"It's like drinking water contaminated by dead bodies," the man said. "Exactly as disgusting and *ow* unusable as you'd expect *ah* blast it all!" he hissed in pain as I put another stitch into his arm. The bite was rather nasty and his pained grins exposed the sharp fangs in his mouth; a somewhat uncomfortable reminder of his nature.

"And you're sure you can't be infected?" I asked.

Without a word he lifted his shirt and revealed a large bite mark on his stomach, a clear imprint of human teeth that had long healed. Infection normally takes only some 12-odd hours, so... good enough for me.

"Done," I said and put down the needle and thread. I pulled away from him on my stool as he lowered his sleeve and moved his shoulder around, stretching it.

"How long will it take to heal?" I wondered.

"About a day."

"Impressive."

"Had worse. Javelin through the heart once," he stated nonchalantly

"So... stakes through the heart won't kill you?" I asked. He gave me a somewhat suspicious look but shrugged.

"No. Neither will the Sun, garlic, bullets, or, well..." he said and pointed towards the fence where the zombies still shuffled aimlessly. "But hunger will," he added grimly and looked back at me.

"Right," I said. "So..." I trailed off.

"Look, you're not exactly wild about the idea. I get it, really. I may not be exactly human, but I'm not a monster either. This is a simple matter of survival for both of us. How many people have you lost to them so far? I can protect you!" he pleaded.

"In exchange for our blood," I said. He nodded. "I'm not sure we can properly... provide for you. We have, let's see... 8 men but 2 are sick; drinking their blood would kill them. 4 women, 3 children-"

"No children," he interrupted sternly.

"What?"

"No. Children," he repeated. His face was suddenly dark and brooding. "I'd rather let them tear me apart," he growled. I looked at him; his resolution seemed genuine and absolute. Admirable, I thought.

"It is enough, luckily," he continued. "I don't need as much as you'd think."

I took a deep breath and considered the situation. He was right. That was the worst part. The last time a horde passed through, we lost 3 people just trying to defend the compound. He just fought his way in through about four dozen of them with only a scratch.

I looked him in the eye. Despite it all, hell, despite the fact that his eyes were blood-red, he looked... honest. I extended my hand.

"I'm Abidugun," I said.

"One born before the war," he smiled. "Fitting." Him knowing the meaning of my name put me at ease, somehow. He extended his own hand and shook it.

"Viktor," he smiled, the moon reflecting off of his fangs. "A vampire teaming up with humans against zombies," he chuckled. "Hollywood, here we come."

And, for the first time in what seemed like forever... I laughed.

“Hurry up and help me, you bastard, or there won’t be anything left for you to dine on.” Murdoc shouted, desperately trying to pull the mess that had once been his leg out from underneath the stack of metallic boxes. With each attempt, his leg only got more trapped until he couldn’t even squirm anymore. Instead, he was forced to watch the drooling hoard approach, their slow steps closing in.

“Vampires aren’t dissimilar from vultures. I’ll find some blood to pick at once they're done with you. But, if you were to say, agree to my contract, I would be happy to lend you a hand.”

“I can’t agree on behalf of all the group. You would have to ask them.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s a fair point. Well, will you agree? One source of blood is better than none.” He said, the pale man crouching on top of the fence, placing a hand over his forehead, peering at the corpses. “Might want to hurry it up. I’m fast, but even my speed has its limits.”

Murdoc wondered if this was an elaborate game of chicken. Would the vampire really let him die? Surely it wouldn’t do something so reckless? That’s at least what he initially thought. But once the undead were close enough to smell, the panic set in once more. He didn’t want to die, not like this.

“Fine, I agree. I agree. Just save me.”

The purple jacket of the vampire was left flying in the wind as he rushed forward, moving too fast for the scrappy jacket to stay on. In a flash, he had placed himself between Murdoc and the zombies, giving the human a wink before clawing his way through the horde. Each expert slice relieving the zombies of their heads until they were reverted to just being dead, rather than undead.

“There we go. Didn’t even break a sweat.”

The vampire walked up the fence, his feet seeming to stick to the metal as he climbed back to the top, retrieving his jacket before jumping back down. With his jacket back on, he approached Murdoc, leaning against the metallic box his leg was trapped under, putting an additional kilo of weight on it.

“Want me to take care of this, too?”

“Aghh… GET IT OFF.” Murdoc screamed and as soon as the words left his lips, the vampire flicked the metal box away, watching as it skidded along the grass, leaving a trail in the ground.

“Done. You know that was all a bluff, right? If you got yourself infected, I wouldn’t be able to drink your blood.”

“Yeah, you’re a real joker.” Murdoc scoffed, limping over to the fence, gripping the edge for support.

“Don’t be like that. If you had lived for hundreds of years, you would get a twisted sense of humour too. Now, about your leg. Want me to kiss it better?”

“What?”

“You know, kiss the booboo?”

“Just get me to a doctor already. We have one inside the camp. If you just help me over the fence, I can get some treatment. She might even save my leg.”

“You think that’s even a leg anymore? I wouldn’t look down. There’s nothing that resembles a human leg there anymore.”

Murdoc didn’t take the advice of the vampire, looking down at his leg, only to faint once he caught sight of the wreckage below. It was a mess and one that needed urgent care. As Murdoc collapsed, the vampire caught him, sweeping him up into his arms before jumping the fence once more, getting guns immediately pointed his way when he did.

“Relax, I’m returning a damaged good, I hope I don’t need a receipt for it.”

Hours passed before Murdoc woke up to the smell of pure alcohol. His leg burning but still having sensation. He sat up quickly, spotting the vampiric stranger and Dr. Melissa Brown. The pair stopping their conversation, turning their attention to the injured survivor.

“I can feel my leg? I can feel it. Did you save it?”

“Your legs fine, thanks to the man sitting across from me. Apparently, vampire saliva has a healing effect.”

“Yep, I spent all night licking that leg of yours. It’s kind of like getting the last bits of meat off a steak bone. Quite juicy and tender.” He teased.

When Dr. Melissa saw how pale Murdoc had gone, she gave him the truth, wanting to avoid giving him anymore unnecessary trauma.

“That was a joke. I actually collected a sample from him and created a salve from that. Honestly, I didn’t think it would work, but it seems our undead acquaintance was telling the truth.”

“I have no reason to lie, not when I need our partnership to be fruitful.”

“Partnership? I’m guessing he told you about their plan to turn us into human cattle?”

“Human cattle makes it sound so dirty. It’s just enough blood for us to survive. You get protection, we get blood. Everyone wins. It’s kind of like that frog and spider combination.”

“It isn’t entirely like that, but I see your point. What choice do we have? We nearly lost another person today and our food’s running low. We need people that can travel further into the city.” Melissa said, before turning to the vampire. “What should we call you?”

“Trent is fine. Ive had a few names since I was born, but I think Trent’s the easiest to say. So for simplicity’s sake, you can call me Trent.”

