Vampire Revenge: Blood, Sex & Violence

He woke up early to catch the train to Manresa, left his bike in the designated place and enjoyed the landscape that surrounded him as he left Barcelona. Under the boy's skin he had experienced many trips, but being the owner of the senses or a mere spectator through them were different things.

With his planning it didn't take him long to orient himself when he got off the station in Manresa, this time he was wearing a complete cycling outfit, jersey, and perfectly suitable clothing, anyone who saw him wouldn't be surprised, and even more so when he began to leave the city outskirts and ride with his strong legs at good speed along the country roads.

Like many of the farmhouses in the area, the farm only had a small metal fence, which in the case of cattle grazing could be electrified a little to scare and keep the animals within the area.

He stopped on the side of the road and when no cars were passing by he went a little further into the forest to leave his bike, he also left his backpack where he had another complete change of clothes in case the situation got a little complicated.

He went around the perimeter of the forest until he found an area where he could easily get over the fence by climbing the first branches of a tree. There were no cattle and it was clear that there had been no activity on that farm for many years.

However, when he got closer, half hidden among the weeds that grew in the fields, avoiding being seen from any of the windows of the farmhouse, he could see the clear tracks of the wheels on the path that led to the house.

If the guy wasn't there at that moment, he would arrive sooner or later. He didn't have his cell phone with him, it would be stupid to allow them to triangulate or locate him there, but he had taken his father's watch, so he could orient himself with times and transport.

It was ten ten in the morning, he discreetly approached some hedges that looked like they had been trimmed not long ago. Although the man had not resumed his activity in the fields, he did seem to be taking care of the house.

The front yard was clean, without leaves, there were no broken windows, and even the roof looked like it had recently been repaired. The man had even set up a small scaffold to repair some things on the facade of the farmhouse.

Pablo circled the house carefully, his sharp hearing had to isolate himself from all the noises of the forest behind him, from the bugs in the field, and to hear what was happening behind the thick stone walls of the building.

It took a while until he heard the noise first of what seemed to be a television on with the news, and then the sound of a capsule coffee machine. It was clear that there was someone inside. But there was no conversation, there was no noise in different parts of the house, everything seemed to come from the living room and the kitchen.

He continued moving forward until he could see through the glass windows that looked out to the back of the house, a man of considerable age, over seventy years old, sitting on the sofa, watching TV with a coffee in his hand. With the distance and the simple old photo that Pablo had seen, he couldn't tell if it was him or not.

He had to find an excuse to enter and confirm it before deliberately killing him. With the clothes he was wearing, it would be strange for a young man to show up at his door dressed as a cyclist.

Pablo returned to the front area where the small scaffolding was and climbed up it to the window at the top, the frame was made of wood and was completely eaten away, and the man seemed to have already tried to dislodge it.

With a little effort, which was more to avoid the noise than the force needed to open it from the outside, he managed to get the window latch to come loose little by little. When it finally gave way, Pablo had to quickly grab the window sash so that it wouldn't swing and alert the inhabitant.

It seemed that he was in a young girl's room, nothing had moved during those years that the guy was in prison, according to the news the man had first killed the daughter while she was in the bathtub, repeatedly stabbing her with a sickle until she was dead. Then he went downstairs and waited for his wife, whom he stabbed with the same sickle as soon as she returned from work.

Pablo moved carefully so as not to make noise, leaving that room. On the floor there were four other rooms as well as a bathroom. If he wanted to confirm the identity, the best thing was to look for the room where the guy was sleeping.

When he entered what looked like an old master bedroom, Pablo could see a pair of dress pants neatly folded on a chair. That was the room. The vampire checked the clothes to see if he had his wallet or documents inside, but he found nothing and he folded them again as well as he could to put them back in their place. Next to the bed there were two bedside tables with drawers, but guessing which one the guy would use shouldn't be difficult. Normally he would put his clothes on the side of the bed where he got up in the morning and his things in the drawer. It was a possibility, otherwise he would have to keep looking.

The vampire carefully opened the drawer, just enough to see what was inside, and luckily there on top of the socks was the man's wallet. He carefully took it out and opened it. His gloves prevented him from leaving any fingerprints so he did it without worrying too much.

Just when he saw on the ID card that the name matched the one he had read on the news he heard noises on the stairs, the man was going up. Quickly Pablo went to hide behind the door of the room so that even if he opened it he would not be discovered, in the meantime he had already taken the fishing line out of his pocket and had rolled it in his hands leaving enough to be able to use it as a weapon.

The man opened the door of the room carelessly and entered to look for his things, however something must have alerted him because he kept looking at his clothes on the chair, that was not the way he neatly folded his pants, he was looking around.

The vampire could notice how his pulse was accelerating, it was fear, it was adrenaline that he smelled. Without waiting any longer Pablo came out from behind the door and with two loops of fishing line he surrounded the man's neck. Despite still being fairly fit for his age, he couldn't do anything against a young, strong boy. With a push from his shoulder, Pablo knocked him down onto the bed and now he began to tighten the noose even more while pushing the man's back with his leg.

He tried to defend himself and turn around, he tried to grab the thread that was stealing his air, his eyes began to swell from the effort and his face turned red. He tried to scream but Pablo's pressure only increased. A minute later the man lost his strength but Pablo continued to squeeze until the line embedded itself in the flesh and began to cut the neck.

Before he was splashed, the boy put the thread away and left the corpse of the murderer of his wife and daughter there, he had no interest in anything else, he was just another son of a bitch who passed away.

This time he didn't bother to go out through the window and the scaffolding, although it was unlikely anyone could see him from the road, so he went down to the ground floor and went out through the door to the backyard.

To get to the other side of the fence he looked for another point where he could easily cross, and then he walked through the forest until he picked up his bike and his things. He did not go out onto the road at that point but instead carried the bike on his back for a kilometre to get out onto a secondary road that he had seen on his walk there.

With the certainty that no one was watching him, he began to go down again to Manresa. The second part of the day was still to visit Montserrat. He did not know if in all those years the sanctuary could have been discovered. He knew that a large part of the mountain and the caves had been explored, and that it was an area where climbing was practised, but he had to try. He was not looking for information, he doubted that an ancient cave would be of any use, what he was looking for was to reconnect with himself, with his power, with his conscience and above all with the gift of prophecy.