The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

:Another smoldering day in Arkansas of late July, how perfect. The sun blazed onto the concrete and asphalt in the near parking lot. The rays beat upon my nearly bronzed skin under shallow blue skies. The smell of chlorine as burnt rubber masked the air at poolside. Ah yes, the perfect summer afternoon.

At the age of 23, I’m five foot seven and a slender athletic build. My eyes swam of the deepest forest green with some brown collected about the pupil. I had dark hazel eyes that could kill, as my mother once said. Long locks of dark wavy brunette swayed about the small of my back as I shifted from stomach to back. Tammy Rockford at your service. I am in my third year in college and successful in art and design classes. Yes, I did say art and design.

.:Now everything wasn’t as great as it seemed in those years. Sure I was a great student, thinking college would be safe on my first year. Naw. The art and design college in Indiana was a safe place, my first choice. The grounds were on the bank of the Ohio River; foliage of golden and ruby colors in that fall. I couldn’t have asked for a better place to be, really. But like I said, not as great as it seemed.

It was dark, far off stars shone in the pit of the night as I sat on the bank of the river. Being alone was my first mistake, and even as a freshman I should have known better. Thus from my false judgment, one wistful evening just fell into the pits of hell.

.:I lay on my back against the soft folds of a beach towel that I had brought by accident. A blanket would have been better on that night, but I never though much of the breeze. The soft spray of the river lapped at my expose arms and face, wind calm in the sixty-degree weather. The sleeveless, turtleneck sweater barely hugged my upper body, slender as it was. My jeans, although snug, had never made me feel so comfortably at home at the riverside. Closing my eyes, there was a shift in the grass about me. I had forgotten the wind was at a dead stand still so I had no complete notice of it.

.:Underneath I felt vague vibrations of footsteps, the grass hissing against the fabric of its footing. The steps came swiftly, it made my heart race and alerting me to take my ground. Soon as I pushed myself and gained my footing, a black mass had taken hold of my body, hand cupped against my mouth. The fabric of the glove was soothing, but not enough to stop my ranting screams from subsiding.

.:The heat of the figures mass made my backside sweat, strength pulling me in tighter about the waist. The stranger had not spoken one word, which worried me the most since I’ve never read or encountered a kidnapper who would be so silent. I struggled in his arms as I heard someone from the back speaking in monotone into his ear. I reared, bucked, did what I could for his grip to subside yet it always seemed to be constricting the life from me. But with one last effort I drew my lips back and bit into his fingers, tearing the fabric. At that point he had loosened his grip, trying to pry his lump fingers from my clamping mouth.

I never let go, I bit so hard that I tasted the cool slow flow if the iron from his blood. The male yelped, prying at my mouth with his opposite hand, which gave me a chance. I slammed my elbow into his solid gut, and shoved the heel of my foot into his kneecap. There was a loud pop and he fell to the ground, dragging me with him. After letting loose of his bleeding, numb fingers I rolled onto my back and pushed my aching body into an erect position. I heard a man shout in the near distance as two pairs of feet stomped my way. I booked it away from them, bare feet and all!

.:I ran, so blindly into the night nearly tripping over my own feet, I was terrified. Sweat trickled down my neck and back, the pulse stuck in the back of my throat. I could only hear the putter and shift of the grass beneath my feet as a small light shone ahead. I never looked back, not wondering if the men were chasing me. Passing a pair of oak trees, the smell exuberant, the flesh of my feet felt jagged rocks and gravel. They dug into my feet, the pulse vibrated there was if I was walking on an amplifier. There was a warehouse to my left where fishing supplies where held, the light was on.

.:The beat of my heart pounded on my ribs, heavy but light all in the same. I staggered into the warehouse but no one was there, the faint smell of earth and death was musk. It clung to my clothes, the sweat sliding down my skin. I looked around for anyone, someone and unfortunately I found them. Lying contorted on the floor was one of our students, Robert. Blood had collected in a pool about his arm, and I searched for the phone. Hurriedly I dialed for the operator and the police.

She spoke in a monotone low voice: “Operator, what is your emergency?"

“There are men… Out here, a friend of mine is already dead and they are after me!”

“Where are you located?”

I spoke trying to keep my voice low and steady, “I’m in a fishing warehouse on the campus of Hanover… Please send someone out here…!”

Her voice was still ever so calm, “We are sending someone your way, just hold on tight.”

There was a car door shutting near in the background and I panicked. I could hear men shouting. “Ma’am, are you there.”, the woman spoke once more. In a shushed, shaking voice I replied before slamming the phone onto the receiver and unplugging the wire, “There here…. God help me.”

