Something told him that he needed to do it. A strange, desperate
urge to go out in the dangerous daylight and risk his life seemed
strong enough to make him obey. He left the shrouded darkness of the
forest and hurried out into the city. Normally, this amount of sunlight
would kill him, but with the cap, thick sunglasses, long-sleeved t-shirt
and long trousers, he\u2019d probably get away with minor sun-burn.
\u201cCertainly,\u201d she replied, smiling that permanent receptionist
smile. She handed a small blue biro over the counter and he went over
to a table to fill n the forms. Once he had completed them, he returned
to the counter and handed them back.
\u201cYeah, thanks,\u201d he replied. He followed a short, rather pretty
nurse down a corridor into a small room. Inside the room, there was a
bed, a desk, a set of drawers and several posters on complicated
medical matters which he didn\u2019t understand.
\u201cIf you\u2019d just like to sit here,\u201d she asked, gesturing at the bed.
\u201cGreat, now could you roll back your sleeves and we\u2019ll take a small
sample of blood. Once we know that you\u2019re free from any diseases and
we know your type, we\u2019ll ask you back for a proper donation.\u201d
\u201cFine,\u201d he muttered sourly, baring his arm. The needle was
plunged into his skin and a small amount of his blood was taken. He
just hoped that his vampirism would do nothing to affect the sample,
or at least nothing noticeable. He knew well that there was only one
blood type amongst vampires, a blood type currently unknown to
A couple of months later, he returned to hospital to give his
blood again. Having already donated several pints, the nurses were
warning him that he couldn\u2019t give too much more, but little did they
know his secret. His body was different to any others that they\u2019ll ever
have come across before. It replaced lost blood in a far quicker time
then any human body would. He wasn\u2019t losing any significant amounts
in the donations.
As they took the blood, he wondered how much more he needed to give. Whatever it was telling him to give the blood, it wasn\u2019t giving a very clear insight. Oh well, he thought, I\u2019m sure I\u2019ll know when there\u2019s enough.
\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what, Mr Smith; you must be a super healer or
something. There\u2019s never a mark where we take the blood from. No
scar or even a scratch,\u201d the nurse remarked. \u201cAnd aren\u2019t you lucky. I
still can\u2019t believe that you\u2019re the only the person that we\u2019ve met with
this blood type. Amazing.\u201d
\u201cWell, you know,\u201d he murmured, being careful not to give
anything away. The spit of a vampire was extremely efficient when it
came to healing cuts. That was how they drank without being noticed.
They made a small cut on the body of a human, drank as much as they
needed, then sealed the cut with their spit. No-one would ever know
anything odd had happened.
\u201cOK, I\u2019ll see you next time,\u201d she said, smiling warmly at him. He
gave her his farewells and walked through the hospital doors, ensuring
that none of his body was exposed. His skin was still reddened from
the trip here, and he was still putting himself at considerable risk by
walking in the Sun.
He continued down the side alley, trying to stay as far from the sunlight as possible, until he reached the suburbs and the entrance to the forest. He began walking through the trees and he soon reached his current residence, only to find it had been destroyed.
A foul stench was rising from the site (burned petrol?) and
everything was burnt to a cinder. His bag of essentials was gone, as
was his well hidden food supply. He was so busy evaluating the
damage that he did not notice the gentle footsteps behind him, until it
was too late. A powerful hand clamped around his mouth and the other
arm held him flat. He struggled against them, but couldn\u2019t succeed,
which could only mean one thing. His attacker was a fellow night-
Although he was held still, his attackers were just restraining
him, preventing him from causing any damage. They hadn\u2019t yet
\u201cMy, my, my,\u201d a sarcastic, evil voice sounded from behind him. \u201cWhat have we here? It seems to be the vampire that gave blood, not drank it. Well, we know what you\u2019re up to and would like to say that you\u2019ve taken a big risk. We don\u2019t like people who take big risks. They cause us big problems. I mean, what were you thinking? I would be thinking - what if the humans discover us?\u201d
He was paralyzed with fear and to worsen it, the strong grip of
his attackers was holding him completely still. He felt his heart
pumping manically in his chest. Suddenly, all of his hard work seemed
a tad stupid and na\u00efve. But something had definitely told him to do it.
Finally, after the long silence, his attacker grunted and the voice
\u201cMy poor henchman has been dying for a kill for days. We\u2019ve been waiting for the right moment. Now, I\u2019m not one to keep people waiting, so\u2026\u201d
Without much further warning, he was thrown forwards and a
sword plunged into his back. He fell to the ground, writhing and
contorting as the remains of his precious blood poured out onto the
The Sun. It is surely the most bizarre thing in the Universe. I
mean, think about it. There can be no life on the Earth without it, right?
But we vampires can\u2019t live in it either. So, instead, we have all the luck
of either being confined to a Mountain for all of our lives or enjoying
the boredom of a night-time only existence. But, that only applies to
full-vampire, and since I have the pleasure of still being a half-vampire,
I can still go out. Just.
You see, my life is as complicated as can be. My family fled to
England from Lebanon in the nineties and my mother conceived me
during her first few years of living here. Then, when I was only two
years old, my Dad was arrested and detained on charges of terrorism
and various other false charges. The sent him back to Lebanon. He
died after a year and a half of torture.
My mother and I, we wept. He hadn\u2019t done anything. His only
crime was attending a Mosque, run by an extremist Cleric. Mum didn\u2019t
want me to go, so I stayed at home with her. Perhaps it was a good
thing too. We may have been deported back to Lebanon as well.
Then to make things worse, my Mother fell victim to cancer in
1992 and I was left, orphaned. I was just ten years old. I was taken into
care. I hated it there. I couldn\u2019t make friends and everyone kept on
referring to me as \u2018Son of a terrorist\u2019 or \u2018Bomber boy\u2019. The worst was a
boy called Danny Nichol. He made fun of me more than the rest, and
was the origin of the \u2018Bomber boy\u2019 taunt. He punched and kicked me,
This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?