Hunted Blood: Predator and Prey Ch. 01

Michael removed his raincoat and then opened the backpack. He strapped a small, lightweight rappelling harness on, and then slung the rifle across his back. He did the same to the katana. He then moved quietly down the alleyway, stopping to find an old fire escape. He carefully climbed up it then made his way across the low rooftop to another rooftop. It took him a while to successfully navigate the rooftops, sometimes having the climb down partially in order to reach a fire escape ladder on the next building. Finally, he made it to the roof top he wanted. He now had a good view of the main street that was full of side alleyways, two of which had been the scenes of murders.

Stone took a few moments to get set up, all the while remaining quiet and undetected. He tied a coiled length of black nylon line to a roof fixture, and then threaded it through the carabiner on his harness. This would provide a rapid way to the ground should he need to egress in a hurry. He then unfolded the legs of the rifle's bipod, and set it so the rifle's muzzle would just clear the roof ledge. When he was satisfied that he was well concealed behind the roof's short facing, Stone turned on the night vision scope and looked through it.

Michael discovered there was enough light from the street lamps that he didn't need the scope on at all. He only needed the light amplification feature when he panned the rifle to peer into an alleyway. Otherwise, he could see fine, a little dark in some places, but clear enough to make a shot when the time came.

Stone saw that the people on the street below really didn't care about the fact they were being hunted. He saw drug dealers, prostitutes, and all sorts of what he considered street vermin. It didn't matter, though, about their social status. The fact was there was a vampire stalking this place. And if the vampire killed these people, it could just as easily kill anyone else. Michael Stone was going to make sure that never happened.

He checked his watch as he lay prone behind the rifle. It was nearing midnight. The sky was cloudy, and looked like it was going to rain. Well, he thought, this was Seattle. Starbucks and rain. Oh yeah, and Pearl Jam.

It was an hour later, an hour of constant scanning with his eyes and the rifle scope, when he saw his target. The Organization had trained him to spot vampires. There were subtle traits they had, the way they walked, the way they moved. To everyone else, this one looked just like another Goth wanna-be. But to Michael Stone, the vampire stood out like the full moon.

Michael peered through the ITT rifle scope, watching the vampire as it crossed the street. It was male, about six feet tall. Michael couldn't see the face, but he really didn't care. As the creature stepped upon the curb of the street, Stone centered the crosshairs on the base of its skull. He eased the rifle's safety to the off position. He took a breath, and then exhaled slowly, letting about half of the air out, holding the rest. His mind entered mushin, and he knew nothing but the crosshairs that rested tightly on the vampire's head. As his right index finger touched the trigger and prepared to press it rearward, the vampire turned around, obviously distracted by something in the street. Stone twisted the scope's zoom, bringing the image into wide focus.

A Seattle PD patrol car had stopped in the street. There were two officers in the car. The one on the passenger's side had gotten out, and was gesturing to the vampire. Stone figured out the cop was asking the creature for some identification. Michael zoomed back in on the vampire's face. He settled the crosshairs between its eyes. He was going to take the shot. He didn't know when he would be able to again. It had to be now. He started to apply pressure to the trigger. It would only take two and a half pounds of force to move the trigger to the rear and engage the sear, which would cause the firing pin to fall on the ammunition round's primer. Only two and half pounds of pressure.

But the vampire moved. With a blur, the creature moved from Michael's line of sight through the rifle scope. He backed away from the rifle, scanning the street below with both eyes now. He saw one cop, the one that had spoken to the vampire, start to run across the street towards his location. The officer that was driving had gotten out of the patrol car. Both were now standing in the street, one pointing towards his side and the other gesturing wildly. And then he saw Melissa grab the driver and point towards some buildings not far from where Michael lay.

He didn't know where Melissa had come from, or why she was on the street. What he did know was the vampire had used its superhuman speed to ran quickly away from danger. He had seen Melissa point across the street, seemingly directing the cops to his side, but a few building away. Michael picked up the rifle, folded the bipod, and slung it across his back. He stood, then turned to pull the knot from where he had tied off his harness.

