Sanguinary Secrets - Book One: Voices & Volition (updated 2/28/19; 11:26pm)

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Antimatter42

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Sep 2, 2017
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Plot: This is the story of Fedosya, a character I created on Super Deepthroat who I decided to expand upon in this novel. She is a fierce, determined vampire willing to do anything for her country - or so she believes. Set in a retro-futuristic world in the year, 1983, emerge yourself in this sci-fi/fantasy/spy novel as you read further and further along about Fedosya's ever-changing loyalty to her country as a spy, and her increasingly passionate heart. Complete with action, adventure, plot twists, and many sexual scenes. I don't know how long this will be, but I hope you will all enjoy the ride as much as I will.
-Antimatter42

P.S.: Since I can't seem to get the paragraphs to be indented, they are going to be separated by font color. Additionally, there is no specific soundtrack to complement this story, but I would highly recommend a good synthwave playlist combined with the type of music from the film, "Fight Club."

Update: I edited the story to where the font is now back to its default color on this site, since the paragraphs now have spaces between each other.

“Noooooo!” Please, don’t do this!” It is dark outside, 3:00 in the morning to be exact, and four KGB agents are trying to break open the bedroom door of Fedosya Patrikov, daughter of Natalya Patrikov, the woman who was shouting and begging. Both are vampires who have been living in relative peace until now with the arrival of the KGB agents. “She’s only an infant. How could she be dangerous? How could we be dangerous? I’ve lived for well over a century, and I’ve never fed on a human. Only animals. Please, let’s talk. I’ll do anything, just don’t do this,” said Natalya. “This is on orders from the General Secretary of the Mother Land. You have no word on this,” coldly said one agent, impossible to describe what with the cold, dark winter night. Once the agents finally broke through Fedosya’s door, they took her away and shot Natalya in the heart with a copper-silver alloy bullet. And then off they went in a black car, never to be seen again. Natalya, meanwhile, was left on her living room floor, slowly dying, heavily crying, and exorbitantly bleeding, knowing she will never see her daughter again.

It is February, 1960 in this scene. Fedosya, was only born a month prior – January, 1960 that is. The Soviet government had recently made an announcement that all vampires would be purged from the Union in response to an assassination attempt on Nikita Khrushchev by a Romanian nationalist, who just so happened to be a vampire. The people, as well as the government, were outraged that such a thing could happen, and they began to fear that there was a secret terrorist plot by vampires to overthrow the world’s governments and indiscriminately feed on all humans without opposition. It mattered not whether some of these vampires fed exclusively on animals or not. All that mattered was that the country was free from the threat. Or so the people thought.

Secretly, the government, interested in how the Romanian nationalist evaded Khrushchev’s top-level security, decided it would be best to see if it could harness these abilities and create an intelligence agency more efficient than the KGB, exclusively made up of vampires. The parents would be killed, and the children of these vampire parents would be taken away for experimentation and advanced intelligence and covert operations training. The government would be able to have the most powerful intelligence agency in the world, able to steal any secrets it wanted from any country without anyone ever knowing. Ironically, it was a vampire working for the KGB who proposed this. He hadn’t thought much about the evasive abilities of vampires until the announcement was made, since not much was known about these abilities. Vampires were merely seen as another race of man altogether, and most of them rarely used these abilities out of fear of persecution. Nonetheless, Fedosya, along with tens of thousands of other children, were taken away while tens of thousands of adult vampires were executed, and thus came the end of all public appearances of vampires from the USSR. All of this ending over the course of a single cold, dark, winter in February.

There is blood covering the window, floor, and walls of a hotel room on the second-to-top floor. On the rooftop of a building across the street is Fedosya, looking down the scope of her rifle with gun smoke flowing out the end of the barrel from having just assassinated an American spy who was able to evade Soviet police forces, though unfortunately not Fedosya. “Target eliminated, mission complete,” she mutters to herself. The moon is shining on her long, jet black hair, pale white skin, and long, elf-shaped ears – an essentially identical resemblance to her mother, with the exception of having blood-red irises while her mother had nightshade-purple ones. Her body looks thin and weak, having very little muscle, if any. Yet, this is all a deception to mask her true strength and physical skill. All of these details are juxtaposed and complemented by black latex clothing and a hood for her to camouflage herself. As always, she wears her signature blood drop earring on her right ear. She licks her lips as her fangs begin to extend in hunger, and at first, she considers teleporting to the hotel room to feed on the spilled blood, but then she decides against it, as her saliva would leave behind only more evidence. That, and guards began to pour into the room. Fedosya then proceeds to pack up her equipment and contact her partner for extraction. She could teleport back to Russia or her agency's headquarters, but in this universe, teleportation is much like running. Teleport a far enough distance and the heart will suffer to lethal levels. Her helicopter then arrives five minutes later. It is black, with the name “Noir Electronics” in bold white lettering. Noir Electronics is the front for the U.S. headquarters of S.V.I.N.S., or Soviet Vampire Intelligence Network Service – the secret intelligence service that Fedosya works for, and the one mentioned earlier that is comprised entirely of vampires. Unfortunately, many of the children who were kidnapped in the vampire purges in the Soviet Union twenty-three years ago either died from the experiments or during training. Only about a little over a thousand remained of the tens of thousands who were kidnapped. Thus, the KGB was tasked with overseeing and regulating all operations conducted by SVINS.