.:Footsteps crushed into the gravel and not even knowing it I darted under a sea green tarp near the outlet. Covering a hand over my mouth I tried to breath as steady as possible when the heavy footsteps of boots clunked against the wooden floor. I could here the slight murmur of two husky voices and the distant sounds of police sirens. I heard one of them say, “Shit!”, and the other reply, “Lets get the hell out of here.”

.:Last I heard of them, the pound of their steps shook the wooden floor beneath me. As the door slammed against the frame I had pulled the tarp back and stammered to my feet. With my left arm straight against its side, my right hand gripped for the socket of my elbow in nervous agony. My body shook with something horrible, my hazel eyes seemingly grayer and dead. Like the musk of the new dead, it consumed my senses so negatively as county policemen entered the little warehouse, hand on the butts of their guns.

.:The one nearer me was about 6’2’’, grey sky eye with a wide nose and pair of saddened lips. His build was that of a football player who definitely ended his career in high school. Broad shouldered, solid beer gut and a shaggy marbled shaved face; yeah. The push of his black nametag against the black uniform said Srgnt. Reed. The man behind him was a hair shorter, maybe 5’11’’ or 6 foot even. His appearance seemed to cast some younger sense, about in his late twenties, if that. His finely hair was a dark shade of dirty blond with a pair of perfect dark chocolate eyes. Leaner than his elder, his nose was slimmer with pouting pale lips to match the freshness of his youth. His nametag read R. Stevens, simple.

.:Reed looked at me funny, like there was something on me that shouldn’t have been and took a step nearest me, Stevens at his back. He took a glance in front to see the body laid there and pool of bright crimson soaking into the wood around him. Then, he looked at me and held out his hand in an offering, I’m here to help so please take my hand kind of way. My shook my head as his raspy voice boomed about the three of us, Sergeant Reed was definitely in his fifties.

“Miss, were you the one who called for our assistance?”

My eyes turned to the unplugged phone, then back to him and nodded.

He let out an assuring smile, “I’m Sergeant Reed, and this is my partner Deputy Stevens. We are here to help you.”

I reached out to touch his hand, firm and double my size. I felt a little better. “Please, just take me out of here.”

.:He nodded and turned to his partner. We swapped hands and Stevens led me to the slender cop car along the gravel with its red and blue flashing lights. The younger officers hand as long and slender, smooth. He definitely was a runner. Entering his pocket he pulled out a ring of keys, they went clink every time you moved them in the opposite direction, and unlocked the driver side and back seat door. I voluntarily took my chances to the back seat to rest, recollect.

“How are you feeling, Miss…”

“Rockford, Tammy Rockford.”

He smiled innocent, genuine maybe and finished, “ Miss Rockford?”

“Hurt, sore and scared shitless. I almost died tonight, how else should I feel?” Too strong of words, it was the fear.

.:Stevens nodded in understanding, did he really understand? His lean arm reached over the black leather of the drivers seat and called over to his radio. There was a conversation coming about but I paid not attention. All that I could think about was how lucky I had gotten but at the price of pure luck. The agony just loomed in me, I felt as if I was carrying a ton on my backside. Not good.

.:Stevens turned back to me, looking then back to his partner who waited at the door. There was an awkward silence for twenty or so minutes when he turned to go talk to Reed who waited just outside the warehouse door. A whoop whoop of another couple cop cars and investigative members came closer to the small shack.

.:My eyes gazed about worriedly into the dark as crude whispers from my fears loomed about my mind. Stevens came back to the car and urged me with his hand to get in. His eyes looked back at me from the rear-view mirror as I closed the door. I put my seat belt on as he turned about in the driver seat, “I’m going to take you to the station, and from there you will be asked a few questions. Will you be up to it?”

I nodded, trying to keep my face blank, “ Yes, but I’ll need to get cleaned. I’m wounded and I need some type of medical attention.”

.:Without a second glance, he turned on the car and we headed out way to the police station. Oh joy. The car ride was quiet and I didn’t mind that much, really. I had noticed Stevens dark eyes glance up at me once or twice as we passed lampposts of the city streets of Hanover. Cozy.

.:Arriving at the station, Stevens opened my door and helped me out of the car. The wound on my foot made me limp, so he took my favoring side and helped me into the building. The smell of coffee loomed in the air like a blanket, warm and comforting. One of the current investigators, I suppose, greeted us and we went into her office. I was happy to see a woman about; I was starting to get a little paranoid.

.:The glass door read, “Dr. Anne Carver”, nice, simple. I took a seat across from the desk heaped with papers scattered in various stacks but hot enough to hide her face if she sat. A white box leaned next to the dark cherry desk. As I sat down, Stevens had left us and Dr. Carver knelt in front of the white box and shifted it to my feet. There were no markings on it and I couldn’t see inside as she opened it, her this straight strawberry blond hair covered both the side of her face and the opening.