“Great. So, Murdoc, how are you feeling? You won’t be able to walk properly for a week or two, but you should heal up rather nicely. While you’re hurt, I’m going to have you assisting me with my medicine. I’ll need someone to help collect the vampire saliva.”

“Oh, goody. Guess we will see a lot more of one another then.” Trent smiled, earning a small scowl from Murdoc.

“Eh, can’t I just take my chances with the zombies?”

“I know it’s not an ideal job, but everyone needs to pull their weight, even those that are injured. It’s just for two weeks. Once you’re healed, you can go back to handling our storage.”

“Fine. Oh, and thanks. If you need some of my blood, I guess you can have it now.”

Trent looked at Melissa, wondering if the doctor wanted to inform him of the news or not. When the Dr remained silent, he just widened his grin, leaning back in his chair, tapping a spot on his neck. At first Murdoc didn’t know what he meant by the action, until he pressed a hand against his own neck, feeling a slight bruising.

“YOU DRANK FROM ME WHILE I WAS SLEEPING?”

“I got hungry. Don’t get mad at me, the kind Dr approved of it.”

“You did a lot to help us and it made sense to allow you to drink from the one person who wouldn’t notice it. This feeding will take a while for us to get used to, so I thought allowing him to feed on you would be the least painful option for now.”

“What about offering yourself?”

“I can’t look after my patients if I’m lightheaded. Now. Trent, is there anything else you need? If not, I suggest you contact your group and tell them we are open to negotiations.”

“I will do just that. Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll see you around, Murdoc. Maybe you can come see my mansion sometime? It’s to die for.” He laughed, despite no one else finding the joke funny. With that, he left, allowing Murdoc and Melissa to talk in private.

“He has a strange sense of humour, doesn’t he?” Melissa said.

“Guess that must have died too when he became a vampire.”

Melissa gave a chuckle before collecting her clipboard, looking over the list of things she needed to do today. After ticking off a box, she turned to Murdoc, handing him a small jar of painkillers.

“I have to go check our stock of medicine. Just take one of these if the pain comes back. If you feel you’re going to die, scream out for somebody. Ok? There’s some water by your bed too.”

“Thanks, doc.” When she left, Murdoc rested his head back into the pillow, staring at the top of the medical tent. After a few minutes of staring, he took two of his painkillers before closing his eyes, allowing himself to get some more rest.

     

(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)

"Here" I say, passing around plates of food to refugees. When the zombie attack started, I retreated to my factory and opened my doors to survivors. My factory is made of multiple buildings on good soil, and well-guarded, making it an ideal place for people to shelter. That's not to say we're perfectly safe, but with the resources available, we're decently prepared.

After passing out the food, I take a look through my periscope to see how the situation is. Sometimes the zombies just roam around aimlessly outside, other times they can be close to climbing over and getting in. There have been times when a few zombies managed to breach security, which are always scary.

It seems like right now, a few try to grip the wall, climb a tiny bit, then give up. I frown; this could be a bad sign... before I can consider my options, I see something moving through the horde. All the zombies seem to notice as they begin making their way to it. Must be a human... but then why doesn't it seem to be affected?

As the zombies fall, I see there is indeed a human... being protected by a group of vampires! I open the door, ready to let the refugee in. "Humans only" I state. Understanding what I mean, the vampires step aside and allow the terrified girl to enter. I step outside and shut the door.

"That was very kind of you all to do... but why didn't you just, I dunno, bite her or something?"

"We had to restrain" one of the vampires speaks up. "We thought she was the only human left, and we were going to feed, but she begged for us to let her go so she could get to 'safety'."

I nod. "Right. So you're using her and wish to feed on everyone in here? Not happening."

"We're not barbaric" the female in the group says. "We did want to help her, genuinely, but our desire to bite her was because our colony is starving! Once we heard there was still a stronghold, we realised we could help everyone."

I raise an eyebrow sceptically. "Explain."

"You see" the first vampire responds, "as undead creatures zombies are nothing to us, but zombies are deadly to humans. However, as humans you can eat anything, while us vampires need..." he seems to sniff the air. "...we need to feed. It's so hard... I..."

"Easy, son" an older vampire says. He turns to me. "As you can see, we also suffer from this nightmare. Our needs are just different. If you can allow us entry so we have blood to feed on, we can assist in protecting you all from the zombies. I'm sure you could use the assistance. We could even be the ones to go out and look for resources and supplies. There's a lot of medical stuff still available. We could search for materials and stuff."

I look behind me. We've not exactly had full bellies ourselves... and several of us have fallen ill, it... it's painful to watch... even if the zombies don't get us, how long will we last?

I turn back. "No trickery. You aren't to turn anyone. I'll agree to let your whole colony in and feed on blood, in return you will grant us protection and go out to look for supplies." I have a think. I produce a picture of a house, another picture of a teddy. "Prove to me that you will fulfil your end. There's a scared little girl in here. She keeps saying how Peach must be scared."

The vampires have a quick discussion, then look back at me. "Two of us will go and inform our colony. The other two will recover the toy. We won't be more than half an hour." With that, the vampires are off, and I slip back into the compound to share the news with everyone.

Responses are mixed, but it's ultimately agreed by everyone that this may be our best chance. I keep an eye on things outside the compound. I notice a zombie has almost breached defences. I begin to prepare an attack, when suddenly the zombie falls. "WE'RE BACK!" I rush to open the door. Suddenly, there's about 50 vampires. The female from before passes me Peach. Every other vampire has some sort of offering - food, tools, materials. I can't help but smile.

"Guys... this is incredible... thank you..." I step aside to let them all in.

The next day, everyone - human and vampire - are in good spirits. The supplies have helped to heal and to provide entertainment, and we now have plenty of food for the upcoming winter. The vampires seem to be less drained than yesterday, a sign they've been feeding, but a head count confirms that no-one has turned. It seems like things are looking up.

One of the younger vampires runs up to me. "Thank you so much mister!" He decides to give me a hug. In my shock, all I can do is hug back.

"No... thank you..." I begin to cry with joy. Humanity will survive after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading! More stories here!

Artifact 1

A faded, yet legible letter from the ruins of ancient Guangdong, in China.

>When we saw the Stranger, I thought it was the beginning our salvation. A weapon that could change the fate of the world, to take back the world for the living from the rotten jaws of Undeath.

>The way the Stranger danced through the horde - yes that’s dance - was almost an art form in itself. Maybe because we saw beauty in salvation, watching the Stranger easily cut through the undead like a hot knife through butter. Within a few minutes, about a half of the massed zombies are either dead or incapacitated enough not to pose any danger. After so many years of despair, we finally felt hope. And it felt good, we were all ecstatic! But it was only for a short fleeting moment, and never again will we feel such a sensation perhaps, for several lifetimes to come.

>The Stranger made their way to the barricades and with eloquence, they finally spoke. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation myself but I was able to get snippets of it from the people who were there. Something about being from a very old royal family or an unknown ancient clan, offering safety and security in exchange for food, and the word blood.