On the other hand, Noir Electronics is a consumer tech, private security and investigation conglomerate that employs millions of people internationally, and even provides their technology and private detectives to the U.S. government, effectively becoming a close partner to all U.S. intelligence agencies. Though of course, this technology always contains hidden cameras or recording devices inside, while the Soviet government continues to use their vampire spies for greater access to intelligence. After all, it is the vampires who install these devices, and it is the vampires who can be controlled well enough so to ensure their intelligence is reliable virtually a hundred percent of the time. The helicopter lands, picks up Fedosya, and flies off into the distance. “I saw your shot out there, Fedosya. It was a good kill as always; right on the forehead,” said Viktor Shovsky, the sort of childishly playful and young colleague of Fedosya’s in his twenties, with dark red hair and a thin body. He was also ever so slightly shorter and younger than Fedosya by one or two inches and a month, and serves as her partner within the city district. “It’s second nature to me, Viktor. Just another day on the job,” said Fedosya in cold indifference. “It’s scary how you could shrug that off like that. But, I digress,” said Viktor. The rest of the trip back to headquarters was traveled in silence. Once the helicopter arrived at its destination, the two of them then exited it.

When they entered their headquarters, it was empty and dark – well after closing time as a matter of fact. Fedosya and Viktor then walked into the main office of the manager of the headquarters. The building itself had a modern design to it, characteristic of many other buildings of large corporations, what with it's combination of glass and steel making up the whole structure. In the office, a sleek wooden desk was in the center, there were three potted plants in three corners of the office, a shelf positioned on the wall behind the desk, as well as a large window covering a good third of the wall behind the desk, overlooking the dark city skyline lit by moonlight, neon signs, and car lights. Sitting in his office chair is a man only known as “Fredrik,” a gruff, frail man in his early fifties with ash-colored hair and a simple dark grey suit with an unbuttoned shirt who is the manager of the headquarters, and overseer of all operations within this county. “Mission complete?” He asks. “Mission complete,” say Fedosya and Viktor simultaneously. Fredrik then says, “Good. Now that your mission is done, I think you are good to go for a brief resting period. Nathan was a difficult target to track down anyway (i.e., the name of the man who was assassinated earlier). You have three days of rest, and then you return for further briefing on your next mission. Enjoy your rest while it lasts. Any questions?” “Yeah, how much longer are we going to be talking? I’m exhausted,” says Viktor, cockily while he yawns. “When you learn to be patient and follow orders,” says Fredrik in bitterness. “Any questions from you Fedosya?” “No,” she replies. “Good. We shall see each other again in seventy-two hours. Good night.” Everyone then leaves the office, goes to the parking lot and enters their respective vehicles, while Viktor gets into his car with his chauffeur.

As Fedosya gets into her red sports motorcycle and rides home, she thinks about her assassination of Nathan. Should I feel disgusted from my indifference? she thinks to herself again. No, this is for my country and my people. They are the happiest they have ever been in years. I will not let capitalist influence take that away. Reminded of her loyalty and responsibility to her people, and her superiors, she then rides the rest of her way home without any further thought. She finally arrives home after twenty-five minutes on her motorcycle, exhausted from the day's work. Her house is modestly small with a garage, a well-maintained front yard, and a front door with no porch. It is located in an averagely sized suburb populated with people who tend to keep to themselves, save for the occasional bit of gossip and small oven fire from overcooked cakes and turkeys. Fedosya then takes out her keys and enters her home. Of course, just like the neighborhood outside, the interior is also modest, enough for two people at most; there is a dining area to the right of the entrance, and then to the farther right a kitchen. To the left there is nothing more than a medium-sized loveseat with a painting above it, a bookcase to the right of the loveseat, a coffee table in front of it with a single coffee table book of various black-and-white photographs, and a small television set to the left of the loveseat. Then in front of Fedosya is a short hallway leading to her bedroom at the end of it, with the bedroom itself having a desk for her to work at, a small bed with a nightstand and a single lamp on top of it, and the only bathroom in the house. To summarize the house in five words – it was functionality over style.

On the aforementioned loveseat to the left of the entrance is Fedosya’s black cat named Noch, who lazily greets her with a meow. “Hello Noch,” she says sweetly and ironically. Fedosya then proceeds to hide her weapons and equipment in a compartment hidden in the aforementioned painting and walk to her bedroom and prepare for bed, taking off her clothes and beginning to shower in her bathroom. After she does all this, she gets into her pajamas and goes to bed. Noch then proceeds to jump into the bed and cuddle up against Fedosya. “Good night, Noch,” she says. An eerie silence passed over the night in the neighborhood. No creatures stirred, not even a mouse. All was quiet.

