Post by merc369 on Jun 5, 2009 23:20:30 GMT -5
[This is a gift for Amaya- hope you enjoy it, Ama ^^]
He stood atop the skyscraper, rain pouring against him. His eyes saw his quarry clearly despite being midnight during an intense storm. She took her usual path home, running through the streets to escape the rain; having little protection from the child sized umbrella. Again he briefly considered dropping down to help her, but alas it was forbidden. Instead he watched over her carefully.
His vision jittered- time to feed. He sighed, looking away from his object of affection, and chose a target; leaping from the building. He landed gracefully without a sound, despite having fallen a huge distance. Standing, the young man spotted his target in the crowd and began the chase. A fatter, middle aged woman, who by her looks was a bitchy individual, was his target. Plenty of blood- had to be with someone that large. The man stayed close behind her, stalking silently, waiting for the right moment. At this point he was positively drenched by the rain, dripping profusely. It didn’t bother him- he liked the rain. It washed away the sins of the night before; a clean slate for a new day- or in his case, night.
Finally, the moment arrived. The streets were bare excluding him and his prey. A single streetlamp lit the path, cars of varying shapes and colors lining the roads. He sucked in a deep breath and flew towards her. Slamming into her with more strength than anyone his size could possibly possess, the woman was thrown back into the single street lamp- bending it where she hit. The light flickered out, leaving the hunter and prey in complete darkness. The man didn’t need light to see; the world around him illuminated by just the light of the moon.
Miraculously the woman survived her assault and began to scramble up. From her hand bag she pulled a small revolver, and aimed blindly in the darkness. She shrieked at him to leave her, to back away before she blew his brains out. He knew better: knew the small projectile would barely even penetrate the skin: knew it wouldn’t draw blood. In a single moment he sidestepped, grabbed the woman’s arm and broke it, and tossed the useless weapon aside. His prey howled in pain, stumbling backwards holding her arm. In yet another single movement he gripped her head in his hand and slammed the woman into a wall, pinning her there.
Despite her age and weight, the woman put up fierce resistance by normal standards, though it was no match for the young man. He pulled her cranium back to expose her neck, and bit into it. Though blood was spilt, almost all of it was consumed by him. The woman stopped resisting and began to convulse; eyes rolling back into her skull. Finished, he released her, and she slumped against the wall with a steady stream of blood coming from her neck and arm. The rain quickly mixed and distilled it, washing away down the storm drain. Not that it mattered, as the young man was untouchable.
He looked around to be certain of his solitude. Certain, he slid his fingers through the blood, and slicked back his hair, allowing a single bang to still hang in front of his face. As he began to walk away, his foot bumped the revolver. He bent and pocketed it- a spoil of his victory.
A single bolt of lightning raced through the clouds, the thunder pounding only several seconds behind it. He looked up, luminescent yellow eyes searching the angry night sky for an answer. Upon receiving no answer, he let out a sigh- it was time to move. He crouched low, tensing the muscles in his legs until they throbbed. He released and was propelled up into the air, before coming back down onto the roof of a warehouse- silently as always. From there, he sniffed the air lightly, the scent of his brethren giving him direction. He leapt again, from roof top to roof top on his journey home. Come morning the evidence of his kill would be found, bagged up, and tucked away with the other “mysterious murders”, and a note sent to any relatives that may actually give a damn. For another day at least, his and his family’s existence would remain a secret, or at the least a problem everyone suspected but didn’t want to deal with.
On the outskirts of the city he reached Old Town. The buildings were in such a state of disrepair it wasn’t even safe to leap between them. He quietly climbed down a fire-escape and entered the busy streets, filled to the brim with the poor and downtrodden of the city. He didn’t care if they saw the blood on him- they wouldn’t care either. In Old Town it was common place to be bleeding from some orifice or another.
Finally the Church stood before him; a safe haven for those such as himself. Its construction was as patchwork as the clothes on beggars’ backs, a collection of odds and ends fused together to make a whole. You could read history from the pieces used in its eternal remodeling: hallmarks from each era. He climbed the steps and reached the grandiose mismatched doors, pushing them open to reveal the large chamber behind. Based on the large puddle forming in the left corner of the room, he concluded the Church had developed yet another leak- one that would require stealing a piece of sheet metal to cover up.
