Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series)
Read Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series) Online
Authors: Candice Burnett
Caylee’s
Confessions
Candice Burnett
Copyright © 2014 Candice
Burnett
All rights reserved. No
part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or
mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles
or reviews – without written permission from its publisher.
The characters and
events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons,
living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Some
Fun Facts before we Jump in
Every
thirty seconds, seven-hundred-twenty people disappear. That adds up to
approximately 27,397 per day, making a year’s total 10,000,000. Of these
10,000,000, only 500,000 reappear. We see missing people’s pictures on
billboards, postcards, milk cartons, and if the story is especially sad, our
local news. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as you can see from the
numbers
above, most people who go missing are never found, and if it
wasn’t for people like me, the numbers would be double.
I’m
not doing this to spoil anyone’s faith of finding a loved one, but numbers don’t
lie. The only chance they have of finding these lost people, would be if their
loved one is in that lucky percentage of those who are taken by other humans.
If they are taken by the things I hunt, their chances are slim to none.
If
you think about it, there has to be something—or multiple things—that are
taking all of these people. Well, I know who and what it is, but with society’s
recent turn to love, these creatures aren’t supposed to exist, which makes my
task more difficult. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m telling you that
your loved ones were probably taken by an undead. And by ‘undead,’ I mean not
human.
Let
me start you off with the worst of the undead: vampires. Movies depict them as
creatures that are always smitten with humans. They’ve recently been depicted
in stories as those who love humans, and will drink animal blood to survive. The
stories say that they don’t like to kill and that they only take a little of
our human blood to survive. Movies want us to believe that there could be a ‘good
vampire,’ because even though they’re posed as fictional, if they
were
to exist, they wouldn’t kill us. They’ll sweep us off our feet, fall in love,
and maybe even sparkle in the sun. The thought makes me throw up in my mouth a
little bit especially since these are the worst of the creatures I hunt. Trust
me, they have
no
respect for human life, and the only thing they love
about us is our blood and how amazing it tastes as it drizzles down their
throats. To show you how cruel they are, let me bring you back to those
missing people.
Take
a good look at who are the people that are missing. What do they have in
common? You never see Grandma or Grandpa on a milk carton; you see mostly
children. Why, you might ask? It’s because, to them, the blood is more pure.
They don’t care that this person has only lived seven years; they just care
that one: they are the easiest to catch; and second, but most important: they
have what they call the “purest blood.” At these young ages, the blood is the
purest, because it is just developing, making it mostly free of diseases and untainted
by drugs or alcohol.
If
you are ever taken by a vampire, you’re lucky if they take your life right
away. The more cruel ones will save you for years, using you as a blood slave,
until your soul crumbles and finally gives up.
Why
one would ever want to become one of them makes me sick to my stomach. It’s mind
boggling, when I walk around the mall and see these young girls and boys
wearing shirts that say ‘bite me.’ Ha, if they only knew the truth. The truth
being that, not only going along with the torture and death that would come
from being bitten and drained of your blood, you do not change into a vampire
by merely being bitten. No, you only become one if the vampire exchanges their
blood back to you.
A
vampire will bite a human for one of two reasons: One: they want a slave, for
whoever changed you is now your master; or, two: they need bodies to sacrifice
in their war for power. For neither reason would any sane person want to
sacrifice their human life. Most vamps have so little regard for human life
that they don’t change anyone, because they feel no human deserves to be like
them. So please, kids, enough with the ‘bite me’ shirts.
In
fact, the only species I hunt that would change from a simple bite would be a
werewolf. However, don’t get your hopes up, people; this is no experience you’ll
ever want to try and endeavor, because, simply put, there is almost no chance
of you surviving this ordeal. When werewolves hunt, they not only need the
blood of humans, but the meat as well. They basically tear their prey to
shreds in seconds, ripping limps, and sucking the blood that drains from them.
They leave nothing behind, unless, maybe an eyeball or a finger falls out of
their mouths while they’re consuming you.
However,
there
is
that one-in-a-million chance that, after you were bitten, you
got away, but being a werewolf is no pleasant ordeal. You become a part of
their family, which is a very strict society that is almost impossible to
escape. You will always be hungry, and you will have no control over your
emotions or feelings on the night of a full moon.
Werewolves
are the only creatures I remotely feel sorry for, because of their limited self-control
on a full moon. I still kill them though, because they don’t only feed on a
full moon. It is most difficult to kill them on these nights, because they are
at their full strength. The kill can still be done, but it takes a lot of
practice. Unlike vamps, they don’t usually pry on children, because frankly,
they don’t have enough meat yet.
The
last, and least likely, undead creatures I hunt, I call the non-consumers.
These are the shape shifters, witches, and fairies that I sometimes come
across. I’ve actually only killed a few of each of these. I refer to them as
the non-consumers, because they don’t actually have to consume human blood for
their existence. That doesn’t mean that they don’t…it’s just that, unlike
vamps and werewolves, they don’t have to in order to survive.
Occasionally
though, I have caught shape shifters feeding on humans, merely for the thrill
of the hunt. Just like you would see a cat torture and leave a dead mouse’s
body behind. These shape shifters usually work for, or run with, vamps.
Witches,
on the other hand, don’t feed on humans at all, but I have caught them using
human blood and limbs for their potions. This rarely happens, because they can
use animals to serve that same purpose. The ones that use humans for their
potions work for, or run with, vampires, like the shape shifters.
As
far as fairies, I’ll be honest, I’ve seen them twice and I’ve killed two. I
only did it because they were with vamps and were trying to kill me. I don’t
really know much about them.
Now
that I’ve educated you briefly on the undead that I despise, I not only hope
you refrain from wearing a “bite me” shirt, but honestly, I need your help in
my battle with these creatures. I’m hoping that, after hearing a brief history
on me and the past year of my life, you will be able to help me with my quest.