“Ahh! Stop, please, I’ll do anything. Just stop!!” A fifteen-year-old Fedosya is quivering and crying in great pain as she is strapped to a table in the center of a laboratory, and scientists are experimenting with her reactions to various things, namely sunlight and holy water. A stench of cleaning chemicals and hand sanitizer plagues the air around her and the painfully yet pristinely bright white laboratory, with all of the walls, and floor being this color except half the ceiling simply being a closable skylight. Her skin is no longer a pale white – instead it is blistered, pealing, and boiling red with small areas of blood leaking here and there and numerous bumps, as if her skin were bubbling up like boiling milk – she is burning from the midday sunlight. Luckily, Fedosya isn’t completely naked, wearing a bra and a pair of panties. Although, this makes no difference in the level of pain she is suffering. In the background, scientists are taking notes on her reactions to sunlight and quietly mumbling to each other. They are debating as to whether they should continue with the experiments or not. “This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this. This is a little girl we are testing, not a fully consenting adult-” “Shut up and keep the experiments going.” A senior scientist interrupted his much younger counterpart. “We need to keep them going… she’s just a vampire anyway. Even more so, a danger to humanity.” Another scientist then says, “I know how you feel. I can feel her pain as well, but this is the best thing we can do for her… we are giving her a purpose instead of outright executing her. Look, she’s even fed, clothed and sheltered, more than what she really needs. This is all for the greater good.” Once the three scientists reach an agreement, they continue with the experiments. They then close the skylight above Fedosya, take more notes, and then briefly and lightly douse her with holy water, causing even more burns and cries of pain until-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Fedosya’s alarm goes off. She is jolted awake by both her alarm and her nightmare, sweaty and shaken with fear. Then, she realizes that it is all in the past, and that her pain was necessary for her to keep her homeland safe. On mornings like these, however, she asks herself, Was it all necessary? Was it worth it? At what cost? But then she brushes these questions off and focuses on her mission. Nothing more, nothing less. Luckily, it is overcast and cool outside. No sunlight. Fedosya then gets out of bed and prepares for the day. It has been three days since her last assignment, and those three days were nonetheless relaxing, yet uneventful. She brushes her teeth and then showers. After showering, she applies a special sunscreen lotion for her skin and takes a pill with a glass of water. Both the lotion and the pill must be taken every morning in her windowless bathroom for her to endure the bright sunlight for the full day, or twenty-four hours. If she takes only one of them, she only gets sunlight protection for half the day, or twelve hours. She then proceeds to have her breakfast– a single eight-ounce glass of human blood, which she consumes twice a day, since vampires are in no need to eat thrice a day like regular humans. In addition, she receives weekly glass containers with a hundred and twelve ounces of blood inside them, enough to last a week. She is able to eat regular food, although when eating regular food, she has to eat twice the calories a normal human consumes within a single meal. For example, if a normal human must consume four-hundred calories for breakfast, she must consume eight-hundred calories in order to equal the same four-hundred in her twice-a-day glass of blood. If she were to go vegetarian, these numbers would only pile up even more.

Moreover, if she skips her twice-a-day glass of blood, this increases her chances of developing Vladimir’s Syndrome (named after the infamous Vlad the Impaler), which is a condition in which a vampire starts to become more and more animalistic, the fangs begin to quickly extend in length, the individual starts looking increasingly corpse-like with wrinkling skin, until finally succumbing to death. Conversely, if a vampire consumes too much blood, their abilities will start to fluctuate and become less and less controllable, which leads to random teleporting, speed-walking, and activation of invisibility, plus increased auditory and visual sensitivity, unbearable headaches, and then finally, death from organ failure.

After downing her glass of blood in a single chug, Fedosya then feeds Noch her cat food, gets dressed for work in her black motorcycle jacket and boots, fingerless gloves, black pants and a white dress shirt, then gets into her motorcycle and heads to work. As stated before, the building of Noir Electronics is of a modern design what with various glass windows covering all sides of it and such. Fedosya enters the building and signs in with the secretary, Sasha, an American, at the bottom floor. She’s dressed in a grey office blazer, grey slacks, black high heels, and a white blouse, perfectly complementing her hair, tied into a bun, and ocean-blue eyes. “Good morning, Agent Patrikov. Another day, another dollar, huh?” says Sasha. “Ha ha! more like ‘another bullet, another life,’” says Fedosya. Both of them laugh at this darkly humorous response and wish each other a good day. As you can see, Fedosya and Sasha are particularly close friends, living not far apart from each other. Furthermore, Sasha was the first American that Fedosya met, and ever since, the two have had a sort of sisterly fondness for each other’s presence. Fedosya then gets into the elevator and pushes the button for the top floor, and then enters a secret conference room concealed by an automatic sliding door disguised a part of the wall. The conference room is dark, lit only by a dull projector screen with all of the assignments on it. Meanwhile, Fedosya’s twelve colleagues are seated at the conference table, which consists of Viktor, ten other agents, and Fredrik.

Sitting at one end of the table is Viktor wearing an intensely focused facial expression – a sharp contrast to how he was three days ago. At the other end, Fredrik is organizing some papers while looking weary as always. As for the other ten agents sitting at the sides of the table, there was Nikolai Ivanov, the twin brothers Alexei and Anatoly Skorsinsky, Vasyli Volkov, Boris Chekov, Misha Lebedev, Elena Aristov, Vitaliy Mikhailovich, Sergey Bobkov, and Alexander Abramovich (A.N.: I am unsure here as to whether describe all ten agents or not). All twelve agents were divided into pairs (six pairs), and each pair was in charge of one district of the overall county.

“Good morning everyone,” says Fredrik. “I hope you all had a good rest. As always, the assignment today will be more difficult to complete than the last. As the saying goes, ‘the only easy day was yesterday.’ What we are doing today, and possibly over the course of only a week in the best-case scenario, is investigating a sabotage incident that happened two days ago. We believe that this is the work of some criminal syndicate or rival agency, but we won’t know that until the mission is complete. We suspect that the mastermind behind these sabotages is the man shown here, John Smith.” On the projector screen, it showed a man around his thirties, with brown hair fair skin, and green eyes; a relatively inconspicuous man. “Find this man for interrogation, and if you must, do not hesitate take him out. Understood?” “Understood,” said all the agents simultaneously. “Good. Now that all that is out of the way, let the hunt begin. Good luck.” Fedosya and the agents then got out of the conference table. “Fedosya, wait!” said Viktor. “What is it Viktor?” “Take this, for good luck.” Viktor hands Fedosya a black and gold ball-point pen. “It’s just a pen.” “Trust me, you’ll need it. Take off the top part of the pen to reveal a trigger for you to fire the tip. The tip contains a poisonous ink that paralyzes and slowly kills only when injected. Use it only for emergencies.” “I’ll bear that in mind.” Fedosya finally takes the pen and starts walking away until Viktor says, “Oh, and by the way…” “What, Viktor?” says Fedosya. “Be careful.” Fedosya then walks off, bewildered at Viktor’s help. Does he know more about the saboteur than Fredrik? she thinks to herself.