>I have never seen the Teacher, who has led all the survivors for a few score years now, look pale and defeated. Maybe it was the burden of leadership for all these years trying to hold us all together and instructing us about the ways of the world he lived in that is now gone, or the age that has weakened the mind and body. I don’t know.

>I did not realize the full extent of the Teacher’s mental burden until some people, and almost all the zombies surrounding our complex, started disappearing. It’s always the infirm and the elderly who are taken away by the same individual called the Courier. Rarely does a child disappear but when that does happen we never see the same Courier again, replaced by another being of a cold demeanor and deathless facade who also goes by the same name.

>It did not take us long to realize that these beings are not humans, but denizens of the night that the Teacher had told us about through tales around the campfire. Creatures who we thought of as mere myths and legends, have now made their arrival known to what remains of the living. They stayed in the shadows since time immemorial biding their time and hiding in the safety of the dark, away from the prying eyes of their cattle who almost hunted them to extinction in ancient times.

>Our hubris brought our own undoing, thinking we could tamper with the unseen designs of God and His creations without adverse results. If the light of hope still flickers in hidden places, I pray they use it well and to remember not to commit the same mistake our generation did. Because our fatal mistake created the zombies, who decimated the world’s population in a few months. They became the heralds of our downfall, who made way for the Nobles of the Night to finally take the primacy they have long sought of.

>They did not come for our salvation. They came to preserve what remains of us, breeding and increasing our numbers like animals in a corral. While there are more humans now than there were before, our freedoms have been severely curtailed. When a person unknowingly wanders off the confines of our prison, the Stranger’s kin will gently prod them back. When they commit the same mistake even if they did not intend to, they never return. There are no second chances. It was a cruel fact of our lives that we now have to live with. One day a loved one is there by your side, and the next day they’re gone. Gone forever.

>Sometimes, I wish I fell during the early attempts to fight the hordes. In other days, I wished the wounds I suffered during those battles festered so that I could go out in a feverish delirium seeing images of the world that was. At least I’ll certainly die in a sweet dream, instead of living in a nightmare where everything is uncertain. But I was unfortunate to live, long enough to witness how the Era of the Living has long ended, and the Hour of Midnight has begun.

One morning near the end of October not long before the cycle of day and night had become an oscillation of jet black to blood red (the billionaires crashed and burned in their attempted escape, triggering the Kessler syndrome which in turn resulted in blue light mostly scattering away on account of the earthly mist of space junk rendering the heavens at daytime a doomsday red), Ralph woke to hear sirens.

The perimeters of the Mall of America were closely guarded by a group of octogenarian bird watchers who had all given their last fucks a long time ago in this world with no more birds, led by the venerable William Moore who commanded the respect of the rest of them for being the only one among them who had ever seen the long-tailed Stresemann's Bristlefront—this army of incontinent sentinels worshipped at the alter of Moore.

Ralph entered the hall of computer mirrors, the security HQ, covering his ears and shouting indistinctively at the cucumber-calm Moore who sipped his root beer while keeping his eyes fixed on one screen in particular.

The sight itself was absurd, unthinkable—one woman alone slashed her way through the horde of zombies and she did it with a pixellated smile on her face. On the greenish-gray monitor she parkoured her way through the parking garage in a bulbing-thick parka. With a flick, Moore turned off the alarm and he looked up at Ralph with an expression that could only be described as heartfelt Stoicism. "She's all yours, Henderson," said the King of the Birds. "Get down there. Help her out. Find out if she's been bitten." He paused for a few seconds, then said grimly, "You know the protocol."

Ralph knew the protocol. A small cut on your inner thigh was enough to get you exterminated, and it didn't matter if you had a perfectly good explanation of how you got it that didn't involve any zombies—the MO of the MOA was radical risk management. It was how they'd prevented an internal outbreak, how they'd been able to stay alive for such a long time, and the raptorial cabal had made Ralph their henchman in such affairs though he personally couldn't stand it, couldn't stand the gut-wrenching horror of butchering those who had risked their lives to make it to the compound on account of miniature scratches behind ears, down the nape of their necks, under a crooked toe.

The barricade had stood unmoved for weeks, even months—Ralph had started to suspect there weren't any more survivors out there, only legions of undead on their drunkard's walk towards gray matter tartare, cerebrospinal juice; synaptic sushi and dendritic spaghetti. Clearing a path would be hours of work and Ralph steeled himself for the task ahead. That was when the woman broke through of her own accord.

Her Kool-Aid crash made him jump back in panic. She grinned. In her hand she held a long serrated blade, dripping with dark-red blood. A necrotic hand, severed at the wrist, clutched her left foot. "So this is the mall, is it?" she said, sheathing her blade. Blood spurted from the sudden pressure as she hadn't even bothered to wipe it off first. Ralph nearly fled. Nearly put a bullet between the woman's green eyes.

"Stand down," said Ralph. He pulled out his handgun and took aim at the stranger. "Remove your clothes. All of them."

She laughed. "Who are you? The TSA?"

The woman took off her parka, underneath which was a long-sleeve satin pajama top, cream white with faint dots of pink hearts. "As you can tell, I came to the mall to get a fresh outfit. The apocalypse took place while I was still in bed, you see, and I've been on the move ever since." She held out her hand. "I'm Bobby."

"All of them," Ralph repeated. He tightened his grip on the gun, tightened his lips.

Bobby looked down. Her pajama bottoms were shorts but there were no traces of either wounds nor bruises down her smooth legs, waxed with the precision of Mr. Miyagi. She noticed the hand holding on to her leg. She shook it off and it flopped along the floor, then it started moving like some pentapedal freak of nature.

Ralph took a step back. "That's a contaminant!" he cried, pointing his gun at the digital spider.

"I prefer a more hands-on approach," said Bobby. She walked over to the hand and to Ralph's horror, she picked it up as if it were a housecat and she flung it out the way she'd entered. She put a finger to her lip. "Or is this more hands-off?"

This stranger was unlike any other Ralph had ever met, and that included the Burmese world champion archer who spent most her days in the Barnes & Noble. Bobby allowed him to inspect her and to his great disgust she seemed to take pleasure in it. Afterward, they put the barricade back together again and Bobby's strength took Ralph by storm—she carried cinder blocks as if they were matches and with her assistance it took no more than fifteen minutes to get it all back together again.

He escorted her up to the HQ. Every other minute or so, she dragged him into an abandoned store. "You're not here to go shopping," Ralph grumbled.

She laughed. "Oh, but I told you that was why I came. I needed a new outfit."

Eventually they made their way up to the security room, past the guards armed to their dentures, and Ralph introduced Bobby to the legend himself—William Moore.

The King of the Birds took one look at her and gave a great sigh. "Oh, wonderful," he said. "You've killed us all, Ralph."

Ralph didn't understand. "Huh?"

"I guess I never told you explicitly. I told you not to let any zombies inside, but I never said the same about vampires."