That was when he heard it. Footsteps. Running. Very fast, and with a rush of wind. He was turning around when the vampire hit him in his left side. The force of the blow knocked him over the edge of the roof. Michael was falling.

The edges of his vision began to turn black as pain clouded his sight. His mind worked to focus itself despite the pain. The rappelling line was still attached to him. He reached to his chest, finding the line and closing his fist around it. He tried to roll himself face up, and at the same time he pulled hard against the line. His body straightened, upright, and then the hold he had on the line caught. The resulting jar nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket. Michael caught his breath and looked down. He let go of the line and literally stepped onto the ground.

Michael dropped to his knees. He looked up to the roof from which he had just fallen. There was no one there. The pain in his left side was harsh now. His right arm, around the shoulder, was on fire. He disconnected from the line and was about to stand when the beam of a flashlight caught him.

"Seattle Police!" Melissa yelled. "Show me your hands!"

Michael raised his left hand above his head. He cocked his head to the side and spoke, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me, Investigator Cove. I've had enough for one night."

Melissa clicked off her light, then stepped close. "What the fuck are you doing?!" she exclaimed.

"My job," he answered. Michael then stood stiffly. He flexed his right arm. It burned, but he recognized it as a sprain and nothing more. His ribs on his left side, though, he wasn't so sure about.

"What happened to you?" Melissa wondered.

Stone told her about being on the roof. She looked up while he was talking, then back at him, her eyes wide. He then told her about the vampire, how he had him dead bang. Stone had figured that when the creature fled from the police officers, it jumped to a rooftop not far from his own, then leapt across them until it came to where he was. Stone postulated the vampire didn't know Stone was there, and when it encountered him, it just figured it would knock him off the roof.

"So where is he now?" Melissa asked.

Stone shrugged, which caused him to wince in pain.

"Come on," she told him, "we need to get you to a hospital."

"Negative," he responded, "I just need to get somewhere I can rest and take care of my injuries."

She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. "Alright, come on then."

They left his car and he went with her to her apartment.

She helped him into a chair in her living room. She watched as he began to remove the black suit.

"What is that? Body armor?" she asked.

Stone nodded. "Yeah, of a type. Its Kevlar, spandex, nylon, reinforced with titanium in places."

"Damn," was all she could say. Stone figured she was awe inspired by the suit's construction. Melissa, however, was remarking on Stone's defined upper body. He wasn't big, like a bodybuilder, but smooth and leanly muscular, like a swimmer. Michael looked down at his left side. There was a nasty bruise there, which hurt like hell when he pressed against it. However, he determined the likelihood of fractures in his ribs was low. Michael retrieved a small bottle of ointment from his backpack. He opened it and asked Melissa for a washcloth.

She returned from the bathroom with one. Stone poured some of the dark colored goo on the washcloth and held it over his ribs.

Melissa wrinkled her nose. "What is that stuff? It smells horrible," she stated.

"Its an ancient Chinese liniment called Dit Da Jow," he explained. "It smells bad, but it heals very well."

She sat across from him on the sofa. "Okay, look," she began, "you've got something to tell me." She indicated the katana and rifle. "What the hell is going on? Who are you?"

Michael took the washcloth away from his side and placed it on the coffee table. "Mind if I use your shower?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually, I do," she replied. "I want to know who you are and who you work for. It sure as hell isn't the FBI!"

Michael sighed. He then told her about The Organization. He told her everything, how it came to exist, what they did, everything. She stared at him the whole time, not moving, not saying a word.

"You saw one tonight, Melissa," he said, pulling back to the conversation, prompting a reaction from her.

She shook her head. "I saw a man," she stated. "A man that can move very, very fast."

Michael leaned close to her. "What you saw was no man. No human can move as fast as that. No human can jump two or more stories onto a rooftop like that."

"Okay," she said, rubbing her temples. "Okay, so say it was a vampire. So why the sword? The rifle? Can't you just use a cross and holy water?" She looked at him, and for the first time noticed he had a small gold crucifix around his neck.