A couple miles away from headquarters and Fedosya’s home there is a loud explosion. A building has just collapsed, there is blood, body parts, ash and rubble scattered all over the place, as well as a few fires here and there. The police and the SWAT team has just arrived to investigate. Standing in the distance is a mysterious figure grinning in triumph.

While first-responders are going to the collapsed building and frantically searching for survivors, Fedosya on the other hand is on her way home. While on the highway, she sees smoke and flames in the distance and dozens and dozens of news helicopters hovering around like horseflies. She is bewildered at the sight before her until she reaches home, turns on her television and changes to the local news channel, where there are reports of a terrorist attack. The building that had just collapsed was the site of the terrorist attack. The anchorwoman, appearing in the typical fashion of a purple shoulder padded jacket and fluffed-up hair, says, “Breaking news: there has been a massive explosion at the Twin Pillars Bank on 51st street. At least twenty-five people were immediately killed in the blast and police are dedicating all of their efforts to bringing the culprit to justice. Ben Howers is live on the scene. Ben, what happened here?” Suddenly, Fedosya’s bedroom telephone rings, which she then answers and says, “Hello?” “Megan (Fedosya’s American identity), it’s me, Scott (Vasyli Volkov’s alias). Meet me in the alleyway on Francois avenue. I think I found our friend. Get here ASAP.” “Understood, Scott. I’m hurrying.” She then opens her living room painting to grab her belt buckle pistol, twin Tokarev handguns, a leather holster, a watch equipped with a communicator to contact any of her fellow agents and a jammer, several magazines, a single grenade, and a knife. After getting all of this to comfortably fit on her, she says goodbye to Noch and hops on her motorcycle.

For ten minutes, she speeds through the streets without arousing question from police. Various gas stations, restaurants, law offices, and other establishments whizz past her, and most of them are found to either be completely empty, or have only two or three people inside. When Fedosya finally reaches the alleyway on Francois Avenue, she finds a small, dilapidated, three-story apartment complex with an equally dilapidated parking lot, and waiting in one parking space is Vasyli in the driver’s seat of his car. He is generally considered by his colleagues to be quite handsome – blond hair, pristinely pale skin, a somewhat muscular build, and peculiarly enough, blue eyes in spite of his vampirism, since generally most vampires’ iris colors range from red, purple, dark grey, black, and fiery orange. He is quite a rarity in vampirekind. “I saw John through the walls in his apartment room on the second floor. Follow me,” said Vasyli. “Wait, how do you know he lives here? Do you have any evidence?” asks Fedosya. “There’s not much time to explain it all, but in short, I was investigating the scene of the explosion earlier and I found this amongst the rubble.” Vasyli produces from his pocket a vial with small samples of black and white powders. “After I found these components, I hacked several banks around the city and found that this purchasing history was attached to this address. Anyway, let’s just get this over with.”

The two spies carefully walked to the apartment, since there may well have been some hidden mines. With their guns in hand, they breached the door, only to find no one inside – or so they thought. They walked in, and lo and behold, they found various bomb-making materials spread out across the kitchen. When Vasyli walked towards the kitchen to take a closer look, Fedosya shouted for him to duck, but it was too late. BANG! BANG! John was hiding around a corner, and he fired his handgun twice, wounding Vasyli at his upper and lower right arm. Fedosya quickly turned and fired her gun as well, but John dodged the bullets quickly and jumped out of his kitchen window with superhuman speed. “After him!” shouted Vasyli. Fedosya then jumped out the window as well and followed suit. The on-foot chase was hectic, what with the labyrinthine nature of the alleyway. When Feodsya fired her gun once again, she was able to hit John in the ankle. However, just as Fedosya was able to reach four feet away from him, he then quickly jumped inside a red convertible and sped way. “Damnit!” she curses to herself in Russian. Meanwhile, Vasyli finally catches up to Fedosya, albeit panting heavily. His arm still bleeds a little, but the overall gunshot wound is more or less healed, since his abilities include faster healing. “It’s alright, we at least have most of the evidence now. We’ll tell the other agents and give some of the evidence to the police while we keep most of it for analysis.”

“Aarghh! Fuck, that hurts!” says John as he floors the pedal of his convertible. While driving, he receives contact from someone with a scrambled voice on his earpiece. “I heard some gunshots, are you fine?” “If being fine means being alive, then yes. Otherwise, some bitch earlier shot my ankle.” “That matters not. You’ll live. I’m sending you some coordinates now. Go to them, and you’ll find a safehouse.” John puts on a pair of sunglasses and sees the coordinates on the lenses, and then quickly drives there.

Concurrently, Vasyli and Fedosya conduct their search of John’s apartment. In addition to bomb-making materials, they find notebooks ranging from progress notes to essays. One thing they found particularly interesting was a strange dark-green one with no title. Fedosya then proceeds to open it and find that it is a diary. She begins reading the first entry to Vasyli:

Entry #1: November 12th, 1982, 11:45pm
Well, here we are. The first entry of my diary. As grim as this sounds, I don’t know how much longer I’ll live. The progress of my projects and experiments has been going well, as have my essays. I hope I can get them published before I die, because, again, I don’t know how much time I have left- oh no, what was that. Never mind, probably just another hallucination I’m having. For the past several days I’ve been experiencing hallucination after hallucination. Even worse, a voice that keeps telling me to “do it.” It’s frightening. Oh, Evelyn, if you’re reading this, I want you know that I love you. I don’t know what happened, but in the near future, some bad things will be happening because of me. I didn’t want to become a monster, but the voice just keeps saying, “do it, do it, do it, do it.” It won’t stop, and I can’t take it anymore! Even more so, some person with a scrambled voice called me a couple days ago, telling me to follow his exact instructions. That’s how I learned to make those devices earlier. It’s as if the voices in my head, and the one on the telephone have become one…shit, they’ve started speaking again. I’d better get back to work now. Good night.


