Michael
There’s nothing quite like wandering the battlefield after a clash. The smell of blood and destruction in the air is strong. It amazes me how these humans fight each other; so messy, so pathetic, yet invigorating. They fight for their country, for their religion, for power when they really should fight for what is important, themselves. Yes, for their own desires; not for someone else’s. That’s how I have seen it for the past hundred years. I saw my desires and went after them; even had others follow me. Of course, I’m not human either; being a deo has its advantages, longevity being one. Inhaling, I savored the sharp metallic aroma. Blood is what fuels a deo, gives us our real strength, fueling the demon within. Some humans would call us vampires, but we are much more. We look human until our eyes turn red. When we need blood, that’s when our instincts kick in. Most of us would simply attack a human, fueling the vampire myths. Those of us with control, we are able to take our time and contain our hunger. Myself, I have a forced control and I still despise the one who encourages it. Inhaling deep again, I enjoyed this wonderful scent. Looking ahead, I saw a soldier, still half-alive, a perfect snack. Licking my lips, I let myself go. As I was walking toward him, I heard a gunshot and saw the dust in the air from little bullet hitting the ground in front of me. Damn. He’s here. Glaring to the west, I found the only place where a sniper could fire a shot like that; a clock tower on a now abandoned school. It was perfect. Focusing, I saw a slight movement. Yes, he knew I saw him. Shadowstepping, I appeared in front of the man. Except for his silver hair, the sniper appeared to be in his mid-twenties and he had his rifle in his arms pointed at me. I couldn’t hide my grin. Nathan was being tormented again. You could see it in his blue eyes. Faint red flecks were fading along with the pain, despair, and conflicting emotions he was trying so desperately to hide from me. Taking a quick glance at his neck I also saw the fading black line of his collar. Mr. Control Freak had him again and the order must still be ringing in his head. I would feel sorry for Nathan, but I see a cruel sweet justice in it all. My grin grew wider as I looked down at the sad form below me, “Missed me again my friend.”
A wave of emotions passed over his face before he lowered his weapon. “I only did what was necessary.”
I chuckled, “You can never hit your target.” He has shot at me on at least eight other occasions and each time, he missed. “You’re a bad shot.”
He shrugged, “I did what was necessary.” Looking up at me, his face gave him away. I had seen that look before; Nathan was trying to convince himself of something. It seemed to me that he was trying to ignore the order. “I also wanted to get your attention.”
Now he’s distracting himself. Crossing my arms, I leaned against a pillar supporting the large bell, “Well, you have it.”
“I need you to meet me at the coffee shop.” Taking a breath, he clicked the safety on the rifle then laid it in his lap. Good to know he’s not planning on shooting me today. “There’s someone you should meet.”
Raising my eyebrow, I had to wonder. “Someone I should meet? And who would that be?”
“You’ll know tomorrow morning at eight thirty.” I growled at him as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. “We’ll talk tomorrow”
I hated how he never said anything straight. Shaking my head, I left him there. Shadowstepping into my own apartment, my frustration boiled over as I let out another growl. Nathan was more than frustrating. He always interfered. Today, he disrupted my walk and my meal. On top of that, he wanted me to meet him in the morning. A quick glance at the clock caused my lip to curl. It was 2:45am, so much for enjoying my night. Then again, there is one thing I can do to raise my spirit, so I shadowstepped again.
The girl was cute, nothing too special; average height, mousey brown hair tied back into a short ponytail, brown eyes. Simple and cute. I followed her after she had left her work. She was a stripper at one of the local clubs. Earlier, she was dancing for me. I made sure to leave an impression with my obvious good looks and the nice tip I had given her. Now I was going to get what I really wanted. Waiting at the corner for a cab I knew wasn’t coming, I turned my head and grinned at her, “Good morning.” She looked at me blinking. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting to see me again, especially at the early hour of four in the morning. Chuckling, I leaned against the light pole and watched her. “Walking home? My cab is on its way if you want a ride.”
Then she found her words, “Oh, um, right. I’m fine. I don’t live too far.”
I raised my eyebrow, “Walking home alone in the dark? Isn’t that a little dangerous? Would you like me to walk with you? You never know who could be on the streets.”