Per regulation, the chamber remained empty. Other than keeping the supports in working order and the walls together, the entry chamber was constantly left in a state of disrepair, so as to put off anyone who may seek refuge there that doesn’t belong. Shutting the doors behind him, he entered and went to the farthest wall from the doors. The rubble was thickest here, nearly reaching the ceiling in some spots. From years of practice he knew exactly where to look. Shoving his arm into a seemingly ordinary pile of refuse, he grabbed the handle that would open the door to the undercroft. Hearing the click, he turned on his heel to see an opening to the underground and entered. The first tunnels of the undercroft were endlessly long and pitch black. Anyone who was supposed to be in the tunnels would have no problem seeing in the darkness. The tunnels divided and divided into a vast network, most however simply twisted back on themselves; a failsafe should any undesirables get into the undercroft.
After navigating the tunnels, the man entered another chamber, this one grand however, compared to the church it was built under. The undercroft was a bustling metropolis for his kind, with multiple districts. The first chamber was full of stalls and shops- the Market District. By human standards it was very poorly lighted, yet to the denizens it was as much light as they wanted; small, flickering torches placed on the walls every couple of feet. The metropolis was almost a socialist group- things one didn’t need were traded to those who did need it.
Slowly he navigated through the bustling crowd to a small stall that was basically empty. Working the stall was a small, scrawny individual, who looked fairly beaten and bruised. The young man pulled the revolver out of his pocket and flipped the cylinder open, revealing six unfired brass shells. He snapped it shut and set it on the counter of the stall, giving it a push back to the sleeping, bruised boy. “Here Adrian, this will give you a chance to feed. I doubt the humans will fight back with one of these in the base of their spine.”
Adrian looked up. Unlike the other vampires in the enclave, Adrian was weak. Weak to the point that other vampires had to bring him his meals. He awoke from his slumber, slowing looking up. At first he expected more ridicule, instead he saw a friendly face above him. Adrian’s gaze drifted down to the revolver. He looked back up, confused. “I…I don’t understand Raiden. Why a gun?”
The vampire known as Raiden laughed. “I just thought you’d like a chance to score a kill on your own, Adrian.” Raiden sat on his haunches, “You’ll never get stronger if you don’t learn how to hunt for yourself.”
Adrian looked at the revolver once more, extending his hand and wrapping it around the grip. A warm glow radiated from his face as Adrian realized the power he was being given. He mumbled in awe, “T-thank you…sir…I really appreciate this.” Adrian met Raiden’s eyes.
Raiden nodded in response, standing up. “Never leave one of the pack behind.” He paused before adding as he left, “Use it well- it’s only got six shots.” Quickly leaving the Market District, Raiden ascended a flight of stone steps to one of the finer sections of the enclave. He walked briskly down the darkly illuminated corridor, sliding effortlessly in between his fellows. As was his due, most got out of the way for him. Raiden continued on, passing hundreds of doors and turn-offs, before reaching yet another large set of doors, easily thirty feet high.
Raiden pushed them both open, without even slowing down or breaking a sweat. The room in front of him was lavish and spacious. Two long staircases wrapped around the sides of the room leading to an upstairs, and a hallway going deeper into the first floor extended beneath them. Without wasting time taking the stairs now that he was in the privacy of his family’s home, he leapt up to the second floor. Entering his room, he flung the trench coat on his bed, collapsing with a sigh. “Another night, another day I can’t talk to her…” He mumbled. Raiden picked up his guitar, plugging it into the amplifier. He’d gotten it from one of his meals quite awhile ago. Someone called Jimi Hendrix. Granted, the guitar was upside down and he had to learn to restring it, but he’d become quite the proficient player after nearly forty years of practice.
Raiden sat on his bed, playing for hours. During one of his inhumanly fast solos however, his high E, B, and G strings snapped. He groaned, setting the guitar aside. The only way to get strings was to go into a human shop. He’d need to find one open at night, and scrounge up the money. Raiden thought for a moment, “Yes!” Raiden cried happily as an idea entered his mind, “Yes!” And with that, he curled up in his bed, falling asleep as the morning’s rays came through his window.
