The Red Fang
a BEFORE THE SUN RISES novel
by Nicola C. Matthews
Copyright 2007 N. C. Matthews
All Rights Reserved
Ashton Jones was a serial killer. Until he was recruited by SHiELD, he had only had the pleasure of torturing humans. Now he had been given the very unique opportunity to not only torture but hopefully kill a vampire. He was finding the entire experience very much to his liking.
The young female vampire strapped to the table only looked young. Or at least, she used to look young. She had been starved of blood for nearly a month now. Had she not been feeding on a regular basis, Ashton’s systematic starvation of the vampire would not have worked. However, the vampire known as Jasmine might have been nearing eighty years a vampire, but she was still feeding off the blood of the living nearly every day.
The starvation made the vampire weaker both physically and mentally, but it also made them very dangerous. Since her body was used to receiving fresh blood on a regular basis, the blood lust had taken hold of her mind about two weeks into Ashton’s “session” with her.
Starvation was a great tool to use when interrogating a vampire, but one had to be careful. Ashton was forced to crank up his torture of the vampire a few notches in order to drag her mind back from the frenzy it was staying in due to the starvation tactic. Now the female’s bones had been broken so many times that they were no longer healing properly, thanks in part to the lack of fresh blood, and also simply because the bones had been broken so many times.
This information in itself was useful to the agency, especially since Ashton had been hired specifically to extract as much information out of the vampire as possible. The agency had already conducted numerous experiments on the vampire and werewolf anatomy. What they wanted now was the information that their experimentation could not tell them.
Jasmine’s sunken brown eyes followed Ashton as he moved towards the table that held the small bag of human blood. She tried to lick her cracked lips, but her mouth had stopped producing saliva a few days ago. The only thing that gave her any relief now was the few teaspoons of blood that Ashton gave her from time to time, either as a reward for giving him the information he wanted or as a way to keep the blood lust from taking over her mind so completely.
“Please, Ashton, I’m begging you. Just end it! I’ve told you everything that I know. Please …. Please …. kill me already. I simply cannot bear it any longer!”
Ashton smiled, although his back was turned to the vampire so she couldn’t see the cruelty stamped on his handsome face. “I have no intentions of killing you, Jasmine,” he said quietly.
The vampire let out a high pitched wail. “What more do you want from me?” she screamed, thrashing around on the table in another attempt to get loose of the restraints. “I don’t know anything more than what I have already said!”
She began crying again, the sobs almost painful to Ashton’s ears. The agency thought that the sound was some type of warning system that the vampires could use to alert each other of danger. It was also a weapon of sorts, as the high-pitched frequency could really hurt the human ear if it were used just right.
“The werewolves don’t carry viruses. The scientists have already told the world this. They don’t become werewolves or any animal by being bitten. That’s just in the movies.” She continued to pull at the metal restraints, her frightened eyes darting around the room as she talked.
“It’s just like the scientists say, it’s a gene that some of them carry that gets switched on at some point in their lives. I don’t know how it works. I just know that once the gene is activated the person is no longer susceptible to any type of disease.”
Jasmine looked up at Ashton, the terror growing in her eyes as she saw the bone saw he carried in his hand. “The human scientists already know everything that I know about werewolves, and you people know more than the scientists do!”
Ashton pushed the button on the bone saw a few times, the high-pitched buzz filling the room. Jasmine cringed at the sound and began whimpering.
“What about the vampires?” he asked.
She shook her head violently. “I already told you!” she screamed.
Ashton turned the saw on again. Jasmine began rattling off the same information she had already told him a few dozen times before. “You don’t become a vampire by being bitten, either! We don’t know it works.”
The small female vampire pulled her arms against the restraints, the metal digging into her flesh so deep that the bones were close to breaking. She was so desperate to escape that she was causing almost as much damage to her body as Ashton had. Almost.
“If it’s not a virus, then how do you go about making new vampires?” He asked, playing with the button on the saw.
“Whoever is being embraced has to be drained of blood. They have to be nearly dead for the transformation to work. Once the human is almost dead, you have to feed them the sire’s blood.” She kept pulling at the restraints, the bones beginning to fracture under the strain. The vampire did not seem to notice. “But they have to be almost dead! If they are not nearing death then it won’t work.”
“Tell me more about the blood, Jasmine,” he whispered softly, reaching down to grasp her right arm in his hand. He yanked the arm upwards suddenly, snapping the bone. “Be still, or you’ll break the other one.”
The vampire’s sunken eyes were huge in her pale face, the pupils dilated so much that there was barely any white visible in them at all. She only groaned when the bone of her arm broke, her fear so great that she could concentrate on little else.
Her breathing was heavy and erratic as she continued to tell Ashton the same things that had now been repeated a hundred times. “I don’t know why our blood makes a regular human stronger when they drink it!” She began shaking her head back and forth on the table as Ashton came closer with the saw, flicking the button on and off as the vampire began to shake uncontrollably on the table.
“I don’t know who discovered the properties of our blood. I don’t know who began selling it as a designer drug. I don’t know Ashton, I swear I don’t! If I knew I would tell you. My sire abandoned me right after I was embraced. He left me to fend for myself! If I knew of an older vampire who knew these things I would tell you! I swear it, Ashton! PLEASE DON’T!”
Jasmine’s screams echoed off the white tiled walls as Ashton turned the saw on and placed it against her naked abdomen.
“Last chance to tell me something useful,” he said happily.
“I don’t know anything else!” she shrieked.
Ashton only smiled, the sound of the vampire’s screams eventually being drowned out by the droning of the saw blade as the bits of flesh and blood spattered Ashton’s face and hands. God, how he loved his job.