Chapter 1: The hunted

My name is Ai Ōnishi. In Japanese, my first name means “love,” and there was a time when I considered mine a story of love. I loved more deeply than conceived in my happiest childhood fantasies. More wholly than I had ever thought possible. At times, the love I felt shamed me, for who was I to be deserving of such a gift? My love was so unyielding that I was willing to forfeit my own life for the promise of eternity with my lover.

With Tomo.

But that was decades ago in a life long abandoned. Now I am known as Mukade, an assassin for the Kuroiwa clan. And I am also one of the kyūketsuki. A being without love. A being without promise. A parasite. A demon.

A vampire.

As I am forsaken by those whose blood still runs warm, I have forsaken that for which they live. I do not pine for sunlit days. I do not yearn for the company of friends and family. I do not long for the embrace of another. My thoughts are only of feeding and survival.

And that is why I am out tonight, perched atop a decaying hotel in a ruined neighborhood. To feed and to survive.

Inside this place rests a man who knows of our clan. It is fortunate that Okāsan discovered his presence early, before he can gather more of his kind. They are the vampire hunters, and they are of a single will—to annihilate the kyūketsuki. If they assemble, our clan might have to move once again. The Kuroiwa clan was driven from Japan years before they found me, and in my time among them, we have been forced to relocate six times. There is always the threat of being unable to find a new safe haven. If I can spare us that risk, I will.

The street below is vacant, for which I am thankful. Individually, men cannot harm me. They lack the speed, the reflexes, and the strength of the kyūketsuki. If a group of them attacks, though, I might be overwhelmed. Better to find them alone and unaware.

Finally, I perceive movement—the presence of life. The thirst begins to grow inside me as I sense the blood pulsating through the hunter’s veins. My tongue traces the points of my teeth. They have grown in anticipation. Faintly, I hear the sound of footsteps grow from inside.

My muscles tense as I prepare to pounce. Many times, I have slipped down in the night, one with the shadows, my teeth plunging into my prey and holding them as their life flows into me. Sometimes, I move so stealthily that they do not have time to realize what has happened to them. Others are not so lucky, and they regard me with terror as I drain them.

There was a time I was as horrified by my feeding as they. That was before I became Mukade.

The hunter has stopped on the stoop. I cannot see him, and my first thought is that I have somehow betrayed myself, and he is ready for me. But then I hear the click of the lighter and smell the lit tobacco. A part of me wants to let him finish this final cigarette before I strike. To give him one last pleasure before his life ends. I know that the two of us do not differ greatly. He hunts vampires for the safety of his kind. I must assassinate him for the survival of mine. My mind is clear again with the sound of his boot on the first step. Kyūketsuki are not allowed the luxury of being sentimental or merciful.

I time my leap so that I will land behind him. His death will come quickly, without fear. I know that he has killed my kind less humanely than this, but mine is not an act of vengeance. I am Mukade, assassin of the Kuroiwa clan, and I only act to survive . . . and to feed.

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Welcome to Kyūketsuki

This blog will tell the story of a vampire who is seeking out her beloved who disappeared soon after transforming her (willingly) into a creature of the night.  Along her journey, she will encounter other creatures—some like herself, some more malevolent.  Ultimately, she hopes to rejoin her love, as she sees this as the only redemption she can possibly find.