A pure narrative of the movie. I'm not sure how many people do this - I wrote it more to practice my writing skills rather than a fanfic. Needless to say –

spoilers! spoilers! spoilers!

BLOOD

The Last Vampire

Before she was reduced to the sickly-sweet emo Buffy look-a-like we all know and love, Saya was a cold, hard, cruel femme fatale. This is her back when she was bad-ass:

Disclaimer: BLOOD: The Last Vampire © Manga Entertainment & Production IG/ IG Plus

In other words not me

Chapter 1

Blood on the Tracks

The phone rang.

Piercing the sound of even the oncoming train a man, a young looking man in his crisp navy blue jacket except for balding on top answered it as the whistle blew behind him, followed by a siren-like blare. He seemed surprised, behind his office window, by what the caller said.

The train squealed to a sighing halt as the bright red doors parted and the masses emptied, people coming home from work. A bored-sounding voice said "Please take all your belongings with you." The lights overhead glowed faintly green. "This will be the last train going to Asakusa."

Behind the dark coats leaving their seats sat a melancholy adolescent with a bored expression on her face, staring at nothing on the ground. Despite the long sheathed case used to transport, they don't know what, which she held tightly at her right side, she was easy to ignore. This said, it was odd to see someone her age travelling this late alone.

Behind them another train passed straight through the station.

The train guard, his coat as blue as the one who answered the phone, blew his whistle. The doors shut less smoothly than they had opened as the hydraulic breaks heaved and the train blared its horn once again and with a diminishing echo left the station.

Whole carriages seemed to thunder as it passed through the tunnels of the underground. She could feel the floor move beneath her feet. The lights shone against the polish.

There were only two passengers left. Her, and an unremarkable man, flopped lazily on the other side of the carriage, right next to the door. Lights passed outside the windows like fireflies.

Her head turned to face him.

The noise of the train was no more than a dull roar. The emptiness was chilling.

His arm was draped over the metal pole sticking out the wall, again, next to the door. His burgundy tie hardly stood out against his deep brown clothes, the same colour as his hair. Everything about him looked dishevelled, even the skin sinking into his cheeks looked washed out.

The girl watched him with a predator's gaze.

Outside the trained bored over the rails like a giant millipede with laser-red eyes, guided by the eerily green lights surrounding it. Wheels grated smoothly over metal. There was something dank about the empty tracks before it, like filming a cave with night-vision goggles. Stains ran down the walls where there was no point in cleaning. The horn blared.

The hand bars shivered. Everything inside was new and clean, without the grubbiness through which it travelled. The girls held onto her cover before the man opened one eye, as if he knew all along she was watching him. Their eye contact was unnerving.

Bars flashed as headlights spilled over them and the train's incessant noise turned into one harsh, low breath. Even they seemed to shake. White light covered the railing and the noise increased, inhaling before the lunge, until furious sparks leapt and smothered them in darkness. They seemed to shriek as it did so.

The lights in the first carriage buzzed and went off.

Then the other with a clunk.

Then the other.

Then theirs.

The girl with a scowl on her face sprung up with dangerous fervour and raced towards the other passenger; eyes white with fear he suddenly stood with his mouth agape at the person coming quickly towards him. The fireflies made her seem closer than she really was and her braids flew out behind her.

Desperate he clambered towards the back door and scrambled at the lock, oblivious to the rattling train; over his shoulder she raced straight towards him. He almost had the door open.

The girl opened her sheath, heard the scrape of the blade without taking her eyes off him and with both hands gripping the handle and a hot yellow light behind her stared right into the eyes of the terrified man, and with the sickening noise of metal striking flesh, cut him down.

The pain made him fling his head back. Then he slid slowly to the floor. The girl regarded him with contempt, as though she were watching him from behind the exit.

The train, unabashed by what had just happened inside, carried on rattling. With a dizzy flash the lights quickly returned, lighting up down the capsules in an orderly fashion.

She picked up the bloodied piece of paper she accidentally dropped and scrunched it in her hand. The thick black coat she wore – many sizes too big – over her pale lilac trousers and thick orange turtleneck, had deep pockets she could lose stuff in.

"We will be stopping in Asakusa shortly."

Her face was bland and unemotional, not with a disregard for what she had done but the same preoccupied look she'd had all day.

On the glass were the tiniest specks of blood.

"This will be the final stop."

A single white eye shone as train slowly pulled into the final station; it looked like all the others. There the guard, who looked just like all the others, stood waiting patiently. It breathed one last end-of-the-day breath and the last of the weary mean disembarked the 2119. The far older conductor asked the driver off as the younger man slipped a clipboard under his arm.

Unlike every other person there who headed towards the stairs of light, out of one rudely shoving one of the ex-passengers, ran a white man and a Negroid. They stood out from the rabble of people heading home and could not afford to attract attention. But no-one cared.

Checking the black man was behind him the other sped past the happy posters of children on spotless tiled walls and briefly peered into the each of the automatic doors.

He spotted her leave the one close to the front.

"Saya!"

Without time to waste they sprinted towards the unnoticeable figure, who stayed near first carriages where people rarely sat.

"Where is the Chiropterid?" asked the Negroid curtly.

Her voice was soft and dreary "Inside." She indicated the direction with her eyes, still keeping watch on him after death as he ran in with nervous haste.

She looked up from her collar.

"The sword's getting dull. It's not sliding out of the sheath as smoothly as it should. Get me a new one now."