The following night, Raiden awoke promptly at ten. Most stores closed at eleven, or if he was lucky twelve, but he didn’t want to push it. After getting dressed he hurried out of the enclave. Sprinting through Old Town, he jumped to the nearest and sturdiest rooftop, entering back into the profitable districts of the city. He dropped into the alley from the night before. “Thank you…” He mumbled, glad to see his prey still slumped over where he’d left her. Raiden found her purse over by the broken streetlight. Slightly covered in blood, but otherwise alright. Sifting through it, Raiden found what he needed. “Eureka!” He shouted, rather loudly, when he pulled out her big fat wallet. “This should be plenty…” Raiden dropped the purse and walked off in the direction of a music store.
A short while later Raiden found himself looking at various brands of strings in a worn down music store, with the paint peeling from the walls and outdated posters adorning nearly every flat surface there. He pulled out the wallet- this lady traveled with a lot of cash. Inside was around $100, cash. Raiden found a moderate brand of string and grabbed several packs. Raiden stepped into the line. “Humans…always waiting…why?” He mumbled, flipping the packs back and forth in his hands. A bell rang towards the front of the store- signaling the entrance of a customer. Raiden turned and his eyes widened. There, at the doorway of the store was the girl of his deepest desire. Ironic how after all this watching, she would find him. Raiden merely watched from his place in line, stupefied. Following close behind was the weak and bruised Adrian.
Raiden looked at his peer confused. “Adr-“ He stopped short when Adrian drew the revolver, pointing it at his love. “Adrian, no!” Raiden called, knowing how effective bullets were against humans. The vampire watched in horror as the hammer was pulled back and the girl turned around to scream. Raiden wasted no time in leaping to use his body as a shield, though not quickly enough. The trigger was pulled, and the small led projectile was launched, backed by a fiery explosion. The hammer was pulled back to fire another bullet, just as the first hit its mark- causing a red splash to form near the young girl’s stomach. Raiden was ready for the second round however, and took it square in the chest without so much as a flinch. The girl stumbled and fell behind Raiden, and Adrian lowered the gun.
“R-Raiden? What are you doing here?” Adrian exclaimed confusedly. Raiden’s nostrils flared and his exterior grew dark and grim. Adrian took a step back, realizing that Raiden’s anger was directed at him.
Raiden leapt, screaming Adrian’s name. Adrian was slammed through the glass window by Raiden, and laid crumpled on the ground across the street from the music store. Raiden grabbed him roughly by the collar, ‘helping’ him to his feet. When Adrian was up, his better thrust him face first back into the pavement. Adrian gurgled through broken and bloodied teeth for Raiden to stop, but in Raiden’s vicious rage, he could not hear him. When Raiden was done wiping the floor with his brethren, he left him in the alley of his death, and returned to the music store. All of the humans stood terrified and unspeaking. Raiden gingerly scooped up the wounded girl and carried her out in his arms, before leaping onto the rooftops to bring her back to the Enclave.
By the time Raiden returned home it was morning, and the sun was just beginning its rise into the sky. Raiden flipped his hood up to shade his face and entered the church. Lucky for him, his fellow vampires were fast asleep, and he slipped in unnoticed. “Hold on, please stay with me.” He whispered to the unconscious girl in his arms. Finally he found sanctuary in the privacy of his room. Raiden laid her on his bed and stripped her down to access the wound. The bullet hadn’t penetrated too deeply and he was able to fish it out with his claw like fingernails. He found a syringe on his desk and cleaned it with alcohol before drawing some of his own blood. The regenerative properties in it would be key for her survival. Not to mention she’d need more blood anyways- she’d bled profusely on the trip to the church.
Raiden gave her the injection in the arm and wrapped her wound. Raiden sighed deeply and laid back in his chair, watching her thoughtfully. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked softly, to no one in particular. “Rest easy…” He gave her a pat on the thigh and drifted off to sleep beside her.
Raiden’s acute hearing detected a difference in breathing, and he quickly awoke from his troubled dreams to find the girl slowly struggling to wake. “Shh…” He cooed softly, running his fingers over her head and through her hair. “You’re safe here…relax...”
The girl’s eyes flitted open and she groaned, looking around. “Where…where am I?” She asked, before taking notice of Raiden with a squeal, “Who are you!?”
