The streets seemed to get darker as I walked forward. The street lamps got less 'protective', the lawns, once attempting an acceptable level of green, had turned to brown and yellow barren patches in the dirt. And a few blocks later....those patches had turned to plates of concrete and broken glass. Trash littered the streets. Beer bottles, nudie mags, potato chip wrappers, newspapers, and used condoms. Definitely the type of area that would welcome a profitable business like a spice shack in its boundaries. And then, finally, after a long walk....I found the building I was looking for. Towering over me like some dark Mecca that was more than worth the travel it took to get there.
It was seven stories high, with bars on every window and gates that covered the entire back area of the apartment. The door was made of a secure metal, but it looked like it had scrapes, dents, and dings, in it anyway from people trying to force their way in. A few of the lower level windows had bullet holes in them, and the streets were nearly empty at this time of night. With the exception of a few teens with cell phones, who wandered the darkened blocks to either sell drugs or act as a form of 'hood security' for those who were...alerting their friends to the limited police activity in that area. Yes, I had definitely arrived at the right spot. I took a deep breath, and let it out...feeling the energy inside me strengthen with the anxiety behind being so close to one of my targets. To finally be close enough to reach out and touch one of the people behind this...it was like no other feeling I've ever known. I cracked my knuckles in preparation, then marched forward, towards the first step of my destiny.
Stepping into the old run down place was an assault on the senses. Everything was dirty beyond belief, carelessly left to rot without redemption. The wretched smell of the place was strong enough where I could taste it in the back of my throat, and my ears were filled with the sound of snoring and muffled laughter from the junkies inside. Disgusting. Every part of this place was disgusting. I guess I should have expected that. But it didn't slow me down. My mind was set on one thing, and one thing only. Soon, I'll get a piece of my life back. Soon....I'll be whole again.
I walked around and searched the place for hours, until finally, I got to the fourth floor....and sensed that I was in the right place. Everythng was a little bit nicer than the other floors in this building. Not by much, but enough to be evident upon first sight. The floor I was on had music playing in the background, and the apartments, with all of their doors open, actually looked somewhat livable. There were empty alcohol bottles all over the place, debris from parties that had ended a long time ago. Days, if not weeks. But at the end of that long hall, there was a specific noise calling out to me. The noise of sloppy drunken speech and the drugged up blabbering of spice heads twisting their lives away. This was the place. I could feel it. The pen door in front of me was well lit, and there was enough movment inside to suggest something a bit more 'active' than your random spice head passing out on the floor. For someone as accostomed to the limits of his drug use as Spaz was...this would be his spot. He'd be somewhere a bit more lively, controlling his narcotic just enough to be able to leave and have 'fun' with his little party troop later on. Yes....I can feel it. He is here. And I am ready.
I moved closer, my footsteps cracking on the dusted rubble and broken glass particles under my feet in that dark hallway. Wondering what it would be like to see his face again. I mean...Duffy I had simply used for information. I enjoyed his suffering for the mere fact that he could have helped me, but didn't. Somehow this was different. More personal. Even though he was the last to join in on my feeding...his bite was partially responsible for my untimely demise. And it made my blood boil to know that I was only seconds away from being in his attendance again. I could feel several spots on my left arm strangely begin to heat up gradually as I got closer. The same spots where he bit me. My shoulder, my lower arm, my wrist...it was as if the muscles themselves were beginning to itch and spasm in the presence of their murderer. And when I finally entered the room...my eyes slowly scanning the dusty old room, looking past the drugged out vermin that polluted the wooden floor....I saw him. Unchanged from the night he bled me. With a young halflife female at his side, hugging closely to his leg with a smile while he stared at the ceiling in a euphoric bliss. I believe it was the gentle grin on his face that caused my eyebrows to tilt at an enraged angle. He had truly forgotten me....hadn't he? Tossing the concept of my life aside as if it never mattered at all. You have no idea how crazy it was to actually lay eyes on him again. Ah yes...the anger....there it is. I knew I'd find it again when I needed it.
It was the intense fury inside of me that began to change my entire presence in that room. My confidence seemed to shoot through the roof, and my body slowly began to creep its way into hunting mode all on its own. My more 'rational' thoughts were receeding back into a haze of mental fog. Erasing the disappointed eyes of Patrick and Mr. Talbot, and leaving only the taste of bitter acid to crawl along the surface of my tongue. A level of hatred so deep, that my fingers itched for the opportunity to tear into his weak flesh and rip him apart without mercy. Yes, the rational thoughts were long gone now. But that's ok. I won't be needing them. Not now. Not now.
