STORY OF A DEATH

Chapter 1

Camille POV

My name is Camille Velkan.

My life was never special but I would like to think that at least my death meant something to someone. If it was for only one person, it'd be enough to me and I would know that was worth it in the end.

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One Year Before

To Camille Velkan, a young Englishwoman newcomer to the city of Shreveport, in the state of Louisiana, a trip alone and without really knowing why she landed in that place, was one of the most intense and revelatory experiences she had ever expected to find.

She just turned twenty-four and decided that she was tired of her life in Manchester and her job as a part-time waitress to pay her literature career to become a professional writer. There was still a long, long way for that to happen, and staying in England was not helping her. She decided that she had to take advantage of her youth, to accumulate new experiences, and enjoy adventures, even risky ones.

Her parents did not agree and her friends believed she had gone mad. Almost all of them did try to convince her otherwise but for Camille there was no turning back. Surrendering would mean giving up things she needed, changes that might help her to discover things about herself that maybe she wouldn't know if she remained in Manchester, so she packed her bags, took all the money she had saved and bought a plane ticket to America. She didn't even look at the destination, she just chose the first leaving.

Shreveport, Louisiana.

None of her friends or her parents went to say goodbye, although Camille wasn't expecting it. But it didn't matter, she only thought about the new adventure she was about to begin and all the new things that will soon become part of her life.

However, not all the money saved allowed her a very good apartment or many luxuries. At least her new home was located in downtown and that exceeded the negative part, or Camille preferred to think that. But she was strong and a small one bedroom place, a tiny kitchen and a bathroom in which there was barely room wouldn't depress her. No, because she actually had done the hardest part of her plan, leaving the safety of her home and Manchester and starting something new and unknown.

"Well, not so bad." She said closing the bathroom cabinet and looking herself in the mirror. "And I'll feel better after a hot shower."

She was euphoric and excited, but when the water began dropping on her back she couldn't help breaking to mourn. She wasn't feeling sad but suddenly the weight of all happened invaded her and she was unable to control herself. Although she preferred not admit it, it hurt that her family and friends acted against her criticizing her because of what she was about to do. And it did hurt even more that none of them appeared at the airport at the last moment to wish her luck. No, they only proved that they cared nothing for her dream and that she would probably return in a couple of months after running out of money.

That first night was hard for her. She cried several times before falling asleep from exhaustion, and she woke up before dawn. The time difference would still accompany her for a few days, but seeing the sunrise made her feel a little better. She interpreted it as a sign and grabbed her notebook to access to the website of her college to see the readings she'd have to read to continue her studies. She stayed in bed for half an hour until she finally got up, took a quick shower, got dressed and went out to look for a job that would allow her to live in Shreveport for a long time.

She asked in some bookstores and the local library, and even tried in several schools in the area, but unfortunately she did not get a job in none of them. It didn't help that she was foreign, and even if they didn't say it to her face, Camille knew. She did know that it wouldn't be easy to find a job, and instead of feeling disappointed she decided to take it as a personal challenge and continue with her search. She did register her in several websites to receive alerts about jobs but her smartphone hadn't alerted her yet of anything. It wasn't strange because she was in the place for less than twenty-four hours so she would continue searching.

It was getting dark and she still didn't know the town so going away or to choose unfamiliar paths were not good ideas. Camille knew that coming back home was the best but to explore a little wouldn't hurt anyone. The nightlife was amazing, almost seemed like she was in a completely different Shreveport, but what caught her attention were groups of people dressed in black and leather, maybe on their way to some fancy dress party, and she thought that'd be funny. Why couldn't she take risks for once in her life? Besides, the bigger risk of all was already taken: leaving home and her comfortable life to start something unknown and exciting.

"Yeah, why not?" She told herself and followed a small group that headed down the street.

Of course, she wasn't dressed for the occasion. But her tight jeans, pink sweater and comfortable sneakers would have to serve, but there was also the possibility of being kicked out because of her clothes. In that case, at least she would have tried.

A huge queue formed along the street, the end was barely visible, and she thought her adventure had come to an end. It'd be dawn before she could access to the club, but she behaved in a naughty way and decided to sneak in with the group she had joined without them knowing. Luck was on her side, as other friends kept their place in line, and Camille did the same sneaking in like she belonged with them.

She couldn't believe it, she was so close to door that she was even able to read the red neon sign announcing the local's name.

"Fangtasia?" She muttered chuckling. Wordplay, she thought, and giggled at the thought that the interior would be inspired by a Gothic or sinister theme to attract as much people as possible and most of them showed up dressed in black leather or latex. In Manchester there were similar locals although Camille knew none with such an original name. In fact, she hadn't even been inside because they were not her style, and she preferred a good coffee or tea in a quiet place than a crowded club full of people and with music blaring.

And yet, there she was queuing up like the rest and willing to go in and join the gothic atmosphere. It was so unlike her yet so risky that Camille vibrated inside waiting to discover a new secret of Shreveport's nightlife.

"You come here often?" A guy wearing white makeup and lots of black eyeliner asked her.

"Sure, almost every night." Camille believed that confessing that it was her first time wouldn't be the most appropriate if she wanted to be part of the atmosphere, but when he looked at her clothes he didn't believe her. "I just got off work and I haven't had time to change. You know, this got packed and I didn't want to waste time." The guy nodded and forgot about her to focus on the conversation he had with his friend.

There were only a few people ahead of her when Camille realized the man at the door was requesting documentation to everyone. Luckily she had it on but perhaps he wouldn't let her in seeing her dressed in ordinary clothes. Slowly she came closer and when she was face to face with one of the largest and palest men she had ever seen, so she swallowed and handed him her ID with a trembling hand.

