Night has fallen. Inside a military barracks stirring can be detected. Following close behind comes the sounds of scuffling. This is immediately proceeded by the issuing forth of terrified yells just before strangled gurgling can be heard. Silence ensues. Right after, the door is pulled open. There is an outward rush of wind, then silence once more.

The hours pass and darkness begins giving way to light. It is at this point that a smart phone belonging to a Dr. Michaels rings.

"Hello, Gene Michaels speaking."

"This is Jayne Porter," comes the voice on the other end.

"I take it this is not a social call."

"You take it correctly. You are in fact summoned to the Rune base immediately."

"Whatever for?"

"Project New Race has hit a snag."

"How? What happened?"

"You'll find out when you get here."

"All right, I am on my way."

Upon arrival to the secluded base Dr. Michaels is ushered through an open barrack's door by a special forces member. His sense of smell is instantly accosted by the odor of copper pennies, which permeates the air. Clean up is still in progress. Of the remaining bodies, the majority have puncture wounds to their throat region. These have been totally drained of blood. The rest, who are each missing an arm, are untouched. However, the unattached arms all possess bite marks. While Dr. Michaels is observing the carnage, WSA agent Jayne Porter comes up beside him.

"Are they all like this?" Michaels asks.

"Pretty much," she responds.

"This makes me regret even more consenting to be part of this project."

"It was thought you put in controls."

"I did."

"Then what happened?"

"That is what I have got to find out."

"Hold that thought." A special forces member breaks into the conversation.

"What is it, Commander West?" Porter questions.

"Pardon the interruption, but an oddly formed pile of ashes was just reported as having been discovered on a farm not too far from here. It might warrant investigating."

West, Porter and Michaels locate the heap. In its midst they find the tines of a pitchfork. Kneeling down beside the ashes Dr. Michaels takes a sample. "I am going to need the use of my lab."

"No need. The WSA has a fully equipped lab on wheels," Jayne reveals.

"Then let us get to it."

On board the mobile laboratory Dr. Michaels finishes running a DNA analysis. Jayne walks up to Gene's side. "Have you come to any conclusions yet?"

"From the DNA I was able to retrieve, I ascertain that these are indeed the remains of a Novaid."

"Novaid?"

"My word for them."

"Who or what was the cause?"

"You mean other than the obvious?"

"I get it, that whoever those ashes belong to, was staked and set on fire, but I guess what I'm really asking, is what would it take to overpower one of them?"

"According to the government's requirements, more than human effort."

"You were against this project from the start, weren't you?"

"Let us just say I had then, and especially after this incident, continue to have my reservations."

"Yes, I remember quite well the day we met."

"As do I. I was working on another experiment when you burst in."

"If I recall correctly, you were shocked after I plugged my cartridge into your computer port."

"I could not imagine your actions, let alone, the specs I was seeing. That the government actually wanted me to create an urban legend, seemed preposterous."

"And yet you did it. After all, you are a genetic engineer. The WSA and I knew you would find a way."

"But not without cost. Not all of the volunteers survived the treatment, and now despite my best efforts, something has gone terribly wrong."

"Any clue as to why your safeguards failed?"

"Not until I can run some tests."

"How do you expect to do that?"

"Capture one."

"Any suggestions on how?"

"I am leaving that up to you."

As they are speaking, a communication comes over her earpiece.

"That chance may come soon."

"How so?"

"Intelligence has reported that they've found more victims close to a nearby town."

"Then we had better get moving."

Jayne touches Gene on the upper arm. "You know they must be stopped by whatever means necessary."

Gene sadly acknowledges her statement with a soulful nod.

They pull up to a farmhouse. All is quiet. Exiting their vehicles, the remainder of the special forces team meets up with the half all ready on location. Shadows dance and sway as all but the ones left to guard Dr. Michaels move across the yard.


The house's back door is open. They enter, going from room to room with weapons at the ready. In their search they come across the remains of children.


Exiting, they exercise great caution as they work their way to the barn. Commander Jason West and Lieutenant Alex Knight go inside the building. The rest remain at the ready just beyond its walls.


Within they discover the body of a middle aged man not far from a hay fork, with which he apparently tried to defend himself. Near him they find piles of ashes surrounding stakes.