I entered the room fully, my black trenchcoat nearly sweeping the floor, flared out behind me like a set of dark bat wings. I saw about six or seven other spice heads enjoying their fix in dismal corners, looking up briefly at my intrusion, only to direct their attention back to their high. There was a small cassete radio in the background playing loud industrial music, the echoes bouncing off of the lonely undecorated walls of the room, and Spaz was sitting on what looked like a throne...but was really just a series of bricks, cinder blocks, and boxes, padded to make him more comfortable. His shoulder length brown hair was just as ratty as it was when I last saw it, and his 17 year old stubble had the same boyishly gruff appearance. He was smoking a cigarette, looking off into space, feeling the narcotics in his system sweep him off to a supposedly 'better' place. I had no problem making it across the room in a few long strides, slowly allowing my footsteps to measure the space around me as I moved, and when I finally faced him....I felt the most demonic smile cross my lips.
He looked down from the ceiling, and raised his eyebrows at the sight of me. His expression was almost comical, as he sat up and leaned forward, slumped over at the shoulders. I didn't say a word at first. I couldn't. This outer shell of wickedness was the only thing containing the screams of rage that I was holding inside. I felt as if I spoke even a single word while looking into his eyes, that I would rush forward and bite into his throat so deeply that there wouldn't be enough meat leftover to hold his head in place. I tried hard to swallow it all, but my mind was spinning around in circles. Murderer!!! MURDERER!!!
"Uhhh....can I help you, dude?" He asked me, squinting his eyes to get a better look at me. Conceal it, Cylance. Hold it in. We don't want him to know. Not yet. Not until we get closer.
"You most certainly can. I've been looking for you." I said. Even the sound of my voice was different. Pleasant....but different. Not my own.
"Yeah? Well, I mean...could you maybe look for me some more, like, tomorrow? Because I'm entertaining a rather righteous buzz right now. And I don't wanna scatter it until I get my money's worth...you know what I mean?" He said with an intoxicated smile. "Huh? You know what I mean, buddy? Hehehe..."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Spaz. I don't intend to lose sight of you again....not now that I have you right here in front of me." I told him. My smile widened, my eyes locked on him...daring him to move. Even an inch.
"Hey...good guess on the name, man." He smiled, lost in his 'escape' from reality. "You know me, but I don't know you. How is that?" He asked.
"Let's just say....that you and I have a bit of a history together, Spaz."
"History? Aww, dude, I'm sorry if you're expecting, like...a 'hug' or something. But, seriously? I can't remember shit from one night to the next." He said. "Not that I wanna be rude or anything. You understand."
Just hearing his valley boy accent on every word was enough to ffed the anger inside. Keeping all thoughts of future consequences at bay and locking me in the moment. "Oh...I'm sure you'll remember me, Spaz. Something is certain to...'jog your memory'....once you think about it long enough."
"Hehehe, my memory doesn't do much jogging, dude. It's more of a couch potato." He grinned. "I doubt it could be more dysfunctional."
"Believe me...it could be a LOT more dysfunctional. I can show you, if you want." I kept talking softly, moving slightly from side to side as I walked, keeping my gaze focused on my prey. A sinister, but alluring, grin remained chiseled onto my face. He allowed me to get closer to him, even if I did conceal my movements by pacing back and forth at an angle. Five steps to the right, five more to the left. Getting two steps closer with every spin on my heel. All I need, is to get close enough to strike. Just close enough to slit his fucking throat with the sharpened blade of this saber, the rush of heated blood flooding down the front of his neck like a crimson waterfall. And while the surprise forces his body into an instant state of shock...I'll look him dead in the eye, place the tip of the blade at his heart, and run him all the way through. Destroying him entirely as the coagulated plasma fills the back of his throat. Watching him choke on the blood of his last victim...the way he should have choked on mine. I'm so close. Sooooooo close.
"Say, man...do we have, like, an....appointment or something?"
"We've had an appointment for a few years now, Spaz. You owe me. I've finally come to collect." I said with a seductive growl, my body turning over to it's murderous instincts.
"Dude, hold on a sec...I don't owe nobody! You dig? I've paid for every ounce of spice I've gotten, man. I make sure of that. Check it out..." Spaz reached into his inside pocket, and pulled out the folded up ratty notebook where he kept all of his budgets, memories, and important info. Since his brain probably wasn't efficient enough to hold anything worthwhile anymore, he had to find a substitute in the form of pen and paper. I'm glad. Because, whether he knows it or not, that book is going to tell me everything I need to know for the next few nights. It is going to act as a map for hunting my own killers and taking them out right before I.....
