The little red Japanese sports car zoomed around the sweeping curve as Jennifer reached her right hand for the handle above the passenger-side door and her left hand went to the thigh of the screaming auto’s driver. A mixed look of terror and exhilaration spread across her face as the car’s pilot forced the accelerator even closer to the floorboard, increasing their speed around the high bend that overlooked Lake Michigan and separated the car and its passengers from the icy waters forty feet below by just a thin strip of aluminum masquerading as a guard rail.

“Ras, slow down a little!” Jennifer shouted at the driver. “You’re going to get us killed!” Rasmussen Delevan paid his female companion no attention, only matted the pedal and pushed the hot rod’s velocity over ninety miles an hour as the car slipped around the curve and shot down the straightaway. He neither looked at his passenger nor in the rear view or side mirrors, the latter never doing anything for him anyway. Ras cared not what was behind him. He was focused on reaching his destination, even more, by what was going to happen once he and his friend reached the spot for which he was speedily racing.

As the speedometer inched toward an even one hundred, Ras suddenly slowed the crimson rocket and veered quickly to the right, hurtling down the entrance to a dimly-lit roadside park. When the two-seater roadster decelerated to seventy, Ras pulled the lever that activated the emergency brake and the car spun three hundred sixty degrees in the middle of the park’s drive-up. Jennifer’s scream matched the screech of the tires as the car turned another one hundred eighty degrees then came to rest parallel to the sidewalk and curb.

When the car finally halted less than four inches from the raised concrete, Ras finally looked over to his female passenger, her nails embedded into his blue jeans-clad right thigh. “Come take a walk with me,” he said as he stared into her saucer-sized eyes and penetrated her soul. Jennifer was scared beyond anything she had ever known before but felt compelled to submit to her new friend’s will. They had been on two previous dates and Jennifer was starting to feel something for the tall dark-haired man. She had noticed him across the room at a mutual friend’s party and was drawn to his striking chiseled features. When she kissed him as she was leaving that night, a shiver ran up her spine. His lips were cold but soft and she felt as though he was drinking her very aura as their tongues met.

Ras helped Jennifer remove her grip first from his leg then from the overhead handle. He then exited the car and walked around the front to open her door and help her out. Jennifer stood on wobbly legs and felt as though she would fall to the ground when Ras wrapped his strong arm around her slender waist and held her up.

“You OK?” he asked the disheveled blonde as he steadied her on her feet and stared into her blue eyes. “Sorry about the scare in the car, but I’ve always been a fast mover.”

Jennifer, suddenly finding her legs again, stood up straight in his arms and peered into his black eyes. “How fast?” she said then pressed her lips to his. The couple kissed under the lone streetlight as the crickets chirped in the woods behind them.

“Come on,” Ras said as he broke the lip lock and tugged at Jennifer’s arm. “Let’s go take a walk in the woods.”

“I heard there were some bear sightings out this way,” Jennifer protested, looking around the secluded area. “Do you think there are any wild animals in these woods?” she asked as a shudder overcame her body in the night air.

“Just me…” Ras exclaimed softly as he peered once again deep into her eyes. “We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

The two walked past the brick and concrete welcome center then traipsed through the thick forest area until they came to a small nearly-perfect circular clearing in the middle of the woods. Ras released Jennifer’s hand then began to unbutton his white Oxford shirt. Jennifer, nearly under his spell, began to do the same with her thin black and white polka dot blouse. Her shirt thrown to the ground; Jennifer’s pale white breasts shone in the moonlight as she removed her bra. She came to him, topless and unashamed, but questioning their surroundings.

“I wonder what could have made this spot so open like this out here?” she pondered out loud. As her head turned back to her new lover, she saw him, also shirtless. His upper body a textbook example of the male form, save for a small two inch scar just below his left pectoral muscle. Jennifer’s eyes gazed upon his nude form and she felt her herself becoming wet down below. She wanted him, and she didn’t care where they were or who was watching. She would have him take her in the middle of downtown Gravel City if he wanted. She was his and she would deny him nothing.

