A Vampire Odyssey: Crimson Encounters

Chapter One

Music filled the car’s interior, blocking out the world beyond the tinted windows. I slouched in the back seat, lazily scrolling through my playlist. The driver, Manong Ruel, was focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Ma’am Laisha,” he said cautiously, as if bracing himself.

“Yes?” I replied, half-distracted as I adjusted my headphones.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you at the mall?”

I sighed, already bored of the conversation. “Manong, I’m just shopping for school supplies. I think I can manage without a bodyguard hovering around.”

“Your mom specifically said—”

“I know, I know. ‘Keep an eye on her, Ruel. She’s reckless,’” I interrupted, mimicking my mom’s no-nonsense tone. “Relax. I’ll be fine.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he wisely decided against it.

The car continued its smooth journey through the city streets. The world outside blurred into a mix of buildings and pedestrians as I zoned out to the beat of my favorite song. But then, a strange pressure in my lower abdomen snapped me out of my trance.

Oh no.

I needed to pee. And not just the oh, I can hold it for a while kind. This was an emergency.

I sat up straighter, scanning the area outside. My eyes landed on a narrow alley just a short distance ahead. A group of men loitered at its mouth, their silhouettes standing out against the bright sunlight.

There were only two possibilities: they were either bored and hanging out—or, much more excitingly, there was trouble brewing.

Trouble? Now that had my attention.

A grin tugged at my lips as I imagined the possibilities. My day was about to get interesting.

“Manong,” I called out, leaning forward.

“Yes, Ma’am?” he asked, stealing a quick glance at me through the mirror.

“Stop the car. I need to get out.”

“What? Why?” he asked, his confusion apparent.

“Just pull over, please! I really need to go!” I insisted.

Without waiting for his approval, I unbuckled my seatbelt and subtly retrieved the pistol from the side compartment. All of our cars were equipped with gun holders, thanks to my parents’ paranoia about the dangers of the business world.

“Ma’am, I really don’t think this is a good idea—”

Before he could finish, I opened the car door and jumped out. The sudden stop as he hit the brakes nearly made me stumble, but I landed on my feet.

“Wait! Ma’am Laisha!” he called after me, but I was already making my way toward the alley.

“Don’t even think about following me!” I shouted over my shoulder, my grin widening. Manong’s protests faded as I broke into a light jog.

The alley smelled like a mix of damp concrete and rotting garbage. Charming. I wrinkled my nose but kept going until I found a large dumpster to hide behind. Peeking around the corner, I got a better look at the group of men.

There were ten of them, all wearing black tank tops and sporting tattoos that snaked across their arms and necks. Their bulky frames and aggressive postures screamed troublemakers. They carried heavy metal pipes and wooden planks, their laughter echoing ominously off the alley walls.

This wasn’t some casual hangout.

A more sensible person would have turned and run in the opposite direction. But me? Oh no, this was the thrill I’d been waiting for.

My heart raced as I watched them from my hiding spot. They were clustered around someone—probably some poor soul who’d gotten on their bad side. My curiosity burned as I edged closer, keeping low behind the dumpster.

“Hey, kid,” one of the men growled, his voice dripping with mockery. He wore a red bandana tied around his head, making him stand out as the leader. “Still breathing? Impressive.”

The others laughed, the sound dark and menacing.

“Budong, grab those two-by-fours from the shed. Move it!” Red Bandana barked at one of his lackeys.

The guy, who looked like he’d just crawled out of a bad hangover, nodded and scurried off with a few others. I took the opportunity to sneak a better look at their victim.

And oh, what a sight it was.

He was kneeling on the ground, his pale skin a stark contrast to the blood staining his shirt. Bruises marred his face, and his dark hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. Despite his battered appearance, there was something striking about him. His eyes, dark and defiant, burned with a quiet fury.

Whoever he was, he wasn’t a coward.

I bit my lip, torn between stepping in and staying hidden. Sure, I had the pistol, but I wasn’t exactly an action hero. I was more comfortable in verbal catfights than physical altercations.

The men returned with wooden planks, swinging them experimentally. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and dangerous. If I didn’t act soon, things would take a turn for the worse.

But first, I needed reinforcements—or at least a distraction.

I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed Butler Ren.

“Yo, what’s up?” his cheerful voice answered.

“Ren, I need my car. Track my location and bring it here. Fast,” I said in a hushed tone.

“Wait, what? Where are you? What are you—”

“Just do it! Thanks, love you, bye!” I hung up before he could protest.

I slipped away from the alley, keeping an eye on the group as I moved to a safer spot to wait for Ren.

A few minutes later, the sleek white BMW 8 Series pulled up. It was an early birthday gift from my dad, and it gleamed like a beacon of luxury.

Ren rolled down the window, his face a mixture of confusion and concern. “Laisha, what the hell is going on?”

“No time to explain. Get out,” I said, motioning for him to move.

“What? Why—”

“Just get out! I’ll handle it from here.”

