The Vampire King's Weapon

I shifted nervously in the tightly spaced interview room, my eyes darting from side to side in panic, the sharp metal chair beneath my frame cool and torturing as my body shook in apprehension, weary of what was to come. The officers quickly took their own seats across from me, a rusted and dull scent filling the room, their eyes dark and judging as they watched me, waiting for me to begin my story. A story I never thought I would have to tell. I turned my eyes from them and searched the room, counting four camera’s that were placed in each corner, each one capturing my fearful state. But it wasn’t the officers that scared me, or the dully lit room, no, it was the people I was running from that I feared, their eyes reminding me of an endless night. The walls of the room were coated in layers of mud, and the floors were just as bad, causing me to wonder whether it was ever cleaned, or if it was simply to intimidate anyone who entered it.

The first officer slammed a large stack of paper onto the table, causing me to flinch and gasp in shock, his eyes now filled only with the desire to learn all that I knew. My terror-stricken quivers worsened as the second officer handed me a tissue, indicating that I should wipe the flowing tears from my cheeks; the skin around my eyes swollen and puffy.

Great, I sighed, good cop, bad cop; just what I need. Did they really think that the stereotypical scenario would work? That it would force me into telling them everything when that was already my intention?

“Right. Miss. Ariel Tweedie. I need you to start from the beginning once more, what happened?” The ‘Good Cop’ began the interrogation, his muddy brown hair a greasy heap that sat upon his head.

I sighed again, did I really have to go through it all again? I was getting tired of telling different members of the same damn police station the same story, the tale of how I came to be here. Why couldn’t they just believe me? I opened my mouth to speak when the ‘Bad Cop’ slammed his hand down on the table, his emerald eyes alight with fury. Anger I knew to be fake.

“I want the truth young lady, no more foolish stories.” He bellowed, slumping back into one of the metal chairs across from me.

I abruptly stood from my seat, my voice harsh and crackly. “I have already told you the truth!”

“Your story doesn’t match anything we have ever seen, are you sure there isn't something you have missed? Something you are neglecting to tell us?” The ‘Good Cop’ smiled softly, attempting to get me to tell them what I had been hiding. But, how could I? They would place me in a mental asylum.

“I was walking home from school, the way I always do. But this time I decided I would wait for my sister to finish work at the coffee shop, and with it being winter, it was already dark.” I paused, more tears flooding from my eyes as I recalled the events of the night before. “And that is when I saw them, four men down the small ally way next to the shop, they had my sister pinned to the wall as she screamed, then … they killed her...”

I stopped before I spoke the rest out loud, they had drained her of all her blood, I watched them do it, I wasn’t crazy. I had seen it before when my parents were murdered in our home. It was the same men, but they hadn't aged a day. But I had, seven years had passed since that day, and now they had come back to finish the job. Starting with my sister. They were … well, what I believed to be undead. Vampires.

I slumped back onto the harsh chair, dropping my head into my hands, I knew that I was next, that they would come for me. It was just a matter of when. Would it be tonight? Tomorrow night? In a week?

The ‘Good Cop’ leaned forward, “But how did they kill her? You must have some idea.”

“Perhaps the same way your parents died?” The ‘Bad Cop’ mocked.

“I don’t know, it was too dark. I couldn't get a closer look because once they noticed me I ran, I was afraid.” I whispered, perhaps if I had got to the shop sooner I would have faced the same fate.

The ‘Bad Cop’ slammed his hand down on the metal table once more, causing me to jump. “Who killed her!”

“I don’t know!” I lied, panting as I sobbed.

“Was it you?! Did you kill your sister?!” He shouted, scowling at me from across the table.

I gasped, shaking my head as tears streamed from my eyes. “NO!”

“You did it didn’t you? You killed her because you were jealous.” He accused me.

“I didn’t kill my sister!” I yelled, pushing my chair back as I stood, moving the leave the small interview room.

The ‘Good Cop’ blocked my path to the door. “Then who did?”

“The vampires!” I said suddenly, gasping as I took a step back. That was it, I would be sent to mad house for sure.

I placed a hand over my mouth, the tears stopping as abruptly as they had started, my heart racing in fear and apprehension. Why did I tell them that? I shouldn't have opened my mouth. I glanced between them, expecting them to burst into laughter at any second; only, the room fell silent, neither of them uttering a word.

The ‘Good Cop’ placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes filled with regrets and secrets. “finally. That is all we needed to know.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him, why was he so interested in me saying that it was vampires that killed my sister? I didn’t understand, I have heard of people being locked away for admitting something far less mythical.

Surely they didn’t believe me? They were messing with me, they had to be, Cops didn’t believe in the undead.

Did they?

The door opened and three men walked in, each one quickly showing me their badge. But they weren’t ordinary cops, they were from the FBI, their eyes vacant of life. I knew it right away, the realization was like a blow to the stomach ... they weren’t human. They didn’t blink, had no need for breath; nor did they move like me. Vampires. They were here. Had they come for me?

I took a step back in terror, panicked as I glanced between them, would they kill me for revealing their kind? I knew I was in serious trouble, yet there was no way out of the small interrogation room, the door blocked with their lifeless forms. Tears burst from my eyes as I stumbled, crashing into the hard concrete ground, my heart thumping in reckless motions against my chest.

“Do not panic. It is alright.” Said one of the undead, holding out his hand to help me stand. I knew this one to be called Edward, my photographic memory revealing the name from his badge.

I shoved his hand away, “Stay away from me! You are monsters.”