“I’m going to bandage up the wound on your foot and swab the dried blood about your mouth. Will that be alright?”

.:I nodded and she went to work. The alcohol stung at the decrepit wound underfoot but didn’t waver except maybe the cringe in my eyes. After the bandage looped around my foot she knelt on one knee and held a cotton swab to my chin. I had not noticed that the mans blood had leaked that much past my lips. Suppose I didn’t really take in that much or spill it for that matter.

Dr. Carver contained the swab into a vial and tucked it into a baggie with a label that I couldn't read. She left the room with a stern look, but slight glee in her eyes. I couldn't really tell what she had succeeded but all I know is that I helped in my own way so far. I didn't know what the men looked like, but all they had to go on was the blood sample. Point for me.

.:Stevens came back not too shortly after she had left. He knelt before me and asked how I was. I told him I was all right, but why the worry and confrontation? I had seen the same glimmer in his eyes earlier that night, why did it almost frighten me. Sure, he was a stranger to me but at the same time I liked him.

Stevens told me that the victim at the warehouse had been shot and that the gun was a 9mm. I didn't have any guns so I wasn't a suspect. The DNA from the blood collected from on chin belonged to a Daniel Crowe. Reed escorted me to his office so he could ask me some questions, Stevens was left in Dr. Carvers presence. His warm chocolate iris's watched me as I walked down the hall, I could sense it. Why did it flatter, yet bother me so much?

.:Reed ushered me to take a seat across from his desk and I did. He sat on the edge of the wooden desk, his weight made it lean. I smiled.

"Do you know a man named Daniel Crowe?"

I shook my head, but the last name was familiar. "No, but.."

His left salt and pepper eyebrow shifted upward as to say, go on. I was almost regretting adding the “but”.

"But I do know a Mary Crowe."

.:He thanked me with another silent nod. Honestly, I hated it when people didn’t really tell you thank you. It is quite rude. Reed then escorted me out. Stevens stood awaited me in the hallway, his arms crossed against his chest and shoulder against the wall. My head turned to the side as a curious kitten, looking at him with innocence and just walked by him. His eyes leered at me as I walked. In passing him my head looked forward so that I did not run into anything. No more accidents today.

In the bustle of the office I heard slight heavy footsteps behind me, following me. I assumed it was one of the other officers on their way, my way, so it didn’t bother me. At the front office, a nice older gentleman greeted me. His voice was deep and hoarse, but like the grandfather you knew smoked. His snowy white hair encircled the balding spot about the forehead. His name was Ronnie Goldsmith and he informed--------- me that Stevens was to take me home. He was to search my place before I could be left to relax

.:Stevens did take me home as promised. It wasn't the best car ride of my life but it would do. Neither one of us spoke, I just relaxed against the cushions of the seat and enjoyed the quiet. The moment I sensed the street lamps above, I concluded that we had stopped at my apartment on 13th and Samuel. The brick of the buildings were chipped. Basically, these apartments were ancient. I unbuckled my seat belt and turned to thank Deputy Stevens.

"Thank you deputy for the nice quiet ride home. Now if you are going to follow me into my apartment, I want you to search it, quick and thorough."

He merely nodded with a blank face, "I understand Miss Rockford."

.:I could tell he meant it, and sooner than I thought we were inside the apartment. I had been grateful to have had the door locked before I opened it. If it had been unlocked, I would be scared shitless. It was dark, shadows from the shades lingered against the black sofa making the family room eerie. Sounds of the far off highway echoed faintly into the quiet halls. The deputy turned on the lights and I let him search through my things, the rooms. It took a little longer than I had wanted to but hey, better safe than sorry.

Stevens gave me a genuine nod and I smiled, why did I smile?

"Your rooms are cleared. Thank you for letting me check."

He was being courteous, how quaint. "I needed the security. After what happened tonight, can't be too careful."

Stevens smiled, "If you ever need anything just call for Richard."

Richard? First name, how informal. "No hesitations. Good night deputy."

He didn't smile, I suppose he was flirting with me. I was right. "Have a good evening Miss Rockford."

.:Richard Stevens left without another word, shutting the door so silently that I had to check. I did and locked the door, resting my back against it. It felt good to be home, scratch that. It felt wonderful, the heater kicked in making me jump in that moment. I took a shower immediately and then headed straight to bed. A t-shirt and sweatpants, my choice of pajamas. I cuddled the little puppy stuffed animal that lay in the center of my blankets. It was the only thing that comforted me, helping the restless fears disappear into a wistful dream.