Perplexed at the sloppiness of the writing and the erratic emotion that John seemed to be feeling when writing this, Fedosya skims to the last entry of the diary, which was just written today. It reads:

Entry #18: March 8th, 1983, 9:50am
I did it. I did it. I can’t believe I did it. I set the timer, left the bomb in the building, and it detonated. It sickens me. Scores upon scores of lives disintegrated with the ending of a timer. The cops are at the scene now. I don’t know how long I have until they track me down. Maybe two…three hours at most. Maybe even sooner if Noir gets involved. I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I’m so sorry…so, so sorry…


“He was writing this just before we arrived,” says Vasyli. “This last entry’s really short…not a lot of evidence to go off of here, but the rest should suffice.” Fedosya nods in agreement, and they contact Fredrik to call in a team to analyze the apartment for more clues. “Wait, here’s a bandage. Your arm wound is still bleeding. I’ll put it on.” Fedosya takes a long white bandage out of one of her pockets and wraps it around Vasyli’s arm. “Thanks. I guess the adrenaline from earlier made me forget I was still bleeding and hurt,” replies Vasyli. “It’s nothing. That’s just what colleagues do for each other, huh?” “Yeah. Ahem, anyway, don’t forget to call Fredrik.” “Heh. Will do.”

After several minutes of driving down seemingly endless roads, John finally arrives at the coordinates the scrambled voice gave him. At these coordinates, he finds a relatively isolated cabin in the middle of a forest. Barely any sunlight penetrates the colossally tall trees, which ranged in the dozens. Nonetheless, the cabin itself wasn’t dilapidated – on the contrary, it seemed newly built. The wood was fresh, the foundation was of a thick brick and concrete combination, and the windows were clear. Inside, the cabin had a fireplace, a lavish couch facing it, a small dining area, and a kitchen that could fit two people at most. In the bedroom, John found two beds, a nightstand with a candlestick holder on top, some electrical lighting throughout the entirety of the house, as well as a generator in the basement. Overall, the cabin had just about everything, save for running water. “You’re right on time, John…you’re right on time,” said the voice, this time presenting itself in the form of a man donned in a long, hooded black trench coat and a blood-red handkerchief covering his mouth. His eyes were a notably bright, fiery shade of orange. John says, “So, what now? Noir is probably scouring the whole of my apartment for evidence, and it won’t be long before the media publicizes my identity.” “That’s fine. That’s perfectly fine,” said the disguised voice. “The diary I ordered you to write should throw them off for a bit. Even if you’re caught, you can use the diary as evidence to plead insanity. It’s all going according to plan.” “Look, I don’t know who or what the hell you are! I didn’t want any of this! I’m sick to my stomach! I-I just wanted to live a normal life and finish college, but now I’ve just killed scores of innocent people. Just kill me already!” The voice then pulled out his gun, pistol-whipped John in the face, and then shot him in the shoulder. “You are going to do exactly as I say. You will do things you will never forgive yourself for. But so help me, if you dare resist my commands again, I will personally see to it that your family dies in agony, as will you. Now clean yourself up. There’s still much to do.” John crawls back on his feet and limps towards the bathroom to patch himself up in silence. What have I done? John thinks to himself despairingly.

Back at headquarters, Fredrik sits silently in his office while looking out of his large window at the skyline before him, contemplating the outcome of this investigation and so forth. This is good. We just need to catch John, and that should really raise our reputation here. We’ll have to be careful, though. It would only be too easy for him to frame us for the bombing, and if we fail, it could cost us everything…no I need to think positively about this. I just need to be calm and patient. RING!! RING!! Fredrik’s telephone rings, and he picks it up. “Fredrik, it’s me, Fedosya. We just located John’s apartment. We have everything we need here.” “Excellent, I’m sending a team there right now. I take it you captured John?” asks Fredrik. “No,” replies Fedosya. “Damnit. What happened?” “I was able to shoot him in the knee, but he got away in a red convertible sports car. A Ferrari, I believe.” Fredrik sighs. “Alright. That at least narrows down our search. Tell the other agents to be on the lookout. Tell the authorities if you have to.” “Understood, sir.” Fedosya hangs up on her communiwatch. “Vasyli, what’s the phone number that’s linked to this apartment?”

In a relatively small, dark room cramped with computers, VR headsets, games, and pizza boxes, and lit only by various computer screens, is Misha Lebedev, sitting in front of her desktop playing a role-playing game. She is her team’s computer specialist, and is its youngest member. She has the appearance of a sort of goth/punk type of schoolgirl due to her fondness for gothic lolita fashion, manga and anime, and the nekomimi theme, wearing a black schoolgirl uniform shirt with a purple tie, a purple and black skirt, purple stockings, striped black and purple arm warmers, small black boots, short, purple-dyed hair with a black nekomimi headband in it, and of course, purple irises which are complemented by her purple eyeshadow. “Yes?” says Misha inattentively. “Misha, I need you to see you if you can track this phone number’s exact movement, activity, and location.” “Right now? I’m in the middle of an RPG, and I’m getting to the final boss.” “Save the game or something, Misha. This is urgent, and we have a mission to complete.” “Alright, your highness. I’m doing that right now.” Fedosya tells Misha the phone number, which she then types in and tracks down to a series of coordinates located in a cabin in the middle of a forest. “Thanks for the help. I’m going there right now,” says Fedosya. Outside, three black Noir Corporation vans park outside, and investigation teams begin pouring into the apartment, dressed in hazmat suits and other protective gear. “Oh, and Vasyli, go to a hospital or something. Even if most of your wound is healed, you need rest,” says Fedosya. Vasyli says, “N-No, I have to complete the mission.” “You’re still too hurt,” says Fedosya. She and Vasyli look deeply into each other’s eyes, or rather into each other’s souls, and there is an intimate silence between them. “Look, if it becomes too much trouble for me, I’ll contact Elena or Sergey for backup.” Fedosya pats Vasyli on the shoulder, and then gets on her red motorcycle.

