Tainted Blood by Martin Sharlow Page A

strength and power he had never felt before. He had spent a long time trying to forget that sensation, that thrill of power.
     
    He had spent his entire life avoiding actually taking any blood directly from humans. His aunt had always supplied fresh IVs full of blood for as long as he needed it, until recently. Even then he had his ways of getting more. So the need to feed on people...well it just wasn’t a need .
     
    It was also something he didn't want to have to do. After all, he wasn't a monster, this wasn't the dark ages. There were blood drives now and blood banks. Still, that sense of power had been dogging his wake now for some time. Not really consciously, but in the corners of his mind. The fact that if he ever needed that power, it was there for the taking. All he needed was a donor and it was his.
     
    No...there has to be another way, he thought as he reached into his supplies and grabbed two more IVs.
     
    “I'll just pump myself up with more blood. That should do the trick.” He tore open the last two containers and began to drain them of their life-giving fluid. He had no idea why fresh blood would give him more strength then stored blood. It was still good after all. People used it all the time to restore life in injured people, so why should it matter if he drank packages of it rather than fresh from the veins?
     
    After drain the last of the two, he sat down and concentrated, reaching out to that feeling that now had a voice. Reaching out to Heather.
9
    The light drew closer as Brian concentrated, and he could see now that it was the interior of what looked like a small room floating in space. A single sized bed seemed to be the only furnishing in the room. A figure sat on it, her knees pulled tight to her chest, and her face buried behind them.
     
    “Heather?” Brian called to the figure.
     
    Her blonde hair fell from her face as she looked up over her knees.
     
    “Brian?” she said in almost a whisper. He could barely hear her. “Brian, where are you?” Her voice rose to an almost panicked tone, and then he was there.
     
    It was like he broke through a thin layer of skin that blocked his way to the room. The distance just snapped away along with the film around him that stretched and tore till it was gone.
     
    Heather jumped from her bed as the sudden light from the room blinded him and made it difficult to see anything.
     
    “Brian, you're here!” She said, as she wrapped her arms around him.
     
    The room was even smaller than it looked from a distance. It was a small rectangle at best. The one piece of furniture was a single wide bed with nothing but a sheet over it. The floor looked like pocked cement with peeling green paint. The room felt cramped and small, but as Brian looked around at their surroundings, he could see that there were no walls, only darkness all around them.
     
    He bent down to smell Heather's hair. It was fresh and clean smelling, a sense of relief filled him as he began to hug her back as tightly as she hugged him. A slight pulling sensation jerked at his midriff as he inhaled her scent. The hug seemed to last forever, and Brian savored it every last second that he could.
     
    Eventually Heather pulled back from him to look at his face, and a few tears were streaming down hers as he reluctantly let her go.
     
    “You came...” she said, her voice choking as she sought to control her emotions. Watching her this way made it almost impossible for him to not reach out to her and pull her back into his arms, but he knew he hadn't much time left. He already could feel the tugging. Whatever this place was, it was still taking all of his power to stay here, and his tiring body was already trying to pull him back. Perhaps if he went to sleep here, he would be able to transport himself here. He realized, glancing at the missing walls, that it might not be a good idea. After all, this place certainly couldn't be real. It had to be some kind of dream