The Werewolf Keeper

Night's Creatures

"I could read to you." He suggested, he stood up and went over to the book case selecting her favourite book, a much worn copy of Jane Eyre.

"Please don't feel like you have to stay with me. I won't trap you in this relationship, it's over. You are completely free to-" 

Joe quickly returned to her side and stopped her words by placing a finger over her lips.

"No. Don't say that again." His expression was dark now but Sarah couldn't see that.

"But why not? I'm hideous! My eyes...I look like a monster!" Sarah's voice sobbed out but her cheeks remained void of tears - her cursed eyes remained painfully dry in her head. Joe kissed her softly on the cheek. Sarah instinctively closed her eyes and Joe moved his lips, brushing her own, to kiss the edge of her jaw and moving up to her ear. Softly he kissed her closed eyelids, Sarah sighed.

"You're beautiful and strong. We can get through this together."

"Always?"

"Always, because I love you and I - Miss Sarah Louise Knight - am never letting you go."

**

Meanwhile in the next room along, Hannah was teetering on the edge of her wobbly desk chair in search of a plastic reindeer. Life had certainly returned to normal incredibly fast.

 Hannah pulled off the wardrobe the mass amount of junk that had been allowed to accumulate there. She threw them onto the bed for now. She was certain that she'd put the darn thing away here. Her fingertips brushed against something. She went up onto her very points and lunged for it. The crash reverberated throughout the entire house. 

Hannah picked herself up off the ground - figurine in hand. She was covered in papers and photographs (not to mention a large quantity of dust). She knelt down to gather the scraps up, her heart missed a beat when she realised what the contents was. She'd forgotten that she'd stuffed Francis Beaver's box up on top of the wardrobe. It felt like a cruel twist of fate somehow that the photographs should be sprung unexpectedly at her again.

She scrabbled up the photographs together and quickly stuffed them back into the box. The rest of the junk that had been the box was also scattered about her bedroom - she threw this stuff on top of the photographs. One photograph fluttered out of her grip, she'd missed it because it had been caught inside the pages of an old magazine. Hannah froze when she saw the image.  It was her mum and Elizabeth. Her mum had an arm around her friend and was resting her head against her shoulder. Elizabeth was smiling and looking down at the baby she cradled in her arms. The baby was Hannah.  

**

Jordan Daniels was walking alone through Ducks Bottom in the middle of the night. The streets were deserted as everyone else was bolted securely in their homes.  His watch bleeped several times.

"Happy Birthday." He murmured as he saw the face flash 00:00 repeatedly. His gut clenched. This would have been Jessica's fourteenth birthday. Tears filled his brown eyes and he sniffed loudly. He wished suddenly that he wasn't alone just then. He wished that Hannah Winters was with him. She understood him. Her company didn't annoy him.

All his friends were bland compared with her, they just worshipped him for his looks and his abilities on the pitch and he knew that. Hannah hadn't called him in ages - no doubt she was too busy doing exciting, daring things. Off with her lucky boyfriend. But Jordan kept up this line of thought - after all, heated jealousy beat dwelling on his dead sister.

Jordan saw a shadow spread on the pavement before him. He looked up from his shoes and saw a man standing in front of his path. He recognised the man - he'd almost strangled Hannah in the park. Jordan's hands balled into fists, he stopped in his path - leaving a space between them. 

Russell was standing beneath a streetlight, meaning Jordan got a good look at him. He was dressed inappropriately for the weather, in a t-shirt with torn jeans and mud splattered boots. He looked dangerous - the type of guy old ladies cross the streets to avoid. Not like how he'd been dressed before. He smiled menacingly at Jordan.

"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last time we met, my name's Russell." 

Jordan grounded his teeth angrily before replying.

"I know who you are, now just cut to the chase and tell me what you're after." Jordan spat out. Cowardice was not Jordan's style and he met Russell's gaze straight on with a glare full of loathing. Russell liked this human boy more and more. The boy had spirit and strength, he could prove to be very useful indeed...

"I'll tell you everything, boy. You're going to learn the whole story." 

Jordan was confused but his instincts told him to be very afraid, in fact his mind was shouting at him to run. Jordan ignored this part of his brain. He would not run. Russell's smile changed as his lips spread to reveal his teeth. Jordan's blood turned cold as he saw two sharp fangs grow from the gums. Russell's iris' turned blood red.

"What are you?" Jordan took a step back, his hairs were raised on his neck and sweat was collecting all over his body. He had no weapon- no way to defend himself.

"I'm a vampire." Russell replied, his eyes alight with malice.  Jordan attempted to cry out for help but the breath was knocked from his lungs as his back collided painfully with a wall. They were standing in an unlit alleyway. Jordan frowned in confusion - how had they got here?  But this question no longer mattered. What mattered was the pain in his neck when the fangs pierced his skin. Jordan struggled against his attacker but Russell pinned him in place with ease, his cold hand clamped over Jordan's mouth as he sucked hard at the boy's life blood.