Blood Runs Forever

NOTE: This story was inspired by the song Blood Runs Forever by Scary kids scaring kids. I will link it on the right of this page, so feel free to take a listen. 

He stared at her, unmoving as he thought. She hung, suspended in the air by two crimson curtains tied around her wrists.

Two figures in black hoods stood either side of him, facing away from each other. Outside the screams of the living and the moans of the dead could still be heard above the thunderous rain.

“Do it now,” The One on the Right urged him.

“No,” The One on the Left interjected almost immediately. “We must save her blood.”

“Hear them!” The One on the Right shouted. They spoke with more urgency then The One on the Left. “We must do it now.”

“We must save her blood,” The One on the Left repeated calmly.

A tremendous roar sounded from beneath them.

The One on the Left raised their head slightly. “It is coming.”

“They are already here!” The One on the Right reminded them.

“Enough,” He said. He spoke no louder than one would in ordinary conversation, but his voice silenced the two figures immediately.

He slowly walked towards her and raised his eyes to meet her shut eyelids. “We do both.” He whispered.

He raised his dagger and carefully traced it across her throat, making sure he didn’t puncture any major veins. He reached up and tilted her head slightly, allowing the blood to drip down and collect in the vial he had held to her pale neck.

“It won’t be enough,” The One on the Left told him.

He ignored the figure and continued to let the blood run into the vial. He would get as much as he could without killing her. No more, no less.

The One on the Right glanced at the wall impatiently. “We don’t have time. We have to do it now!”

He looked at the vial in his hand. Not even half full. They were right. There was too little of either variable.

“Help me,” He said, turning to the figures. A vial appeared in each figure’s hand and they set to work on her wrists, which he had also slit.

The moaning outside was getting louder. They were running out of time. Maybe The One on the Right was correct, and his only choice was to move underground into the catacombs and wait it out. But there was no guarantee how long it would take for the curse to subside, or if the dead would ever leave.  And when he emerged there was no living, then there was no one to take his place when he passed on and no one to do the sacrifice. And if there was no sacrifice…

He dropped to his knees and prayed. Not to the gods. The gods couldn’t save us now.

But to life. To existence. He couldn’t fail. The repercussions if he did would be too great. The population had to survive, one way or another.

“Will it be enough?” He asked The One on the Left, looking at the nearly full vials.

The One on the Left scoffed, “Hardly.”

“Well it will have to be,” said The One on the Right. “Listen. They are nearly upon us.”

He didn’t need to be reminded.  The screaming outside was becoming almost inaudible as more and more of the living disappeared.

He took the three vials and laid them down off to the side. Then he turned to her.

The room was lit not by moonlight, fire, nor any artificial light, but by her pale face. Her hair fell around her in delicate strands. Her eyes were white and unseeing beneath her lids. But he considered it not a tragedy that she would never know her own beauty. For one could not glow as she did and not develop an arrogance. And she would need to be pure for the sacrifice to work.

“Bring it,” He told The One on the Right. The figure obeyed him and quickly fetched a large black box.

Another roar sounded from below. It was as if the beast was competing with the monstrous beings outside.

“It grows hungry,” The One on the Left spoke calmly. “Perhaps you should do something about it.”

“Soon,” He answered him. He turned to the girl and began muttering quietly. To an outsider it would have appeared to be pure gibberish, but to those who could hear it, it was the oldest incantation known to man.

He placed on hand on the exceedingly plain black box and continued to mutter. Then he reached into the box and pulled out the first part of the ritual.

The One on the Right watched as he carefully arranged the cursed bones at her feet. The dead were so close, and time was so short. The One of the Right had to stop themself from crying out and urging him to move faster. But they dared not disturb him. The ritual was simple, but delicate.

He placed the final bone and then reached back into the box for the next piece. This was in the form of two silvery strands of hair. The Hair of the Ancients. He tied a strand each around one of her wrists.

The One of the Left was beginning to lose their composure. They too felt the growing presence of those outside, and though they did not fear death, the prospect was not a pleasant one. And the beast was ever so restless. Finally they could contain themselves no longer.

“We have not time!” The One of the Left burst out. “We have to do it now. Before the beast rises!”

He ignored the figure and continued muttering. The words spilled out of his mouth, those words which he had been reciting since he could remember. He had been trained from birth for this very purpose, and he would not stop till he had done his duty.

But he too knew he needed to speed up. He hastily grabbed the salts and sand and shook them across the girl. Then he took his dagger, still wet with the girls blood and drew it across her forehead.

The doors to the church burst open and the dead poured in. It was time.

He raised his forefinger and thumb onto the girls eyelids and opened her eyes.

The moaning of the dead stopped immediately. The beast hushed. Even the violent storm outside was still. All was silent.

He didn’t so much as hear, but felt the noise returning. It boiled up, growing into a strong hiss as it all prepared to explode. Now. He had to do it now.

He raised his dagger and plunged it into her heart, hushing it’s faint beating immediately.

…

…

…

He poured the crimson liquid down into the drains. It wouldn’t be enough to keep the beast satisfied for long, but he had made his decision. Now they could only pray it would keep it dormant for long enough for the next sacrifice to be born in a thousand years.

The One on the Left stood sadly staring as the bloody carcass of the girl. Such a waste. Her blood pooled around her, some following into the drains, the rest settling on the stone. But the beast would not be interested in the blood of the dead.

The One of the Right was too aware of the grim situation to feel smug. But they were safe for now. They had completed their task. Everyone had a purpose, and The One on the Right’s purpose had just been served.

The dead lay dead, and the beast lay dormant. 

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Yeah, so I decided to post a one-shot I wrote a while ago to make up for not being able to upload for a while. Damn exams x( 

This is just something that popped into my head when listening to the song. I'm sure it's not what they were actually thinking when they wrote the song (I believe the actual song is about vampires), it's just my interpretation. I hope you kind of understood it, I know it's fairly vague and weird. But I didn't want to kill the feel with annoying explainations. Hope you liked it :)