“I made it like this…” Ras said, barely above a whisper. Jennifer heard him speak but paid no attention. She wanted this man and no other thought would cross her mind until it happened. She slid her bare torso up to his and once more pressed her lips to his as she wrapped her arms around his manly physique. His skin, equally as cold as his lips, felt smooth against hers. Jennifer ran her hands across Ras’s chest, running her index finger along the scar under his left nipple.

“What happened here?” Jennifer asked as she touched the discolored line then slipped her hands further down his middle and felt his hard abs.

“That’s where the stake was driven into me,” Ras replied, his eyes beginning to change color from the black of night to a flaming red-orange. “It just missed my heart. Half an inch higher and you wouldn’t have anything to worry about tonight,” he exclaimed in a lower timbre as his canine teeth began to extend.

“Worry about what, Ras?” Jennifer puzzled as her lover tilted her head back and exposed her pretty neck. He kissed the skin covering her carotid and ran his tongue up and down the length of her neck. He hissed slightly before he plunged his sharp teeth deep into her flesh. Jennifer had no time to scream as her lover’s fangs bored into her large artery and her blood filled his mouth. Ras drank of her life-sustaining fluids as Jennifer’s mouth hung open in a silent scream and her eyes widened once again then went dim as her serum flowed out of her.

As the last drops of blood drained from her, Jennifer’s last sight was Rasmussen Delevan, shirtless and covered from chin to navel in her crimson fluid, his elongated fangs protruding from his mouth and his eyes burning with the color of fire. Her world went black as her cold body fell to the ground. Ras took a deep breath after the gorge then calmly picked up his shirt and wiped the excess blood from his body. He had other shirts in the trunk of his car. He would put another one on after placing Jennifer’s lifeless body in the back of the sports car to take away for disposal before the threat of daybreak in a few short hours.

++++++++++

July 3, 1863

My Dearest Anna,

I haven’t much time to write this letter. We are on the battlefield but the fighting has temporarily ceased due to darkness as I put pencil to paper. To-morrow, we may well all perish at the hands of the enemy. If that is to be, then I would have no regrets in my short live save for one: That I was unable to look upon your sweet face before the shroud of Death covers me forever.

I have personally witnessed not less than forty of my fellow Michiganians fall in yesterday’s fighting and at least twenty more today. I pray that their families find comfort in knowing that they died defending their country and to stop the scourge that is slavery.

General Custer has been the Golden Angel we had hoped. Atop his steed, he is as close to God as a man has ever seen and leads his charges with a voice only given from Above. Calling the 7^th Michigan “His Wolverines”, we follow him blindly into the fray. O Anna, if I truly am to fall on this field then let it be swiftly, but also let it be under the follow of that great Man! 7^th Michigan, The Union, and Lincoln are blessed to have his service.

Anna, my time draws short as the sun is beginning its rise. We march for a place called Cress Ridge in mere hours. Soon the battle will rage again and I will most certainly be seeing Death’s dark shadow fall across this expanse once more, perhaps engulfing me with it. How I long to be in your arms instead of churning through the mud and rocks in this damnable field. Never forget that I love you and should I fall in the morrow, your name shall be on my last breath…

Your Ever-Loving,

Rasmussen

++++++++++

Rasmussen Delevan had volunteered to serve in the Union Army when the news of South Carolina’s secession hit the far reaches of his home in Michigan. Gravel City had been established and incorporated a mere thirty years before the war began, and just six years before Michigan was granted statehood. After settling his affairs at home, the twenty-year-old made the journey to Grand Rapids where he joined the 7th Michigan Regiment in October 1862. 7^th Michigan was called into service and saw their first action of the war at Gettysburg that next July.

Rasmussen was not the 7^th‘s first casualty of the day on July 3, 1863. As the battle raged, he saw more men around him fall as the Rebs continued their assault into the afternoon. At 4:27pm, a ball from a Confederate musket found the back of Ras’s head behind his right ear. Not instantly killed, he fell to the ground as the fighting continued around him. Taken for dead, neither the Union corpsman nor the invading Confederate soldiers bothered to give Ras a second look. The afternoon turned to evening and, while the battle finally subsided, the dead were left to collect the night’s dew on the blood-stained grass.

