattered and give the room an even more depressing feel. I folded the blanket and placed it on the end table, after I threw away the beer bottles and dumped the ashtray. I walked across the room and sat back down on the couch. I searched for the remote and after finding it tucked under the cushion I flipped on my television to the local news channel. It was nothing of interest really. The light from the screen casts shadows in the empty room.
After a while I picked up the phone to call my girlfriend and tell her that I was sorry for fighting with her last night. We both said hurtful things to one another. It was something I didn't want to think about, but knew it would be better to call her. As the phone was ringing, the breaking news story caught my attention.
"Early this morning the unidentified body of a young woman was found on the boardwalk. The police say the evidence suggests she died last night. A further investigation is under way. She had a tattoo on her left shoulder blade of an angel and a demon fighting. Anyone having any information about the victim or the circumstances behind her death is asked to contact the police hotline as soon as possible. You may remain anonymous. Due to the numerous recent violent attacks lately, the police strongly suggest that you do not go out alone ... up next, highlights from tonight's games."
Dropping the phone, I fell to my knees in shock. I could not believe what I was hearing, my vision started to blur as the reporter's words sank into my head. The young woman they found had to be her. Although the description was vague, the tattoo of an angel fighting with a demon was not common, especially on a woman. Who would do this to her and why? She was the type of person who got along with everyone. She did not do anything to warrant this. I began to feel sick to my stomach. It was a mix of severe panic and complete shock. I knew that I wouldn't be able to rest until I found the answer to this mystery. I tried several times to call, but of course she did not answer. My mind starts to settle and I realize I have to check her house to be sure. After the initial shock settled I left the safety of my apartment and rushed into the night. This is where the story really began.
I pulled in front of her two-bedroom townhouse in a crowded neighborhood. Her house stands out from the others immediately, it's one of the few well-kept homes in the area. Her car was still parked in the driveway. Which means that she made it home from my apartment last night after our fight, and didn't go back out. She always drives her car to avoid being stuck at any place at the mercy of someone else. She liked to be in control, coming and going as she pleased. Its something I liked about her. She was an independent woman, which can put some men off. To me there was no flaw in her character.
As I walked toward the house I tried to see through the downstairs windows. I couldn't see anything or anyone. I opened the storm door slowly in hopes that I was wrong and she would come out of that door any second. I knocked on the door but there was no answer. After a few minutes with no answer or movement from inside, I knocked again and turned the doorknob. The nervousness inside of me grew, my heart was pounding faster and faster as I noticed the door was unlocked, and opened easily.
She lived in a rough neighborhood with a high crime rate. She always locked the door and only opened it for the people she knew. I called out as I entered into the foyer but still there was no response. My emotions were racing out of control, not a normal feeling for me. Once inside I noticed her purse and keys sitting on the entryway table confirming my suspicion that she never willing left the house last night. I quickly ran upstairs to her bedroom. Maybe she had been hurt, or was so deeply asleep that she didn't hear me knocking. The sheets showed she had been sleeping but had been left bunched up at the end of the bed, not a normal habit for her. She was a tidy person and never left her bed unmade. In fact if she had seen the state of my apartment after the fight she would have thrown a fit. It sealed the facts for me.
Slowly I went through every room looking for something to be out of place to give me a clue as to what might have happened and where she might be. After about an hour, I was still confused about why. Why she was gone with her bed unmade, the keys and her purse on the table, and her car in the driveway? I sat in her living room just thinking the last time I saw her was when the two of us were fighting and she just left. I wish I just stayed with her. We should have talked it out. She was the only one that truly loved me for me and made me feel whole. She made me feel alive. Every time my eyes closed I could see her smiling at me. At this moment it was painful, she wasn't there. As I was leaving I took the small golden frame picture of her from the mantel and shoved it into my coat pocket.
I left, heading straight for the police department to file a missing person report. I was holding onto the slim chance that the woman I heard about on the news was not her. Maybe she was still alive.
I entered the police station, heading straight for the front desk, and told the officer behind the desk I would like to file a missing person report. The panic in my eyes was suppressed. Panic wouldn't help this situation and I knew that. The man sitting behind the desk handed me some forms to fill out and told me to have a seat, someone would be with me in a few minutes. After what seemed like an eternity, the hands on the clock at a stand still, an officer finally came up to me. I was taken back for a moment. He was dressed in a well-tailored, mock-necked sweater. More like how a SWAT team member would dress, not the traditional police uniform. He was relaxed and looked at me with a professional calm. It was obvious he had been in the field a long while and didn't want to panic anyone who came in to file a report.
"Hi, I'm Officer Steno and I was told you want to file a missing person report. If you'll just follow me, we'll go to my desk and get started." He turned, without another glance, and walked away.
I followed him through the precinct to a small wooden desk covered with papers, files and an old looking computer that was hidden under the mess. As I sat down in the metal chair crowded in front of his desk, he asked me why I felt that this person was missing. The question sank me like a stone.
"I called my...
