Page 2 of Tainted Souls
Wild vampires. In Penn City.The words echo in her head.
Wild vampires don’t care about coexistence, don’t follow rules or regulations. They kill without remorse.
“Lock down the eastern district. I want all available units redirected there now,” Helene orders to anyone within earshot, already moving toward her vehicle. “And get the emergency broadcast system running. Instruct citizens to shelter in place.”
A young man’s face pales, clearly a rookie on the force. “That bad?”
“Wild vampires don’t breach our security for a social call,” Helene says, checking her sidearm and ejecting the magazine, confirming what she already knows: basic, wooden rounds, designed for your everyday vampire threat—not the monsters that are about to tear through the city. This pistol would be as useful as spitting at those creatures.
Without wasting another second, the chief throws herself into the driver’s seat of her cruiser, every nerve screaming for speed. As she races toward the eastern district, sirens blaring, she wonders whether peace between humans and vampires is just a lie they tell themselves to avoid facing the horror that comes with the truth.
She tightens her grip on the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white, the streets blurring past her window. The Redmoore insignia still hangs in her childhood home—a stylized sword pointed diagonally downward, a crossbow arcing behind it in perfect symmetry, together forming an ‘X’ that speaks to their philosophy: power through force and strategy, strength and distance.
Five generations of her family have worn it proudly.
Her great-grandfather was one of their acclaimed slayers, credited with over two hundred confirmed vampire kills. Her grandmother, a brilliant researcher, helped design the tracking systems still in use today.
To most, it’s just a logo.
To those who have seen what that mark precedes, it’s a warning.
A legacy of blood.
That’s what her mother called it the night she announced she was leaving her slayer ways behind, believing the endless cycle of killing will never bring true safety. She would argue that for every vampire slain, five more are created in desperation and vengeance.
Helene was only seven, but she remembers the raucous shouting, her grandfather’s face red with rage.
“You’re betraying everything we stand for, Harriet!”he bellowed.
Her mother stood tall, unflinching. “I’m building something better. Something that will last.”
But a city isn’t built by a single visionary, no matter how noble their intent. It takes money, infrastructure, and power—the kind that bends governments and rewrites maps.
And as long as vampires ruled the night, Redmoore had all three. It was their funding that turned blueprints into foundations. Without them, Harriet’s brainchild would have remained a manifesto scribbled on the back of a research file.
In the fall of 1998, Penn City rose from the bones of a conquered coastal stretch, glowing like a promise, the object of universal attention. What began as a radical experiment many predicted would fail within months, now stands as the only place where humans and vampires live side by side without constant bloodshed.
But in this world, there’s always someone out for blood.
How many lives will be snuffed out because they believe vampires can be something other than monsters?
Kyla and her violation seem laughable now; she might be innocent. If she is, those wild vampires were closer than we thought—too close. They are therealthreat, the reason why Redmoore exists and why her family aligned with them for generations.
Despite the extreme lengths they may go to, they are the standard-bearers of human resistance for a reason. An organization no vampire dares underestimate, and no city in Northcross could rise without.
“Chief Penn,” her radio crackles again. “The mayor is requesting your presence for an emergency meeting.”
“Negative. I’m heading to the attack site.”
“But—”
“Tell the mayor I’ll be there when the threat is neutralized,” she says, cutting in sharply. “And get me General Lee on the line.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Rong Lee is a legend among the Pennian forces and the reason why this city works at all. The police are great at what they do, though their skill sets lack the intrinsic vampire knowledge needed to maintain order between two species who share the same streets but live by very different rules.
Where the police focus on protecting humans from the usual grime of city life—violence, theft, muggings, substance abuse—the keepers deal with the kind of disputes that don’t end with handcuffs but with body bags, handling the darker, more esoteric dangers that only they are trained to recognize and fight.