Night begins to fall over Fedosya as she rides her bike down the road. The sun begins sinking below the horizon while the moon rises with a gracefulness like no other. Cars and neon-lined buildings pass by her like buzzing flies as their lights become nothing but a blur. Once she arrives at the cabin and gets inside, firearm raised, she finds nothing. No cars in the parking lot, no lights on in any of the rooms, and not a single flame in the fireplace. However, she finds a strange note on the coffee table that reads surprise, and the following numbers sequence:
15-3-26, 7-22-25-20, 25-10-15-3, 11-13-10-15-26-14-15, 15-10-10, 8-16-24-3, 8-26-15-3-4-9-6-14.
What is this? she wonders to herself, baffled as to what the meaning of the sequence is. She proceeds to take pictures of the note with a tiny camera she has in one of her pockets, and then investigates the cabin further – until she hears a beeping noise in the background. She walks into the basement and sees a gas tank bomb and a timer. She then sprints out of the house and jumps through a front window. The house explodes in a blaze of fire and debris. She also sees the red convertible speed away. She then jumps on her motorcycle again and gives chase. A passenger in the back fires an Uzi submachine gun at her. She dodges the bullets left and right as the road twists around. Fedosya then responds by firing back with her Tokarev pistol. Her bullets hit the windows, cracking them but not shattering them. The car then takes a sharp turn to the right down a very rough slope, but then it rumbles and tumbles down the rough slope until it flips over due to a rock. and hits a tree. With the car chase over, Fedosya investigates the crashed sports car, only to find nobody inside it. “A vampire?” she asks to herself under her breath.

Immediately before crashing into the large tree ahead, The Voice tightly wrapped his arms around John and teleported the two of them to the middle of a busy street. The Voice then let John go and dodged the incoming cars, as did John. Both of them found an alleyway, and ran into there. “‘THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” John says immediately after getting in the alleyway with The Voice. The Voice says, “It was necessary for us to not get caught. Like I said earlier, there’s still much to do. Now follow me.” “No more! I’m done with this shit. All you’ve done is put me in danger and use me! I thought we would be done by now and I would be free and-” “shhh,” says the Voice, as he injects John with a sedative to knock him out for a bit. The Voice proceeds to pick up the knocked-out John and take him to a sewer cover. He then puts John down and removes the cover, then he climbs John down the sewer for a bit before safely dropping him down to the bottom, and then he climbs up and places the sewer cover back above him, all without attracting any attention.

The Voice picks up John again and takes him down a long passageway for several minutes. His eyes glow a fiery orange, indicative of his night vision abilities, as well as his overall vampirism. Finally, he takes a left turn, then he taps a button hidden behind a brick, and a door opens, which leads to another safehouse the Voice prepared that is equipped with a small lab, a bathroom, a small armory filled with guns and blades, a bedroom with a couch, a nightstand, and a lamp, and a single fridge. Overall, the safehouse had the design of a nuclear shelter from the early days of the Cold War. The Voice laid John on the couch and proceeded to craft some more explosives for his next attack. Noir has probably deduced who they’re after now, the Voice thinks to himself. In that case, I’ll give them a treat for their hard work…

Fedosya, still staring at the wreck before her, raises her wrist and contacts Fredrik once more. “Fredrik, our search has just been further narrowed down. It seems a vampire is helping John…or that John is a vampire.” “Excellent, let’s see to it that this information does not get to the police or the general public. If we catch John, this will get us even closer to taking over America from within,” says Fredrik. “Meanwhile, we’ll tell the police and the public of the samples Vasyli found and lead them to someone else.” “Understood, sir,” says Fedosya. I guess I’ll contact Alexei and Anatoly to see if they have any leads, she thinks to herself.

Driving a grey pickup truck down a street busy with people shopping in various stores and such are the twin brothers Alexei and Anatoly Skorsinsky, both aged a year older than Fedosya. They both have blond hair, a somewhat muscular build similar to Vasyli (albeit much bulkier), grey eyes, and taciturn personalities (though Alexei tends to be slightly more vocal than his brother). In addition, they have a utilitarian sense of fashion, wearing black cargo pants, black boots, maroon long-sleeved shirts, and black jackets – a sharp contrast to Vasyli, who tended to wear clothes of a more formal, fashionable appearance comprising of the latest suits. The twin brothers both hear on their earpieces simultaneously, “Alexei, Anatoly, it’s me, Fedosya. I need you to narrow your search to vampire suspects. Either John is a vampire, or he’s being helped by one.” “Roger that, miss. We’re going over to investigate the neighborhood on Matthew Avenue,” says Alexei. The two brothers proceed to drive over there. The neighborhood – one of the many in the United States exclusively inhabited by vampires, is best characterized as surprisingly well-kept, yet lonely, what with most of the houses being of a modest size and structure, most of them looking the same way except differing in color, and the fact that hardly anyone came out at any point in the day (or night for that matter). Generally, there is a de facto segregation of vampires from normal human beings in the United States. Although derogatively referred to as “blood breaths,” They are not harshly treated and abused like other minorities – instead they are alienated due to their oddities and the overall fear that most of them are a danger. Simply put, it is a tense acceptance and integration of vampires into society juxtaposed by a de facto segregation that isolates them from the rest of society. Only the vampire agents of Noir were ever properly integrated into normal human areas of the U.S. because of their admirable work. Alexei finally parks his car in the driveway of one house (a moss green one), and the brothers knock on the door until a male vampire in red robes answers the door. “Excuse me, sir,” says Anatoly. “We are here to investigate the residents of this neighborhood, starting with you, in connection to the incident at the Twin Pillars Bank on 51st street. What we plan to do is search your home for any suspicious materials, so we would like to come in.” “Do you have a search warrant? If you don’t, then I have the right to deny your request because of my fourth amendment rights. You’re going to have to go to some other house if you don’t have a search warrant,” says the robed man. Alexei responds, “Sorry, sir, but we are employed by a private enterprise that is a close partner with the law enforcement authorities. We are in no need of a search warrant, so please let us in before we resort to alternative means to enter. You needn’t worry at all, as you can think of this as proof of your innocence rather than your guilt.” Stubborn in personality, the robed man says, “No. You’re going to have to search some other homes here. Not mine-” Anatoly closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again to stare directly into the robed man’s eyes, which causes him to stop talking, then repeat Anatoly’s words, saying, “Sure, gentlemen. Please come in. Feel free to do whatever’s necessary.” Alexei and Anatoly enter the house and begin their search.

