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Author's Chapter Notes:

I'm going to try something a little different to what I’ve written in the past, I guess I’m trying something a little new, I hope it works. This was inspired by a song I heard the other day, I seem to have a lot of work that is inspired by songs, but anyway, this particular song is called I Come Home By Catherine Feeny. The song is kinda weird with its lyrics, to me at least, but for some reason I still really like it. I hope you enjoy it.

I own nothing, no copyright infringement intended. Just playing with the toys for awhile.


Cause these walls ain’t thick enough to keep out the sound
Of the ghosts who dance outside my door
They feed upon the ground They stepped on from the heavens
They reach up from the mud Their eyes are empty
They are looking for blood…

                                                                I Come Home by Catherine Feeny

Her fingers dug into the fabric that sheltered her body, she twisted and turned, unable to settle. Her legs stretching out, a light sheen of sweat covering her body, for a moment her eyes fluttered, but did not open.

Cognizant of her surroundings, knowing where she was, did little to pull her to consciousness, a feeling of being trapped somewhere in the ether she did not wake. But she knew.

And still her fingers dug into the material around her, harsh and bitter, she could feel it, the sticky substance, smell the coppery tang of it in the air, her own blood.

What might have made it worse, if she gave it more than a few seconds consideration, was that the smell of it, the thought of that deep red liquid caressing her tongue, it pleased her, it made her hungry.

An almost desperate need for it consumed her, that small part of her that so longed to give in to the temptation, to fall, to never look back.

If only she knew why this was happening to her, what made her so different that he would want her.

Haunted by a man who never dared show his face, she didn’t need to see to know that she was afraid of him, his presence alone terrified her.

Answers would come, she would soon enough learn that, what she wasn’t aware of, was of the fight that would go with it, and it was one that she might not make it out of… alive at least.


Pausing in the doorway, he folded his arms across his chest, studying the others who were gathered around. They were discussing the situation, the one they had earlier that day found themselves in and he didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid.

Afraid that the outcome wouldn’t be what he needed it to be, that this time, it would be different, lives lost, the balance tipping the scales to favor the darkness.

Always, he would do what needed to be done to protect them, but sometimes it was out of his power, no amount of planning and thought could change it, it just was.

But he wouldn’t go down without a fight, that wasn’t who he was.

They needed him to be more than that, so that’s what he would be.

“You gonna weigh in on this any time soon?”

Focusing his attention to the man who stood to his right, he nodded slightly, offering the faintest of smiles. “Yes, there are a few things I’d like to add.”

“Or to point out would be the more accurate answer, right.”

He reached over, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder, but said nothing more.

He stood before the group, his arms again folded across his chest, but for several minutes he just stood there, studying, watching them. He knew what they felt, because he was feeling it as well, and knowing that a decision was more than necessary, he would make it.

“It happened again, we need to make a move here.”

“What are you… wait, we know that it happened again, we were there and that’s part of the problem.”

Glancing up from the computer monitor, he shook his head, revealing that it wasn’t what he meant. “No, I mean it happened again, as in fifteen minutes ago, they just found a body.”

Stepping forward, he leant down, staring at the screen. “You can’t be serious, two in one day, why would they do that?” Turning again he looked at the other man. “Michael, he’s annoying, but he is right, we really need to do something about this.”

Michael still stood there, but his arms dropping to his sides, his expression still calm and collected. It got to him, sure it did, but he needed to be strong, to portray that strength for them.

“So something is what we will do.”

“Oh great, here he goes again. We get it, you’re a hero for the masses, you have a great fabulous plan up your sleeve.” He pushed the chair back, scraping the legs across the tiled floor and stood up. “So lets here it.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, his friend was half right, well in theory at least. There was a plan, it still needed some, fine-tuning to say the least, but it was there, and they would do their best with what they had, and these days, that wasn’t a lot.

“He’s doing it again.” He paused for a moment to look at the man standing beside him. “Lincoln, your brother is doing that weird look thing again, you want to do something about that.”

“Yeah, if only I could do something about it.” He took a few steps forward, standing in front of his brother. “Mikey, we really should get down there, its already been 20 minutes.”