Raiden put a finger to his lips, quickly coming up with a lie, “Hush, you’ll wake the other patients. Last night you were shot. Let me check the wound…” He said, holding back his emotions and acting in a very professional manner as he pulled her top up enough to see a faint scar on her stomach. His blood had done the trick. But how much had it changed the rest of her? “I need to check your gums- blood loss is easy to detect by gum coloration.” Raiden had a moment of mental panic- he had no rubber gloves! That, and his room didn’t look anything like a hospital room, but the poor girl was probably so dazed and confused as to not notice. He gently lifted her upper lip and held in a gasp. She didn’t have full blown fangs, but they were definitely noticeable. Raiden hurriedly lifted her hand- tiny, if sharp, nails, much like his own on a smaller scale, had begun to grow. Raiden sat her hand down on the bed and moved in closer over her, “I need to check your eyes.” He said softly, stealthily retracting his claws as much as possible as he opened her eye wide. To say he was stunned would have been a vast understatement.
Raiden had given his blood before; a very rare occasion as he felt that not many were worthy of the gift, but he had done it. Never had they progressed as far as the young girl had in a single night. Staring back into Raiden’s yellow irises and slit pupils were the eyes of a fellow vampire. Raiden stood up silently, unspeaking as stepped through his slovenly room to the light switch. “Tell me what you see.” He said softly, his mind swirling with worry and guilt at what he may have done to this girl. Raiden flicked down the light switch so the room was pitch black.
The girl let out a slightly startled squeak, obviously still stunned and confused. A moment later, she responded. “I see…everything. Did you turn the lights out?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and struggling to untangle herself from the mess of covers. “Ugh my head…” She moaned softly, bringing those slender fingers from her face and holding them before her for examination. Raiden closed his eyes, fearful of the girl’s reaction to her mutated body. Raiden heard a gasp, “Are these…what happened to my finger nails?”
Raiden opened his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed; hesitant at first, he opened his mouth. Although it may not do wonders for his chances with this girl, he couldn’t bear to lie to her. He’d had similar experiences in the past thousand years of his existence, and all had ended tragically. “I had to give you some of my blood to keep you alive.” He stated softly, before chuckling. He feared no one and nothing; men and machines were nothing to him, but the thought that the object of his affection could reject him more terrifying than so long ago, when he had first been bitten. The black of night, the soft pitter patter of footsteps, and the scream as teeth sunk into his neck: it was true terror. But it paled in comparison to this moment. This wasn’t a life or death situation but something far more profound- whether or not Raiden would gain someone to talk to whenever he needed it, while she would have someone whenever she needed it.
“But…” She began, quivering, “These are fangs…and claws….are you…some sort of vampire?” She asked softly, stunned into silence. Raiden just nodded, lifting his lip to reveal his curved teeth. “Oh…” The girl mumbled, before opening her mouth to scream.
Raiden leapt the bed, covering her mouth as gently as he could, “Shh…there’s no need for that, I’m not going to hurt you, honest.” He said, panicking on the inside. He’d have to do something to contain her, something that would keep her safe while at the same time preventing the other vampires from learning of the hybrid girl’s existence. “Dammit!” He thought, not liking what he was being forced to do. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, reaching inside himself and bringing his brief magical training to the front of his mind. In an instant the girl shrank to a mere four inches, sitting on the bed and letting out her scream, which amounted to a quite squeal to Raiden. “It’s for your own good!” He said, scooping her up as she pounded on his fingers, “Look: you’re a hybrid; you can’t live with humans and the other vampires won’t accept you. I know this is hard to understand, but this is an act of love!” He whispered urgently, wanting her to understand and not have a hatred for him.
The girl stopped her fighting, just hanging in his gentle grip, “Love?” she asked, remembering the trench coat wearing man who took a bullet for her, “You got shot for me?” she asked, beginning to warm up to the idea of his presence. Raiden nodded, not sure what to expect. “You saved me…twice.” She murmured, recalling that he had also donated his blood and removed the second bullet. “I’m Natasha. I’m sorry I screamed, vampire. Thank you for saving me.” Raiden let out a sigh of relief; so she wasn’t upset then! No, Natasha wasn't upset; on the contrary, she felt that she owed a great debt to Raiden. For him, she would remain silent, and see where things went.