She frowned, “I’ll be fine. I do this a lot. And who are you anyway? You’re just some guy who came to the club to drink and get his rocks off.” I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember; I was the one who danced for you. I’m a big girl; I don’t need you to help me with anything.”
I’m guessing that tip did nothing for me. Maybe if I tried something different. Running my fingers through my black hair I sighed, “Alright.” I looked at her and saw her suck in a breath. She was staring at my eyes, which I knew were not red, at least not yet. Perhaps she liked that they were emerald green. Maybe this silly streetlight is better lighting than inside the dark club. Now she was just seeing how I looked; tall, well-built, spiked black hair, with emerald eyes to top it off. Not to sound pretentious, but damn, I look good, just downright devilishly handsome. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” She was thinking and I could not make myself look anymore pathetic. Stripper girls in this area are notoriously hard to pick up, even after flaunting some money.
“Ok… I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you walked with me.”
Grinning wide, I held out my hand to her, “Name’s Michael Grimms.”
Instead of reaching out to me, she clutched her purse tighter and started walking, “Clara.” Walking beside her, I began to take in my surroundings, taking in every sight, sound, and smell. As far as I could tell, there were no other deo in the area. I was in the clear. Looking at her from the corner of my eye, I could see she was nervous. Walking home with strangers wasn’t her thing. Before I could open my mouth, she spoke. “Aren’t you going to call the cab service and tell them to meet you somewhere else?”
Right, I was waiting on a cab. “I’ll call when we get to your place. Need to give them an address to go to.” She stiffened. Still uncomfortable. Oh wait, I was drinking at the club, a lot, she saw it, and I’m not acting drunk. I handle alcohol too well. Either way, not good, minus one point for me.
I heard him before he showed. A man holding a crowbar, wearing a ski mask stepped out in front of us, “Give me your money and neither of you will get hurt.” Well great, not only had Nathan ruined my snack earlier, now I have a mugger standing in my way. Not cool. Not cool at all. I glared at him. Clara was shaking and took a step back. Glancing at her, I shook my head. For her, running in those heels could only end poorly. The mugger held up the crowbar, “Last time I’m going to ask. Give me your money, now.” He took a few steps closer then I stood in front of Clara. “Don’t be a hero man. I’m not playing here.”
I couldn’t help my growl, “Neither am I, leave her alone. She hasn’t done anything to you. Leave.” The man frowned and swung the crowbar, hitting me on the head. Stumbling back, I fell to the ground and grabbed my head. Jek that hurt, a lot. That stupid mugger had quite a bit of strength to him. I heard Clara scream. Opening my eyes, I saw him holding her; they were fighting over her purse. I sat up and looked at my hand. Great, I was bleeding too. Standing, I swung my fist at him sending him to the pavement. I grabbed his crowbar then kicked his side, “Leave!” The man scrambled to his feet and ran off. I threw the crowbar into an alley. At least he’s gone, one problem solved. Stars flashed in my vision and then the headache started. Holding my head, I closed my eyes tight. Damn crowbar probably cracked my skull as well.
“Oh my god! You ok?” I looked at Clara. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood running down my face. “Oh my god! You’re bleeding! We should call 911!” Opening her purse, she fumbled for her phone.
Placing my other hand on hers, I grinned. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a bump on the head. Just need to sit down for awhile.” Honestly, it would heal much faster if I had blood. Blood. I closed my eyes; I was beginning to crave it. Desperately, I forced myself to control the temptation. Tamp down the cravings so I don’t jump her in an alley.
“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and led me. Worry had covered her face. Turning down another road and walking for another few blocks, we stopped in front of an older apartment building.
Once inside, she sat me down on her couch and went into the bathroom to get some washcloths and bandages. Looking around, her apartment was sparsely furnished. I was on a brown suede couch and the chair next to it had a faded blue plaid fabric on it. The TV stand was cheap with an older box television on it. Furniture must be hand me downs, free from friends and family. There were a few pictures on the wall behind it, Clara and another girl, one of a dog, a few of what looked to be her childhood. Hearing footsteps, I turned my head. Not only did she have the bandages, but also she had quickly changed into an oversized shirt and sweatpants. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to remain sitting. “Hold still.” Kneeling in front of me, Clara began to wipe the blood off my face. I could smell her, sweat, cigarettes, all from the club. There was an undertone of something like honey and an artificial floral scent; had she put on perfume? The damp towel touched my wound causing me to flinch. She jumped slightly but held the towel to my head. When I looked at her eyes, they were focused on my injury. All I need is for her to look at me. One look to mesmerize her and I could be out of here sooner. Putting on a bandage, she smiled. “There. At least it’s not bleeding anymore.” Then she looked at my eyes, I saw her tense. I was affecting her and she didn’t want it. Or she was shy? Interesting, that could explain it, but I wouldn’t have guessed with the way she was dancing earlier. Just thinking about those moves made me want her.
