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THIS STORY IS NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 12
When Velma arrived home it was 7.14 pm. Her place was empty but she found two notes on the fridge. One said hope you’re ok, see you later, Love M xx. The other, in larger, more ungainly script, said LET’S SECURE DROP. TALK LATER X . She was encouraged by the added kisses. Despite her shocking disclosure, her friends were still friendly.
Velma took a shower before forcing herself to check social media and news websites to see if they were still talking about bloodless. They were. All of them were. The tabloids escalated public fear with speculation and completely made-up content. The more reputable news outlets shared interviews with doctors and scientists who tried to sound knowledgeable by spewing hypothetical advice about what people should do if such-and-such happened, and what it would mean if that didn’t happen, but something else did. Online forums were filled with panicked questions from members of the public, and authoritative answers from other members of the public who’d got their info from various important-sounding people who knew nothing about it. Arguments became heated and foul-language-laced insults were thrown back and forth between thousands of people.
Velma closed her laptop, leaned back in her seat and sighed. This was bad. Really bad. She resisted the temptation to keep blaming herself for creating this panic by killing four people at once because she now knew, from what the Health Minister had said, that they’d been aware of bloodless for more than thirty years. So if she hadn’t killed four at once and got the ‘disease’ in the news, she wouldn’t have known that they were going to begin research on animals, and she wouldn’t have been able to stop them. That is, she wouldn’t have known she needed to stop them, so she wouldn’t have stopped them.
Point is, she told herself, you’ve got to stop them!
“Now I’m hungry!” she thought with exasperation. She hadn’t slept very well that day, due to all the noisy children on the clattering, whistle-blowing miniature railway, and after those exhausting flights last night, she really needed a good day’s sleep. Preferably in a bed. But she couldn’t sleep yet, she needed to work on how to tell the world it was a vampire, not a disease, that had killed those prey serial killers victims? No, she couldn’t bring herself to think of them as victims. Those who live by the sword, die by the sword after all. She sighed again. “How do I convince the world of the truth without exposing myself?” It was a lot. She needed sustenance.
It was Andy’s turn to host game night, and she was expected there in about an hour. That didn’t give her much time to refuel. Maybe she could get something locally. Obviously it was important not to hunt close to home very often, but she had gone out of town last night so maybe she could get away with staying local tonight. Given the time constraints she reluctantly decided on KFC. She really didn’t fancy another greasy meal but at least she’d be able to get to Andy’s on time.
***
Come back Monday for the next instalment of Chapter 7, unless you want to read it now 😀
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