.:Classes for the next couple of days had been cancelled so they could do a thorough investigation of the grounds, classrooms, dorms and even other living residential places for the students. I learned from another questioning that Mary had a boyfriend who happened to friends with her brother Daniel Crowe! I did know her boyfriend, Nathaniel McCarthy. Both men and Mary were suspects and put under high tension. I hoped they hadn't told them it was me, I didn't want the tension to be between friends of mine.

Stevens told me that after deep questioning, "Daniel admitted to knowing the boyfriend and attacking you, but not the dead man. I was also told that Mary knew Nathaniel was out with Daniel that night and she wasn't with either of them". So she said. "However, Nathaniel didn't admit to going out with him. He didn't have an alibi." He was 'In Deep Shit', so to speak.

.:I listened to them speak during some of the interrogations and only Daniels had sounded familiar that night. So I assumed, he was the one who hadn't held me. He didn't have a finger wound, but then again, I had barely bit into the person’s finger. Nathaniel would be let go and it made me entirely frustrated. Mr. Crowe was away but I was worried.

.:That night, I was in my apartment and had just finished taking a shower when the phone rang. I felt the need to say 'I'm coming, I'm coming', but it seemed redundant since the person on the other line couldn't hear me.((Continue here))

.:Stevens took me home and the ride there was silent. I was flustered and he was afraid to make me mad, that was okay. When we arrived at my apartment I had just opened the door when I heard him say, "Will you be alright?"

I turned and just smiled at his naive question, "I'll be fine."

.:He nodded and watched me walk to number 13. Before opening the door I looked back and he head started to drive off. Even after I entered I don't think he really left, worried maybe?

.:I hadn't really thought to be wary because there was still someone else missing from the picture. I threw my keys on the counter top and took a deep breath and looked around. Nothing. I walked back to the bedroom, nothing. I grabbed a pair of blue plaid pajama paints and a short sleeve white t-shirt and drew myself to the shower. I never locked the door to the bathroom or turned on the light.

The soap scum on the incandescent tub loomed a light yellowish-brown like usual. Nothing had been disturbed but I left a pair of scissors out to apply a new bandage. The water of the shower came down like heavy rain drops on the pale flesh of my back.

.:There was a couple bangs outside my door, thought it was nothing. Moments later, there was a regular bang and a slam. I jumped and nearly slipped in the tub. I knew it was my door so I grabbed the towel and quickly wrapped it around my body, grabbing the pair of scissors. I hid under the nozzle of the shower as the water ran, hitting near the other side of the tub. The door of the bathroom was shoved open, banging into the wall. Someone was coming into the room, pointing something.

.:Shoving back the curtains I saw her, Mary Crowe. She was holding a 9mm barrel pointed at my chest. I recognized it from the pictures I'd been shown. Her smile was so evil, and never said a word. Her red hair was up in curls, wearing tight jeans and a tank top. Original.

.:Before she could pull the trigger I jabbed the scissors into her arm, pushing it away from me as blood oozed from the cut. Her finger had twitched on the trigger and the gunshot, scathing my shoulder. Before Mary could rise I tackled her to the ground and with all my might I pushed her hands away from me. Shots fired in the bathroom and yelling came from my hallway. I looked up and Stevens was holding a gun by the butt, he had shot her at the shoulder. My bathroom floor was a bloody mess, my hands covered in her blood. I could clean it, nothing a little bleach would fix.

.:With a hand outstretched I took his hand and stood by his side. Within what seemed moments, other police arrived and took her in cuffs with the scathed injury. Her eyes glared at me, amber with small pupils. She looked like a reptile, full of anguish, hatred, and fury. I huddled close to Deputy Stevens arm, for fear that my towel my fall and everyone get a sneak peak at my cleavage. There was no way I'd let that happen today or any day.

.:Sergeant Reed came along with a plastered grin on his lips, happy apparently. He told me that they matched the gun to be owned by Miss Crowe and that later, Nathaniel’s guilty conscious set in that he, and her brother and she had murdered Robert and lead the attempt on myself. When I asked why, he told me it was out of blind jealousy. Mary had caught Nathaniel glancing and day dreaming about myself and she was pent on getting revenge. I suppose it didn't work.

.:Now I lay here in the summer heat, two years later sun bathing in Arizona. Richard Stevens, yes the deputy, walked to my side drenched with the exuberant smell of chlorine. His wet trunks clung to his legs for hear life as he lay out a towel by mine. He lay in the same direction as I, turning his face toward me. With a small gesture of his slender head towards mine, his lips stroked against my forehead. They weren't clammy at all, just as soft as velvet.

.:Richard and I are engaged, soon after Daniel, Mary, and Nathaniel were put into jail, he asked me out. A year and a half later, he proposed. We aren't sure when the wedding will be, I'm hoping after last semester when I graduate. He is willingly ready to wait that long, and I love him for that.