Charlie groaned, taking a seat on the dirty mattress that was used as an impromptu couch. It had been a long day.
The 60 year old vagrant had actually done quite well begging for change today. After making close to $40, Charlie had purchased a cheeseburger, some canned food, and of course of bottles of whiskey. Taking a swig from the bottle, Charlie glanced around the wooded area that served as a homeless camp.
Charlie had found it odd recently, it appeared quite a few of his friends had up and vanished without a trace. The cops obviously weren't going to spend alot of time looking. They were drunks, addicts, bums that couldn't hold down a job. Police wouldn't waste their time, hell if Charlie thought about chances were they had moved on to greener pastures. That was usually how it worked. Still, a few of the missing were surprising.
Margaret had been living on the streets of this town for the better part of the last 15 years. A crack addict who blew through her SSI cash to support her habit. Charlie had gotten to know her over the years. When she wasn't high, she was actually a very sweet lady. However, seeing that both Charlie and Margaret were rarely sober, it usually meant Margaret would simply nod in and out of consciousness when she was at the camp.
Jared though was a different story. The kid was actually from around here, having lived in town his whole life. The 29 year old was a heroin addict that had been kicked out of his house at 18. Jared had been missing for about 5 days now, which was unusual for the kid. At first Charlie thought that maybe the kid had finally O.D. yet that seemed unlikely. Jared had a high tolerance for one and secondly Charlie had noticed some of the usual dealers were M.I.A. as well.
"Fuck em," Charlie grumbled. "Just means more hooch for me." Charlie now took a long swig before tossing a log on the campfire he had burning. Charlie now gazed at the fire, basking in the glow. After years of living on the streets he had grown to like these summer evenings. He didn't need to worry about keeping warm, meaning he didn't have to worry about keeping the fire going. Watching the orange embers crackle reminded him of his childhood, sitting in front of the fireplace, keeping warm during the winter as his mother cooked dinner. Shuddering he took a another swig, it was always dangerous trying to think about happy times.
The sound of twigs snapping now drew the old drunks attention. He had first thought it might be others coming to join him around the fire. The time was getting late, chances were some of the others would be calling it a day, having gotten some last minute change. It could also be some small critter like a skunk or raccoon. It sounded a little larger than that but Charlie didn't mind. Critters rarely came close to the fire.
Charlie paused as a fog began to creep over the camp ground. Charlie had seen enough fog over the years to know this wasn't normal. It was too hot, there wasn't enough moisture in the air. Still the fog now rolled over the camp, billowing over the fire before covering the entire camp.
"Whats with this fog," Charlie grumbled the old man now trying to fan it away, it seemed unusual thick. As quickly as the fog came, it quickly vanished. Charlie raised an eyebrow, taking another swig of whiskey. Grumbling Charlie now dug in his pocket, pulling out a can of beef stew. He was going to eat good before bed. Or so he thought.
Charlie felt two strong hands now thunder down on his shoulders. Wincing from the blow, Charlie tried to turn only to feel two sharp pains in the side of his neck. Charlie now tried to scream, tried to struggle. What was going on? He couldn't move! Whatevwr was attacking had paralyzed him, he tried to struggle, strike whatever was on his neck. His blows though did little to stop it, he was getting light headed, weaker with each passing second. The world now began to go out if focus as Charlie passed out.
Miro continued to drink, draining Charlie dry. The vampire lord always hated drinking vagrants. While the vampire could not catch any illness from their blood, it did leave a nasty after taste in his mouth. Alcoholism, drug abuse, even disease. Each left their own unique taste. For vampires it was like eating takeout that was a few days old. You could live on it but it wasn't very enjoyable.
Miro now dropped the empty carcass of Charlie, wiping the blood from his mouth as two other vampires emerged from the darkness. "Did you find any others?"
"Two more Lord Miro," Selene stated. "They were traveling towards this one." Miro narrowed his eyes as he looked at the female vampire. Selene was the one who had told him of what had happened here. One year ago she had been a lich before wizards had returned her youth and stripped her of her powers. The old witch had escaped, wandered for monthes before finding Miro. Selene wanted revenge and a chance to regain her former status as a lich. Miro would let her but first needed to strengthen her frail form. Now, Selene was a vampire. Deslite her elderly appearance she now possessed the powers of a vampire.
"And what of my...gentle son," Miro growled as he now turned to Donovan.
"No Lord Miro," Donovan said quietly. "It appears he hasn't been here."
Miro snarled, angrily kicking Charlies corpse. Duke had been nothing but trouble since the day if his birth. The vampire lord had such high hopes for the damphir. He wanted a strong, ferocious, heir to move into a position of leadership. Someone to bring prestige to the Tepes name.
Instead he had gotten Duke, the gentle vampire. He had trained the boy in warfare, tried to instill the same brutality he had into him. Instead Duke was a pacifist, a pacifist who would flee from his dungeon to live among the the discarded parts of humanity. Far to often Miro had discovered Duke living in these vagrant camps, eating trash and caring for humans.
"When this one wakes send him to scout for my son," Miro grumbled, kicking the corpse of Charlie. "I have had enough of the street cuisine for one evening."