"... Vampires?"

Bobby grinned, baring her fangs.

Bloodhaven.

A massive fortress of a city that had grown from the tiny shopping mall we had cleared out and now loomed over the central valley like a dark lords castle. The fertile land that had once surrounded it was now a thick forest that had grown with super natural speed.

Turns out zombies were great fertilizer.

Ever since we made that desperate deal as some of the last humans on earth, the vampires haven't been hiding, save to avoid the sun. They quickly became our leaders, escorting more survivors to the growing settlements in exchange for more and more blood.

They handled the fighting.

We were left with everything else. They told us to farm, produce food, to make off springs.

It should have been fine.

It should have been fine.

Zombies didn't show up to Bloodhaven anymore.

It should have been fine.

But it wasn't.

Deserters were hunted down and killed their families drain in front of them or turned into feral vampire creatures that murdered without reason in search for blood.

We were slaves.

I leaned back against the tree sucking on an orange as I allowed my body to recover from it's most recent draining. Chances are they'd increase tribute once again in the coming years. They wanted to keep us too weak to run to weak to fight back.

There was a reason they had been in hiding before the zombies after all.

A twig snapped from behind me and I jumped to my feet my heart pounding at the thought of a zombie showing up. Instead what I saw was worse. Covered in fur standing on two legs their hulking frames were nearly twice that of a normal man's.

They stared at me.

I them.

"Ahh," I said slowly still aware of the sun on my back. "Werewolves I presume?"

The first nodded and stepped to the side making way for a shirtless man that commanded respect. He spoke with a rough snarl "do you want to fight back?"

He gestured towards bloodhaven.

"Want to be free?"

Julia had plenty of nails, but was running out of boards. Done properly, each of these windows would be completely boarded up, but she had to settle for three boards each, with one of them artfully placed at a diagonal that seemed hurried when in fact she had spent three minutes with a protractor to align each one.

She'd argued with the others on whether the boards should be placed outside or inside, and they'd settled for inside, because although the zombies seemed more able to push them in then pry them off, it was better to be able to fix them while defending. She kind of wished she had screws.

She finished just as the sun was setting. The keening wail arose as she returned the hammer and box of nails to their stockpiles. She ignored it. If you couldn't hear the moaning as well, they were still a ways off.

The floodlights sprang to life. The zombies didn't avoid them the way they did sunlight, but it seemed to slow them down. She picked up her crossbow from where she'd left it. Somebody had gone around during the day and retrieved most of the bolts. She hated when that job came up on the chore wheel. The bolts weren't even sticky, Tarquin did a better job of cleaning them then some of the crew.

She climbed up to the roof and gathered at a post with the rest of the night crew. They'd already pulled up the ladder and were handing out the polearms. Bullets were for emergencies only.

The moaning was audible now. Lots of moaning, it was a big horde.

Tarquin stood on an old milk crate to address the crew. "Places, everyone. You know the score. Bounders first, ignore the shamblers. Shout if you see any Climbers. Julia, you're on task to point out the herd leader. This is a big group, if we can get them squabbling amongst themselves, all the better."

Julia took their pair of binoculars and began scanning the horde. None of them seemed to be directing it, but there was always one in some sort of charge. Get them and the horde would lose its cohesion. With a horde this size, the leader would probably be a Climber.

As she scanned them, and yelled to the others. "The group is avoiding the outer traps. They're going around the kill zone in front of the gate and headed right towards that weak spot in the fence. Whoever's in charge of this group is a smart one."

Tarquin was holding the rifle. "Just find them and tell me who to shoot."

As the Bounders reached the fence, the first crossbow bolts flew. All of them struck flesh, the crew was getting good. The Shamblers all continued churning around in their horde, slowly making their way forward.

Julia continued her search with the binoculars. "Something seems off."

Tarquin looked through his rifle sight. "Yeah, and the wailing just stopped."

The horde seemed to split in two. Julia could see zombies flying into the air and smash into clumps of others. A different wail arose among them as the horde turned and began to shamble away. The Bounders ran ahead, abandoning the rest. The Shamblers continued to fall. Soon there was only one figure left.

Julia could see it clearly in her field glasses. A single blood-splattered figure, walking slowly over the mounds of dead zombies, approaching the compound. It hesitated briefly at the edge of the floodlights, then walked slowly to stand a few dozen yards from the building.

One of the crew loosed a bolt. "Damn it, Hold, you idiots. I wanted to see what this thing was," Tarquin shouted. The figure hadn't fallen. It held the bolt in one hand, where it had caught it.

"One. One crossbow bolt, ah, ah, ah." The figure's laugh was distinctive. "Do not fire another. I am here to offer my help against the corrupted ones."

"Who are you?" Tarquin was pointing the rifle at him.

"I am your savior. A True Child of the Night. One who Hungers. Allow me to approach." The figure didn't wait. They rose up in the air and floated onto the roof.

Tarquin kept the rifle pointed at them. "You didn't answer the question."

"I am one of the Vampyr. Did you not pick that up from the black cape? I mean it's a bit stereotypical, but it really does help with the flying." The figure's cape looked like they had picked it up at a Spirit Halloween store.

"Do you have a name?"

"Call me Lord. Call me Master. Call me Draco, I don't care. Put the gun down, it wouldn't do you any good. I have come to offer you a deal. A simple one. I protect you from the corrupted ones. You feed me. There are enough of you here that none of you need die. It has been getting very hard to find uncorrupted humans and I hunger greatly."

The crew looked at one another. They were tired. They had been tired for weeks. None of them showed fear of the vampire. Julia could tell what decision they would make.

Tarquin grew bold. "You don't like the taste of zombie blood, eh? 'Cause we got plenty of that."

The vampire wrapped his cape around himself. "We cannot feast on the blood of other vampires."

[More writing at r/c_avery_m]

The smell of death is thick in the air, suffocating all who dare venture close to the border of the compound and causing all those within a miles radius to crinkle their nose. The source is obvious: stacks of maggot-coated limbs and torsos arranged like great walls around the perimeter of our land.

That wasn't the initial plan. At first, we'd tried to burn the bodies. Yet, since "The Pact", there were simply too many to burn. Instead, we'd had to make use of them - After all, even before the outbreak recycling was a key part of life. The vampires agreed, of course - They agreed with everything we said, so long as we gave them our blood. In fact, they even built the walls. It's not like they can catch any diseases from the corpses anyway. Atlhough I can't imagine it was a pleasant job.

Suddenly, my arm tenses. I stop looking from the window and watch as the blood surrounding the two little punctures in my arm miraculously congeals. Dracs stands up, stretching before wiping a spot of blood from his pale lips. "I can feel the strength coming back to me already," he sighs before offering me his hand and pulling me up. "Shall we get to it then?" I nod, still a little weak from the loss of blood.