"More of those. Who do suppose is responsible commander?"

"I don't know. Whoever's behind it seems to be on our side."

"Do you think any of them are still around?"

"It's possible. If not, where ever they are, they'll be coming out again soon. Nightfall will be upon us before too long."

When West and Knight venture even further into the dim interior a figure comes at them. Their night vision glasses reveal a male in military fatigues, which are covered in dark stains. They aim their rifles. Both men fire. His body jerks as both bullets hit their target. This causes the other to pause.

"You needn't fear me," he exclaims.

As he maintains his position his body begins healing over the wounds. "I'm Sargeant Hastings. Believe it or not, I'm on your side."

"We're just to take your word on this?" West enquires.

In movements astounding to the eye, Hastings reaches their location and disarms them both in one deft motion. He then returns the weapons. "Does this answer your question?"

"What about the others?"

"Quinn, McCall and I took down the stragglers as they left," he nods in the direction of the piles.

"Where are they now?"

"The others splintered into three groups, each taking a compass point. Quinn followed one, McCall another, and I remained behind waiting on re-enforcement."

"Still, how many of them can there be?" Knight wonders.

"They've turned a third of those encountered, from the base to here."

"If that number keeps up..."

"Then we'll have an army of out of control vampires to battle," West interjects.

"If that happens we'll be caught up in an all out war," Alex realizes.

"We need to go inform the rest," Jason concludes.

The others gather in a semi-circle around Commander West. He swiftly apprises them of the situation.

"So what's the plan? Are we to break up into three groups, or are we to tackle them one at a time?" Knight asks.

"Neither. Though I'd like to avoid doing so, I'll have to call in auxillary strike teams to head for the most likely populated areas in the other two directions. We'll take the straight course."

"What about him?" Corpral Swanson queries, as he flicks his head towards Hastings.

"For now, he's with us."

Arriving at their destination, Hastings takes the lead, with Commander West just behind him. Hastings intensely sniffs the air. "They're spread out."

"That means we'll have to do the same," West concludes.

Leaving Commander West, and those with his detail, Hastings makes a wide arc; circling around the division of Corpral Swanson.

Coming up from behind, and to Swanson's left, a vampire knocks the corpral to the ground. Though he does his best to fight off his attacker he is no match for the other's strength. Swanson feels the monster's icy breath as a pair of fangs bare down on him. As the canines begin to sink in, he finds himself suddenly free of his would be slayer.


As he regains a standing position Swanson witnesses Hastings and his attacker locked in battle. Soon all about him issue forth sounds that would make the bravest person's blood curdle. What he views is even worse.


The opposition, behaving as though they are rabid dogs, rip into security force members, their teeth tearing into human flesh.


Fighting the fear within him, Swanson charges towards the battle scene.

What had begun in near complete darkness is soon illuminated as nearby buildings are quickly awash in light.

Inside the mobile lab Jayne turns from the window and goes to a storage cabinet. Gene watches her in curious anticipation. When she withdraws from it, a movie camera, confusion shows on the doctor's face.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Simple, doctor. It's part of our cover."

"Interesting. It could also provide valuable information."

"The WSA's thinking exactly."

Picking up his satchel, Gene proceeds to follow her out.

"Just what do you think you're doing, doctor?"

"If you are going to be busy with getting video, someone has to get the DNA."

"Very well, then. I don't have the time to argue. Just be careful."

"That is my intention."

Having formed a defensive line, the special forces members stand far enough apart for fighting room, yet close enough together not to allow any of the blood feeders to pass.

Shouldering the camera, Jayne records on the fly. Skirting behind some of the SUVs she heads the group of oncoming civilians.

Gene's direction takes him the opposite way in search of a likely donor. Hypodermic in hand, he homes in on he a teenage girl at the back of the Novaid pack. In one beat of a heart she knocks both syringe and satchel from his hands. The contents of the case spill out all over the ground. Pouncing upon the doctor the teenage vampire pushes him earthward. Trying to hold her off with one arm, Gene reaches out with the other, grappling for anything he might use. Laying his fingers on just such an instrument Dr. Michaels plunges a surgical scalpel into her heart, coinciding with her fangs breaking his skin.