“I’m Raiden.” He stated, flopping into bed with her tucked against his chest, “I guess we’re roommates then.” He said coolly, a smirk on his face. “And don’t mention the saving- it was worth it. However, it’s daytime, and I’m awfully tired…you wouldn’t mind me going to sleep would you, Natasha?”
Natasha blinked, before the fact that vampires didn’t like sunlight clicked in her brain, “Sleep? Um, sure.” She said, blushing. Raiden obviously intended to sleep with her against him; against his taught abs and pecks. She had to gulp from squealing in excitement. “N-night then…”
Raiden smiled, patting her gently, “Night, Natasha.”
He stood atop the skyscraper, rain pouring against him. His eyes saw his quarry clearly despite being midnight during an intense storm. She took her usual path home, running through the streets to escape the rain; having little protection from the child sized umbrella. Again he briefly considered dropping down to help her, but alas it was forbidden. Instead he watched over her carefully.
His vision jittered- time to feed. He sighed, looking away from his object of affection, and chose a target; leaping from the building. He landed gracefully without a sound, despite having fallen a huge distance. Standing, the young man spotted his target in the crowd and began the chase. A fatter, middle aged woman, who by her looks was a bitchy individual, was his target. Plenty of blood- had to be with someone that large. The man stayed close behind her, stalking silently, waiting for the right moment. At this point he was positively drenched by the rain, dripping profusely. It didn’t bother him- he liked the rain. It washed away the sins of the night before; a clean slate for a new day- or in his case, night.
Finally, the moment arrived. The streets were bare excluding him and his prey. A single streetlamp lit the path, cars of varying shapes and colors lining the roads. He sucked in a deep breath and flew towards her. Slamming into her with more strength than anyone his size could possibly possess, the woman was thrown back into the single street lamp- bending it where she hit. The light flickered out, leaving the hunter and prey in complete darkness. The man didn’t need light to see; the world around him illuminated by just the light of the moon.
Miraculously the woman survived her assault and began to scramble up. From her hand bag she pulled a small revolver, and aimed blindly in the darkness. She shrieked at him to leave her, to back away before she blew his brains out. He knew better: knew the small projectile would barely even penetrate the skin: knew it wouldn’t draw blood. In a single moment he sidestepped, grabbed the woman’s arm and broke it, and tossed the useless weapon aside. His prey howled in pain, stumbling backwards holding her arm. In yet another single movement he gripped her head in his hand and slammed the woman into a wall, pinning her there.
Despite her age and weight, the woman put up fierce resistance by normal standards, though it was no match for the young man. He pulled her cranium back to expose her neck, and bit into it. Though blood was spilt, almost all of it was consumed by him. The woman stopped resisting and began to convulse; eyes rolling back into her skull. Finished, he released her, and she slumped against the wall with a steady stream of blood coming from her neck and arm. The rain quickly mixed and distilled it, washing away down the storm drain. Not that it mattered, as the young man was untouchable.
He looked around to be certain of his solitude. Certain, he slid his fingers through the blood, and slicked back his hair, allowing a single bang to still hang in front of his face. As he began to walk away, his foot bumped the revolver. He bent and pocketed it- a spoil of his victory.
A single bolt of lightning raced through the clouds, the thunder pounding only several seconds behind it. He looked up, luminescent yellow eyes searching the angry night sky for an answer. Upon receiving no answer, he let out a sigh- it was time to move. He crouched low, tensing the muscles in his legs until they throbbed. He released and was propelled up into the air, before coming back down onto the roof of a warehouse- silently as always. From there, he sniffed the air lightly, the scent of his brethren giving him direction. He leapt again, from roof top to roof top on his journey home. Come morning the evidence of his kill would be found, bagged up, and tucked away with the other “mysterious murders”, and a note sent to any relatives that may actually give a damn. For another day at least, his and his family’s existence would remain a secret, or at the least a problem everyone suspected but didn’t want to deal with.
On the outskirts of the city he reached Old Town. The buildings were in such a state of disrepair it wasn’t even safe to leap between them. He quietly climbed down a fire-escape and entered the busy streets, filled to the brim with the poor and downtrodden of the city. He didn’t care if they saw the blood on him- they wouldn’t care either. In Old Town it was common place to be bleeding from some orifice or another.