We leave the blood donating room, exiting from the clinically clean box of a room (furnished with only a chair), into the musty corridors of Bassett Hall. While we try to clean the house, it is old, and the cobwebs always persist, decorating the fading blue walls. Additionally, dust continues to sit deep in the rich red carpets, with no vacuum cleaners left to draw it out. A spider falls onto my arm; I swat it away. Sometimes, it feels like the spider population is increasing at the rate the human population is collapsing. From further down the corridor comes the sound of the kitchen staff shouting and the clattering of kitchenware. Upstairs, there's laughter from the designated dorm and recreation rooms. From the far end of the house, someone wails in our makeshift infirmary.

Entering the entrance hall, the carpet changes to glimmering white tiles, and the roof is much taller. A golden chandelier hangs over us, and opposite the front door is a double staircase leading to the upper floors. Before the outbreak, anyone would say we were living it large. Yet, I would trade every gram of gold and wealth in the house for a proper meal and a full stomach. Although, the size of the building allows for at least some personal space, especially before the vampires came. That's something to be grateful for - I'm sure the sods still alive in the cities would kill for such a luxury.

Dracs and I exit the house. Immediately, the stench of death strengthens. Yet, out here, it is silent save for the murmuring of the farmers as they painstakingly work the land.

We walk a little through the rolling grass fields towards the wall that stands several hundred meters from the hall. Suddenly, there is a tearing sound and a female figure bursts into existence before us. Her hair is styled in a similar fashion to a 90s punk star, and she wears a ragged-looking trench coat to accompany her ragged-looking attire. "Good afternoon, Mary," I say. "Pulled the short straw again?" She laughs, looking at my arm. "I swear no one else has to donate blood on the same day as baiting." "Tell me about it," I grumble. "Well, let's get it over with." Dracs, Mary, and I then walk together, nearing the wall which stands five foot high. We stop at a small storage shack, from which Dracs takes a rectangular metal cage about six feet in height. Effortlessly, he straps it to his back (the cage looking almost small compared to his broad 8-foot frame). Mary lifts me up, putting me snugly in the cage and locking it. "Here we go," Mary cries. My ears pop, my heart skips a beat, and my stomach drops as if I'm falling. Then, in the blink of an eye, we're standing on the other side of the wall. Quickly, the two vampires leave, hiding in a small block of trees. "It's show time," I mutter to myself.

Zombies are drawn to sound and human flesh. At the start of the pandemic, that was why the worst hoards were in the cities. Yet, once the urban areas were ravaged, the monsters had to start going to quieter regions to find their much-desired flesh. Soon, hoards travelled cross-country, straining their rotting ears for sounds only humans can make. By the third year of the apocalypse, most of the population was dead, and zombies wandered every corner of the world. Suddenly, being the only place where humans dwelled for hundreds of miles, our base at Bassett Hall became a core attraction for many hoards of zombies. The vampires saved us. Yet, even so, a big enough army of Z's would strain our defences or even end us, so we started baiting. That's what I'm doing now: Luring the zombies to be slaughtered before they can form too big a hoard.

I begin, wacking the bars of the cage so they clang and shouting so loudly my throat goes raw. A minute later, the hunched figures of the undead appear on the horizon, hobbling towards me with intense desire. An hour later, the cage is swarmed as they try and fit their grubby hand through the bars like children reaching for free sweets. Now, I stand tense and straight, waiting for the vampire duo to do their job. CRACK.

Like lighting, the two strike the mini hoard, tearing through the bodies as a car breaks through the snow. Black blood splatters me, painting me like modern art, and, despite experience, I still find myself shaking and scrunching my face up as if I was a human pug. Soon, the Z's all lie dead, their heads struck from their bodies, their torsos and limbs ready for the wall. This is why we signed "The Pact." After all, the vampires may be creepy, pale, and drink our blood, but nothing quite matches their awe-inspiring power. We need them as they need us, and until the day all the Z's are wiped from the Earth, and maybe a little longer, our truce with them will stand.

I worked at a blood donation clinic before the war started. My co-workers and I managed to turn the plaza into our survival base. More people came. Slowly we managed to build a small community.

Compared to the old world it was awful, but now we were better off than 90% of other survivors. We made a legal system, and a set of rules to live by. One of these was that all who could safely do so, must donate blood. We kept a fresh supply ready in case of an incident. Around 6 months in, we even realized that I fast enough transfusion could stay the effects of a zombie bite

For a while it looked like we would pull through like this indefinitely. Then after the second year, things suddenly took a turn. We thought if we waited long enough the zombies would die out. What we didn't account for was how desperate a creature gets when it's starving. They began laying siege to our city. There were more zombies out there than we had people who could fight. The engineers told us the walls would only hold for a few more weeks.

That's when it happened. We got a report from the western watchtower tower of a single man slicing down a hole hoard. The zombies just ignored him. We brought him inside thinking he had some special repellent, or a transparent armour. In reality, he was a vampire, and his named Adalwin. A few years ago we would laughed, but after what we've seen, it seemed as dead serious as anything else.

Turns out vampires are reasonable people. They avoid human blood whenever they can. For mileania they've most subsisted on livestock, but with the collapse of widescale husbandry, they've started to get desperate. It was tragic to hear what he told us about a man he knew for centuries turning feral, and mascaraing a group of survivors.

Adalwin offered us a deal of protection. Zombies ignore vampires because they can't be infected, but zombie blood is no good for vampires. He would send singles for his 10 friends to come to our city. They would clear out the hoards, but in exchange would have free access to our blood supply.

The problem though is that they would need to drink most of our blood. The mandatory donations weren't popular, but most people knew it was worth it to have the emergency supply. Having to explain to them that they would still have to give just as much, but have less for transfusion would not go over well. What choice do we have though? Either we take this deal on the vampires terms, or Aldwin leaves the hoarde to storm the city, and he has promised that he will not let the blood in our vienes will not go to waste before he leaves

"That seems... unwise", said the human. "Vampires? I'm inclined to believe you are one, after seeing what I didn't believe could exist", referring to the zombie horde. "But the tales of vampires say you kill humans too. Now you want us to let a crowd of vampires into our compound? That sounds just as bad as falling to the zombies."

"It's true we, my kind, us vampires, feed on humanity", said the vampire. "But we are also pragmatic. We need human blood to survive. Zombie blood doesn't sustain us, it makes us sick. If the zombies win this war we will lose too, for a lack of blood. We are parasites. We don't want the host to die. Our interests align."

"Even if I agree, what help can you provide? There are tens, perhaps hundreds of millions of zombies. How many are you?"

The vampire's red eyes bore into the human's. "A scant few thousand. The stories about us have always overestimated our threat, to cower humans away from active resistance. But the zombies are mindless, driven by their ravening yearning for flesh and brain matter. We are not. Our strength is as the hurricane. And, you humans excel at tactical planning."

"A Faustian bargain indeed." Arms crossed, the human regarded the vampire with a calculating view. "Can you limit the amount of blood you drink? The stories say vampires completely drain blood, killing people."