After a brief standoff, Ren reluctantly stepped out of the car. I handed him some cash and flagged down a passing taxi for him. Once he was gone, I climbed into the driver’s seat, my heart pounding with excitement.

Now, it was time to deal with those thugs.

As the car idled, I double-checked the pistol’s magazine.

Empty.

“Oh, come on,” I muttered, slamming the clip back into the gun. Of course, it was just for show—a precaution my family insisted on. They never bothered to ensure I actually carried ammunition. Typical.

I tossed the pistol onto the passenger seat. If I couldn’t rely on firepower, I’d have to lean on my wit and sheer audacity. I grabbed a small first-aid kit from the glove compartment before stepping out of the car, the warm midday sun beating down on me.

The alley loomed ahead, a dim corridor of shadows and tension. My pulse quickened as I approached. The thugs were still gathered around their victim, now armed with the wooden planks they’d fetched earlier. Their laughter grated on my nerves.

This wasn’t just chaos—it was cruelty.

I stopped just short of the group and cleared my throat loudly.

The laughter died instantly. Heads turned in my direction, their faces twisting into expressions of confusion and annoyance.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” I said brightly, planting my hands on my hips. “Having fun?”

Their leader—Red Bandana—stepped forward, his lip curling into a sneer. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“Oh, just your friendly neighborhood busybody,” I replied, smiling sweetly. “I couldn’t help but notice your little... gathering. Mind telling me what this is all about?”

“None of your damn business,” he growled.

I tilted my head, pretending to consider his words. “Hmm, see, I’d agree with you, but the guy you’re beating to a pulp might have a different opinion.” I motioned toward their victim, who was slumped on the ground, his head bowed.

Red Bandana’s sneer deepened. “Listen, little girl, why don’t you turn around and walk away before you get hurt?”

“Oh, I’d love to, but here’s the thing—” I pulled out my phone and held it up. “I’ve got all of this on video, and I’m pretty sure the police would be very interested in seeing what you’re up to.”

That did it. The thugs exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence wavering.

“You’re bluffing,” one of them muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t we find out?” I tapped my phone screen dramatically, as if starting a call. “Hello, Chief? Yes, I’ve found them. A group of violent offenders causing trouble in St. Perial. They’re armed and—”

“s**t!” Red Bandana barked, his face contorting in panic. “Scatter!”

The group bolted, their weapons clattering to the ground as they disappeared into the maze of alleys.

I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by how easy it was. “That’s it? Seriously?”

A laugh bubbled out of me as I bent over, clutching my stomach. It felt so good to finally let it out. I didn’t even notice the young man—Boy Gluta, as I’d mentally nicknamed him—until he coughed weakly.

Right. The actual victim.

I approached him cautiously, crouching to get a better look at his injuries. “Hey, you still with me?”

He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. They were striking—so deep they seemed to hold secrets I couldn’t begin to comprehend. Despite his beaten state, there was a sharpness in his gaze that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” he muttered hoarsely.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He tried to push himself to his feet but winced, his body trembling from the effort. Without thinking, I slid an arm under his and helped him up. He didn’t protest, though his jaw tightened as he leaned on me for support.

“My car’s nearby,” I said, guiding him toward the street.

By the time we reached the BMW, sweat was trickling down my temple. Helping a half-conscious, six-foot-something guy into a car wasn’t exactly easy. He sank into the passenger seat with a groan, his head resting against the window.

I grabbed the first-aid kit and set to work, my movements brisk but careful. His injuries were worse up close—cuts and bruises covered his face, and his lip was split. Dried blood clung to his shirt, and his knuckles were raw, evidence that he’d put up a fight.

“This might sting,” I warned, dabbing at a particularly nasty cut on his temple.

He didn’t flinch, his expression stoic.

“Do you always play hero, or was today an exception?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Hero?” I snorted. “Let’s not get carried away. I just hate bullies.”

He studied me for a moment, his gaze lingering on my face. “You’re... strange.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly.

As I worked, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his pale skin and the crimson streaks of blood. His features were sharp and angular, almost too perfect to be real. If he weren’t half-dead, I’d have assumed he was a model.

“Why were they after you?” I asked, breaking the quiet.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he said simply.

“Sounds like my kind of luck.”

For a moment, I thought I saw the corner of his mouth lift, but it was gone too quickly to be sure.

After tending to his injuries, I leaned back and sighed. “There. You’re all patched up. You can thank me now.”

But when I turned to look at him, the passenger seat was empty.

“What the—?” I whipped my head around, scanning the street.

Sure enough, there he was, disappearing into a sleek black van that had pulled up without me noticing.

“Hey!” I shouted, but the van sped off before I could do anything.

I stood there, dumbfounded and mildly offended. “Not even a thank you?”

Shaking my head, I climbed back into the car and checked the time. It was almost noon. I still had errands to run, and my mom would kill me if I came home empty-handed.

But as I drove off, I couldn’t shake the feeling that that guy was more than just a random victim.

And somehow, I knew our paths would cross again.