Excerpt from BB The Revenge

I once lived as those who did their biddings during the hours of daylight. I had the love of a large family on a modest farm back in a small town in Texas. Parents that I was so close to. I directed my thoughts away from marriage, so I could help raise my five younger siblings. Then he came, my tall dark nightmare. Was he to blame for their deaths? Or was it those who opened their animalistic mouths and laid their fangs to the innocent throats of my family? My maker would have to wait his turn for me to unleash my anger upon him. There was someone else who was guilty above all others. I would make sure that she paid, even if it meant my own final termination or cost those who have chosen to follow me, with their very lives. Yvette may not have gotten their blood on her hands, but I have heard a great many things, before and after, I escaped her dungeon of torture and perversions. Enough that I felt her death in my palms, like gripping the stems of a rose bush and pulling my tightly closed hand upwards.
I would have my revenge for what was done to my family. I felt the guilt for my part in my beloved family’s demise, and I would walk the night for eternity correcting it. The one thing that I could do was make those who have committed crimes against all who have been unlucky enough to fall prey to the slavers of our kind, pay and pay dearly. I had four young orphans looking up to me as if I had hung the moon, not to mention, two that were waiting for me to save them. I was being asked questions that I had no answers for. Yet, here I sit.
I stared down at the young man that lay dying in my lap and was faced with the most difficult decision that I had ever encountered. In light of recent events, that was saying a lot. During the past few months, my life had consisted of nothing but difficult decisions. I had chosen to accept the love of a stranger. That decision ultimately leading to my death and subsequently, placed me into my new life. I chose to believe that this man had never loved me. That he was using me for some sick and twisted game. A game, in which he would sit back amused as I killed off my family one by one, all being told to me by those who readied a far more sinister plan for my services.
I had chosen to ignore my maker’s warnings about the others of our kind that walked the land that I had called my home, choosing to take their side over his. I had unknowingly betrayed him as well as myself by going with them to Cuba, to their ‘safe-haven’, only to be led into the depths of hell itself. A slave trading ring, where I was caged like an animal, set loose only when it was time for another beating, rape, or rendezvous with some prestigious ‘client’. I had chosen to risk my life and the lives of those dear to me, by trying to escape one last time, and succeeded. I allowed myself to befriend four young orphans, and return to my home in that small town in Texas; regardless of how much I was afraid of what I might find. Despite all of that, this decision, the one that lay before me now, was proving to be the hardest one to make, of all.