Blood of Legends and the Virus Called Humanity: Book One in the Blood of Legends Vampire Apocalypse Series

By Ryan Stabile

When a terrorist bio-weapon strikes a clandestine cloning facility, genetically engineered historical figures come back from the dead - Hungry for blood!

• Will infamous mob boss Lucky Luciano stand a chance against the vampire apocalypse?
• Will the fearsome Blackbeard the Pirate ever sail the seven seas again?
• Will homicidal feminist Valerie Solanas fight her way to the top?
• Will legendary ninja master Hattori Hanzo rescue the love of his life from unspeakable horror?

Set in a post-apocalyptic, dystopian future where surprises lurk around every corner and you never know who you'll run into - friend, food, or historical figure turned vampire. With steamy vampire romance, riveting fight scenes & guest appearances from the most unlikely of heroes, book one in the Blood of Legends series combines dystopian sci-fi with historical fiction in a series that fans of new and old vampire fiction will adore.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Words Are Swords Publishing
• Release date: Feb 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9791221303155

Book preview

Blood of Legends

And the Virus Called Humanity

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By Ryan Stable

Words Are Swords Publishing

Copyright © 2020 by Ryan Stable. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. The names of people and places performed are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons and actual activities, including those whom may share the same name, are entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America by Words Are Swords Publishing, a subsidiary of ULTRA VULGAR MEDIA, LLC, California.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, scanned, photocopied, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author or publisher, with the exception of brief passages used for review.

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Blood of Legends and the Virus Called Humanity

First Edition.

Also by Ryan Stabile

Blood of Legends Vampire Science Fiction Series

Blood of Legends and the Virus Called Humanity

Standalone

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Ryan Stabile

Dedication

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About the Author

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Also By Ryan Stabile

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all aspiring authors everywhere.

No matter what, keep writing.

1

Six feet floated gracefully across the soft, virginal snow with all of the thoughtful delicacy of a ballet dancer. Three stiff necks supported three heads, all of which had been shaved, making each individual scar nearly as prominent as the bloodstains which decorated their every article of clothing like a painter after finishing his masterpiece. Six eyes, all the same shade of sickly yellow, locked their gaze on the luminescent city lights in the distant darkness as if it were an oasis and they, travelers weary with thirst.

These were not dancers; they were death-bringers. They were not painters; they were pillagers. They were not travelers; they were terrifying visions of unspeakable nightmares, although they were weary with thirst and intended to turn the city in their sights into their own personal oasis.

The stealthy trek of the three creatures brought them from the surrounding foothills, all the way to the very base of the city, where they skulked through the shadowy side streets and alleyways. Had any citizen of the bustling metropolis happened to be taking a moonlit stroll and caught a glimpse of them, all that they would have seen was a trio of tall, malnourished vagrants, each clad in dark furs and leather. They would do anything possible in order to not make eye contact with the presumed homeless and the pace of their midnight walk would gain just a little more momentum. In varying amount, this indifference existed in each and every townsperson, and their individual lack of compassion for their fellow man would inevitably lead to their downfall.

From the icy foothills that surrounded the city like natural castle walls, many pairs of eyes looked out into the pre-dawn horizon and watched as smoke billowed from the city’s factories, twisting forever upward until the black smoke merged with the black night sky.

The city itself remained quite brightly lit, especially throughout the night. While electricity was certainly not taken for granted, the townspeople slaved away tirelessly to ensure that they had, among other things, a surplus of power so that everything in town could function properly. Not every city still had access to electricity after The Great Mistake, especially in places where the weather was as inhospitable as where they lived, so they treated it as a bit of a luxury.

Through the eyes of someone setting foot in the city for the very first time it must have seemed like less of a civilization and more of a ghost town. The way residents were so industrious that it was a rare occasion for any of them to leave the factories where work is mandatory by city decree, except for home to get a few hours of sleep in between shifts. A new face in town would be hard pressed finding anyone to speak with, let alone a citizen with enough free time to speak to a new face. Anyone just passing through the town might stand a better chance getting conversation out of the noisy gears and rusting cogs which have been operating most of the city’s machinery for many years now. To the workers of the city, a new face is not even worth a second glace.

Hard at work, the townspeople were constantly struggling to keep up with the rising demand for, not only their personal electricity consumption, but the refined electronics and array of detailed circuitry that the city made a small fortune by exporting. Though many had to work through the night, no one heard the six feet that clomped through the snow, abandoning stealth altogether. They did not notice the three pallid heads full of scars or the bloodstained clothes. But all of them looked into those sick, yellow eyes as claws and fangs tore the flesh from every limb and devoured organs while they gasped for help to their co-workers, to their friends, to their families; all of whom were running for their own lives.

All, except one.

Take it all! Just everything and leave! The prey desperately negotiated with its predator.

Coincidentally, this was the same sage advice that he gave to his young and vibrantly green-eyed girl daughter just moments ago.

It started with just the three, clawing and biting at the assiduously distracted citizens one by one. Under the cover of night, the creatures pulled them into the shadows and away from public eye. Soon there were three groups of three stalking the perimeter of the glowing city like vultures circling their victims before going in for the kill. Before people in the icy depths of the town even knew about the invader’s presence, there were thirty of the fiends upon them all at once. Though the workers vastly outnumbered their assailants, the shovels and soldering irons they wielded might as well have been snowballs.

Any other night might have been filled with the resonating low hum of electricity currents running back and forth throughout the city. On this night, screams of terror and pleas for mercy coupled by the splintering sound of doors getting kicked in and glass shattering became an orchestra for the homicidal intruders as they forced their way into the homes of the innocent by any means necessary.

Iris! Her father called to her, feebly. Take everything and leave.

The aging man tossed his daughter a bulbous, black fabric backpack. She caught it, silently slid one strap over her right shoulder, and then embraced her father tightly in a hug. When her bright green eyes began to water up in the corners, she shut them tight, at which point the tears began streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. She opened her mouth and felt the words, I love you, get stuck in her throat. Then, at the same time she cleared her throat, they had arrived. Forcefully pounding at the wooden door, over and over again, she was interrupted before she could get her the words out.

Paralyzed by fear and shock, she couldn’t process any thoughts besides the orders her father had given her echoing in her head. Just as she slid out the back door with the backpack in hand, she heard the splintering rip of their front door being torn apart followed by the frightening thud it made when falling somewhere in her living room.

Those piercing green eyes never looked back; instead, they focused on the arctic wilderness on the horizon. She could hardly see where she was going in the gray light, but it didn’t matter.

She ran faster.

The agonizing screams of her friends and family fading into a gurgling silence echoed in her head. With legs and lungs burning, she continued a grueling, mindless sprint with no destination. But she had to keep looking forward.

She ran faster.

The sound of her pursuer’s footsteps on the crunchy snow behind her did nothing to slow her down. Six feet, she discerned, listening carefully while trying to ignore the distant shrieks of the damned.

She ran faster.

After cresting the first hill, she was forced to slow down while running down the back of the steep foothill and nearly toppled over. When she reached the outskirts of a thick, ice-covered maze of evergreens, she turned around for just a moment, praying her pursuers had vanished so that she could finally catch her breath.

Then she collapsed.

She could not control her breathing. She could not control her legs. She could not control her mind from conjuring up those wicked imaged of everyone she has ever known and loved mangled and lifeless. She felt like a helpless child.

There was no time for helplessness