Sameth Green: It’S Always About Blood

By Dill Binsabt

His presence was intoxicating.

From the moment he entered our mysterious town, we were consumed. I was mesmerized, completely taken by him, but not like everyone else. They stared at him like a juicy piece of meat.

The men looked at him like a meal; they sniffed the gorgeous scent of his blood like a druggie does to a fresh bag of pot. I could tell that if they ever managed to get the poor human boy alone, they would share him among their fellow young vampires and feast on him. They would bite into his warm flesh and feel his blood flow to the surface, through the wounds that they inflected on him. They would drink his blood, which smelled so very delicious.

His blood was rich with life and love and coated with a thick layer of innocence. You could smell his joys and pleasures. Biting into him would give them a true high that would last days, if not a week or two. They would laugh in the horrible ecstasy of his screams until the loss of blood left him too weak to utter a sound. That would thrill thema greater thrill than sex, and believe me, vampires love sex.

His name was Justin Collin, and he too consumed me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504988780

Book preview

© 2015 Dill Binsabt. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Cover image designed by Afnan Abdullah

Instagram portfolio: bloodvapor

www.behance.net/afnana

www.facebook.com/afnanart90

Published by AuthorHouse 10/22/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8877-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8876-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8878-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One The Human in Town

Chapter Two First Day at School

Chapter Three Gym

Chapter Four Misery Makes Easy Prey

Chapter Five Combat 101

Chapter Six The Block

Chapter Seven Fun in the Gym

Chapter Eight Secret is Out

Chapter Nine Truth-Telling Time

Chapter Ten The Master Plan

Chapter Eleven Counting Down to Midnight

Chapter Twelve Such a Disappointment

Chapter Thirteen Good-bye

A special

thank you to my family and closest friends for supporting me on this adventure.

This book is for you.

Just so you know …

I ran home. I had to get home. I had to warn my parents: evil was coming. I ran through the night, through cold rain and mud, my black hair swinging wildly around my face, slapping my neck and back. I raced through wet lawns and down streets, looking back every now and then to make sure I wasn’t followed, even though I felt like I was. There was a presence around me. I ran through our lawn and up to our big, white porch. I slammed the door open and stood in the doorway, stunned and petrified. My eyes opened wide with shock. There, my mother lay in the middle of the living room.

Mom! I cried, running to her side and checking for any signs of life. I was too late. She was not breathing.

I scanned her body with my eyes, still shocked and disgusted. She was covered in blood. It ran from her mouth into her hair, which framed her head all in disarray. It covered her neck and stained her favorite purple blouse.

I began to cry. "Why?" I shouted, tears pouring out of my eyes, burning my cheeks and dripping onto the pale, lifeless flesh of my mother.

Suddenly, I heard a sound. The front door behind me began to close. It closed dramatically and terrifyingly slowly, with a creak. I stopped crying; I stopped breathing. I turned my head and confirmed my fear … I was not alone.

His eyes were on me, sharp and cold, digging down into my heart and soul. He smiled at me with such humor. My fear amused him. His smile was twisted. He pushed away from the door and moved toward me like a snake. A motionless body appeared behind him. It was my father, also lifeless, and pinned to the wall with stakes. That creature—that snake—grabbed me with a smooth motion that was so fast that I had no time to react or scream. Tears began to run again. He held me in his arms, and with the creepy hum of a tune that would later haunt me, he danced my almost paralyzed body to the nearest wall, where he held me tightly. He was so unnaturally strong. He pinned my arms above my head with one of his. The other hand was not needed; I could not budge.

No! Please … I begged, crying, struggling to break free.

Shh, Sammie … he whispered, his voice giving me goose bumps.

He looked deep into my wet eyes. He was enjoying this. His free hand slowly moved up my hip and to my waist. He unzipped my hoodie, playing with the zipper between his fingers. He scanned my wet body with his emotionless eyes. He pushed my head back and ran his long, cold finger along my outstretched neck, tracing it and leaving a trail of freezing skin behind. That creature lowered his nose close to my neck and inhaled my scent. He made me shiver. His lips were cold to the touch as he lightly rested them on the curves of my right shoulder and whispered in his naturally creepy way: You will do.

With those last three words, the words I will never forget, he dug his teeth into his own wrist and sucked his own blood, gathering it into his mouth and cheeks. I felt nausea growing deep within my stomach, and horror overtook me. He moved closer to me, pushing against me and sliding his bloody wrist away from his mouth, staining his cheeks. I could smell the stink of his fluids on his face. His lips, covered in a coat of red, came near to me and forced themselves on top of mine, separating my trembling lips and releasing the blood they held into my mouth, covering the walls of my throat. I tried to scream. I jerked and kicked, trying to get away. It was no use. I could feel his blood pouring into my body; it was so cold. Of course it would be; he was cold. I tried to scream again.

As soon as he was satisfied that his horrid essence had clung to the inside of my chest, he released me. I fell to the floor, coughing and grasping my throat. I quickly tried to escape. I scrambled to my feet, slipping and sliding on the blood that surrounded my mother. I raced to the door, passing my father’s corpse, and headed to freedom … or so I thought. He wasn’t finished with me.

Just as my sneakers touched the wood surface of our porch, I felt his ice-cold hands grab my head. He wrapped his fingers around my neck and turned me. He twisted my neck, snapping it, turning my head in a direction that it could never naturally turn. My body went numb, and I fell to the ground.

That was all I could remember from that night. His sharp eyes were forever imprinted in my mind. The next thing I knew, I was waking up suddenly and sharply, as if from a bad dream. I found myself sitting straight up on the porch, sore, wet, and alone. Then … the horrible memory of the night before came rushing back to me: the fear, the shock, the blood, and him. I slowly moved my hand to my heart. It was not beating. I knew then.

Hello. My name is Sameth Green, and I am now one of them … a vampire.

CHAPTER ONE

The Human in Town

H is presence was intoxicating.

From the moment he entered our mysterious town, we were consumed. I was mesmerized, completely taken by him, but not like everyone else. They stared at him like a juicy piece of meat.

The men looked at him like a meal; they sniffed the gorgeous scent of his blood like a druggie does to a fresh bag of pot. I could tell that, if they ever managed to get the poor human boy alone, they would share him among their fellow young vampires and feast on him. They would bite into his warm flesh and feel his blood flow to the surface through the wounds that they inflected on him. They would drink his blood, which smelled so very delicious.

Oh! How delicious it smelled!

His blood was rich with life and love and coated with a thick layer of innocence. You could smell his joys and pleasures. Biting into him would give them a true high that would last days, if not a week or two. They would laugh in the horrible ecstasy of his screams until the loss of blood left him too weak to utter a sound. That would thrill them, a greater thrill than sex—and, believe me, vampires love sex.

The female vampires of my generation were just as taken by the sweet aromas that pulsed through his veins; however, their desires for the package the blood came in were the strongest. His blond hair and handsome features hypnotized them. As he walked down the hall, their eyes widened. They scanned every part of him, not missing a