Finally the Church stood before him; a safe haven for those such as himself. Its construction was as patchwork as the clothes on beggars’ backs, a collection of odds and ends fused together to make a whole. You could read history from the pieces used in its eternal remodeling: hallmarks from each era. He climbed the steps and reached the grandiose mismatched doors, pushing them open to reveal the large chamber behind. Based on the large puddle forming in the left corner of the room, he concluded the Church had developed yet another leak- one that would require stealing a piece of sheet metal to cover up.
Per regulation, the chamber remained empty. Other than keeping the supports in working order and the walls together, the entry chamber was constantly left in a state of disrepair, so as to put off anyone who may seek refuge there that doesn’t belong. Shutting the doors behind him, he entered and went to the farthest wall from the doors. The rubble was thickest here, nearly reaching the ceiling in some spots. From years of practice he knew exactly where to look. Shoving his arm into a seemingly ordinary pile of refuse, he grabbed the handle that would open the door to the undercroft. Hearing the click, he turned on his heel to see an opening to the underground and entered. The first tunnels of the undercroft were endlessly long and pitch black. Anyone who was supposed to be in the tunnels would have no problem seeing in the darkness. The tunnels divided and divided into a vast network, most however simply twisted back on themselves; a failsafe should any undesirables get into the undercroft.
After navigating the tunnels, the man entered another chamber, this one grand however, compared to the church it was built under. The undercroft was a bustling metropolis for his kind, with multiple districts. The first chamber was full of stalls and shops- the Market District. By human standards it was very poorly lighted, yet to the denizens it was as much light as they wanted; small, flickering torches placed on the walls every couple of feet. The metropolis was almost a socialist group- things one didn’t need were traded to those who did need it.
Slowly he navigated through the bustling crowd to a small stall that was basically empty. Working the stall was a small, scrawny individual, who looked fairly beaten and bruised. The young man pulled the revolver out of his pocket and flipped the cylinder open, revealing six unfired brass shells. He snapped it shut and set it on the counter of the stall, giving it a push back to the sleeping, bruised boy. “Here Adrian, this will give you a chance to feed. I doubt the humans will fight back with one of these in the base of their spine.”
Adrian looked up. Unlike the other vampires in the enclave, Adrian was weak. Weak to the point that other vampires had to bring him his meals. He awoke from his slumber, slowing looking up. At first he expected more ridicule, instead he saw a friendly face above him. Adrian’s gaze drifted down to the revolver. He looked back up, confused. “I…I don’t understand Raiden. Why a gun?”
The vampire known as Raiden laughed. “I just thought you’d like a chance to score a kill on your own, Adrian.” Raiden sat on his haunches, “You’ll never get stronger if you don’t learn how to hunt for yourself.”
Adrian looked at the revolver once more, extending his hand and wrapping it around the grip. A warm glow radiated from his face as Adrian realized the power he was being given. He mumbled in awe, “T-thank you…sir…I really appreciate this.” Adrian met Raiden’s eyes.
Raiden nodded in response, standing up. “Never leave one of the pack behind.” He paused before adding as he left, “Use it well- it’s only got six shots.” Quickly leaving the Market District, Raiden ascended a flight of stone steps to one of the finer sections of the enclave. He walked briskly down the darkly illuminated corridor, sliding effortlessly in between his fellows. As was his due, most got out of the way for him. Raiden continued on, passing hundreds of doors and turn-offs, before reaching yet another large set of doors, easily thirty feet high.
Raiden pushed them both open, without even slowing down or breaking a sweat. The room in front of him was lavish and spacious. Two long staircases wrapped around the sides of the room leading to an upstairs, and a hallway going deeper into the first floor extended beneath them. Without wasting time taking the stairs now that he was in the privacy of his family’s home, he leapt up to the second floor. Entering his room, he flung the trench coat on his bed, collapsing with a sigh. “Another night, another day I can’t talk to her…” He mumbled. Raiden picked up his guitar, plugging it into the amplifier. He’d gotten it from one of his meals quite awhile ago. Someone called Jimi Hendrix. Granted, the guitar was upside down and he had to learn to restring it, but he’d become quite the proficient player after nearly forty years of practice.
