Extremely Short Vampire Stories | ONGOING |

Horrible

Jeremiah crumpled his nose at the vild scent emanating from the bodies laying at his feet. Every breath he took was painful, the sensitivity of his nostrils did nothing but worsen the putrid Musk. The scent of death.

“Anything?” The woman enquired. Jerimiah had always thought ill of her. She was the epitome of the word sex, he was surprised she could take some time out of her mountains of mounts to ride. To assist in lreserving the human race.

Atleast every supernatural being in their province had gotten their slates sated by this woman over the centuries. Both men and women. Victoria Bine. The supernatural realms concubine.

“Hello?” She bellowed, her pouty lips twisted in one of annoyance. Silly me I forgot she had made an enquiry, Jeremiah thought dryly to himself. He did not care in the least. Feeling compelled by his order to comply with the orders given, he faced her.

With a lopsided grin that didn't meet his eyes he said, “Nothing but this vile scent.” He did not hide his distaste for her, “Something you might be accustom to.”

She did not reply, instead she continued shuffling through the mountain of rotten humans piling at their feet. Jeremiah wondered if she had heard his last comment.

Yet another plague had swept the human race, Jerimiah had lived to see the human race experience many mishaps over the centuries but nothing like this, atleast the rest were by natural causes. This one was awakened by a Necromancer Jeremiah thought and so did thr council. Black lines of evil marred the lips of the lifeless vessels splayed beneath his feet, their skin darkened and battered. No mere human made sickness could cause such a bizzare disaster.

Vampires were sworn protecters of the human race, with their vow to feed from their cattles and wolves, mountain lions and lepards they fulfilled their purpose. However they did not see this one coming. They would have the council to answer to, to have miss-

“Jerimiah...”

On impulse his head shot up,  his eyes meeting the horrified ones of his subordinate. “What is it?” He said stiffly. But she said nothing but stare at something behind an old beaten well.

Huffing he shuffled over,  “If this is one more of-” Jerimiah didn't notice the air stopped at his lungs, or his inability to blink and pick his mouth off the dirtied bodies.

Before them was a shedding, the shedding of skin. Which could only mean one thing.

Jerimiah stared at his colleague their eyes mirroring each others reflection.

The Serpent Queen had awoken.

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This is from a story that has been plaguing my mind for quite some time. Tell me if I should leave it as it is or make an actual novel.