AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It shouldn’t surprise me he knows about the society. Ann did. I suppose for someone like Hank, uncovering secrets is second nature. Me? I had no idea. My dad was in as his before him. I’m a legacy, but you still have to go through the initiation. Because of the debacle with Ann last year, I was suspended. Killing Hank guarantees my way back in and a life of privilege. Something tells me Hank is going to flush my dreams down the drain.
Wraith
We played our little charade, made sure people saw us together and that campus security cameras certainly got footage of us. I wore a baseball cap and kept my head down, but if Jonathan Stonewall is looking, he’ll know it’s me, even if I appear different. All we need now is for Simon to give him footage of him killing me.
Simon is pacing back and forth, a permanent frown on his face. He keeps glancing at me and shaking his head as though he’s not comfortable with our plan. Well, my plan.
“Simon, it’ll work.”
He jabs a finger at the bags of blood on the table in this abandoned warehouse. “You just happen to have pints of your blood stashed away?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“That’s seriously fucked-up.”
Shrugging again, I walk toward him. “I keep it frozen for times like this, but I need you to drain two pints out of me.”
“Why?”
Sighing at having to explain myself to him, I pick up a bag. “It’s been frozen, which means ice crystals form within the cells and rupture the cell membranes.” Simon looks confused.
“It basically turns it to mush. Any reliable forensic technician will see something isn’t right. There are ten pints in the average human body. What I have here are six pints. You’re going to drain two from me, and you’ll take back the fresh blood as proof to Stonewall.” I put the bag back down. “He’ll want to see where you killed me. Knowing how careful he is, he’ll send someone to check the place where you ended me. They’ll take samples. Now, some will be fucked-up, but if you put my blood over the top of these, they may not notice, or they’ll think it’s some sort of anomaly. I’ve done this before, so we should be fine.”
Simon scrubs a hand down his face. “Fuck, you’ve done this before?”
I raise a shoulder, nod at him, and walk over to a chair. “You ready?” Simon nods, but he looks a little green. “Don’t tell me you’re queasy over a little blood?”
“What if I take too much?”
“Son, I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll do everything. I just need you here to make sure nothing goes wrong.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at his feet. “Relax.”
This seems to make him worse. Simon begins to pace. I figure the best thing I can do is sit down and start draining my blood, which will take about twenty minutes. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I press play on my favorite playlist. It’s an eclectic assortment of artists, the first being Metallica, and their “Sad But True” song blares out eerily across the warehouse.
Simon freezes on the spot and then turns to face me.
“Not a fan?” I ask as I put the needle in my arm, which will take out the first pint.
“It’s kind of old school, and I don’t like metal.”
Sitting back in the chair, I hit skip, and Beethoven’s “Fur Elise” plays.
“Really? We’ve gone from old to ancient.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him and hit skip again. This time Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy” begins.
“Better?” I ask.
“At least it’s from this century.”
Chuckling, I point at a chair. “Sit. This is going to take a while, and I’ll need to eat.”
Simon sits, only to stand again. “You’ve got food?”
Next to the table with my blood on it are two coolers. One held my blood, and the other has sliced-up roast beef, steamed broccoli, a chocolate cake, and orange juice.
“Yeah, if I don’t eat, I could pass out. Want to hand me a slice of chocolate cake? You can help yourself to the rest.”
Simon pulls off the lid and looks inside. “That’s a lot of food.”