A barrage of silver bullets had kept them at bay, and even brought some of them down. Despite this, they were still strong in number; this being approximately a third of the overall total.

Rolling the Novaid off of him, Dr. Michaels, covered in blood, makes it to his feet. Going about, he begins to collect the scattered items.

"Yes, yes. You can all be extras. Right now, I need everyone back inside for a dramatic ending. Be sure to lock all doors and windows," Jayne directs.

Their bullets depleted, the SF members trade their guns for machetes. The ends of the line begin to curve inward as they advance to enclose a circle around the undead.

Attracted by the scent of blood, another of the Novaids goes after Dr. Michaels. He never reaches his intended victim, for his arms are pinned back by one stronger than he.

"Now's your chance, doctor," Hastings announces.

Having regained the dropped hypodermic, Gene makes to insert it into his unwilling donor. He stops short as he views the horror about to come upon the sargeant. "Steve, behind you!" he cries out.

Hastings, still holding on to his captive, whirls to face the vamp charging for him. Before Steve can even act, this one's neck is severed by a machete. The sargeant gives the corpral a grateful acknowledgement. Steve then turns back to Gene.

"You need to make this quick," Hastings states as he views the sky.

Without hesitation Dr. Michaels secures the necessary DNA.

The SF members are still hacking away at their foes. Whenever they sever a head from a body, the opponent goes down. Otherwise, their wounds go into healing mode. Those of the special forces do not fare as well. Any of them who are not fast enough feel the sharp pointed fangs of the blood drinkers. Their bodies drained, they are then discarded by the once human creatures.


Feeling a sense of urgency, the vampires split up into two groups. Each half circles to the outside perimeter of the SF members, before the team can can completely encircle these denizens of the night. They stood there - a circle within a circle, facing the other. Strewn among them were the bodies of the slain. The vampires poised to attack, the Special Forces members were about to meet their end.

Hastings swiftly despenses with the one he is holding. Dropping him to the ground, Steve takes off, racing away from the battle site.

While each of the remaining force members prepares for their final stand, streaks of light fire across the sky. The undead break off their attack and disperse as the sun shows itself above the horizon. Though weary, the SF members begin to chase after their fleeing adversary.

"Halt," West calls out as he gets back to his conversation on his smart phone. "Same situation here." After listening to response, he is quick to reply. "Understand. Will wait for relief team."

Grimly the survivors begin loading their fallen comrads into body bags. While in the performance of this, fires spark about them. These are ignited as the rays of the sun come in contact with the remains of the Novaids.

Attracted by the goings on, the civilians come forth from their abodes. Jayne intercepts their progress.
"Okay, folks, we're ready for the final scene."

"What do you want us to do?" asks the one acting as their spokesperson.

"Some of you will portray the survivors who have just returned from the battle, while the others will be the ones who greet them in their victorious return."

"But I thought I saw some of them run off," another among them speaks up.

"Well...yes, but that's for a possible sequel."

The crowd nods understandingly.

After separating them off into two groups, Jayne has them face each other. In her positioning of the civilians she makes certain to get each individuals front, back and sides on video. Along with these she takes their names and ages.

"We don't look like we've been in a battle," the acting spokesperson pipes up.

"Yeah, what about make-up?" one of the women chirps.

"That can be done with special effects. Now everyone wait here 'til I can return with your releases."

When Jayne enters the mobile lab, Dr. Michaels and Commander West are in conversation. They stop their dialogue to greet her.

"So what have you found out?" Jayne picks up. "I mean, from the tone I take it you've made a significant discovery."

"As I was telling the commander here, there are two distinct blood types in my sample."

"How is that possible?"

"It seems that blood from a Novaid has gotten inside our donor, and it has mutated into a virus," Gene explains.

"Then it's a good thing that they're of different types, or it might not have been discovered so soon."

"On the contrary, the type is the same. What makes them distinguishable is that due to their genetic structure Novaids carry two more genes than humans. Why their saliva is of no effect, I do not know."

"So how do we stop them?" West desires to learn.

"That I cannot tell you. I only know that if vampires did not exist before, they do now."