Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2278294-The-Assault-in-the-Fog
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2278294
Vampires in Modern day San Francisco, CA (based on picture prompt)
Assault in the Fog:
N.A Miller

San Francisco, better known as the city, swirled in a misty shadow as night fell upon the semi-deserted streets. A place known for its homeless, crime, and cold nights is the place of the tale I tell. It was on the city streets at 2 AM that I received the call in the car, an incessant beeping on the radio for the call-up signal, and then the grated voice of dispatch giving out the calls it receives for a city in turmoil. No night is different, just crime, violence, and homeless in a city turned upside down. My name is Murphy and I am a detective for San Francisco Police Department. This is my story.

“Car 55, come in please.” The voice said, and I glanced at the radio sitting idle as I let the heater do its work, on a cold night. I shook my head as I reached down to adjust the radio volume. The call was for me.

“Car 55, here.” I said, picking up the receiver.

“Possible 187 at 4th and King Ave.” The voice said. I grimaced at the code for Homicide but I shook my head, clearing my negative thoughts and focusing on rolling to assist. I hated this code, there was a person killed for nothing usually, and their innocent blood spilled over the usual urban violence of the city.

“Roger.” I replied, and I put the car in gear and with lights and no siren, I rolled down the city streets. I happened to only be two blocks away.

I didn’t hurry with sirens blaring, and only lights would be adequate. It wouldn’t tip off the perp if he was still in the area that someone reported his actions to the police department. .

When I arrived at the street, I stopped the car, and got out. As I did so, I holstered my service revolver at my side, and checked the charge of my tazer unit. Slowly I walked in the thickening fog, across the street, the yellow street lights muffled by the mist and sprinkling rain falling upon me, quite the usual weather for the city this time of year. The street was abandoned at this hour, not a living soul usually inhabits this area except homeless or criminals, being that it is an industrial area near the docks and near the rail lines belonging to the Cal train ™ Commuter service people working in the area.

As I walked down the street I tripped over a body lying on the curb. It was that of a brunette woman, her clothes in tatters, and the throat was brutally slashed. Two holes piercing her neck at the nap of it too. A pool of blood glistened in the yellow streetlights, and the mist growing thicker with each passing minute.

“Bravo six to dispatch.” I said shakily in the handset.

“Bravo six, go ahead.”

“I need back up. I need three units sent, found a civilian down, at 4th and King, near Cal train. I think it’s Officer Crawford, whose off-duty and listed as missing the last three days. Send Ambulance to location.”

“Roger, Bravo six.”

“All units, backup requested at King and 4th Street.” The voice said, “Officer down.” It was followed by a beep. I heard a clatter in the shadows and I drew my service revolver. My heart leapt as the mist and fog swirled along the street, the light above muffled by its thickness, making it hard to see anything.

“San Francisco, Police Department!” I shouted, “Come on out.”

There was another clatter and I slowly moved forward.

“Come out, where I can see you, or I will send in the dog!” I shouted, and again it was met with silence.

I saw a shadow in the darkness, a lumbering figure and I raised my weapon.

“Hands in the air, or I will shoot!”

The figure stopped and half turned. He was clad in black and red, and wore a cape. His face was obscured by a hood.

“Put your hands up and drop to your knees you pervert, or I will kill you where you stand.”

The figure turned and began walking toward me. I pointed my weapon, and my finger found the trigger. I pulled it unhesitatingly and my revolver, firing three slugs hit the figure, throwing him back on the ground. I ceased fire and gasped loudly as the figure slowly rose to his feet.

“What the fuck? I just hit him at ten yards, with a forty caliber, and hollow points. It can’t be the son of a bitch is getting up.”

The figure lumbered to it feet and I aimed again and pulled the trigger, firing twice as two slugs hit the head of the perp, a large hole appearing there, like in his chest, blood splattering and brain matter splattering on the ground. Turning the figure moved slowly toward me, and I glanced down at my pistol.

“This can’t be right.” I thought, taking a step backwards.

“It must be Meth amphetamines.” I thought and blinked, reloading quickly as I peered into the pale face of the perpetrator. He was tall and pale, with red eyes and a hard expression. The bullet holes that I had put into him had vanished and I grimaced, realizing I was in big trouble.