Ras lay staring up at the Pennsylvania night sky. His breathing had shallowed but his mind still raced with thoughts. Thoughts of his home, his parents, of his beloved Anna. He began to hallucinate from blood loss to his damaged brain and saw his love come to him. But she was different. Anna was dressed in black flowing robes, jagged and torn at the edges, and she seemed to float through the air. When she got closer, Ras could see that it wasn’t Anna, but a specter-looking woman, pale as the clouds drifting in the night sky above him.

“Spirit,” Ras spoke, barely above a whisper, “take me now. Relieve my pain and let me ascend to Heaven to join my fallen brethren…” Ras didn’t expect the ghostly figure to reply and was nearly amazed when she did.

“I can relieve your suffering, mortal,” she responded in a low voice, “but you will not reach the Hereafter tonight, or ever.”

Ras’s eyes widened as he saw the spectral female’s eyes change color from black as onyx to that of flame and her eyeteeth elongate to twice their length.

“You will suffer more, man,” she spoke as her face neared his fatal wound, “but you will live to tell the tale to those ten generations from now…” The unnatural woman removed Ras’s soldier cap and grabbed his head by his thick dark hair and turned his neck, exposing the gunshot wound. Rasmussen did not scream as the beast sunk her fangs into his flesh and suckled at his dwindling supply of blood. His eyes rolled back in his head and he felt his extremities grow numb then feel as heavy as logs, but his pain and anguish lessened. Ras no longer felt as if he would die on that battlefield so far away from his home. Moreover, he felt as if there was no way he could die, ever.

“Rise, Creature,” the monster spoke as she released Ras from her bite. “You need not fear me any longer, for we are of the same now. Go now, and fear no mortal ever again…” Her voice trailed off into the night as she quickly vanished into the collecting mist. Ras reached behind his right ear and, expecting to find punctures next to the gaping gunshot wound, felt only smooth skin and short hair, the same as before he caught the bullet near his brain stem. The numbness in his arms and legs had receded and he felt… good. Better than he had ever felt in his life. He felt strong, like he could end the dreaded war himself in one felled swoop.

But Ras also felt different, like the troubles of mankind no longer meant anything to him. He may very well had been able to end the war, but he no longer cared if the Union re-formed or if slavery was abolished. He wanted to go home.

++++++++++

Four days later, Rasmussen Delevan walked down the dirt road where his parents’ home sat. He had deserted the Union army and left the field of battle. He couldn’t quite remember the journey home, only that it was mostly dark when he did travel and, although he assumed he had walked the distance from Pennsylvania to Michigan, his Army-issue boots were no worse for the wear. Ras had also shed his blue uniform and wore a simple grey button-up shirt and black pants. He was unsure of where the clothes had come from but, although he was raised to believe that stealing was a sin against God, it didn’t bother him that he might have taken the new clothes without payment.

Ras also realized he was hungry. He couldn’t recall eating anything for days and thought that he should be famished. As he neared his childhood home, he could hear the breathing of his sleeping parents. Ras’s head began to buzz with fury and he felt an uncontrollable heat wash over him. In his nostrils, Ras could smell the blood of his relatives coursing through their veins and his hunger intensified to the point of uncontrollable. He ripped the door from the hinges and tore through the two-room house. As he entered his parents’ bedroom, Ras saw his father standing just inside the doorway, his shotgun raised at his son’s chest.

“Ras?” his father questioned. “Rasmussen, is that you?”

Ras did not reply to his father’s query verbally, but with rage. He grabbed the long gun from his father’s hands and threw it across the home where it landed in the smoldering fireplace. He then took his father by his nightshirt and flung him through the bedroom window, the glass smashing and slicing through his father’s skin, digging deep into his vital arteries.

Ras turned his attention to his mother, cowering in the corner of the room, pleading with her only son to stop his tirade. Ras heard none of his mother’s pleas as he leapt across the room and lifted the woman who bore him life into the air with one hand around her throat. His canine teeth extended to twice their length and he lunged his maw at his mother’s throat. Ras slashed at her neck with his bite, making her gore flow freely. Ras greedily drank of his mother’s life fluids as her body went cold.

