Evolution

The only thing worse than dying is never having it as an option. The Tarimain, the immortal soldiers of God, tasked with fighting on the front lines of the eternal war, uncover a dark demonic plot to raise an army. Atharron, a four thousand year old former ruler of Calnis; Sarah, apathetic, but determined to do her duty; and Luke, a young Tarimai discovering the wonders and burdens of immortality. Together, they make their way through the first half of the twentieth century on the trail of a Great President of Hell and the mysterious Man with the Eyes. Plymouth, England, 1940 Luke, Sarah and Atharron find a body in the woods, attacked by a vampire. But evidence points to something else, something different, something more evolved than a standard vampire. And more dangerous. 
The eighth Chronicle in the Tarimain series. ~5400 words The sound of police as they searched the area sounded throughout the wood, then died down a hour before dawn as the last officers gave up looking for anything, believing their report was nothing more than a hoax or misinterpreted sound. As the vampire regained consciousness, he listened to the sounds. A hooting owl replaced the humans. He tasted dirt in his mouth and struggled to move. The pain in his neck was subsiding, but it remained a throbbing ache, and he felt it healing, half-way there already. He pushed against the soil covering him and thrust his hand into the open air, feeling the cool breeze brush against his damp and muddy skin. He grappled for something to hold and found a tree root sticking from the ground. He took hold of it and pulled himself from his grave. He spat out dirt, but couldn’t breath enough to do more than just push it out with his tongue. He felt at his neck; there was a great hole where his larynx had been, but he knew that would heal. He pushed himself to his feet, and let the earth fall back into the empty hollow of his early grave.