After about three hours of searching the entirety of Matthew Avenue, they find nothing. “Damn, I suppose we’ll have to search another neighborhood,” says Alexei. “I suggest we go further north then, into Frankfurt Street,” says Anatoly. Alexei sighs and rubs his both of his temples. “It’s doubtful we’ll find anyone there…unless-” “Hey! Guys, it’s me, Marcus.” Viktor suddenly interrupted Alexei when he arrived via his teleportation abilities. He asks, “How’s the investigation going? Do you have any leads?” Alexei says, “We don’t have any leads yet, but Megan (Fedosya) narrowed our search by telling us that a vampire may be involved in the attacks.” Viktor says, “I was told that as well. I just searched the other neighborhood a couple blocks away from here on Frankfurt Boulevard. So far, no leads either.” “I suggest we search Willow Street, then. It doesn’t hurt to try,” says Anatoly. “Alright, I’ll see you guys there,” says Viktor, and he teleports away. Meanwhile, The Skorsinsky brothers get into their pickup truck and drive off.

Once all three agents arrive on Willow Street, they find that it’s similar to the neighborhood earlier. “Over there!” shouts Viktor. Attached to a nearby van is a small bomb that flashes a red light for a few seconds before detonating. Fortunately, all three agents were able to dive away, but not without injuries, as Viktor sustains a couple pieces of shrapnel to his back, while Anatoly suffers cuts to his legs. They get up and see the car more or less destroyed, along with a few shattered windows a couple feet from the bomb. “THERE!” shouts Alexei, as he sees a muscle car speed away. Alexei, Anatoly, and Viktor jump into their pickup truck and chase after the muscle car. Out of the muscle car comes broken glass and screws in an attempt to pop Alexei’s pickup truck. Fortunately, the truck’s tires are resistant to sharp objects and bullets. “Get me a little closer!” shouts Anatoly. He leans out of the passenger window and takes a few shots at the muscle car’s tires. The muscle car dodges left and right, dodging each and every bullet. Anatoly reloads and keeps on firing. “You’d better be careful Anatoly. You don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to us,” says Viktor. “I got it, Viktor! Just shut up!” Anatoly replies. The muscle car proceeds to drive straight into a busy street full of traffic. “I’m going for it!” says Alexei. “No! Don’t do it. It’s not worth it!” says Viktor. “I’ve got an idea. Just get me in closer,” says Anatoly, who then gets in the back of the pickup truck. Alexei is then able to get close enough to the muscle car, allowing Anatoly to jump on top of the muscle car. Alexei takes a left turn away from the traffic-filled street, and Anatoly climbs into the passenger window of the muscle car. A fist fight ensues between Anatoly and a young, male vampire in his late twenties with red hair, black irises, a black jacket with jeans and grey sneakers. Anatoly punches this unnamed man, while the man grabs Anatoly’s head and bumps several times against the passenger door, all while having a strong grip on the steering wheel and good control of the pedals. Anatoly proceeds to kick the man in the face, causing him to lose control- BANG! A car T-bones the muscle car. The muscle car spins out of control and into an alleyway, crashing.

Just as it is with many car crash scenes in movies, it is here as well where we see Anatoly, disoriented and dizzy, his hearing dimmed. Luckily, the air bag popped out, which cushioned Anatoly from broken glass. On the other hand, his legs are trapped under the muscle car’s debris. “Anatoly! Brother!” shouts Alexei, who was able to find a shortcut to Anatoly. As for the red-haired vampire who drove the muscle car, he’s dead due to large glass shards piercing his throat, as well as whiplash to his neck. All around the muscle car, there is broken glass, twisted metal, and blood pooling in various places. “I’m fine, Alexei. I’m fine,” says Anatoly with a hoarse and a mouthful of blood. “You’re not,” says Viktor. “You’re trapped in the car and we need to get you out. Alexei, call the ambulance or something.” And so Alexei calls the ambulance. His heart is beating with great anxiety and worry over the uncertainty as to whether his brother would survive or not. Nothing seems well.
Update (4/23/29; 3:13pm):
After doing some thinking, I decided to re-post my story to Fictionpress in order to reach a wider audience. I'll be posting a chapter a day for 9-10 chapters of the book. Afterwards, it'll be on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. However, I'll keep the first five chapters here for you guys to enjoy, but bear in mind that neither these chapters, or the full story on Fictionpress will be the final draft, let alone the title. I hope you all enjoy your day.
-Antimatter42

P.S.: Here's the link to the full, on-going story: Sanguinary Secrets - Book One: Voices & Volition Chapter 1: Prologue: Gone, a thriller fiction | FictionPress
 
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Kargan3033

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Aug 10, 2015
Well this is a nice find, thank you for sharing this with us, I hope you will continue with this fine story.