...Well...let's just say that once this is settled, and the game is finished....then so am I. End of story. I was sent out here with one purpose. One task. All of the cards fell into just the right positions to get me here, as I predicted they would. And I will finish what I started last night. After that...? There won't be anything left for me to do but murder helpless men, women, and children, in order to keep myself alive...becming one of 'them'. Making the world an even greater cesspool than it already is. The idea of killing myself would be a hard one to contemplate...if it weren't for the realization of the fact that I'm dead already. What I told Mr. Talbot in that basement tonight was true. I have gone on my last hunt. I have murdered my last innocent. I've kept myself alive for these past two years, but only because I needed the time to prepare for my revenge. The blood of those people is on their hands as well. I swear...I won't add to the legacy of violence that this vile species has brought to this world by trying to maintain my hellish existence any longer than necessary. Soon it will end. And their pestilence on this Earth will end with me.
"Yep, you see? Right there! Balance, zero! You've got the wrong dude, dude." He said with a smirk. "Besides, I don't even remember buying any product off of you anyway. Get a clue, kid."
I was almost there. So close. So very close.
I reached down inside my trenchcoat to grab at my belt, wrapping my fingers around the handle of my saber. My God...gripping that handle was an almost orgasmic rush for me! I was actually going to do it. And he's too stupid to know that he could probably count his last few breaths from this moment on just two hands. "You know...I have to admit...I'm a bit disappointed in how easy this is going to be." I heard the words leave my mouth...but did I really say them? Was my brain working on its own right now? At that moment, I almost felt more like a spectator to my emotions than an active participant. It was strangely liberating, to tell you the truth. "I thought that I'd be able to make much more of a sport out of killing you, Spaz. This doesn't seem like a challenge at all."
His brow wrinkled up. "Killing me? Dude, what the hell are you on?"
"If only you knew..." I said, and while I was still a few steps away from him, I pulled the long saber off of my waist, and held it up in plain sight for him to see. I could have moved in closer. I could have cut his throat in half if I had just gotten a bit closer. But as the dark side of my mind said once before...that would have been much too easy. He doesn't deserve to be surprised with a killing blow. No. I want him to FEEL it. I want him to KNOW it's coming....and to suffer through it, like I did. With a quick motion, I slashed forward at his face, purposely hitting nothing but air. Just to let him know that the game was about to begin.
"Whoah! What the fuck are you doing, man??? Put that shit away!" He said, getting up now and pushing the bitch at his feet to the side. "HEY!!! I said, HEY!!! Knock it off, dude! What the hell are you doing with that thing?" He backed up from me, his eyes bugged out as his brain tried desperately to swim through the narcotics in his system and assess the danger involved here. I walked closer, the blade at my side, smiling as I finally began to see the familiar act of cowardice that is involved with the sudden knowledge that you are about to die. It was so lustfully satisfying.
"I know you don't remember me, Spaz...but I remember you. I haven't forgotten your face, not once in two long years."
"Two years? What are you TALKING about, two years?" He whimpered, tripping over his own feet as he backed away from me.
"You won't be alone for long. I promise. I'm going to line all of your little party friends right up beside you." I kept moving, calmly, slowly, as he tried to move around abandoned furniture and support beams in an attempt to put some distance between him and the blade.
"C'mon dude! You are seriously fucking up my high right now!" He said, and then looked at the twisted up vampires sitting on the floor around him. "What are you fuckers waiting for? Get off your ass and DO something!"
I actually had to laugh as I saw three or four of his junkie friends attempt to stumble to their feet. It was a strange feeling to experience...that intense anger, that incredible satisfaction, and that undeniable rush of excitement, all at once. Stirred together with a smile wicked enough to cause the devil himself to blush. I waited for his so called 'friends' to surround me on all sides, but never took my mind off of Spaz. Not for a second. I felt a hand put a tight grip on my shoulder, and a voice said, "Come on kid, let's go. Beat it!" When I didn't respond, my grin getting wider by the second, my stare locked onto the walking 'corpse' in front of me...the man got angry and grabbed a handfull of my long blond hair. He yanked it back roughly, but I felt no pain at all. I allowed myself to lean back with the force of his pull, and throwing myself to the ground, my foot swung upwrds to kick him square in the jaw! He must have instantly lost a tooth or two from the blow, I could feel the crack as the metal tip of my boot connected. He screamed out in agony, and released me as I quickly hopped back up to my feet and went bacto my position of stillness. My eyes stayed focus, and as they darkened with their crimson glow...Spaz finally gave into the fear completely, and tried to run.