Saya's voice is also dull. It has the slow commanding of someone who has had their wishes voiced too many times and has lost the edge given by fear or hatred. It was towards the white man she spoke – the iron-grey hair which decreased further and further back over his forehead was slicked down smooth, and the lines that carved his protruding cheekbones of faintly tallow weather beaten skin formed wrinkles above his brow ridges made him appear older than he really was. His chin was strong and the bridge of his nose was straight and flat. Just like everyone else on the train he was wearing a suit of not-quite black and a tie the same colour as her victims', yet from this intimidating sight, to whom she reached only up to his chest, came an apologetic voice.

"I'm afraid that's not possible." His voice echoed around the walls as he reached into his inside pocket. "We don't have time right now, because we just identified another one of them." He handed the papers to her. "Swords of that quality are not so easy to get."

The black man looked around the compartment, confused at first that he didn't immediately see a mess on the seats or floor. Then he spotted the faint bloodstains shining on the metal strip, seeping from underneath the door. It had not yet stained the rest of the ground.

Fists tightly clenched she strode and regarded the blood with distaste, taking out a camera from his back pocket. Perspiration gathered on his temples as he steeled himself for the gore. With his camera already poised to his face he slid back the door and was confronted with the mangled carcass he had expected, shoved cruelly between the two boxes, but it made his recoil in disgust. He panicked inside.

"What the – ?"

He turned towards the door.

"This isn't a cheropterid! Did we get the wrong guy?" he yelled much too loudly, for the echoes carried

The white man waited patiently while she read the notes. "It just hasn't changed its form yet Lewis. Now just shuddup."

The report even made Saya's eye widen slightly. Something behind them clicked and darted towards him accusingly.

"Wait a minute. Isn't this supposed to be within your jurisdiction?"

Lewis leaded out the window, sweating freely as he twisted his neck with angry eyes.

"That's a regular human corpse in there!"

"I've already checked out all the military personnel as well as all the civilian employees involved." He replied with a flick of his lapels and digging into his other pocket. But he was not talking to Lewis.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked innocently enough, showing him the slanderous papers.

"Hey! David!"

"They've infiltrated the general public."

Her voice was suspicious now. "You're telling me to investigate this . . . ?"

"Dave!" He stood back on the platform, flinging his hands in frustration. "Take a look inside! Hey!"

David grunted with his hand on his hip. "Save it!"

Then Lewis, inexperienced, did something stupid. He looked up to the heavens and smacked his hands over his eyes:

"Oh Jesus . . ."

David gasped.

He could hear the crunch of Saya's fingers gripping his cheeks with vicious speed and strength – enough to make his eyes open, toes dance on the ground as she lifted him up into the air and hear the groans trying to escape. Lewis gripped onto her unflinching arm – partially out of fear of falling, partially out of fear from this unnatural force. Even as he crushed the fabric and flesh she gripped him tighter and tighter until his eyes scrunched up and he couldn't breathe. Lewis was a big man, as big as David with the heavy features of his race, thick lips, square chin, black bushy hair and bulbous nose; his body was a thick-set as his face and was built like a boxer. A car couldn't knock him down.

"Wait! Saya! Get a hold of yourself, now!" David suppressed the instinct to grab her shoulders.

Her eyes bright was brutality flicker to the source before the rest of her and ignores the struggling man caught I her hands. When irked the furrows between those eyes deepened.

"Not the same thing again. Do you want to announce it to the whole world!"

"I can't do anything about it." He tried to reason with her before Lewis choked. Now he had beads dotted on his nose and temples as the panic crept up. "You know the way it is by now. The orders from the top are to hunt them down no matter what." Lewis' muffled grunts struggled in her grasp. "I really don't know anything!"

Saya let him go, threw him away like something disgusting. Lewis panted heavily as tenderly touched both his cheeks, still cringing and bent over in pain. Saya watched him as she did the man in the train.

David's voice suggested nothing wayward had happened.

"It's all in there and it's arranged accordingly."

Lewis stared back at the girl with newfound anxiety, checking his fingers for blood.

"You can go tomorrow." He carried on. "I'll have your school uniform and ID ready in the locker by then."

His voice fell on deaf ears as she still stared at the injured Lewis. "You'd better read through the files carefully. We know there's more than one of – hey!"

Saya started to leave.

"Hey! Saya!"

As the girl walked out, still clutching the sword sheath though it was strapped safely to her shoulder she threw the papers in the bin harder than she needed to so that they made a flapping noise as cut the air.

"Shit!" He sprinted again as Lewis looked on with confusion. Digging them out like a tramp looking for food, no more than 30 feet away the girl didn't look back to see is the vital reports were safe.

David looked up just in time to see her walk out the door and her shadow gradually sink against the grubby metal door with each step.

Lewis still rubbed his face. "What the hell was that all about?"

David scrutinized the papers angrily and gritted his teeth while Lewis loosened his shoulders.

"You asshole!"

He turned and pounded him in the shoulder hard enough so the black man almost fell to the ground and those vital papers scattered everywhere.

He sprung up "What did I do?"

The senior commandant gripped his partner firmly by the collar and shook him to the white in his eyes showed. "Don't ever piss her off again!" he growled.

"But –"

"Listen!" rivulets of sweat were steaming down his forehead, his hands shook as he spoke. "As far as we know, she's the only remaining original!"

Lewis looked at him with the same ambiguous amazement he had for Saya.

"Original?" he repeated quietly.

He gazed at the door she had left through with the slightest hint of fear in his eyes.

Yeah I know, long innit? And I'm only 6 minutes 19 seconds through the movie.

Please R&R, so I know all that finger-cracking typing wasn't in vain. Thanks!