What was your inspiration for this story?
 

Antimatter42

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Well this is a nice find, thank you for sharing this with us, I hope you will continue with this fine story.

What was your inspiration for this story?
Thanks for your review, Kargan. Lately, I've been experiencing writer's block, so every review counts. The inspiration for this story came from me thinking how the Morrigan hair in SDT kind of looks like a hair you'd see on a sexy Russian spy character. Another thing that came to mind was Misha Cross's voice. Combine these two factors and you've got Fedosya Patrikov. Again, much thanks.
 

Kargan3033

Club Regular
Joined
Aug 10, 2015
Thanks for your review, Kargan. Lately, I've been experiencing writer's block, so every review counts. The inspiration for this story came from me thinking how the Morrigan hair in SDT kind of looks like a hair you'd see on a sexy Russian spy character. Another thing that came to mind was Misha Cross's voice. Combine these two factors and you've got Fedosya Patrikov. Again, much thanks.
That is cool, I know about writer's block I haven't worked on a story for a long time now, I hope you get over it soon because I really would like to see more of this fine story, but I'm not rushing you so don't feel like I'm pressuring you to continue.

I can wait as for the morrigan hair you are talking about the super deep thoart hair mod? and I have no idea of who Misha Cross is, care to tell me about her?
 

Antimatter42

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Sep 2, 2017
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That is cool, I know about writer's block I haven't worked on a story for a long time now, I hope you get over it soon because I really would like to see more of this fine story, but I'm not rushing you so don't feel like I'm pressuring you to continue.

I can wait as for the morrigan hair you are talking about the super deep thoart hair mod? and I have no idea of who Misha Cross is, care to tell me about her?
The hair is not a mod. It's one of the default hairs the game has on the menu. As for Misha Cross, she's a Polish pornstar who's done scenes for Brazzers and other adult film companies. Anyway, I'm going to work on chapter three of this story now. Thanks for your review.
 

Antimatter42

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Update Post: I'm going to try to make as few of these as possible in order to not spam this thread or reveal too much of my story. Anyway, after rereading the first three chapters, I made some edits to the setting/plot of the story. Feel free to reread those chapters. Otherwise, you can read about those edits in the spoiler below:
-Fredrik is the head of the whole county within the unnamed state they're in.
-Viktor is Fedosya's partner.
-There are twelve agents in total, with Fredrik as their handler. Each agent is divded into pairs, and each pair is responsible for their respective district. Thus, there are six pairs and thus, six districts.
-The Noir corporation is a conglomerate that makes consumer and surveillance electronics, and offers private investigative services. It is also a close partner of all U.S. intelligence agencies, and therefore has access to any crime scenes their agents wish to investigate or evidence the police has.
-Fedosya hides her some of her guns and equipment in a painting above her loveseat.
-She always wears a blood drop earring on her right ear. The significance of this jewelry piece will be explained in later chapters.
That's all for now. The next chapters are coming soon.
 
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Kargan3033

Club Regular
Joined
Aug 10, 2015
I read the edits and I have to say I really am looking forward to more of this, you have a solid plot, the action is well paced and your characters are not two diamintonal cut out characters.

But like I said work at your own pace, I can wait.
 

Antimatter42

Content Creator
Joined
Sep 2, 2017
Location
Address Unknown
Update Post: I'm going to try to make as few of these as possible in order to not spam this thread or reveal too much of my story. Anyway, after rereading the first three chapters, I made some edits to the setting/plot of the story. Feel free to reread those chapters. Otherwise, you can read about those edits in the spoiler below:
-Fredrik is the head of the whole county within the unnamed state they're in.
-Viktor is Fedosya's partner.
-There are twelve agents in total, with Fredrik as their handler. Each agent is divded into pairs, and each pair is responsible for their respective district. Thus, there are six pairs and thus, six districts.
-The Noir corporation is a conglomerate that makes consumer and surveillance electronics, and offers private investigative services. It is also a close partner of all U.S. intelligence agencies, and therefore has access to any crime scenes their agents wish to investigate or evidence the police has.
-Fedosya hides her some of her guns and equipment in a painting above her loveseat.
-She always wears a blood drop earring on her right ear. The significance of this jewelry piece will be explained in later chapters.
That's all for now. The next chapters are coming soon.
Silly me. Hopefully, this will be the last edit I'll have to make to these chapters, but I forgot to mention an earring Fedosya always wears. Read the spoiler above for more details. Also, just to keep you guys updated, I just began writing chapter four. I may post this chapter individually, or post a two or three chapter set. We'll see. Thanks to all my readers.
 

Kargan3033

Club Regular
Joined
Aug 10, 2015
Nice, I am wondering what her earing will mean in the over all story, I look forward to reading the next chapter(s) when you post them.
 

Antimatter42

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Update Post #2: Chapter five is now up. Chapter six is coming very soon. As a fair warning, chapter six will contain a bit of horror and sexual violence. I will type in a warning before this scene begins, so you can skip ahead. I wish you all a Merry Christmas, a Happy Holiday, and a lovely day.
-Antimatter42
 

Antimatter42

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Update Post #4: Here it is, the first post of 2019 on this thread. As you can see above, chapters seven and eight are now up. Bear in mind that this whole story is a rough draft meant to test the overall audience response. Also, chapter seven contains what is the first sex scene I have ever written. Whether it is badly or greatly written, please let me know. it may be a while until I post the next chapter, as alas, I have now run into writer's block. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story.
-Antimatter42
 

Kargan3033

Club Regular
Joined
Aug 10, 2015
The last three chappters, haven't been follow this story lately due to feeling like crap.

Speaking of vampires, what did the one lez vampire say to the other lez vampire?
 
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