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It started as these kinds of things usually did, with a break-in. Morgan was just waving off another slightly woozy blood donor when she heard a crash farther into her truck. She rolled her eyes, closed the back doors, and made her way back to the front of the blood donation truck. Why was it always her truck people tried to steal from? What did they even think she had in here?
This had happened often enough that Morgan grabbed her dinted, metal bat. In theory she was a healthcare worker, in practice, she wanted people to stay out of her truck.
“There’s no money or drugs in here!” she called. Usually, once people knew that she knew they were in there, they were quick to run away. Plus, there really wasn’t anything of value in here unless someone was interested in blood, or questionably aged energy drinks. When she didn’t hear the telltale sounds of someone scrambling out, Morgan heaved a deep sigh. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way,” she muttered to herself.
With a deep breath, she hefted her bat and kicked in the door, “Get the fuck out of my truck, asshole!” She swung the bat down on the stranger with their head in her freezer. In the future, Morgan wouldn’t be able to say what was more frightening, the fact her metal bat bent in half, or the way the stranger pulled themself up from the freezer, blood covering their mouth and shirt, and glared at her with unnatural, yellow eyes.
“Shit.”
The stranger lunged, teeth bared, and bloody mouth full of sharp teeth. Morgan pulled her bat up just in time to block the attack. The relief didn’t last long as her attacker snapped the bat in half with a loud crunch. Out of options, and fuelled by instinct, she punched the monster straight in the face, and across the tiny space.
“Fuck!” Morgan clenched her hand, sure it was broken. This is why she preferred sticking to weapons if she could help it.
“You hit me!” the stranger sat up, gingerly touching their face where their own blood now added to the mix of donor blood on their face.
“Of course I did, asshole!” Morgan yelled back. Okay, maybe she should be planning an escape, or a way of getting this person out of her truck, but honestly it would be out of character if she didn’t sass the person who just tried to rob and kill her.
“It hurt!” The stranger sounded mixed between offended and impressed, before they squinted at her. “You are not human.”
“Got it in one,” Morgan snarked back, flapping her hand out, hoping that stretching it out would help the bones heal back in place properly. “So, as a fellow vampire I’ll be nice and ask, are you incredibly new to this, or incredibly stupid to be so starving that you’d go after my blood supply?” She shuffled over to the fridge, and fished out the broken blood bags. Several of them were slashed open and half empty. It felt like such a waste, and she would have words with this person later about drinking one bag before you open a new one. For now though, she tossed one over to her stranger on the floor, and popped a straw into her own. Might as well enjoy them if they were only going to go bad otherwise.
The stranger was still squinting at her, but took the bag before the rest of it could spill onto the floor. They took a long pull of it before answering, “I am incredibly old actually. If I was not starving, I doubt your hit would have done anything at all.”
“Ah, so you’re very stupid then.” Morgan nodded in understanding. Too bad. Babies she could begrudgingly deal with – show them the ropes and show them the door. There was no cure for stupid.
“I resent that. I am very old, and very powerful. You should be begging me for forgiveness.” They looked more like something the cat dragged in than an ancient, powerful vampire, but who was Morgan to judge? She was usually the oldest person in any room she entered, and she looked no older than thirty. Not to mention that the only reason she didn’t look particularly grungy herself is that yesterday happened to be shower day.
“I’ll consider it when you can pick yourself off the ground,” Morgan shrugged, passing them a new bag when they drained their first. “If you’re so old, then why would you go without food for so long?”
This time they caught the blood bag in the air and managed to drink without making as much of a mess. “I was chained, staked, and buried. What year is it anyway?”
“2024, and your story might be more believable if you weren’t wearing a tracksuit.” She could just barely make out an Under Armour logo, underneath all the blood and grime. Too bad it wasn’t twenty years ago, she wondered if this weirdo might have worn pants with “Juicy” on the butt.
“My clothes disintegrated something like 400 years ago. I got these off the first person I grabbed.” They held their arms out as if to gesture to their entire appearance. To be fair, the greasy, long dirty hair barely held together by a scrap of fabric did sell the idea that this person came out of the ground without clothes on.
“You’re telling me you drained a guy, and you still had the audacity to go after my truck?!” Of course that’s what Morgan’s brain stuck on.
“That is what you call this strange carriage? Then yes. I drained several people, and then I smelled a frankly absurd amount of blood all in one place. Instincts took over, and voila.” They gestured to their current position, drinking blood on the floor of her truck.
Morgan tossed them another bag. How they could still be hungry was beyond her, but the sooner the stranger could stand, the sooner they could walk out. “Yeah, it’s a blood donor truck. Well, it was…is? Ehh, once upon a time it was an official blood donor truck, but I privatised it, and now all the donations go to me.”
“People donate blood to vampires?” Their eyes lit up and seemed to take in their surroundings with a new awe.
Morgan pointed at them, ready to burst this person’s bubble “People donate blood to human blood banks. Vampires with “ethics” rob the blood banks,” she said using air quotes, “I just decided to cut out the middleman.”
“You are so strange. I am Alex.” They raised their hand to shake, and Morgan noted the dirt under what little stubs remained of this person’s nails. If it was a scam, Morgan could at least appreciate the attention to detail.
She rolled her eyes, but took the offered hand. “Says the person eating headfirst out of a freezer, and stuck on the fl-“ Alex pulled themself up, and right into Morgan’s space. Like this, they loomed, and the height difference brought a smarmy grin to their face. Morgan was torn between her original goal of getting this stranger standing so she could get rid of them, and the new temptation to knock Alex back on their ass.
“How do people of this century court? I would be very interested in getting to know you much better.” Alex kissed the back of her hand like a gentleman from some old-time movie.
Morgan didn’t even think about it - if she had, she might not have used her half-broken hand. She shoved Alex back to the floor and was satisfied by the crunch she heard on impact. “Get out of my truck.” Nothing but stubborn pride kept Morgan from clutching her hand again and spitting out every curse word she knew.
Alex pulled themself up by the freezer, looking half shocked to have been knocked down again so easily. There was something else there, and Morgan had a feeling it was something akin to damaged pride, which might come to bite her in the ass later. Before she could analyse it too hard, Alex grinned, all teeth and blood. “As my lady wishes. I will call upon you another night.”
They were gone before she could even say, “Please don’t.”