Michael nodded back at his brother. “Gear up, we’re heading out, the rest of you are staying here.”

A crowd had already gathered, there was little that they could do about that now, they had a job to do and they needed to focus on that.

Pushing past several uniformed officers, Michael stepped up to the man who looked the part, the man who was obviously in charge of this investigation.

Reaching into his pocket, he produced his ID. “Special Agent Michael Lafferty.” He held the badge out for the man to see, and once he appeared satisfied that the was the real deal, Michael closed it and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Detective Chris Ames.” He stuck his hand out for Michael to shake, which he did. “Would you believe that this is the second case like this, today.”

“I would believe that.” Michael answered.

The two walked over to the scene of the crime, the coroner was leaning down, pulling the sheet up over the body.

“An estimated time of death?”

The coroner glanced up at the two men. “I would say no later than 40 to 60 minutes ago.”

“Who reported this?” Michael questioned him. Detective Ames turned and pointed to a young man who was standing to the far right with several officers.

“Says his name is LJ Richards.” Ames explained. “He doesn’t have any ID as far as we can tell.”

Michael nodded and studied the young man for a moment. “I’ll need to speak to him.”

“Of course.” Ames replied. He lead the way over to where the young man stood. “”Mr. Richards, this is Special Agent Michael Lafferty, he’s going to need to ask you a few questions.”

The young man glanced up at him and nodded, he appeared terrified at what he had found, the slightest hint of tears staining his cheeks. His hands were shoved into his pockets and when Michael nodded for him to follow him, he did so without hesitation.

Far enough away from the officers now, Michael took a small step closer. “LJ, why didn’t you call this in.”

Removing his hands from his pockets, he looked up at Michael. “I didn’t have time, after I called the police, they arrived a lot sooner than I thought, then everyone started in on the questions and didn’t have time to call either of you.”

He glanced around the scene for a moment.

“Where is Dad anyway?”

Michael drew in a deep breath and turned in the direction of the mouth of the alley, standing there, speaking to a plain clothed officer was Lincoln.

“LJ, did you see anyone leaving, anything suspicious?” Michael wanted to know.

Folding his arms across his chest he shook his head. “Don’t you think that I would have mentioned if I had.”

Michael’s expression didn’t change, LJ knew that look all too well.

“Yeah right, I didn’t see anything. I didn’t do a damn thing.”

“LJ this isn’t your fault.”

Taking a step back, he glanced in the direction of where the body lay. “Yeah it is, isn’t this my job, to help them, stop crap like this from happening.”

“It is, but you also know that it doesn’t always work like that, you can’t save everyone.” He reached into his pocket producing a pair of rubber gloves. “And you should know better than anyone, that if you had actually seen anyone leaving here, not to go after them.”

“Uncle Mike, this is the second one today, he’s here, he’s probably watching right now.”

Michael started walking back towards the scene. “I know for sure that he is. Don’t go anywhere, you wait for us.”

LJ nodded and Michael continued to make his way back to Detective Ames.

The two leant down and Ames pulled the sheet back. The young woman looked barely 20 years old, a deep cut ran the length of her right cheek, blood stained her hair.

“You would think looking at her, the mess would give us some damn forensics to work of.” Ames stated. “Just like the last five cases, no DNA, nothing.”

Michael glanced up at the other man and narrowed his eyes, if only Ames knew the truth, it would have made his life a nightmare, but at least he would have known.

“The man responsible for this. He’s a pro, he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Yeah so I’ve heard, makes me think that he’s trained, a doctor maybe, forensics even.” Ames answered.

Michael reached out, tilting the young woman’s head the to left, he knew what he was looking for, and he knew he would find it. At the base of the neck were two small punctures.

“What the hell?” Ames cried out, almost jumping backwards. “What the hell is that?”

Michael looked up at him. Again if only Ames knew the truth. “The victim from this morning, she too had wounds like this?”

Ames shook his head. “No, not that I’m aware of. What did that?”

“Perhaps you need to read the reports again, I personally examined the body, same wound, same position.” Michael told him.

Ames brought his hand to his mouth, and Michael noticed the look, like the man was going to throw up.