"No," Michael told her, "unfortunately that stuff only works in the movies. Vampires aren't supernatural, although they possess skills that seem supernatural in nature. They aren't beings rejected by death, or God, or anything like that. They are simply a mutation of genetics; another race, a subspecies of homo sapiens. Some even consider them an evolution of mankind. The vampire uses almost all of its brain, we only use on the average of about ten percent. Their unique body chemistry allows them to live an extremely long time, and some may even be truly immortal.

"But, for all of their gifts, they have weaknesses. Sunlight will kill them. A vampire's body heals extremely fast, but it can not heal vast damage that's done quickly. Cutting off the head, burning, or extreme mass trauma will kill them," Stone finished, and he waited.

Melissa touched the crucifix around his neck. "So why do you wear this?"

"That," Stone said, "belonged to my mother."

Melissa smiled. "What happened to her?"

Stone's face lost all expression. His eyes took on that cold, distant look. "She was murdered by a vampire," he stated. He then told her the story of how he was a small child when one night, his father burst into his room. He recalled how his father snatched him out of bed and carried him off into the night. He told how he remembered being cradled in his father's arms as his dad ran. How he looked back at their house and saw it in flames. He explained to her he later learned that a vampire his father had been tracking followed him home and killed his mother.

"So your father is a hunter, too?"

"He was," Michael explained, "but he's retired now. Has a farm he tends to." He stood up. "Can I use your shower, now?"

Melissa pointed to the bathroom. Michael gave a small smile and picked up a small black duffle he had brought from his car. He always traveled with a change of clothes, including an extra combat suit. He took it into the bathroom with him and turned on the shower.

Melissa watched him go. She sat there for a minute, her mind reeling with what she had just been told. Vampires. She wanted so much to not believe it. Michael believed it. That was blatantly obvious. But, she knew what she had seen was real. The only explanation available was the one Michael Stone had given her. And as fantastic as it sounded, it was the only one that made sense. Melissa stood up and went into the bathroom.

Michael was standing in the shower, letting the hot water run over him when he sensed someone else in the room. His eyes opened, and through the shower curtain he saw Melissa's silhouette undressing. The curtain opened slightly behind him, and she stepped in. Neither said a word to each other. Their first embrace was tentative, and Michael held her as she began to sob. He didn't need to ask her why she cried. He knew. He could feel it in her tears, even as the water from the shower washed them away. She cried for him, for the pain he suffered and the path of vengeance he now walked upon. She cried for the victims of the vampire that now stalked her streets, for even though they were far from innocent, they did not deserve to be food for an unholy hunger.

She looked up, her mouth finding his. She relaxed in his arms as their tongues explored each other's mouths, touching, tasting. There was passion in the kiss, but not force. It was tender and sweet.

Michael's hands roamed down her back, across the roundness of her ass, and then to her hips. She felt him hard against her as he pressed her to him. She pulled against his shoulders. Michael moved her backwards, pressing her against the wall of the shower. She involuntarily lifted her right leg, placing her foot on the tub's rim. Keeping himself pressed against her, Michael slid down.

She felt him pressing at her entrance. She was on fire there, throbbing, and she moved her hips around, trying to capture him, hoping to pull him inside. Michael pushed forward, cupping under her lifted thigh to bring her hips in-line beneath his. And at once, he was inside her.

Melissa's mouth formed an "O" shape, her lips pursed as she gave vocalization to her body's reaction as Michael pushed inside her. She held onto him as he began a gentle movement in and out. Her mouth found his again, and she moaned into him as they kissed.

Every time Michael moved into her, she rocked her hips forward, causing the top of him to scrape across her most sensitive spot. She fought against throwing her legs around him, grinding her clit on him until she came. She let him control the pace. He moved inside her so sweetly.

Michael wasn't thinking about anything but how she felt right now. Her tightness and warmth enveloped him, and as he pushed farther inside her, he could feel her muscles deepen. He kept the pace even, not too slow, but not too fast. He knew the constant and consistent friction against her clitoris would have its effect soon enough. And, as he pushed into her, he rolled her hips to meet his, causing him to rub that most sacred and hidden of places deep inside her.