The other men around me moved in to put their hands on me, but they were a joke. Lost in the growing rage inside me, I allowed my arms to reach out in all directions. Bruises darkened, bones cracked, splashes of blood swept across the surface of my fists...but I kept my eyes on the prize as he tried to make a break for the exit. Ahhhh...now this is more like it. This is the 'hunt' I was looking for.
I toyed with the men around me for a few more moments until Spaz reached the front door and ran out into the hallway. I figured that was enough of a head start to make this interesting. "Ya Goddamned kid! Ya broke my fucking NOSE!" One of the men screamed, and I took the opportunity to put an end to the dance and get on with my business. I took the saber in hand, and with a few swift spins of my body, my trenchcoat floating up around me like a black cape, I cut them all don to size in seconds. Slashing their arms, legs, and chests, deeply enough for the blood to run freely. Wasting their newly acquired 'spice' fix all over their shoes. There was a pause as they tied to react to the quick slices I had delivered to them...and I walked calm out of the center of their circle...hearing hem fall to the floor behind me moments later.
I sped up my pace slightly, searching the hallway for my target. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." I sang tauntingly. "Come on, Spaz...I wanna finish our conversation. You're gonna make me think that you don't wanna talk to me." I didn't hear him running down the steps, which meant that he was hiding out somewhere close. I may have been flooded with the sensation of vengence in motion, but I was far from being out of control. I'm not the raving lunatic he wants me to be. I marched down that hallway, looking into every apartment...until I began to feel that itch again in my arm. Where his invisible teeth marks still burned me in his presence. "You can't hide from me. I can feel you." I said outloud, knowing that he could hear me as I zeroed in on his location. "Warmer......warmer.....waaaarmer...." I was close enough to hear the rapid pounding of his heartbeat. It was a severe contrast to the mellowed out thumps of his spice head companions. Then, I felt the burn as I located the right door, and slowly turned towards it. "Ahhhhh....there you are."
Just then, Spaz shot out from behind the door and tok off running top speed down the steps. "You're fucking CRAZY, man! Stay away from me!" He shouted behind him. He really should save his breath for running...he'll never escape me this way.
I sensed the rapid approach of two of his 'protectors' rushing towards me from behind, and side stepped the first one to trip him and let gravity pull him down on his face. The other attempted to grab me by the throat...but as soon as his outstretched arms were close enough, I leaned backwards and slashed deeply at both of his wrists, bringing the saber around to cut him twice across his stomach. Nearly splitting him at the navel. I kicked hm back into the room he came from, and without even looking, drove the blade down through the right thigh of the other man at my feet. I felt the blade vibrate as it hit the floor, and I violently twisted to make sure hat he got the message. His screams assured me that I had.
I looked over the edge of the staircase, and could hear Spaz galloping down the steps as fast as his wobbly legs and intoxicated balance could take him. He was about three stories below me, and I didn't really have time to take the long way. Instead I jumped over the railing and fell down four floors, catching the next rail and flipped over to meet him head on. The surprise on his face was priceless. "Jesus!" He shouted as I took two minor swipes at the sides of his neck. Nothing too harmful, just enough to draw blood and cause the perspiration on his skin to sting the wound a little.
"Running out on me? Now how rude is that?" I asked him.
"Fuck you, dude! Get away from me!"
"Boo hoo...be a MAN for crying out loud! You're starting to embarass me!" I said, feeling the anger begin its labored journey to the surface. Speeding forward like a stampede of wild horses as the 'playful' part of my mission was coming to an end. "C'mon, I thought you were gonna be tougher than this! What a fucking disappointment! You were hardly worth the wait!" I said. "I certainly hope your friends are a bit more worthy of the work I put in to make this happen!"
The fear took a hold of him, and like a dumbass, Spaz attempted to mimic my shortcut to the bottom of the stairs by jumping over the side and falling helplessly for two stories...only to break his legs and ankles when he hit the bottom. I glanced over the railing and looked down at him, crying out in pain as he tried to crawl away. "Did that hurt?" I asked. "Because it looked like it hurt." He was shaking from the ache in his lgs, and I started making my way down the stairs at a regular pace. "Don't you go away, now. You stay put. I'll be there in a second."