Carefully, I reached up to place my hand on her cheek. Turning her face to me, I gave her a small, gentle grin. “Thank you.”
She shook her head. “No, if you hadn’t been with me, I could’ve been hurt or worse.” Clara tensed. “I should apologize to you for your getting hurt for protecting me.”
Brushing my thumb across her cheek, I wiped away a tear that had slipped free. She was upset about me? She really shouldn’t be. No one should care about me. “It was nothing.” Now was when I should make my move. She was vulnerable and I needed her. I needed to drink. Slowly, I leaned forward. I could feel Clara‘s breath hitch when I pressed my lips against hers. She was hesitant at first, but then she relaxed. Good, she’s let me get closer. I could, should, drain her now, but I think I shall have a little fun first. Placing my other hand on her other cheek, I was able to pull her closer and eventually into my lap. Yes, this could happen, she will be mine for the night. Clara moaned quietly as I kissed her, only driving me wilder. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck. I had her. Rolling over, I placed her on the couch and I hovered over her. Pulling back, I controlled my breathing. A nod of her head drove me over the edge.
A few hours later, I sat up to see her lying next to me. Clara may be a stripper, but she had talent. I leaned over her and took in her smell. It is going to be a sad day for those who do love her. Not that I cared. I had my own agenda as I positioned myself over her sleeping form. She shifted in her sleep, exposing more of her neck. Perfect. I brushed her hair off her shoulder. I kissed her on her collarbone then moved up. Moaning in her sleep, I closed my eyes and bit. The taste of her blood over my tongue was refreshing. Gripping her arm, I tried to control myself. If I became violent with her, Nathan would show or worse. Then her moan became a whine, she was waking up. Opening my eyes was my first mistake. I let go to look at her and she screamed; red eyes, of course, stupid mistake. They were always afraid of the eyes. I covered her mouth with my other hand and bit her again. Not yet, I needed more blood, just a little more. I kept drinking. The sweet taste of blood was what I had been craving. With each taste, I could feel myself slip just a little more. My strength was a small flame flickering back to life, waking me with a new drive. When I let her go, it was quiet and her body was cooling. Her eyes held no life in them. She may be gone, but her memories began to flash before my eyes; memories of her playing with the dog, her attending school, the fights she had with her siblings over who got the last cookie, her and her best friend gossiping over boys, she was even working to gain money for her mother who was sick. Poor girl. She had a good childhood, but it became hard after her father had left and her sister ran off with the local bad boy. Unfortunately, Clara had met a hungry me tonight. I was right when I had told her earlier that you never knew whom you could meet on the streets. That stranger could be someone like me, hungry for blood.
As I grabbed my clothes to get dressed, I saw myself in the mirror in her hallway. I wiped away the blood by my mouth with my right arm. That’s when I noticed the spiral tattoo was longer, the end closest to my elbow had stretched past the bend. I was definitely pushing it. The tattoo stretched now from below my elbow to my shoulder. The other piece of it was detached, but still connected. Along my ribs were more solid black lines, only three now. More will show someday, that I was sure. It was almost as if I had been wrapped by wire and it was going to constrict me once tightened. Growling, I hated looking at it. It was a hindrance. I couldn’t be myself with it. It trapped me. It was what caged me. It was what kept me from who I was. It was my prison.
The girl was cute, nothing too special; average height, mousey brown hair tied back into a short ponytail, brown eyes. Simple and cute. I followed her after she had left her work. She was a stripper at one of the local clubs. Earlier, she was dancing for me. I made sure to leave an impression with my obvious good looks and the nice tip I had given her. Now I was going to get what I really wanted. Waiting at the corner for a cab I knew wasn’t coming, I turned my head and grinned at her, “Good morning.” She looked at me blinking. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting to see me again, especially at the early hour of four in the morning. Chuckling, I leaned against the light pole and watched her. “Walking home? My cab is on its way if you want a ride.”
