Fred Hampton's Blues by Sean E Boye

Author:Sean E Boye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Fiction
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2024-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Terry winced as he brought the cup of the horse blood to his lips and hoped he wouldn’t retch again, before steadying himself to attempt another sip. It reminded him of rotting herring and fruit cordial, if that combination was even possible, and for a few seconds, he lay back on his pallet, trying to recall long cool glasses of sparkling water to mitigate the awful taste, until his mind returned to the unfairness of his present condition again.

Hypocrites!

How many random mortals had Vampires killed for no good reason, over the years?

Probably in their millions, and even though it was supposed to be the Third Law of the Ancients, Never take a mortal life unless to feed, a bit like a Catholic wearing a condom or a Muslim having a sneaky Gin and Tonic, this was largely ignored by the majority of Bloodsuckers. In fact, only recently, he’d heard of a fellow Sister in Blood, who after being told in an overly aggressive manner during the Lockdown to walk around the block to access the last train for the Victoria Line, had spitefully bled a ticket collector around the back of Tottenham Hale tube station, and received nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a £500 fine. While, because he had joined Bane on the other side of the argument, they were throwing, not only, the book, but whole bloody bookshelf at him. Typical Woke bullshit. Get caught wearing a Nazi uniform in your youth or sporting black face in the 1990’s but prostrate yourself before the altar of Critical Race Theory and Gender Ideology and bingo, you are absolved from your sins, but refuse to bend a knee and stick to your principles and you are canceled and sipping horse blood for the rest of your life. “It’s a complete joke,” mumbled Terry bitterly to himself ,and this was even without taking into consideration the blatant treachery of Errol, “his so-called” friend. Now, any road back for the two of them, was, as far as the vampire was concerned, permanently closed. How could he sell him out like that? It was one thing to stand by when he had been ejected from his house in Fulham, although Terry still expected a little more loyalty from an old comrade, but quite another to actively conspire to actually get him nicked. “Fuckhead”, spat out Terry into the fetid air of his Prison Cell while he continued to think unwholesome thoughts about his old house-mate, until finally tiring of his internal rant, his eyes drifted towards the stone floor again. Couldn’t they just text?, he thought as he lit a match and brought an old vellum parchment to his face for another look. Three months, subsisting solely on “Equine Blood” in “Bloodwells”, or the Well of Blood Penitentiary, to give it, it’s formal name, and a year’s banishment from London, his rudimentary grasp of Latin now told him, plus more importantly, an order to stop seeing “The mortal, Lauryn” or face the consequences.

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