Short-Stack-101

‘Ssh, don’t cry.’ A soft voice murmured in my ear. I looked up to see Bradie standing over me. He rubbed my back, trying to sooth me. I gave him a watery smile and he handed me a tissue. I dabbed my eyes with it as he continued to pat my back. ‘Things’ll get better. I’m not saying you’re gonna get used to it, but it will get better. There are ways to be almost human. We still have to breathe, we still have to sleep. There are blood banks, so you don’t have to kill anybody.’ Bradie added quietly. As simple as the words were, they comforted me. I sighed. ‘Thanks, Bradie.’ We we

She’s got no bite mark. The words travelled around my but I couldn’t figure out their significance. From my attacker’s tone, it was bad though. The one called Andy paced around the bathroom, muttering ‘shit’ repeatedly. My attacker stood up and faced Andy, blocking his path. ‘What’re we gonna do with her? We can’t leave her here, she’ll expose us.’ My attacker deduced. ‘I don’t know, Shaun. Use your frigging brain for once!’ Andy snapped, glaring at him. ‘You’re supposed to be the leader and I’m sick of picking up after you.’ He added. My att

I’d moved to New York for university with my best friend, Mel, after we’d graduated in Sydney, Australia. So how the hell had I ended up in the sleazy back alley of the pub we’d been in, without said best friend and roommate who’d convinced me to come with her, the night before my first day of college? It was nearly midnight now and a drunk Mel had left me alone in that Godforsaken bar at around nine to go off with some sleaze ball who smelt of marijuana. I was cold, alone and glad I hadn’t let her talk me into drinking. I was a lightweight and being accidently pushed through the back door of a club and then lock

A figure stalked through the vacant alleyway of New York City. Shaun Diviney was prowling for his next meal. It was approaching midnight and he knew Andy and Bradie wouldn’t wait forever. He kicked an empty beer bottle out of his path. It shattered against a dumpster, the noise resounding through the partial silence. He was behind a bar now, the rowdy drunken chatter from within and the smell of alcohol and sweat permeating the air. He knew from experience how ghastly blood laced with alcohol tasted. Finally, he came across a young woman sitting in front of a locked back entrance to a pub. She looked lost, obviously not from New York,