Raiden sat on his bed, playing for hours. During one of his inhumanly fast solos however, his high E, B, and G strings snapped. He groaned, setting the guitar aside. The only way to get strings was to go into a human shop. He’d need to find one open at night, and scrounge up the money. Raiden thought for a moment, “Yes!” Raiden cried happily as an idea entered his mind, “Yes!” And with that, he curled up in his bed, falling asleep as the morning’s rays came through his window.
The following night, Raiden awoke promptly at ten. Most stores closed at eleven, or if he was lucky twelve, but he didn’t want to push it. After getting dressed he hurried out of the enclave. Sprinting through Old Town, he jumped to the nearest and sturdiest rooftop, entering back into the profitable districts of the city. He dropped into the alley from the night before. “Thank you…” He mumbled, glad to see his prey still slumped over where he’d left her. Raiden found her purse over by the broken streetlight. Slightly covered in blood, but otherwise alright. Sifting through it, Raiden found what he needed. “Eureka!” He shouted, rather loudly, when he pulled out her big fat wallet. “This should be plenty…” Raiden dropped the purse and walked off in the direction of a music store.
A short while later Raiden found himself looking at various brands of strings in a worn down music store, with the paint peeling from the walls and outdated posters adorning nearly every flat surface there. He pulled out the wallet- this lady traveled with a lot of cash. Inside was around $100, cash. Raiden found a moderate brand of string and grabbed several packs. Raiden stepped into the line. “Humans…always waiting…why?” He mumbled, flipping the packs back and forth in his hands. A bell rang towards the front of the store- signaling the entrance of a customer. Raiden turned and his eyes widened. There, at the doorway of the store was the girl of his deepest desire. Ironic how after all this watching, she would find him. Raiden merely watched from his place in line, stupefied. Following close behind was the weak and bruised Adrian.
Raiden looked at his peer confused. “Adr-“ He stopped short when Adrian drew the revolver, pointing it at his love. “Adrian, no!” Raiden called, knowing how effective bullets were against humans. The vampire watched in horror as the hammer was pulled back and the girl turned around to scream. Raiden wasted no time in leaping to use his body as a shield, though not quickly enough. The trigger was pulled, and the small led projectile was launched, backed by a fiery explosion. The hammer was pulled back to fire another bullet, just as the first hit its mark- causing a red splash to form near the young girl’s stomach. Raiden was ready for the second round however, and took it square in the chest without so much as a flinch. The girl stumbled and fell behind Raiden, and Adrian lowered the gun.
“R-Raiden? What are you doing here?” Adrian exclaimed confusedly. Raiden’s nostrils flared and his exterior grew dark and grim. Adrian took a step back, realizing that Raiden’s anger was directed at him.
Raiden leapt, screaming Adrian’s name. Adrian was slammed through the glass window by Raiden, and laid crumpled on the ground across the street from the music store. Raiden grabbed him roughly by the collar, ‘helping’ him to his feet. When Adrian was up, his better thrust him face first back into the pavement. Adrian gurgled through broken and bloodied teeth for Raiden to stop, but in Raiden’s vicious rage, he could not hear him. When Raiden was done wiping the floor with his brethren, he left him in the alley of his death, and returned to the music store. All of the humans stood terrified and unspeaking. Raiden gingerly scooped up the wounded girl and carried her out in his arms, before leaping onto the rooftops to bring her back to the Enclave.
By the time Raiden returned home it was morning, and the sun was just beginning its rise into the sky. Raiden flipped his hood up to shade his face and entered the church. Lucky for him, his fellow vampires were fast asleep, and he slipped in unnoticed. “Hold on, please stay with me.” He whispered to the unconscious girl in his arms. Finally he found sanctuary in the privacy of his room. Raiden laid her on his bed and stripped her down to access the wound. The bullet hadn’t penetrated too deeply and he was able to fish it out with his claw like fingernails. He found a syringe on his desk and cleaned it with alcohol before drawing some of his own blood. The regenerative properties in it would be key for her survival. Not to mention she’d need more blood anyways- she’d bled profusely on the trip to the church.