"Yes. As I said, we are parasites. The loss of one human didn't used to matter, when you numbered in the billions. Now you do not. Killing one of you puts us in danger." What might have been a smile passed the vampire's lips. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

TW: gore, abrasive language.

There were seven of us. That was all that was left. As far as we inew, at least.

We had taken shelter in a brick walled office building. It was probably built back in the 60s or 70s. Not very much in the way of windows. Sucked to work there, but now it meant we could pile junk up in a hallway and cut off an entire entry point. Easy to fortify.

There were a few women, my friend Monty, and a couple dudes. Two of them wore polo shirts, the typical blue collar white males. One was an older man dressed like a hobo, long beard and torn up sport jacket. And me, Wallace. Wally. Most of us were sitting in shock. We had gotten back from a food run. Nobody died and we easily outran the straglers, but the state of the city had put us into a really bad headspace. We were kind of sitting around, not talking, staring. The old hobo was asleep facing the wall.

I wasn't even really shocked when they came. The national guard and the state troopers fell so quickly, none of us had heard from the feds- the world was so twisted after the undead began rising out of the earth and feeding on us all, well. I think I was beyond being shocked.

There was a man outside. Just standing out in the parking lot against the rear entrance. I thought he was a zombie at first. I went to the window, a story above him, and looked down. The sun was setting behind him and he looked up slowly. Then he lifted a hand and beckoned me.

I went down to the door.

The glass was broken out, making it easy to speak. The stranger came to the door. He was oddly motionless, like no part of his body was able to move until he thought about it. It was robotic in a way. His eyes caught the last rays of light, and they reflected like a cat's eyes, but amber. He had no fat in his face or neck, and his clothes were dingy brown.

"May I come in?"

"Hell no. Are you bitten?"

His head moved oddly, turned slightly.

"No. Not in the way you think. I was bitten over seventy years ago."

I wanted to think he was psychotic. The guy was 40 at the oldest. He might have been younger if he was a tweaker. Not 70.

"Listen we haven't got time for your bullshit. We aren't playing and we don't welcome crazies. Get the fuck out of here before you get shot, or some goobers wander through and catch you standing in the open."

The man turned and began to walk away. I stayed to watch him. My heart was thudding for some reason. The man stopped. I felt my blood pressure spike. He turned 90 degrees and walked off.

Just one more bizarre day in the post apocalypse.

My whole body recoiled reflexively as a zombie slammed into the wall near the door. I tasted battery sharpness on my tongue. "Fuckin goober!" But the man was back, his hands on the neck of the zombie. He drug it to the door. It wasn't trying to turn around and bite him, it just kept lostlessly trying to crawl away, like a captured insect.

"I am not a man. I do not enjoy drawn out interactions. I am a kindred. A vampire."

I watched and he put his hand on the back of the zombies head, then closed his fist. Fingers dug through bone like it was a pastry. He scooped out the back of it's head.

I turned, started running up the stairs. He yelled behind me. "Tell your friends I want to come to an arrangement."

I talked to everyone else. We went down ther together, with crosses made out of scrap and weapons. The thing stared at us in that inhuman way, amused by the religion bit. It told us it needed a herd. Feeding stock. Not only that, but there were a dozen others in it's group. They would protect us, feed us - all we had to do was let them in.

It only took a little math to figure out that seven of us wouldn't bleed every night to feed a dozen monsters. Not for long. We told it no. And like psychos everywhere, that is when the switch flips.

I had assumed the vampire couldn't come in without an invite. As I discovered later, there are all sorts of weird religions in their society, and this guy had a proscription against violating someone's hearth. Hunger, though, forced his hand. He bent the metal door in enough to stick his head through and swore to come back with his friends, and fucking kill us all after raping us unconscious.

So that is why we're currently sharpening everything wooden we can find. The old man is still sleeping in the corner, being unhelpful.

There's a bang at the door. We barricaded it more than we ever had. Goobers couldn't get through. I'm not too shocked when I go down the hall towards the door and see the second floor hallway is already crowded. Humanoid figures loiter, their eyes occasionally glinting amber. Staring.

Monty comes out of the toilet, between us. "Oh fu-"

One of the other guys in the group grabs me as Monty disappears behind all the bodies, too fast for me to have made it three steps, much less save him. I see his arms fly, separated from his body.

I'm drug back into the conference room we sleep in, sobbing.

I hear a bang at the conference room door.

"Where's the old man?" One of the women says.

There's another bang, but it's not at the door. It's somewhere further down, like a wall. A scream. That.. sick popping, ripping sound that I've only just been introduced to after Monty.. It goes on for a bit, then it goes quiet.

The anxiety is too much, and I open the door.

The hallway is a gore fest. The carpet isn't visible under all the blood. It smells like shit and copper and something else that makes me ill, like raw chicken. I can't place it. And the parts are everywhere. Everywhere.

The old man is there at the far end of the hall, He's holding one of the vampires up by the arm. I watch him grab the poor bastards' head, and slowly pull it out like it was some giant tick sitting on his shoulders, a little flopping spinal cord hanging from it's stump. Then he lifts it up to his face. He opens his mouth and bites into it, and his teeth go through bone like frosting on a cake.

I see his eyes shine amber, as he looks over at me.

The man peeled back his hood to reveal a sharp, pale face with blood red eyes. His fact was gaunt, almost skeletal now -- so different from the last time Lara had come face to face with him.

Of course, she probably didn't look much better. Lara wiped at the dirt smudges that undoubtedly streaked across her whole face, careful to keep the dirty, bandaged sleeves away from her mouth and eyes.

"Malakai," she said, careful to keep her face expressionless. "To what do we owe this honor?" She poured a cup of water, and set it on the rickety wooden table in front of him. He ignored it.

Her fists clenched as she sat down opposite to him. The last time they'd met face to face like this, he still had golden skin tanned from years of working under the sun and rough, weather-worn hands from hard labor. He'd begged her to join him, saying they'd never work another day in their lives, that they would never have to worry about going hungry again.

How ironic.

"How have you been?" he asked, a slight lisp to the words from his fangs.

She snorted. What a meaningless question in a world like this. "What do you want?" she asked again.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by her blunt attitude. "I'll make things simple then. Blood, in exchange for protection."

Lara fell silent. Their supplies would only last them a couple more days, and they desperately needed to move toward Everett to find more fertile lands in which to grow crops. But with their current numbers and just one pickup truck still capable of making the journey, it would be nigh impossible to get everyone out.

It was a deal she had to take. If not for herself, then for the fifteen others who were relying on her to do what it took for them to survive. She closed her eyes. The deep, guttural groans of the horde outside were ever-present these days, assaulting their senses every waking moment. She could see it in the dead, hopeless expressions on the others even as they did their rounds.

But it wasn't that simple. Small encampments had been disappearing as of late, and word on the street was that it wasn't the work of the zombie horde. She'd seen one of the abandoned camps on their weekly supply runs. The fences had still been intact, only the supplies inside seemingly ransacked by others. But perhaps most telling, the crops had remained undisturbed.