"You don't look twenty-four." He said with a deep but delicate voice, surprising for someone who looked like a bully.

"Well, I am. I'm happy to look younger." She joked but he didn't laugh, instead he allowed her to come in.

Dark, flashing lights, loud music and people everywhere. Black was the dominant color and Camille immediately noticed that she drew attention because of her pink sweater. She knew she was attracting stares from both men and women, but since she was already in she wasn't going to feel embarrassed. No, actually she needed a distraction and nothing better than going to the bar to order a drink. The waiter, a tanned but pale skin man with dark eyes stood in front of her across the counter.

"Hi, may I have a mojito, please?" He gave her a smile that unnerved Camille but he left to prepare the drink. That was when the girl noticed the amount of tribal tattoos that adorned his body, perhaps a tribute to his native roots.

"Thank you," she replied grabbing the glass and turning on the stool to look at the rest of the room. However, she still could feel the barman's piercing eyes on her neck but she didn't turned. Something warned her not to and Camille listened to her inner voice. Sooner or later he would cease unnerving her and that's what happened when he left to attend to other customers. She was relieved though no one except her realized, and took a huge drink to quench her thirst, and why not admit it, her nerves as well.

"It's just another club," she muttered somewhat disappointed. She had almost expected to find a unique and exciting place to hang out and meet mysterious people, but not. Even for a second she thought about finishing her drink, pay and go home to search the Internet for a job, but at that moment two people, a man and a woman, appeared on a stage in which three large chairs had been placed, and they sat down on them. Customers gasped surprised to see them, almost as if they were worshiping them, and Camille did not understand the reason. Yes, they were very attractive, but that did not mean they had to be idolized.

"I can't believe it, they're here!" An excited girl yelled hugging her friend. Both of them wore black leather miniskirts…and the rest was hard to describe. "Hope they choose me, I don't care if it's him or her, but I'd love to be fucked tonight." Camille almost spit on her drink but caught herself, she was more interested in hearing the rest of the conversation.

"You know what we have to do, attract their attention." They both nodded and in lower voice she continued. "Besides, I've heard that they even like sharing, can you imagine? To be with them at the same time…" They moaned in pleasure and Camille drank the rest of her drink in one gulp and paid the bill on the bar. She wanted to get out of there, and she had already heard too much and wasn't in the mood to keep spying on foreign conversations about sexual fantasies.

"Leaving already?" The barman's voice startled her because she listened him perfectly despite the noise.

"Yes, too late for me." And with no more conversation she started walking toward the exit. She didn't want to stay there any longer, and suddenly had the feeling that she'd only feel safe in her small rented apartment.

Fresh air filled her lungs with the first breath she took already outside. There were still a lot of people waiting to get into the club but Camille kept walking in the opposite way to get away from there as soon as possible. She needed to relax and forget about what she heard and get back to a safe place. She was already feeling a little better when her cellphone beeped and she grabbed it to see what it was about. Alert job in a fast food restaurant.

"No, thanks." She muttered after erasing the message and put the phone back into her pocket. She was going to keep walking when she saw a motionless shadow in front of her, really close to her. "Hello?"

"Is there anyone there?" No answer but Camille nearly had a heart attack when a cat ran away hitting a garbage can in its path. "Damn cat…" But then she saw that the human form shadow had moved and was now behind her. "What the hell…?"

"I smell your blood, honey. So pure…" A creepy and deep voice whispered. "Let's play."

Camille did not think twice and ran. She was new in town but she already had memorized the shortest way to get to her apartment and wasn't going to stop until getting there. But what if who pursued her reached her before feeling safe? What if that creepy lunatic was able to break the door down and attack her in her own home?

"Blood?" Asked to herself as she was running. She was barely able to breathe but the other option was worse. Stopped a moment to catch her breath but for no more than thirty seconds. Whoever was following her was having fun with that cruel game, and Camille wanted to get home and break to mourn. She couldn't take much more and her legs were aching.

"Please…I don't even know you." She muttered in the dark. There was no answer or evil laughter. It was as if everything had suddenly vanished, but as soon as Camille relaxed and came out of her hiding to leave that horrible place, she found herself face to face with the club's bartender. "You…I'm sorry, you…you scared me." She swallowed several times to try to calm down. "I believe you made that psychopath that was chasing me to think twice. Thank you." She extended her hand to thank him but the man did not move. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Now I will go home…"

"Why do you think you can go?"

Camille did not understand a thing and thought it was a joke. "Umm…sorry, I don't get it…" She was speechless when she saw two huge and sharp fangs poking out through the man's lips. "What…? No…not possible…"

"This would have been much simpler if you had stayed at the club," he said as approached her, "but I won't deny that the run has awoken my appetite." Camille tried to walk away but was trapped between him and the grimy wall. "I never reject a fleeing prey, it causes the blood to flow hot and harder." Stroking one of her black tresses, he got even closer to her as she did not stop trembling. "Perhaps I turn you into my pet," he joked but he was actually serious, "if I am able to stop drinking in time." He lunged at her and Camille closed her eyes, feeling the tears running down her cheeks, but she did not feel any pain.

In fact, she could move now, there was nothing keeping her pinned against the wall. That man…or whatever he was, had vanished and the only clue she had was an air stream and a huge shadow moving at high speed in the opposite direction.

She wondered for a second what happened but forgot about it and ran away to her apartment. She just wanted to arrive and close the door, maybe lock it with something, and hide under the covers. Yes, that was exactly what she most wished to do and took advantage of the confusion to start running again and not stop until arriving home.