I could hear him scraping at the floor beneath him. The fatigue, the pain, the feeling of hope deserting him when he needed it most. It was exactly the kind of prolonged suffering that I was hoping he would experience. And although I was anxious to watch him grovel at my feet, I made sure to take my time. To measure every step. To enjoy every last inch of the decreasing space between him and I. It filled me with a level of maddening appreciation for my prey...and it brought the smile back to my face. If only for the moment.
When I reached the botom of the stairs and stood on the ground floor, Spaz's face was covered in tears. He tried even harder to get away from me, but his legs were shattered too badly for him to stand, or even crawl away from his destiny. "GET AWAY FROM ME!!! You hear me??? One of you guys HELP me!!! What are you DOING??? Get in there and bust him up or something!" He shouted, but the faces of his junkie comrades showed no signs of assistance. Most of them were too twisted to even tell if this scenario was 'real' or not. And the others were smart enough to know that I'd slash any one of them to ribbons if they took a single step in my direction. He was fucked, and he knew it. "COME ON!!! I give you assholes my DRUGS! A place to twist up! AREN'T YOU GONNA DO ANYTHING???"
"No, Spaz. They're just gonna sit right there and enjoy the show." I smiled, stepping closer while he tried again to get to his feet. As though he could bear the pain long enough to get away. The survival instinct can be so amusing sometimes. "You're not gonna outrun me, Spaz. You're just hurting yourself."
"Shhhhh......" I whispered. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon." I kneeled down beside him, and grabbed a hold of his broken ankle to yank him away from the wall and lie him flat on his back in the center of the room. My, how he did scream when I pulled that ankle. The bones inside felt like a bundle of broken sticks in my hands. I liked it.
"Why....?" He cried. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because, old friend...you once took the life of an innocent boy without thinking about the possible ramifications. A boy who had a lot to live for. You stole his spirit, his purpose...the very breath from his body. You helped them take everything. And you need to understand...that some evils DO have severe consequences." I said, and he gasped outloud as I raised the saber once again. "You don't deserve to live, Spaz....I did. And there aren't enough tears in that pathetic, drugged out, shell of yours to inspire a single moment of sympathy for your survival. You and your friends...you're going to be my greatest achievement. A real work of art. And I'm gonna make sure that the rest of them suffer just as much as you have. You can bet on it. I just wanted to make sure you knew that....before I said 'goodnight', Spaz." I told him, looking down on his body as he struggled to crawl away from me. "Goodnight, Spaz." Then, without further hesitation, I gnashed my teeth together and sharply stabbed downward with the saber!
His screams echoed off of the walls around us as I punctured his chest, right under the junction of his ribs, and I leaned the blade to and fro to deliver the maximum amount of pain as I possibly could while he wailed in agony. A fountain of blood bubbled up out of the hole I had just made in his center, and he reached forward with his arms, trying to grab the handle away from me. But he was much too weak for that now. Much too weak. I finally let go as the blood gurgled in the back of his throat, pouring down the sides of his cheeks as his boddy tried to curl up in a ball and return to the fetal position from which he was born. I can't tell you what I felt as I looked down upon him, writhing in agony. It wasn't what I was feeling a few moments ago. It was almost as if a sickness had suddenly flooded into my bloodstream, and I was almost nauseaous from the sight of it.
My breathing increased all on its own, a sight panic washing over me, and I had to fight to push it back down. To swallow it. Conceal it. It was done. The first part of the plan was complete. What am I stressing for? Just...breathe. Breathe.
At that moment he just....he looked so young. So young. I felt my cheeks warm over with a slight fever, and my vision blurred as a few tears welled up in my eyes against my control. I couldn't define the emotion, but it hurt. It hurt my very soul. However, as I tapped into my anger once again, the pain silenced itself, and my courage returned.
I reached into his pocket, and found his folded notebook, covered in blood. I pulled it out, and used my hand to wipe the excess blood off of it, smearing it in his face as he moaned and whimpered beneath me. "Thanks for the notebook. And for the work out. It was fun." I said. Then, in disgust, I spit in his face, and wrapped my fingers around his face as tightly as I could. He could hardly breath, and struggled to free himself by tossing his head violently back and forth. His hands were flailing madly, trying to hit and scratch at whatever part of me they could reach, his legs dancing out behind me. But the saber was so deep in his chest that every movement was more of a pain to him than it was to me. And that is when I felt the darkness spreading. Leaving my palm, and entering his mind. Wiping it clean. Leaving him dead outside, and alive on the inside. Covering his awareness in a thick black cloak that suffocated his every thought and left only the pain and the emptiness behind. Did he remember me? In his last few moments of consciousness...did his brain set off one last flare that would allow him to recognize his murderer? Bringing him the understanding of his deed....and his punishment. I'll never know. I stood up, and pulled my saber from his chest...seeing the blank dead stare of his black eyes. And with a slight glance to the spice heads watching from the corner...I turned my back, cleaned my blade, and left. One down...four to go.