“You think it’s some sort of calling card, telling us that he’s responsible.” He asked.

Michael pulled the sheet back up and stood. “He wants you to know that he did this, but he will never be careless enough to let you know who he is.”

“Who would do that?” Ames questioned. “Stabbing his victims in the throat.”

Michael understood that Ames didn’t know the truth, but there were obvious signs of what caused this, and even the most doubtful minds would start to wonder, but the man appeared clueless.

“Not stabbed Detective Ames.” he responded. “Those marks there, she was bitten.”

Ames’ eyes went wide and Michael wasn’t sure whether he wanted to scream or laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve seen more than enough in my life time to never not be serious when it comes to this.” He took a few steps back. “You need to look at this for what it is Detective, there are no hidden agendas, no mysteries for you to solve, just look at her, look where you’re standing.”

Ames took in what he was saying, taking in the surroundings. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “You’re seriously trying to tell me, that this, this girl was bitten, by a…”

“Vampire.” Michael finished for him.

Ames glanced down at the body again, remembering the blood staining the girl’s hair, but that was it, there was no pool of it forming on the ground, no trace of it on her clothing.

“Wait, this is preposterous there’s no such…” He glanced up to where Michael had stood just moments ago, but he was gone, and glancing over to where the young man who had found the body was standing, there was no one there either.

Gone, just like that, no trace of them, as if they had never been there at all.

Lincoln pushed open the door, held it open for his son and brother to walk through into the warehouse.

“You did what you could son, this isn’t your fault.” Lincoln explained.

“I saw her Dad, I was following her, like I was supposed to, and then she was just gone, found again 20 minutes later lying in that alley.”

Lincoln glanced over at his brother. “You get what we need?”

Michael nodded back at him. “Of course.” He reached into his pocket and produced the victim’s wallet and handed it over to James.

He opened it and produced the woman’s driver’s license. “It isn’t her.”

Michael folded his arms across his chest. “I’m aware of that.”

“And are you aware that its illegal to remove evidence from the scene of a crime.”

Michael’s expression didn’t change. “Yes I’m also aware of that. Just add the picture to the others.”

James stood up and walked over to the far right wall, he stuck the license to the wall and wrote the girl’s name next to it.

“So, anyone seeing a pattern here.” James said, glancing over his shoulder and seeing the non amused expressions of his collegues.

“How many does that make now?” LJ wanted to know.

Michael walked over to the wall. “First case May 1892 in Arkansas, the mysterious death of Sarah Winters.” He took a few steps to his right. “December 1910, Sera Cooper is found murdered just a block from her home in New York. June 1916, Sarah Pryce is found, two puncture wounds to the neck, drained of blood in Wyoming. You want me to keep going. September 2009, Sara Reid and Sarah Jackson found brutally murdered in Chicago.”

“That makes 57.” James added. “117 years and 57 deaths.”

“He’s not done.” Michael pointed out. “We know who he’s looking for and he won’t stop until he finds her.”

“You know what the chances are of us finding her before he does. Finding a young woman named Sara, like trying to find a needle in a haystack.“

“Our chances are just as good as his. He’s been doing this for more than a century and he still hasn’t found who he’s looking for.”

LJ stepped up beside his Uncle. “You know I still don’t get this, he’s 117, maybe even older than that, and he’s looking for a girl named Sara who would be aged between 20 and 30, not 117. It doesn‘t make any sense.”

Michael turned to look at his nephew. “That’s one reason why we need to find her, she might be able to give us those answers. LJ for as long as he’s been doing this, so have we, and we’ll keep going until we know.”

“Great, so do we have the next one yet. The next Sara he might go after?” LJ wanted to know.

James walked back to the computer and picked up the photo he had printed out while they were gone. He handed it to Michael who took the picture and studied it.

“Her name is Sara Tancredi, she’s 29 years old, a Doctor, works at Northwestern Memorial.” James explained. “She’s the most logical next step, she fit’s the profile, for us, for him as well.

Michael held her picture up. He had to admit that she was beautiful, her long auburn hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her coppery eyes seeming to stare right back at him.

“Sara Tancredi.” He said. “I think its time that we met.”