“Okay, this is weird; he’s dressed up as a fucking vampire.” I declared to myself, hearing the disbelief and fear in my voice. In the distance I could hear the wail of sirens approaching. I aimed for the head of the stranger, and put three rounds there again, and yet the perpetrator still walked toward me. --Click--

“Ah shit.” I muttered, and heard a hiss erupt from its lips as he leapt at me. He reached out and knocked the gun loose and it clattered onto the ground as I held him off, staring at the cold pale face, and the glistening fangs that were blood covered from the other officer that he probably killed in cold blood.

Using my martial arts ability, I threw it off and with a jump kick was on my feet in an instant. I backed away from him, as it approached, the gun still quite a distance in the grass, as the thick mist billowed around the both of us.

I moved toward the gun, and the stranger followed, blocking my way. I felt the sheath of my knife I kept on my leg, secreted as backup if shit was hitting the fan and I didn’t have a weapon. I heard it hiss again as the wail of sirens grew closer.

“Come on!” I muttered to myself, wishing for the Police 12 gauge that if fired would literally shred body parts, Meth or not, or for any other drug reason.

“Blah, Yhou cannot escape, you are in my power.” It said, “Come to me.”
I seemed to dull a bit as I took a step, and waking out of a dream shook my head.

“I don’t think so, asshole.” I said, as it hissed and charged. Reaching down for the blade at my leg, I rolled and threw my knife. The blade struck the perp perfectly in the chest, and it hissed as it gasped, disappearing in a flash and a vapor cloud.

The sirens ceased as I dropped to my knees, recovering the blade that I slipped into the sheath on my leg. The crazy idiot was dead. I passed out into the grass and don’t remember a thing afterward.

When I woke, I was on a gurney, next to the ambulance. I was disoriented and fatigued and unsure what had happened.

“Damn, that was weird!” I thought, and felt wet on my neck as I wiped the blood from my neck.

“Fuck.” I cursed, “The son of a bitch bit me!”

Grimacing, I got up from the gurney, moved to the cruiser mirror and looked at two spots that had pierced my neck. Shaking my head, another detective joined me as I walked toward the Captain.

“You alright Murphy?” He asked and I nodded my head.

“Yeah, another weirdo for the books.” I said, and grimaced, holding gauze on the wound.

“You better get to a hospital, you don’t look well.” He said, and I grimaced at him.

“Ha, Ha.” I replied sarcastically, “I’m probably going to turn into a vampire now… Total bullshit…”

“No, you really don’t… you better get looked at.” Another detective told me, and I nodded sarcastically.

“Consider it an order.” The Captain told me, and I just sighed.

But little did I know that things would start to change for me, my lifestyle was about to change, and there would be nothing I could do about it. Let alone would my boyfriend understand as my crazy behavior would push him away from the relationship. I was about to enter the life of the undead, but at first only went to the hospital to get checked out for the superficial wound on my neck.

It wasn’t until I requested nights that I noticed a change about myself. I seemed to flourish and my life started to be turned upside down, making me only wonder as I stared at my pale form in the mirror of the ladies’ lavatory. Shaking my head, I returned to duty like nothing else had happened that night. Until one night I found myself on a roof, and I jumped off the edge, falling to the pavement, landing on my feet, my form briefly changing into what I feared would happen. It had been a bat.

I realized the horror of it all now and there was little I could do about it. I was a vampire and on the streets of San Francisco. What more was there to do than to hide, in the shadows and pray on the weak?

“Great.” I said, “Fucking great. I don’t need this.”

But only time would tell how much it would change for me, and this was only the beginning. I needed help and didn’t know what to do to help myself. I was doomed, and I knew it.

“Now what?” I asked myself, “I go blah, blah, blah, and blah as a blood sucking vamped girl or what?”

Shaking my head, I returned to my car, trying to hide the truth until one night it went to far and I fed on human blood to quench my blood-thirsty urges. It went to far when I woke in bed with my boyfriend and he lay in a pool of blood. I started screaming and didn’t stop until I woke in bed next to Jack my boyfriend. It had been a weird dream. Grabbing a mirror nearby, I checked my neck and saw the hint of the two spots there. I realized it had not been a dream. It had really happened.

WC – 1,811
© Copyright 2022 N.A Miller (nathanielm451 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2278294-The-Assault-in-the-Fog