I had to turn my jacket inside out and keep it closed as I rode the bus home. I probably looked silly with an inside out jacket on, but better that than bloodstains. I couldn't get caught. Not yet. I have to finish. I HAVE to. I just remember sitting on that bus, holding Spaz's notebook close to my chest...and going from nearly being in tears, to nearly giggling softly to myself. It was an almost psychotic division in my personality...the tide rapidly swaying back and forth like the liquid in a tilting lavalamp. I didn't know what to feel. I only knew that I couldn't stop. I had to keep going. It's already begun. I have to...I have to keep going. Until every last one of them is dead. Every last one.
When I got back to the suburban house and opened the door, I didn't see a single light on. I don't know if I should be thankful of that or not. Because a part of me almost needed Mr. Talbot's words of encouragement. Maybe even his words of disapproval. Even when he was trying to stop me, it gave me enough of a fight to keep the anger right where it should be. Out here on the surface. Burning eternally out of control. Giving me a purpose. A mission. Without it...I was afraid that I'd look in the mirror, and be afraid of what was looking back at me. And I just don't have the luxury of being afraid right now.
I walked downstairs to that empty basement, and kicked off my shoes. I removed my coat, and my clothes, heading towards the shower to wash the stink of that spice shack off of me. I don't ever remember scrubbing myself so hard. So thoroughly. Not even after my first hunt. The stains went away, but the feeling of being 'filthy' never left me. The water wasn't hot enough, the soap not strong enough, the washcloth not textured enough...to wash that sensation away. I didn't know if it would ever go away.
I stepped out of the shower a half hour later, and dried myself off. I noticed something strange as I came to my right arm...and looked closely. The bite marks...Spaz's bite marks...they were gone. Just gone. The marks from everyone elses bite was still deeply imprinted in my skin...but his were gone. Healed almost instantly. I wonder if the others will do the same, when their time comes. Mr. Talbot's handbooks did say that a vampire's body works in strange ways sometimes. Every cell becoming a physical manifestation of who they are spiritually. I suppose this trick is a part of that process. Weird.
When I opened the door to lay on the mattress, I saw Patrick laying there in my bed, sprawled out with the covers half off of his slim smooth body. A vision to cause one to gasp with admiration for everything he is. He must have come down while I was in the shower, but despite attempts to stay awake this late, he was already fast asleep again. It was after 4 AM, afterall. I stood there for a moment to gaze upon the beauty before me, using my fingers to lightly brush some of his blond curls off of his forehead. And I leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek, causing him to stir slightly. So sweet. So surreal. I swear...Patrick is the last pure entity in this world for me. The only sunshine that I have left. It's going to hurt to leave him behind. It's going to hurt us both...when the end comes.
I climbed into bed, feeling his body heat warming me through the silk like texture of his soft young skin. I spooned up behind him and held him tight, remembering what it was like to have my body be so warm. So full of life. Untainted by the horrible things I've done since I lost myself in that dark alley, one cold winter night.
I've got to stop. My mind is looping in circles again. The handbook said that some vampire memories would repeat themselves from time to time. I'v gotta get a hold on my thoughts. I don't want to 'crack up' unexpectedly. I need what's left of my sanity to finish. To finish. To finish.
A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I kissed his shoulder from behind, reaching around him to hold him tight as I waited for the dawn to bring me the sleep I needed to do it again tomorrow night.
According to Spaz's book, he was supposed to meet Trixie and Carolyn at the 'Meatlocker Club' tomorrow at 11 PM for a night out. I'm sure they had a really nice time planned for one another.
But when they get there....I'll be waiting. Saber in hand. And they'll be sorry. I'll make them sorry.
I'll make them pay.
Please feel free to let me know what you think at Comicality@webtv.net or stop by the "Blood Bank" and my website at http://comicality.gayauthors.org and see more!
And check out the story "Gone From Daylight" to see even more vampire mayhem!