Then she found her words, “Oh, um, right. I’m fine. I don’t live too far.”
I raised my eyebrow, “Walking home alone in the dark? Isn’t that a little dangerous? Would you like me to walk with you? You never know who could be on the streets.”
She frowned, “I’ll be fine. I do this a lot. And who are you anyway? You’re just some guy who came to the club to drink and get his rocks off.” I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember; I was the one who danced for you. I’m a big girl; I don’t need you to help me with anything.”
I’m guessing that tip did nothing for me. Maybe if I tried something different. Running my fingers through my black hair I sighed, “Alright.” I looked at her and saw her suck in a breath. She was staring at my eyes, which I knew were not red, at least not yet. Perhaps she liked that they were emerald green. Maybe this silly streetlight is better lighting than inside the dark club. Now she was just seeing how I looked; tall, well-built, spiked black hair, with emerald eyes to top it off. Not to sound pretentious, but damn, I look good, just downright devilishly handsome. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” She was thinking and I could not make myself look anymore pathetic. Stripper girls in this area are notoriously hard to pick up, even after flaunting some money.
“Ok… I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you walked with me.”
Grinning wide, I held out my hand to her, “Name’s Michael Grimms.”
Instead of reaching out to me, she clutched her purse tighter and started walking, “Clara.” Walking beside her, I began to take in my surroundings, taking in every sight, sound, and smell. As far as I could tell, there were no other deo in the area. I was in the clear. Looking at her from the corner of my eye, I could see she was nervous. Walking home with strangers wasn’t her thing. Before I could open my mouth, she spoke. “Aren’t you going to call the cab service and tell them to meet you somewhere else?”
Right, I was waiting on a cab. “I’ll call when we get to your place. Need to give them an address to go to.” She stiffened. Still uncomfortable. Oh wait, I was drinking at the club, a lot, she saw it, and I’m not acting drunk. I handle alcohol too well. Either way, not good, minus one point for me.
I heard him before he showed. A man holding a crowbar, wearing a ski mask stepped out in front of us, “Give me your money and neither of you will get hurt.” Well great, not only had Nathan ruined my snack earlier, now I have a mugger standing in my way. Not cool. Not cool at all. I glared at him. Clara was shaking and took a step back. Glancing at her, I shook my head. For her, running in those heels could only end poorly. The mugger held up the crowbar, “Last time I’m going to ask. Give me your money, now.” He took a few steps closer then I stood in front of Clara. “Don’t be a hero man. I’m not playing here.”
I couldn’t help my growl, “Neither am I, leave her alone. She hasn’t done anything to you. Leave.” The man frowned and swung the crowbar, hitting me on the head. Stumbling back, I fell to the ground and grabbed my head. Jek that hurt, a lot. That stupid mugger had quite a bit of strength to him. I heard Clara scream. Opening my eyes, I saw him holding her; they were fighting over her purse. I sat up and looked at my hand. Great, I was bleeding too. Standing, I swung my fist at him sending him to the pavement. I grabbed his crowbar then kicked his side, “Leave!” The man scrambled to his feet and ran off. I threw the crowbar into an alley. At least he’s gone, one problem solved. Stars flashed in my vision and then the headache started. Holding my head, I closed my eyes tight. Damn crowbar probably cracked my skull as well.
“Oh my god! You ok?” I looked at Clara. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood running down my face. “Oh my god! You’re bleeding! We should call 911!” Opening her purse, she fumbled for her phone.
Placing my other hand on hers, I grinned. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a bump on the head. Just need to sit down for awhile.” Honestly, it would heal much faster if I had blood. Blood. I closed my eyes; I was beginning to crave it. Desperately, I forced myself to control the temptation. Tamp down the cravings so I don’t jump her in an alley.
“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and led me. Worry had covered her face. Turning down another road and walking for another few blocks, we stopped in front of an older apartment building.