When he finished, he tossed the older woman’s body to the floor as if she had been nothing to him then walked out of the house and into the night air. His father’s lifeless body lay on the cold ground next to the broken glass of the shattered windowpane. Ras also gave no thought to his dead father as he turned away from his family home. Temporarily sated, Rasmussen Delevan walked up the road that led to the town of Gravel City. There, on the outskirts, he would find the home of his beloved, his Anna, and he would make her as he was, forever immortal, forever young.

++++++++++

Present Day

After he disposed of Jennifer’s body and changed his shirt, Ras drove back to his penthouse apartment. Rasmussen Delevan was a wealthy individual. He had, after all, been saving his money for over one hundred fifty years. The Great Depression had nearly wiped him out in the first third of the Twentieth Century, but he had bounced back and gambled on technology stocks that paid him handsomely. Ras worried neither about finances nor the thought of old age and death.

As he drove, Ras heard his cell phone beep at him from the passenger seat where his young victim had sat less than ninety minutes before. He sometimes marveled at the advances of the humans. He had been “alive” when the first telephones came into existence. He watched as wires were strung across great expanses so that people could communicate with each other. Now, nearly every human in America from age eight to ninety-five had a mini-computer, with knowledge virtually at their fingertips, that fit in the palms of their hand.

Ras also marveled at what the smartphone did for non-humans. The beep and flashing light from the device were an alarm letting him know that it was exactly one hour until sunrise. Plenty of time for him to get back to his secluded penthouse and shield himself from the sun’s rays. After all, he was only immortal out of the sunlight. The dime-sized scar on his right shoulder constantly reminded him of his vulnerability.

As he entered the darkened luxury apartment, Ras caught a familiar scent in his nostrils and frowned slightly. He walked into the living room area and spoke to the shadowy figure sitting in his favorite leather armchair.

“Artemis, what are you doing here?” Ras said to the man dressed in black on the other side of the room. “You know the sun is about to rise…” he checked the timer on his smartphone, “…

In thirty-seven minutes.”

“More than enough time to chat with y’all,” Artemis replied in his thick Southern accent. The word more came out as mowah. “Where’s (Whayar’s) that pretty little thing you were seeing, my boy?”

“I’m not your boy, Artemis,” Ras replied curtly, “and you know very well what happened with Jennifer. The same thing that happened with Amy, and Erin, and Darian, and…”

“And Anna?” Artemis interjected. Ras flinched at the mention of his first love’s name. Artemis rose from the chair and moved closer to his friend/adversary. “You know, Ras, if you’d just… broaden your horizons a little then you just might find a lover that you didn’t want to feast upon. Women are so… fragile sometimes…” Artemis moved to brush his hand across the black hair on Ras’s temple but was stopped by a quick grab from his hand.

“I told you before, Rebel,” Ras spoke as he gripped the southerner’s wrist tightly, “that will never happen. Don’t make me tear you in half.”

Artemis laughed as he removed himself from Ras’s grip. “Come now, Ras. You act like you were the only one fighting on that battlefield so long ago. She saved me too, remember?” A look of seriousness washed over Artemis’ face as he continued. “Tearing me in half might not be as easy as you think, Yankee.” He regained his foppish demeanor then moved even closer to Ras to whisper in his ear, “But it might be fun seeing who can get the best of who…”

“Get out.” Ras said forcefully, trying not to lose his temper and alert his downstairs neighbors. He always tried to stay under the radar wherever he went but he especially did not want to raise suspicion of anything where he lived.

Artemis backed away from Ras and went for the door then stopped. “By the way, Ras,” the dandy said smiling as he opened the apartment door, “the reason I dropped by was to tell you that Solomon and Elizabeth are back in town and asking to see you. They’re having a soiree tomorrow night and you are cordially invited. You know where. Sleep well, my dear friend.” With that Artemis left Ras alone in his pitch-black home with his thoughts. Ras was afraid of no being, living or undead, but he always felt a lurch in his stomach when the names Solomon and Elizabeth were uttered. The alarm went off on his cellphone once more. Fifteen minutes before sunrise.