I’ve given to you, in this journal, as much straight, to-the-point information
as I possibly could, in the amount of time that I could afford. I’m asking for
help, because I can no longer do it alone. Things have happened where this is
no longer possible. I hope whoever finds my scribbles will find the strength
and knowledge to join the effort.
The Beginning
So
I guess, to really help me, we should start with how I got into all of this. I
wish I could say for vengeance or revenge—that a vampire had hurt my family—but
hey, that would be a lie, and we must learn to trust one another. Here’s the
truth: I started all of this for the same reason that most 18-year-old girls do
something crazy for…a boy. Here I was, fresh into college, without many
friends, and no family. He had a really cute face with a hockey butt to match,
but we’ll get back to him later. For now, we’ll hit the “no family” part.
I
had lost my parents when I was young, and by “lost” I mean: my dad ran off, and
my mother followed suit when I was about nine. Not really a biggie to me, from
what I can remember; I didn’t like her much anyway. I always recall wanting to
stay at Grandma’s, and at nine, I got my wish. My grandma was a gambling,
loud, moonshine-drinking hell of a woman. She always told you exactly what was
on her mind, and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her.
She
had lost my grandpa, the only man she’d ever loved, right after she had my
mom. We didn’t talk much about him, because it seemed to be the only thing that
could bring her to tears. Like myself, Grandma didn’t like my mother much.
She would always say how opposite they were: my mother was a “no backboned” woman
that couldn’t even spell responsibility, and all she ever cared about was
herself.
Looking
back, I would have to agree, especially since the reason she had left me at age
nine was because she’d met a rich man. This man wanted to start a family, but
couldn’t see himself dating a woman with kids, which was perfect because she
didn’t let him know she had one. She dumped me, so she could live happily ever
after.
My
grandmother said the only good thing my mother ever gave me was her looks. I
guess she also had strawberry-blond hair, pale skin, and light-colored freckles.
Our only differences, my grandmother had said, was my height, since I’m 5’6”
and she was 5’1”, and our eyes—my mother’s were brown, like mud, while mine are
a light, turquoise-blue.
Whatever,
though—I had no grief over it; I loved living with my grandmother. You never
knew what would come out of her mouth, which made each day a thrill. She was
also extremely random, to the point that one day we just went to the airport
and she let me pick out which plane I wanted on the screen, and that’s the one
we flew in. I loved her like a mom and was sad the day old age took her away
from me. It was a week before I left for college. So here I was: eighteen, a
freshman in college, with no family and no friends, since my grandmother
insisted on homeschooling me.
This
brings me back to the
boy
. Kevin was his name; he was twenty-one and a
senior, finishing up his elective courses. He stood six-foot-three, with baby-blue
eyes, tan olive skin, and dirty-blond hair, styled like a hockey player. His
hair lay just below his ears and was a tangled, loose-curl mess. I was lucky
enough to snatch up the seat next to him on the first day of class. It was a
business communications class, which required a lot of group projects. Since
we sat next to each other that made us partners. It didn’t take long for us to
become a couple, probably because I basically worshiped the ground he walked
on. He was the first boy that really gave me attention. I remember the day he
asked me to be his girlfriend. I thought it was the best day of my life.
It
also happened to be the day that he introduced me to his ‘extracurricular
activities.’ We had been talking for about a month, and to be honest, I hadn’t
really listened to anything he had said; I was too busy looking at his face. So
it came as a shock when he brought me to this meeting where everyone dressed in
black. We were the only ones in, what I thought to be, normal dress.
Kevin
introduced me to his four ‘friends’: Stacy, who had short, blond hair and the
body of a twig; Scott, who also had blond hair but was built heavy, like a
wrestler; Alice, who was tall, with a solid frame, and had dark, hazel eyes; and
Carrie, who was short and a twig, like Stacy, but with black hair.
They
all seemed to be as interested as Kevin in these paranormal fiction books.
They would rant about vampires, witches, werewolves—you name it—and they
basically covered the whole fantasy world. That was all we ever talked about
really. Actually, that’s what
they
talked about. Kevin would take me
to, what I thought to be, ‘book club meetings’ once a week. I would have
rather been humping, since I had just recently discovered how enjoyable it was,
thanks to him, but he insisted we go to these meetings. He said that once his
friends trusted me, it would be so much better and I would enjoy the meetings
more. Two months into attending these book club things, Alice finally talked
directly to me.
“Caylee,
it is this group’s decision to let you into our true circle. Do you want to
become part of our fighting alliance, for if you do, you can never go back, and
we will become your only friends and family? If you become a part of this,
what we discuss and do never leaves the six of us. You will be bound by life
or death to hold this bond, for what we discuss, will help our race so that
they cannot bring us down. Do you want to join?”
I
was slightly confused and weirded out. How intense were these book discussions
that we couldn’t talk about them outside of the group? But, whatever, if it
made Kevin happy and his friends would trust me, I guess I would agree.
“Uhh,
yes,” I replied, and they all smiled and took a deep breath.
“Thank
god,” Stacy said. “I’m so sick of talking in code.”
“Huh?”
I asked. And for the next half-hour I was enlightened by them on how this wasn’t
a book club I had been attending, that the science-fiction things they talked
about were real, and they hunted them. I stared in shock, probably with my
mouth open, and started laughing hysterically.
“Yeah,
nice joke, guys, you got me…is book club over now?” I asked. I really wanted
to get back to my dorm, where Kevin and I would be alone.
“They’re
not kidding, Caylee. I know it’s hard to process—I thought the same thing—but
tonight we’ll show you,” Kevin said.