Once inside, she sat me down on her couch and went into the bathroom to get some washcloths and bandages. Looking around, her apartment was sparsely furnished. I was on a brown suede couch and the chair next to it had a faded blue plaid fabric on it. The TV stand was cheap with an older box television on it. Furniture must be hand me downs, free from friends and family. There were a few pictures on the wall behind it, Clara and another girl, one of a dog, a few of what looked to be her childhood. Hearing footsteps, I turned my head. Not only did she have the bandages, but also she had quickly changed into an oversized shirt and sweatpants. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to remain sitting. “Hold still.” Kneeling in front of me, Clara began to wipe the blood off my face. I could smell her, sweat, cigarettes, all from the club. There was an undertone of something like honey and an artificial floral scent; had she put on perfume? The damp towel touched my wound causing me to flinch. She jumped slightly but held the towel to my head. When I looked at her eyes, they were focused on my injury. All I need is for her to look at me. One look to mesmerize her and I could be out of here sooner. Putting on a bandage, she smiled. “There. At least it’s not bleeding anymore.” Then she looked at my eyes, I saw her tense. I was affecting her and she didn’t want it. Or she was shy? Interesting, that could explain it, but I wouldn’t have guessed with the way she was dancing earlier. Just thinking about those moves made me want her.
Carefully, I reached up to place my hand on her cheek. Turning her face to me, I gave her a small, gentle grin. “Thank you.”
She shook her head. “No, if you hadn’t been with me, I could’ve been hurt or worse.” Clara tensed. “I should apologize to you for your getting hurt for protecting me.”
Brushing my thumb across her cheek, I wiped away a tear that had slipped free. She was upset about me? She really shouldn’t be. No one should care about me. “It was nothing.” Now was when I should make my move. She was vulnerable and I needed her. I needed to drink. Slowly, I leaned forward. I could feel Clara‘s breath hitch when I pressed my lips against hers. She was hesitant at first, but then she relaxed. Good, she’s let me get closer. I could, should, drain her now, but I think I shall have a little fun first. Placing my other hand on her other cheek, I was able to pull her closer and eventually into my lap. Yes, this could happen, she will be mine for the night. Clara moaned quietly as I kissed her, only driving me wilder. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck. I had her. Rolling over, I placed her on the couch and I hovered over her. Pulling back, I controlled my breathing. A nod of her head drove me over the edge.
A few hours later, I sat up to see her lying next to me. Clara may be a stripper, but she had talent. I leaned over her and took in her smell. It is going to be a sad day for those who do love her. Not that I cared. I had my own agenda as I positioned myself over her sleeping form. She shifted in her sleep, exposing more of her neck. Perfect. I brushed her hair off her shoulder. I kissed her on her collarbone then moved up. Moaning in her sleep, I closed my eyes and bit. The taste of her blood over my tongue was refreshing. Gripping her arm, I tried to control myself. If I became violent with her, Nathan would show or worse. Then her moan became a whine, she was waking up. Opening my eyes was my first mistake. I let go to look at her and she screamed; red eyes, of course, stupid mistake. They were always afraid of the eyes. I covered her mouth with my other hand and bit her again. Not yet, I needed more blood, just a little more. I kept drinking. The sweet taste of blood was what I had been craving. With each taste, I could feel myself slip just a little more. My strength was a small flame flickering back to life, waking me with a new drive. When I let her go, it was quiet and her body was cooling. Her eyes held no life in them. She may be gone, but her memories began to flash before my eyes; memories of her playing with the dog, her attending school, the fights she had with her siblings over who got the last cookie, her and her best friend gossiping over boys, she was even working to gain money for her mother who was sick. Poor girl. She had a good childhood, but it became hard after her father had left and her sister ran off with the local bad boy. Unfortunately, Clara had met a hungry me tonight. I was right when I had told her earlier that you never knew whom you could meet on the streets. That stranger could be someone like me, hungry for blood.
As I grabbed my clothes to get dressed, I saw myself in the mirror in her hallway. I wiped away the blood by my mouth with my right arm. That’s when I noticed the spiral tattoo was longer, the end closest to my elbow had stretched past the bend. I was definitely pushing it. The tattoo stretched now from below my elbow to my shoulder. The other piece of it was detached, but still connected. Along my ribs were more solid black lines, only three now. More will show someday, that I was sure. It was almost as if I had been wrapped by wire and it was going to constrict me once tightened. Growling, I hated looking at it. It was a hindrance. I couldn’t be myself with it. It trapped me. It was what caged me. It was what kept me from who I was. It was my prison.
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