Melissa had her head back against the shower stall now. The words "Oh God," repetitively coming from her. She could feel the heat inside her building. Her legs were starting to tense, but she knew she would not fall because Michael was holding her. She was nothing but one solid mass of sensuous feeling being joyously made love to against her shower wall.

And then she came. Her muscles clamped down on Michael, she stiffened, her hands digging into his shoulders, and she screamed.

Michael felt her come on him. He held her, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as she dug into his flesh. He held her as she shuddered, with each tremble causing her to bang her head ever-so-slightly against the shower wall. When she had come down from the peak, she opened her eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

Michael withdrew himself, then turned off the shower. He slid open the curtain and helped to step out. She reached for a towel, but he grabbed her by the back of her hips and pushed her against the bathroom counter.

"We're not done, yet," he told her. He then pushed against her back, causing her to fall forward against the counter. She caught herself, bracing her hands against the sink as she felt her ass being raised up. She watched in the mirror as Michael moved behind her, cupping her ass first, then spreading her open.

She was about to tell him to not hurt her when he suddenly pushed into her. It was forceful, but not too hard, and he didn't bury himself inside her. He waited a few seconds for her to adjust to him in the position. When she raised her head, he saw her smile in the mirror. He smiled back, then grabbed her by the hair and began thrusting into her.

Melissa started the repetitive moaning again, only this time the words "Yes!" and "Harder" spat from her mouth. She looked up again, into the mirror, and saw Michael behind her, one hand entwined in her hair, and his muscled physique rippling as he held onto her. She could feel his hand around her hips, holding her steady while he pumped in and out of her.

Michael was getting closer. He looked down and watched himself going in and out of her. He looked up and saw her in the mirror watching him.

"You feel so good," he said. She moaned something unintelligible and arched her back, opening herself more for him. He disentangled his hand from her hair, and grabbing her ass, spread her cheeks wide.

"Oh fuck!" she exclaimed, her orgasm starting build again. Michael didn't stop, but instead he pounded harder. He could feel the tingling start, the sensations of the impending explosion coming deliciously soon. He clenched his teeth, a low moan coming from him, almost animalistic sounding. And then, when he though he was going to pass out from sensory overload, he thrust one last time and held himself there as he shook and came.

Melissa felt him throbbing, shooting inside her. She gave into her own orgasm, gripping the sink faucet and accidentally turning it on as she screamed her pleasure. She didn't care, she didn't even know, because all she was aware of was that Michael Stone had just fucked her like she had never been fucked before. And she loved it. When Michael finally withdrew from her, she could barely move. She vaguely lifted her head and looked at the sink faucet. She gave a small laugh and turned it off. She looked into the mirror and saw Michael smiling and shaking his head. She gave a small shrug as he stepped back into the shower and turned it on.

They actually showered this time, washing away the sweat from their previous exertion. Afterwards, they both lay nude, and cuddled on Melissa's bed.

Michael checked his watch. It was about two hours until sunrise. He thought about the vampire, and seeing the creature on his roof. The vampire had ran from the police, but why towards him? The fiend was escaping, but to where?

"Hey," Michael said, "what's beyond the building where I was when you found me?"

Melissa thought for a minute. "Not much, just the docks. The sound. Boats and stuff."

"Warehouses?" Michael asked, "like old warehouses? Abandoned warehouses?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Why?'

"Because," Michael reasoned, "the vampire was fleeing when it came across me. And I believe it was escaping to its lair. And there's nothing better than an old, unused warehouse where it could come and go as it pleases."

"Oh," Melissa understood, "so we need to check out some old warehouses."

Michael nodded. "Get some sleep," he told her, "we leave at sunrise. In daylight, we have the advantage."

Melissa spooned against him and drifted off. Michael held her, and despite the pending battle he knew he would fight, found himself falling asleep.

---to be concluded.