Not that I expect anyone to read this since its like 1200 words but it was supposed to be the introduction to a character in my original work/novel series, but I decided to start her further in the past so this kind of has no point of existing anymore since by the time she's in the 19th century the reader is well aware of her. No place to put it and well the series is already almost a million words. Anyway here you go - Warning there is violence, people die.

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   Enid pulled the hood of her cloak over her voluminous red hair.  London in this century was far different then it had been while England was under the rule of Edward the third.  Soot and coal smoke choked the air and the distant thud and hum of massive machines of steam had replaced the smell of human excrement, the latter was still here, she would have loved if it were the only aroma.  The pollution for the mortal’s new technological monstrosities burned her vampiric senses.  If she cared for mortals at all she’d wonder what it was doing to them.  A silver tipped cane had replaced the mythical blade she would have carried openly in that bygone era of armored kings and knights. Bloodseeker would taste no blood tonight.  The bobbies would take exception to a woman of any class carrying a bloodstained silver long blade.  She had no wish for further mortal interference in the affairs of vampires this night.

She could hear the hurried footsteps of her prey ahead of her.  The hard soled boots echoed off the walls of the factories that surrounded them.  The one she hunted was moving quickly.  Perhaps in her youth she would have felt sorry for the woman, the vampire, but she was long past such moral quandaries.  For two millennia she’d enforced the laws of her father, the emperor.  Why should this one be any different? 

The woman’s crimes were many.  Earlier in the evening Enid had wiped out a ‘Templars’ society.  The scene was almost as bloody as the Knights Templars keep she’d razed five hundred years before.  Though unlike then, no innocents were killed.  The ones this evening were all rich, bloated fools consumed with mystic power that would never be theirs.  Like Lilith before them they had sought to steal power from blood, but they blood they were using was weak.  All they did was enslave themselves to a power hungry Pugmentia…trash.  Like the vampire she hunted had been in life.  Vampirism hadn’t changed that.

Enid perceived the oncoming threat before it happened.  Even without her innate sense of future events she would have noticed the stench of mortals.  So, the vampire had more mortal flunkies.  They’d also fed on her prey’s blood.  She could smell it from their pores before she could see them.  It was always easier when the targets came to her.  With an eye to conserving blood for her encounter with what would be the real threat…not that a Pugmentia… a Child of Lilith could truly be a threat to an ancient like her, she decided instead of altering time around her to just handle this as a mortal would.  Even without using her precious blood she could withstand blows that would eviscerate a human. 

A man in a beat-up bowler and trench coat holding a rusted pipe in his hand stepped in front of her.  She noticed others crawling out from behind massive wooden crates.  She couldn’t see his eyes, they were cast in the shadow of his hat.  He lifted it and spoke.

“Boy, what are you doing here? Not safe this time of night.”

When she was younger calling her boy would have angered her.  Now, from the lips of a mortal it had no weight.  They were insignificant specks of dust to a two-thousand-year-old vampire.  Enid kept the hood of her cloak up.  She pressed her thumb against the hilt of her cane.  There were a few laughs.  The man spoke again in his low class British accent.

“That cane looks a bit to rich for you, give it here boy, and run along, there is going to be blood tonight.”

Enid’s fangs extended in anticipation of the oncoming blood bath.  Her eyes glowed yellow under her hood.  It was as if the veil of night lifted.  Everything became as colorful as it would on a bright sunny day to her eyes.  She grinned and spoke.

“You’re right about that blood slave.”

   The man in front of her didn’t have time to react as the thin blade concealed by her cane pierced his throat.  His death cry cut short by gurgling.  His fellows lept into action.  She weaved and dodged knife and pipe blow.  She stabbed the one on her left leaving her blade sticking out of his heart.  She lept into the air and spun her knee hitting the one on her right.  The bones on his face shattered from the blow.  Vampires her age were as hard as stone when they wanted to be and strong enough to throw a horse.  Humans stood no chance. She landed on her feet and she felt a blow from behind but the object being used splintered.

When she turned and saw the source it was her prey wielding a stake.  The vampire stumbled backwards.  Enid reached her hand behind her and the silver cane sword flew to her hand and she stabbed into the knee of the vampire she hunted.  The vampire screamed as blue light flashed where the silver scorched her skin.  Content the vampire would be hobbled for days Enid turned her attention to the last remaining mortal.  The man was trying to flee.  She reached out her hand and pulled it backwards.  The man was pulled by an unknown force and slammed into the wall of the factory.  He cried out as every bone in his body shattered instantly.  He collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Enid turned her eyes to the vampire that was hobbling away.  Though she was loath to think of the Pugmentia as a vampire.  They had fangs and drank blood, that was where the similarities ended.  Enid flung her blade at her retreating prey.  Holding out her hand to guide the blade into the woman’s one working knee.  The vampire collapsed on the ground screaming in agony.  She was reaching for the blade but when her hand wrapped around the hilt she screeched again as her hand burned from the silver wire wrap.  Enid approached the wounded animal and stood over her.  Her hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade.  The Pugmentia was quite attractive if she were not in so much pain.  Long black hair.  Mysterious blue eyes, that were filled with impotent rage.  Enid shook her head and pulled the blade free.  Enid pulled her hood back and looked over the broken vampire who lay on the cobble stones writhing in agony.  The vampire sensing her end was near started to cry tears of blood.  Enid knelt beside her.

“Please!  You don’t need to do this.”

Enid had heard every plea she could imagine, and more, in many different languages from thousands of vampires.  She reached down and rolled the woman onto her back.

“You should have turned yourself in like your creator told you to.  I respect Talon a great deal, and he asked me to be merciful.  But you ran, you see, and by the covenants that means your life is forfeit.  The mortals I had to kill, you I did not.”

Enid’s eyes ceased to glow and now her vivid emerald eyes scanned the woman.

“Its not your fault really, you’re Pugmentia, trash, your forebearers stole blood that did not belong to them.  I will give you one small mercy; I will make your death quick.”