Evelyn Chartres Author
Bleed Through – Part I

Bleed Through – Part I

Edith Stone stood near a bench that overlooked a park that seemed to stretch out forever. This area was a popular place to spot some of the greatest minds in history. They would often congregate here, in a meeting of the minds, one that attracted a slew of onlookers.

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She was a woman in her early forties, and had this shine in her hazelnut eyes that never dulled. Her raven black hair and sunburned skin gave her an exotic look, but that was a byproduct of where she lived for the last years of her life.

Her feminine curves, fit physique and the sharp features served only to enhance her beauty. Unlike many who frequented this place, she opted to maintain her true form, flaws and all. Because, in her mind, it made her all the more human, even if she was anything but.

She was even proud of those deep scars that ran down her back. These were reminders of the hard life she endured, just like any hunter of her calibre.

While many of the patrons loved nothing more than to find Einstein and Newton indulging in their love of mathematics, Edith had no such interests. There was one person, and one person only she sought in this bazaar of human history’s finest.

“Did you know that you keep better time than a clock?” Angela asked from a distance.

Edith turned around and beamed a warm smile. Before her, stood that red headed child, she fell in love with over a century ago. Her pale skin, red hair and green eyes were ever-present, no matter what age she chose to appear as.

“You know, I prefer it when you come as you are,” Edith said.

This version of Angela was a young woman of immense beauty. At this age, her freckles had paled, while her figure had fully formed into the sultry body of a dancer. She had lips that beckoned, forever moist, and yearned for that intimate touch only her true love could provide.

Edith let a soft gasp escape her lips, the shock of seeing Angela in this form never failed to stir intense desire. Although to hear this one talk, one would think that her nose was her only redeeming feature. An opinion that Edith contested every time that subject came up.

The radiant redhead closed the distance between them, and embraced Edith who was both older and taller. For a second they stared longingly into each other’s eyes, while Angela traced her lover’s lips with a finger.

She then nibbled on her lower lip, feeling parts of her grow moist, compelling her to move closer, until their lips made contact. It was as though the ground trembled whenever they kissed, every time, a moment of pure bliss.

The immaculate park and its patrons faded into a fog, until only they remained. Their passion, this act of intimacy, did not need to be shared with every soul in proximity. Besides, their love for one another was never meant to be shared with the public. Even here, they were taboos that were not meant to be broken.

“Alone at last,” Edith said with a contented sigh.

“That’s why I chose this age,” Angela said. “How can I indulge in the sweet lips of an angel as a child?”

“True,” Edit answered while she subconsciously ruffled her white feathered wings.

Angela, despite her name, did not have a pair of her own. Her death may have been slow and excruciating at the hands of a ghoul, one that sensed the cancer consuming her from within, that had not been enough to warrant ascension.

Edith on the other hand, had dedicated the bulk of her life to hunting things that preyed on humanity. Or at least that was true, until she found a better cause to fight for.

She joined a band of women who were fighting for the right to practice their faith. A group that was being systematically hunted down by the government. Her original intent had been to gather intelligence, trying to root out the cause of this aggression. Was this nothing more than a tug of war between church and state? Or was there someone, or something pulling the strings in the background?

What she found was a sense of belonging that never materialised at the Tower, a secret order of hunters loosely aligned with the Church. The fact that she met a breathtakingly beautiful soul while infiltrating the group sealed the deal. Of course, as with most cases of love during a war, tragedy struck and took her away. Killed by a creature she had sworn to eradicate from the face of the earth.

That death had not only been traumatic, but it set something within the depths of her psyche. Edith had never been known for risk taking. She was the source of strength for the girls; a trait many rallied to in times of crisis, but that was also her greatest weakness.

Her heart torn, she ventured out to recover her lover’s body, but ended up getting captured by the local militia. Edith put up one hell of a fight, but what could a lone woman do against the combined force of an army? She did what many of her compatriots had done in her situation, pray for strength, even as they raped and tortured her. Despite weeks of brutal interrogation she held firm, and kept her wits about her, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

One of her captors had taken a liking to Edith’s body, and often claimed dominion over it. Since she was known to put up a fight, they normally secured her to a table as a precaution, forced to adopt a position that made her more cooperative. That time, he forgot to check the knots.

She choked the life out of him with the ropes used to bind her. For a moment Edith stared at this so-called man, whose trousers were puddled around his legs, and spat on his corpse in disgust. That man somehow managed to ejaculate just as his life became forfeit, effectively being rewarded for all of those sick and depraved acts carried out in life.

That night, Edith showed the world just how brutal a hunter could be, when pushed beyond the breaking point. A platoon of men were based at the compound where Edith had been held. Once the sun shone on her for the first time in months, there was not a single man left breathing. Those killed in their sleep, were the lucky few. Others had been hung, shot, electrocuted, burned, skinned alive, or disembowelled.

When reinforcements arrived later that week, most chose to drop their weapons and run, while others chose the cowards way out. After all, being charged with desertion was preferable to the chance encounter with an avenging spirit, or as she became known, the Ángel de la muerte.

These atrocities did little satiate her bloodlust. While these men wholeheartedly deserved their fate, there was someone else equally deserving, the one who masterminded the attack that killed her love. That thing, a traitor to the Tower, was a powerful vampire hell bent on destroying all those who opposed her.

It took weeks, but the vampire named Drusilla was found at a place called the Grand. A luxury hotel nestled in the mountains that turned out to be a haven for their kind.

Fortunately, this hotel was a couple of hours away from an army training base. It took little more than charm to get access to their munitions cache, and take what she needed to exact her revenge. Once at the hotel she found her target, lured Drusilla to her room, and set off a series of charges. The fiery inferno she unleashed in that explosion claimed a lot of lives that night.

That’s how Edith ended up at the Pearly gates. She soon learned that her self-sacrifice had earned her a set of wings. While Edith did not see her elevation as a blessing, she nonetheless embraced the opportunity to cross the threshold and be reunited with her first love.

Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!

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