Blood and Bone

He crouched and moved to his side. As the horse darted by, Darius used his long nails to slice into the horse’s abdomen. The horse was partially disembowelled and it bowled over, onto itself and into the dirt. The rider fell off. Darius ignored the other attackers to feed on this one. He gnashed at his neck, with his sharpened teeth. The man fought, but soon he was unconscious. His meal was quickly interrupted.

Darius could hear another horse galloping from behind. Darius turned and the rider swung a mallet. He ducked to avoid the blow and Darius reached up to unarm him, in a quick fashion. The vampire continued to grab at his arm and onto his sleeve. Darius yanked the rider downwards. He fell of his horse and onto his neck, awkwardly. He let out a strange yelp, but his neck was already broken. Other riders were taking off, dissuaded by Darius’ fight and lack of fear. All of the others had scattered to the four winds. The battle was changing in momentum.

Other townsfolk, who were hiding in alleys and shops, began to appear with an assortment of weapons. They had seen Darius fight in the street and they felt, possibly, emboldened by him to fight back. They were poorly armed, though and most could not fight.

The people fought with rakes and pitchforks, or shovels and knives. The riders were swarmed from every side and some galloped off. The more stalwart of the fighters prepared a counter-offensive at the end of a dusty street. They were grouped together in a circle of four or five riders. They fired from their distant position and then charged into the dozens of townspeople. A few of the townsfolk fell, but others grabbed at the riders and their mounts. Darius smiled at the chaos. Humanity amused him.

The few remaining horsemen were removed from their saddles or frightened off and Darius continued to enjoy his dinner, another fallen rider. Some, of those around him, looked away in disgust, while others raised their weapons. Their saviour was a monster and they wanted to be rid of him. Some even called out "monster!" Darius watched them, from the corner of his eye; he knew what was coming.

A mob was forming from the crowd. They seemed to feed off of each other. The crowd was already incensed by the violence and now, they looked on Darius as easy prey, another victim. But, they were wrong. Seven to eight men and women began to circle Darius; he kept feeding. He watched them come closer as he struggled to eat from the flesh and draw out more blood. They looked at his gore soaked face and reeled, while one man prodded him with a pitchfork from behind. Darius spun around and hit the pitchfork away, with his right arm. He stood up, with a man’s flesh still hanging from his mouth. His teeth were sharp and they held the meat firmly. The crowd gasped and one young woman ran away in horror. Others began to strike out at him, at this beast.

They began to attack with their weapons and Darius had had enough of the killing. He broke through the crowd and ran up the street. He chewed on the man's flesh. He did not want to lose his meal. The townsfolk chased him laconically. They seemed content with just survival. The vampire would be someone else’s problem, now. Darius smiled for a brief moment: It is not easy being the last of your kind, or so he thought. But, it was better than being human. Darius spat the last parts of the flesh nto the dirt.

Darius continued walking to the edge of town and away from the carnage. He looked over his shoulder, at the townspeople. They mostly stood still, looking in his direction. They looked desperate and forlorn. Darius turned away. Their appearance made him think that the wanted something from him: protection, or a hero. He could not offer the first, nor be the second. He was an outcast. Darius kept walking onwards and shifted his attention to his journey, up an old dusty and dry road. It was like a desert out here.

Darius travelled through dusk and into the night. The light began to dim even more and his eyesight improved in the low light. He was mostly a night predator, but desperate times brought him out in the day. People mostly hid during the days, now. The threat of bandits and looters made survival difficult. The desert seemed to swallow everything up, which made food scarce and times tought.