Hooh-Strah-Dooh: A World of Vampires

HOOH-STRAH-DOOH

Dani Hoots

A World of Vampires:

Hooh-Strah-Dooh

© 2014 Dani Hoots

© 2020 FoxTales Press

Content Edit by Desiree DeOrto

Final Edit by Justin Boyer

Cover Design Copyright © 2014 by Daniel Somerville

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN for kindle: 978-1-942023-02-9

ISBN for nook: 978-1-942023-03-6

In loving memory of Daniel Somerville

Chapter 1

As I walk the bustling streets of the cities; Boston, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, it doesn’t matter; I am quite intrigued by all the flashing lights, the countless stores and ads telling me what beauty is, what to consume, what not to consume, who I should vote for, the list goes on. Everyone wants your attention, everyone wants your money, it doesn’t seem to matter where you go now, everyone is trying to draw your attention. It’s unbelievable how much has changed in the past eight years, how much the world has suffered, how much everyone suffered, but life never stops. Nothing ever quits.

What really strikes my attention in all of this are the countless ads for stories of vampires. Teen drama, romance, horror; the myth has spread throughout every genre I can imagine. They are everywhere: in bookstores, on the TV, there are clubs and bars with horrific themes that not even I want to attend. Adolescent girls dream of being saved by a brooding creature of the dark in hopes they can spend an eternity with the one they think they love. And maybe, at one point in my life, I believed in the same thing, as I fell in love with Brian MacAuliffe at a mere age of seventeen. But the truth is that there is no happy ending.

And everyday I will live with that fact.

I have been running ever since that day and I will never stop. I can never stop. Not to enjoy life, not to smell the roses, not to enjoy friendship or love. The stories that say life as a vampire is every person’s dream come true is an utter and complete lie. Not only will you suffer, but you will never perish unless you get caught, and believe me, it isn’t pretty.

So I’m writing this to let people out there know the truth about us vampires—to let them know the pain that we must endure and even though we want to end it once and for all, our desire to survive overpowers it. We are created to endure such agony, but nothing is more painful than seeing the years go by and not be able to stop them for a second to enjoy. Life keeps going, and you are stuck in a never-ending loop.

I will agree, being a vampire has its perks, seeing things in a new light, the speed, the energy given when blood trickles down your throat, but none of them have been worth the torture. My story is a cautionary tale for any of those who go looking for people like me. Those who think they can handle it. I can tell you now, at least, you won’t be able to.

It all started on a warm day, just like today. It was mid-July 1931 and the city of Boston was roaring with life. Prohibition was still intact, and many gangs made it their business to smuggle, steal, and sell wherever they could for a quick buck. Robberies, shootings, underground parties; it was all a part of the time, and it was an interesting time.

I was living in the southern part of Boston, where the Irish mob had the most control, both MacAuliffe’s Gang and the Gustin Gang. Until that point, I had nothing to do with the mob. I had only heard the news of robberies, shootings, and of all the speakeasies they were involved with. Most of this I overheard at the market or sometimes from my mother and father, and if any of it hurt them financially or was just inconvenient for them because a road or shop was closed, I of course was to blame.

It wasn’t until my brother, the idiot he was, had gotten himself involved with MacAuliffe’s Gang that my life took a surprising twist. He thought it would be easy money and hoped he could make our parents proud. That didn’t happen. He was always an idiot. And, to make matters even worse, he had stolen from Mister MacAuliffe, thinking he would somehow get away with it.

We hadn’t seen him for almost a week. Either he was dead in some ditch somewhere or the gang leader MacAuliffe had locked him up. Although I hated my older brother, I hoped for the latter. I didn’t need our parents blaming me for his failures, as they usually did.

My father’s belt came down on my arm again. Don’t you dare defy me again, you hear me? You go out and you find my son, you worthless piece of filth! The belt struck me again.

Stop, please! I screamed as he hit my ribs. I will go look for him. I’m just saying I don’t know what I can do to get Mister MacAuliffe to release him. Daniel was stupid to steal from them.

Don’t you dare talk about your brother like that! he yelled as the belt missed my arm and slapped me across the cheek. I felt it slice into my skin. I held back the tears, knowing they would just make matters worse. I hurried out the door before he could hit me again.

And don’t come home until you get him released! Do whatever it takes! he yelled, then slammed the door shut. I glanced back to find our neighbor, Miss Havington, staring at me. I diverted my gaze to my feet, not wanting to show my face to her. I felt ashamed of how weak I was and I didn’t want her to see.

I hurried off towards Mister MacAuliffe’s office.

I loathed to go home empty-handed and didn’t look forward in returning either way. They never gave me any mercy or love, it was like a prison. I should have ran away when I had a chance, but I had nowhere to go and life could be worse if they ended up finding me. My body was already covered in bruises from refusing to search for him the night before. Today’s beating left me even worse.

The heat hammered down on me as I made my way through the busy streets of southern Boston. I held up a dirty, week-old newspaper to shield my face from the sun. I had nothing else, and the temperature was almost unbearable. It had been a while since it was this hot.

I dreaded going down into the area Brian MacAuliffe had his headquarters. Being a young girl of seventeen, it wasn’t one of the safest place to go alone, but I had no choice. Not if I wanted to survive the day.

The walk was long, at least a good four or five mile walk. I had nothing to eat yet that morning since my parents had finally let me out of the closet before making me head out into the horrific day. I had refused to go out the night before and my father wanted to remind me who was in charge of the family, so I spent the night in the closet. If he cared so much about his son, he should have gone looking himself.

This is where my story began. I had arrived to the headquarters of the infamous Brian MacAuliffe, taking a moment to wonder what possessed me to go there in the first place. Brian had a reputation throughout the city of being one of the most ruthless killers, not caring who or what stood in the way of his rising underground empire. Both he and the Gustin Gang ruled these streets in southern Boston together, giving all the other gangs a run for their money.

After taking a deep breath, I stepped towards the simple building that matched every other building on the block. Red bricks, wood, and concrete meshed together by some contractor who had no imagination and just wanted a building there so he could get paid. The only thing that stood out about this building was that it had a different number for the address compared to those around it.

That and the bullet holes.

I entered the building, the door creaking as it swung open. The fans were going, but it didn’t seem to keep out the humid air.