Hours later, the modest home of a simple villager had been turned into a makeshift battle hospital.
Doctor Sebastian Garcia listened to the patient’s heart with a stethoscope. The beats were slow and feint.
“We’re losing him,” the doctor said.
“Unacceptable,” Colonel Arroyo said. “The General is so loved by the people that our heads will be on pikes if he doesn’t live.”
“He has lost too much blood,” Doctor Garcia replied. “There is nothing I can do.”
The front door creaked open and an alluring woman emerged. She was dressed all in black with hair to match. Her eyes were stunning, her lips were red and full and a subtle beauty mark graced the lower part of her right cheek.
The Colonel turned his head toward the woman. “Leave, wench! You have no business here.”
“You will leave me alone with the general,” the woman cooed in a soft, sultry voice.
“Senorita,” the doctor said. “This is not a time for games. This is an important man and he is very ill.”
The woman’s eyes turned blank and blood red. She looked at both men intently, then slowly repeated, “You will leave me alone with the general.”
“Bien,” the doctor said as he walked out the door. “I suppose every man deserve’s a pretty woman’s company in his final moments.”
“Bahh,” Arroyo said as he joined the doctor. “Let’s leave them be. I need a drink.”
The door slammed shut. The woman’s eyes returned to normal as she stepped closer to the patient.
Santa Anna shivered and gritted his teeth as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
“Shhh,” the woman said as she ran her fingers through the general’s long, black hair. “All is well now, mi amor.”
The general’s hand twitched. The woman reached down and took it into hers. “Do you know my name?”
No response.
“Mi nombre es Legion,” the woman said. “Porque somos muchos.”
The woman rubbed her thumb up and down the back of Santa Anna’s hand. “But I suppose ‘Legion’ isn’t a very pretty name so you may call me Isadora.”
Isadora pressed her lips up against Santa Anna’s forehead and kissed.
“I have been following your career with great interest, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna,” Isadora said. “In my many years, I have never seen a man so willing to risk his life for his country.”
Santa Anna winced with pain. Doctor Garcia had cut away the chunks of flesh and bone, cleaned the wound and dressed it, but blood continued to pour out of it and stain the white bed linen.
“Do you do it for honor?” Isadora asked.
No answer.
“For country?”
No answer.
Isadora’s right eyebrow raised. “Do you do it for glory?”
No answer.
“I can work with glory.”
Isadora opened her mouth and two pointy fangs popped out.
“Fear not, novio,” Isadora said as she drew her mouth close to Santa Anna’s neck. “This will not hurt at all compared to what you have been through already.”
The vampire chomped at the patient’s throat, then sucked on his blood, feeding herself until the general was drained.
Santa Anna murmured one last “ungh” just before his heart stopped.
Isadora bit into her wrist, opening up two holes through, causing drops of blood to flow out.
The she-vamp pressed her wrist up against Santa Anna’s lips.
“Feed.”
Santa Anna remained a still, lifeless corpse.
“Feed, mi amor,” Isadora said.
Nothing.
“Feed and all of Mexico will be yours.”
Like a wild animal, Santa Anna emitted a guttural roar. He sprang up in bed. His eyes turned red. A pair of fangs popped out of his mouth. Instinctively, he used them to cut into Isadora’s wrist.
A primal thirst had taken control of the general. He quenched it with Isadora’s blood.
She was a willing donor. As she watched her new plaything nourish himself, she could not help but laugh.
Bookshelf Battle 