"No," she responded simply.

He stared at her, the depths of his eyes swirling. "No?" he asked, seemingly incredulous.

"I'll see you out," she said, standing up. She didn't bother with the usual niceties of wishing him luck or bidding him a good day.

"This would be good for both of us." He stood up. "You should take some time to consider it. I'll return in three days." He kept his gaze on her, even as they walked toward the encampment's walls, as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he simply put up his hood again, once again hiding his deeply inhuman features.

Lara's lips thinned into a straight line. She gestured to Goffrey to open the front gate.

Faster than she could blink, Malakai was gone.

As soon as the gates came back down, she stalked toward the other end of the camp to the cookhouse, where everyone else had gathered for dinner. Everyone quieted as she walked through the doors, perhaps reading the dark expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked, setting her fork down.

"We've just received a visit from a vampire," Lara answered.

The relative quiet became an eerie hush.

"He offered protection in exchange for blood."

She let the weight of the words settle, taking in everyone's worried expressions. She knew the questions on their minds. How could they trust the vampires? Did she take the deal?

She took in a deep breath, trying to calm her own nerves. She didn't know whether the decision she was about to make was the right one. Maybe she was wrong, and this was a mistake. "I didn't take their offer. They gave us three days to reconsider, but I think their intention is to make us take the deal, whether we want to or not."

"What do we do then?" Maisie asked, her eyes wide in fear.

We take the gamble, even if it means being eaten alive by a horde of brainless monsters. We do everything in our power to avoid being turned into blood-bags by monsters faster, stronger, and more powerful than us.

"We pack up everything and leave. Tonight."

The sound of the horde constantly filled the air like the sound of crickets used to. There are not more night songs, only the constant reminder of the undead. Yet, all this added to the nightly ritual on the inside of the compound walls; storytime. Each night one of the adults would take turns telling stories to the children to help them sleep, cope or even rationalize what the world had become.
Cris had been assigned guard duty at the front gates. She heard bodies falling, heard the crackling of bones and dried twigs giving way under the fury of the mysterious stranger plowing its way through the horde. The moon hid behind the impending winter storm clouds, so it was hard to tell what was going on beyond her line of sight. She kept watching where she heard the disturbance. 
Several were around the fire pit, not far from the main gate. From there, along the wall line, it was easier to escape into several hiding places inside the walls in case of a breach. Sam's shadow cast a fierce picture as the fire burned before him, and his dark twin danced with the wind behind. As the flames flicked to and fro, so did the shadow. 
Cris let out a whistle, sounded like she was singing, but it was how some elders warned of danger on the inside. 
Sam raised his hands, clapped, and rushed his story to a fitting end. "Time for bed." He pointed toward the wall. "Everyone, find your place."
Gigi growled a little, as the eight-year-old hated not sleeping in her own special place. "I don't want to play this again." 
Sam smiled, but some others could see the tension in how he stood near the fire. Shadows do not lie. 
Lilla quietly made her way behind Gigi. "Look, you hear what's out there. You know what's in here. We all have to be smart; tonight, we are playing smart."  She gingerly pushed Gigi toward the wall so the children could find their way to the hidden places within the wall.
"Come on now." Sam motioned to the rest of the children and a few other adults. Once everyone was on the move, he pointed to Cam, Jones, and Hinley. 
Cris stopped whistling as the dark stranger finally closed in on the compound, leaving behind a trail of dead bodies. "Fu.. me." She whispered. 
The others climbed the ladder and soon joined Cris to see what happened. 
Cris called down as she tried to look at the stranger better. " ... the hell?" 
"For all of us, hell on earth." The cloaked woman looked like she was wearing a royal Ren Festival costume. "Have I missed storytime?"
Sam heard and looked at the others before calling down. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I was hoping to hear the end of the kindred story. I desire to know what happened to Alice, Blade, and the one called Spike." She did not look up or attempt to breach their gates. 
"..the fuc.." Sam said.
Cris stopped him before he could say anymore. "Who are you?" She asked. 
The others were ready with weapons in hand to defend the walls and what was inside the walls. 
"I think the better question you should ask, m'dear is what can I do for you, Crissss." The woman drew out the name. "Enough dead has been cleared, but others are on the way. I'm here to offer a deal between your kind and mine, a peace offering, something to help your kind and mine."
Sam shook his head. "Not until you tell us who the hell you are." 
"Samuel, master historian, teller of tales, protector of many, oath breaker, and unloyal companion. Do not tell me you have forgotten already. The dream you had days ago hunting north of here. I heard you screaming without a word. Such powerful dreams, as I imagine it is where you find the stories. I am hurt that you have forgotten." 
Cris looked at Sam and demanded to know, "Sam?" 
The others murmured in agreement.
Sam shook his head, trying to remember what the woman was talking about, but answered the others. "I told you I was late because I was hunting, was tired, sat down, fell asleep, and returned with the deer. There was no one, nothing." 
"Not even in your dreams, dear Sammuel?"  
"My dreams are none of your business." He was quiet a moment.
Cris asked, "Sam, what did you dream about?"
"Nightmares, vampires, and a woman named Agatha. She followed me in my dreams, on the edge of each one as they played over and over. The memories were shows, binged shows from years ago. You know this Cris, I tell the stories, mix them up. Same for the dreams, they are mixed up, but this woman was on the edge of all of them listening, lurking, and watching." Sam growled out his answer.
"And how did you know my name?" The stranger asked.
Cris and the others watched Sam.
"She said she could help provide for us if we fed others like her with blood. It was a fucking dream, a damn dream. Vampires aren't real. I asked her name, and she said she was Agatha; she needed blood and would help if I helped her. I woke up soon after, the stag I shot was there, that's it. That's fucking it." Sam shouted and hit his fist on the upper railing. "That's fucking it, it was a dream. A damn dream." 
"Sammuel, do you believe this is a dream now?" Agatha asked. 
The sound of the horde returned; they were getting closer. 
"Do you Sam? If so, you should wake soon. Very soon."

The town we had built for ourselves was quite fortified , it had to be , the zombies just never stopped , mindless though they may seem , determined they most definitely are.

This night something was different though … it was quiet… to quiet… we had scraped up some nightvisions gear from a tech store as we used it to scout the area around town from crude towers we built

“ look at them in the farm fields we built , why are they out there? “ the lead guardsman asked me

“ I’m not sure… but they look like they are messing with our crops…. Do they intend to starve us out? “

The next day the horde amassed around our farms , we saw zombies fried to a crisp on the fence surrounding it , seems they just kept piling on it until the generators died… the bastards … that’s our food for this month….

