Bloodlust

Chapter One: Myths

A/N This is my new story called Bloodlust. WARNING: It takes place in the 1800's. However, I did not use proper "1800" language. So the story will sound kind of how we talk now in present times. I added a lot of things to the story that actually did not exist in the 1800's, so you guys won't get bored. Please, no hate. Read the first chapter at least, and tell me how you like it. :) The only reason this story takes place in the past is because I was researching online, and I found out that in 1854 in a town called Jewett City, Connecticut, the residents heard vampire rumors and they believed in them. So I loosely based this fanfiction off it xD

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"Dad! I'm going down to the market!" I called as I prepared to walk out the door.

"Wait! Take this." He said, handing me a small vial that held a clear liquid.

"What's this?" I asked skeptically, holding it up to the light to see it better.

"Holy water." He said quickly, his eyes wide with worry. I looked outside to see the sun setting, and I turned back at him and glared.

"Leave me alone Dad, everyone in Jewett City thinks you're a freak for believing the Carsons!" I shouted, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. He held his hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry Charlotte, but it would make me feel a lot safer if you took it with you." He protested. I sighed and accepted the small bottle, walking outside and shutting the door behind me. I instantly tossed the small vial into a bush near our front door, not wanting to take it with me.

My father was a believer in vampires. Crazy, right? A few months ago, a man named Peter Carson ran through town screaming that his dead cousin had came back from the grave and drank the blood of his wife and children. People were appalled, but when a group of men followed him back to his house to see the bodies for themselves, all three corpses were gone. They had disappeared. Everyone was convinced that Peter had gone mad and murdered his family, since no one found any evidence of another being having been present. That was January 10, 1854, and a month later he was hanged for the murder of his family. As the rope was put around his neck, he uttered a few last words.

"Jonathan, Jonathan Brown. That's my cousin's name. If you don't believe me, check his grave. I assure you his body is gone. He escaped his grave and murdered my family! I swear it!" He had shouted, his eyes raving with madness. Then he was hanged, and silenced forever. Everyone knew the story, but few believed it. Then there were some exceptions, like my father. He believed it, ever since there had been recent disappearances all throughout Jewett City, Connecticut, where we lived. The bloodsucking demon Peter had ranted about had been referred to by others as a vampire, a name from an old legend the gypsies in India told. I had rolled my eyes at their tales. It all seemed to be gibberish to me, a story that people believed even though it was obviously fake. Peter had simply been mad, he hadn't known what he was doing. Maybe he had caught a fever and went insane, and after he hid his family's dead bodies he had been so far gone that he ran in the streets screaming about it. The crisp wind blew through the trees, making me shiver and draw the coat tighter around myself. There was some proof to my statement, anyway. A few days after Peter's execution a group of people dug up Jonathan Brown's grave, only to find that his dead corpse was still resting there, with no evidence of having moved at all. He was still cold and dead.

I shook my head and continued my walk to the market, wanting to pick up some food so it would last until the end of the week. It was June now, four months after Peter's death, but there were still disappearances all across town. I just assured myself that it was nothing, maybe people were just running away if they believed in that story the madman had told. I scoffed, shaking my head again and clenching my jaw. It was a bit chilly tonight, even if it was summer.

When I was almost at the market I heard a small sound, almost like a growl, that sounded from the shadows behind me. I whirled around, my eyes searching the blackness before I slowly turned back around. I walked faster until I heard a scream behind me. It pierced the air, loud and filled with fear. I turned back around and sprinted towards the alley the scream came from, arriving just in time to see a tall figure with his lips attached to the victim's throat. The lady was pinned against the wall as her scream died down, and her sounds finally stopped as her body slumped to the ground. The tall figure released her limp form and wiped his mouth, chuckling darkly to himself. I took a step back, but I tripped, stumbling and making a noise of shock. The person near the end of the alley spun around, and before I could say anything he was standing in front of me, his eyes glowing a bright ruby red. He had a drop of blood trickling down his chin, and his tongue darted out and caught the crimson drop, licking it away and causing me to whimper. Had he drank that lady's blood?!

"W-Who are you?" I asked worriedly, backing up another step. I noticed he had light skin and dark hair, and when he smiled menacingly I caught sight of two abnormally sharp teeth where his canines should be. He smirked and my heart pounded in my chest.

"Such a shame, I'm already full, but I might have to kill you anyway." He said with regret, sighing deeply.

"D-Don't kill me! I won't tell anyone what I saw, I promise! Especially not my father, I don't want to admit to him that he was right! Trust me, I won't tell!" I said loudly, rushing the words out of my mouth as I realized what he was. He had drank the lady's blood, he had sharp fangs, his eyes were bright red. He was exactly what the townspeople had been gossiping about. The creature Peter had claimed killed his family. A vampire. When the man shook his head and chuckled to himself, realization shot through me.

"Are you Jonathan?" I asked suddenly, and his head snapped up, shock filling his eyes.

"How do you know my father?" He asked in a surprised voice.

"He's your father? But I thought... Peter said that..."

"Ah, Peter." He said, suddenly understanding.

"Yes... Peter." I said slowly, wanting to keep this monster occupied so he didn't kill me.

"What do you think of Peter?" He asked, his gaze staring into mine, not letting me look away.

"I-I always thought he was a madman. He filled everyone's head with some stupid story that wasn't true at all... I thought he murdered his family and hid their bodies." I said, watching his reaction.

"He is a madman! He's horrible, a traitor, a torturer. He's evil!" The man shouted, his eyes seeming to glow brighter. I stepped back in shock and just nodded, not wanting to anger him more. He seemed to calm down as he took a step closer, not letting me back away from him.

"I'm glad we both dislike him. You're the first person to bring him up." He said, tilting his head to the side curiously.

"D-Did you kill his family?" I asked nervously. He straightened up and stared at me.

"I'll make you a deal. You tell me what you know about him, and then I'll tell you who he really was. Then I might let you go." He offered.

"Deal!" I said quickly.