Tale of a Vampire Assassin

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

I am an assassin in the year 2018. My job is to go in and fix a problem before the problem arises. My sector is National security. You see, I run with this whole team of gear heads. Back in the day they were called computer nerds or video game junkies. They figured out this program that calculates, down to the exact minute, when a big crime will take place. Then come the psychics. The gear heads tell this psychic person the exact date and time and the psychic can tell us who will be committing said crime, who they operate under, and where they will strike. And that is where I come in.

My team sends me to this place and I stay there, waiting; watching. As the person approaches, after I've done days of research on them, I attack. I gun them down from miles away and my team comes in, grabs the person up before their body hits the ground, and they get rid of them. My only objectives are to follow orders and get the job done. I do. I've never failed a mission and I don't plan on starting anytime soon, either. I'm number one and it's going to say that way.

Bank robberies are my specialty. Sometimes I like to follow my target around. Especially if it's a man. If he's headed for a cup of coffee before his big act I follow him in; ask for a ride to someplace over a cup or two of coffee. I get in his car, mess with his head for a minute and then I pull out my two big guns. When he's crying I show him my badge and tell him he's under arrest. Then he's put into the custody of the FBI. What happens to him after that is he's put into questioning and under tight supervision, which I have nothing to do with.

My name is Andy Moon, but everyone I work with just calls me "Shot". I took a bullet once in the thy and after that the name kind of stuck. Some still call me "Trigger." I'll explain why later. Few still call me Andy. Or Agent Moon, which is what they should be calling me.

So I guess you're wondering about your Apocalypse, right? It never happened. Well, not the one you think, anyway. See, what happened was this out break of death, murder, and suicide. The population lowered significantly. Everyone freaked out and supermarkets across the globe were emptied. Lot's of Parents shot their children thinking that the end was near. Of course they took themselves out shortly after. Sure they meant well but if they would have waited over night that could have been avoided. I thought about putting a bullet in my mouth myself but I couldn't do it. I'd rather die with a clean slate as far as suicide goes. As for the others who did what I couldn't I admire their bravery. I could never go through with it.

But that was also the day that I met HIM. He was old and starving and I brought him to the closest blood bank. I knew what he was the moment I set my target eyes on him and I just knew I had to save him. The moment I gave him a bag of blood he transformed. He was otherworldly and sick and when his fangs protruded from his canines -his canines not his incisors, because that's where everyone gets it wrong, check your local dictionary-I just COULDN'T leave. So I stayed with him.

After the first few dozen bags he told me his name. Said it was "Freedom". After the second dozen he tells me his real name, Marcus Abernathy. Said he was born in America in the late 1800s. When it was just New England. He said he went back to Germany with his father when he was only seven. His dad didn't survive the trip. He lived with a young married couple there who took him in as their own and they died when he was only 18.

Marcus-Mark for short-married at the age of twenty-one to a girl who lived practically down the street from him in Germany. He was deeply in love with his wife, and when she was pregnant with their first born, she was killed in a knifing in Germany. Her murderers raped her and then stabbed her to death. Mark later turned to drink and stayed intoxicated to keep the memories of his beautiful wife, Lilly, away. Although his night mares never left him.

A few years after her death he was stumbling down an alleyway in the city when he was taken. His maker, Evangeline, stole him away with her kiss and told him her story, which he never has told me, and she let him choose for himself. Her exact words were, "Marcus, I've been watching you for years now. I can take all the pain away from you. I can end it now for you or you can walk away from me a new, changed man and be like me. It's yours to decide." Mark chose to be like her, which ultimately led him to me. And I will eternally be grateful to him for that.