As night broke the horde grew emboldened and starting creeping towards the town… they had never done this before , I knew it was going to be a bloody battle , I sounded the alarm to rally everyone crude armor to protect from bites , reusable weapons , we were prepared but this horde was massive…

Suddenly we picked up several humans , atleast they looked like humans sweeping through the horde , hundreds if not thousands were downed in minutes… the figures appeared at our front gate bruised and cut , some with bites and made a perimeter

“ open the gate and let us in “ the one I could best describe as a leader shouted

“ what the hell are you , you move to fast to be people “ I shouted back

“ because we are not people! Gragh…. I can smell it… I hunger…. please you are the last human colony in miles and we need …. Sustenance “

“ sustenance? You intend to eat us? Hell to the fucking no , get lost or we will shoot you “

“ no wait, we just need blood , not to kill anyone , animal blood is to scarce now and these things make us sick if they are not fresh , we will all die without humans…. Yes…. Humans …. Delicious blood … ARGH the hunger “

“ what benefit do we get from you then for this trade huh , why should we bother “

“ isn’t it obvious ? The zombies are learning , they are driven , and they will break in eventually , you humans get one bite and your dead and one of them in a few hours , us though…. We can’t be turned…. And we are fast… and strong… we will fight them for you … we can even go gather materials from the city… “

It was an enticing offer…. The zombies did seem to grow in numbers no matter how many we destroyed …. But there would have to be rules…. And a town wide decision….

“ I will… consider it , but before I even go and talk to my people there’s some ground rules , no one sick can be taken a tithe , nor can our main guards , or any of the children or anyone who outright refuses. And absolutely under no circumstances can you turn anyone to a vampire “

“ yes we accept those terms please , the hunger gnaws at my mind “

I called a meeting of the towns leadership roles , though most were hesitant at first , we knew at this rate that we would be starving in a week … and we had some blood bags that would not be fresh much longer…. It was settled , I grabbed several bags from the makeshift care centre we had and headed back to the gate

At the top I threw the bags over to the leader “ an offering of good faith, now can I except one back from you? “

The vampires ravaged at the blood bags the leader drained one entirely on his own, he seemed to become relaxed after eating.

“ thank you humans , even if you did not agree to let us in this wolf stave off the hunger for a time… the madness of hunger… we don’t like what we become… as for our gesture of good faith… let us manage this horde of yours” with a snap of his fingers the vampires rushed through the zombies , heads and limbs were flying , after close to 30 minutes the entire horde was just a pile of corpses strewn about , the gaurds for the town walked out to see the damage to our walls and farm , the vampires started dragging the corpses away to our “compost bin” while the leader walked up to the gate again , though open he did not enter “ I hope that offering is satisfactory “

I was astonished by what I had seen but I knew we had already decided “ we came to a decision , we will let you in on those conditions mentioned, if you harm or turn anyone without their choosing you will be exiled without question “

The leader bowed and looked back up “ thank you kindly , you will not regret this, and I assure you we will behave as without you , we will sure starve to madness”

The vampires chose a small corner of the town to set up there “colony” , they were not what I expected them to be at first , friendly , easy to talk to… after time they became proper citizens , most townsfolk willingly gave a little blood when they could , our numbers stopped dwindling from zombie attacks , and things felt… peaceful almost…

[deleted]

"Commander, they're back," one of my troops informs me as I look over the inventory list. As soon as I look up he racks his shotgun and follow me out to stand on the compound wall with the rest of the men.

It's an "all hands on deck" situation. Everyone is on the wall that can hold a gun. My people aim down at the half-dozen vampire warriors swiftly killing off the few zombies that had stumbled in since yesterday's meeting. I pray my people keep calm and professional. I know how tempting it would be to pop one of these vamps right now.

With the zombies dead a group of cloaked people approached. I recognize from her height that it is the vampire mistress and her handmaidens. She had promised me something tonight that would guarantee trust between the two communities, but I still doubt she can provide.

Too many people think the vampires started the zombie outbreak. People think it was a vampire attempt at bioengineering the ability to walk around in the daylight. Most clans just enslaved humans anyways. This had to be a trick.

But negotiations with The Mistress has been going on for 2 months. Intel says she had 7 vamps to her colony including herself with 3 human familars. She had more humans, but a rival vampire gang took everyone and destroyed her compound.

As she get closer I take the rope elevator down to met her just outside the wall. She steps up to me and i look up at her expectantly. It's hard for me to feel sorry for a vampire, especially in a world that has produced so much misery for the innocent.

She looks down at me and reaches in her robe for something, and you hear the men on the wall shout a warning. I hold up my hand to stop them from firing on her!

"Regardless of your choice Commander," She says, "Whether you let us in or keep us out." She produces a sleeping infant child. "Take the girl. Keep her safe."

"What?" I find myself saying.

"She was one of my Handmaidens, before the Andria Clan took her," the tall vampire says to me. She looks down, almost shy. " The child is Emily. I-I can't have her around. I can't feed on her. Its too tempting and dangerous. She needs to be safe, and with people."

She hands me the child, Emily, and the kid starts to cry. I stand there dumbfounded as the loud kid screams it's lungs out. A couple zombies come walking along towards to noise to get shot by a guard or sliced by a vampire sword. I can hear laughter from both sides.

"So you want to keep her safe?" I ask.

"Yes, Commander. I want to keep everyone safe." She replies.

"Welcome to Fort Brom, Mistress. " I said as I shook her hand. Both sides let out a round of cheers.

It was that time again. A horde was passing by and somehow found the camp. This time however, the survivors were low on ammo, and most of them were injured after a supply run gone wrong. They were ready to go down swinging, as humans tend to do. "An admirable quality, their willingness to face impossible odds." said a cloaked figure on the edge of the nearby woods watching the horde shamble closer.

"Impossible odds for them maybe, they really are so frail its hard to believe they ever pushed us to obscurity" whispered a tall woman, her cold eyes glowing in the darkness. "And now here we are about to save them for our own survival... ironic" she continued, unholstering her scythe in a practiced motion, as his partner readied his axes.

They shared only the slightest look before rushing into the horde, two grey blurs carving a path of destruction in their wake. It took 5 minutes, and the horde was all but wiped out, the few that managed to crawl past them got gunned down by the human guards, who cheered once no undead were left standing. Well, except the vampires of course, who began a leisurely walk towards the castle, slowly cleaning as much of the undead gore as they could.

Thats when the survivors got a good look at them, seeing their light gray skin and cold glowing eyes. In other circumstances they would be scared but in this case they were just happy to be alive.

"Greetings oh so fragile mortals" the woman said, smiling at them showing her fangs. "Cut the theatrics Liz, you know time is short! We come to you offering a deal between your people and mine." the hooded one spoke up, staring hungrily at one of the guards, who after a moment of silence responded "What kind of deal? And who even are you, I thought we were the only colony left in this region" only to be met with laughter. "Do you really not recognize our kind mortal, have you truly forgotten you pitiful souls?" asked Liz, with a mix of amusement and offense.

Clearly agitated, the other vampire interrupted her "There will be time for questions later, for now know that we offer protection, whatever supplies you desire and a much more defensible position in exchange for some of your blood, so we don't starve. You've seen what we can do, think on our offer, we'll return tomorrow at midnight"

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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