Raiden gave her the injection in the arm and wrapped her wound. Raiden sighed deeply and laid back in his chair, watching her thoughtfully. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked softly, to no one in particular. “Rest easy…” He gave her a pat on the thigh and drifted off to sleep beside her.
Raiden’s acute hearing detected a difference in breathing, and he quickly awoke from his troubled dreams to find the girl slowly struggling to wake. “Shh…” He cooed softly, running his fingers over her head and through her hair. “You’re safe here…relax...”
The girl’s eyes flitted open and she groaned, looking around. “Where…where am I?” She asked, before taking notice of Raiden with a squeal, “Who are you!?”
Raiden put a finger to his lips, quickly coming up with a lie, “Hush, you’ll wake the other patients. Last night you were shot. Let me check the wound…” He said, holding back his emotions and acting in a very professional manner as he pulled her top up enough to see a faint scar on her stomach. His blood had done the trick. But how much had it changed the rest of her? “I need to check your gums- blood loss is easy to detect by gum coloration.” Raiden had a moment of mental panic- he had no rubber gloves! That, and his room didn’t look anything like a hospital room, but the poor girl was probably so dazed and confused as to not notice. He gently lifted her upper lip and held in a gasp. She didn’t have full blown fangs, but they were definitely noticeable. Raiden hurriedly lifted her hand- tiny, if sharp, nails, much like his own on a smaller scale, had begun to grow. Raiden sat her hand down on the bed and moved in closer over her, “I need to check your eyes.” He said softly, stealthily retracting his claws as much as possible as he opened her eye wide. To say he was stunned would have been a vast understatement.
Raiden had given his blood before; a very rare occasion as he felt that not many were worthy of the gift, but he had done it. Never had they progressed as far as the young girl had in a single night. Staring back into Raiden’s yellow irises and slit pupils were the eyes of a fellow vampire. Raiden stood up silently, unspeaking as stepped through his slovenly room to the light switch. “Tell me what you see.” He said softly, his mind swirling with worry and guilt at what he may have done to this girl. Raiden flicked down the light switch so the room was pitch black.
The girl let out a slightly startled squeak, obviously still stunned and confused. A moment later, she responded. “I see…everything. Did you turn the lights out?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and struggling to untangle herself from the mess of covers. “Ugh my head…” She moaned softly, bringing those slender fingers from her face and holding them before her for examination. Raiden closed his eyes, fearful of the girl’s reaction to her mutated body. Raiden heard a gasp, “Are these…what happened to my finger nails?”
Raiden opened his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed; hesitant at first, he opened his mouth. Although it may not do wonders for his chances with this girl, he couldn’t bear to lie to her. He’d had similar experiences in the past thousand years of his existence, and all had ended tragically. “I had to give you some of my blood to keep you alive.” He stated softly, before chuckling. He feared no one and nothing; men and machines were nothing to him, but the thought that the object of his affection could reject him more terrifying than so long ago, when he had first been bitten. The black of night, the soft pitter patter of footsteps, and the scream as teeth sunk into his neck: it was true terror. But it paled in comparison to this moment. This wasn’t a life or death situation but something far more profound- whether or not Raiden would gain someone to talk to whenever he needed it, while she would have someone whenever she needed it.
“But…” She began, quivering, “These are fangs…and claws….are you…some sort of vampire?” She asked softly, stunned into silence. Raiden just nodded, lifting his lip to reveal his curved teeth. “Oh…” The girl mumbled, before opening her mouth to scream.
Raiden leapt the bed, covering her mouth as gently as he could, “Shh…there’s no need for that, I’m not going to hurt you, honest.” He said, panicking on the inside. He’d have to do something to contain her, something that would keep her safe while at the same time preventing the other vampires from learning of the hybrid girl’s existence. “Dammit!” He thought, not liking what he was being forced to do. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, reaching inside himself and bringing his brief magical training to the front of his mind. In an instant the girl shrank to a mere four inches, sitting on the bed and letting out her scream, which amounted to a quite squeal to Raiden. “It’s for your own good!” He said, scooping her up as she pounded on his fingers, “Look: you’re a hybrid; you can’t live with humans and the other vampires won’t accept you. I know this is hard to understand, but this is an act of love!” He whispered urgently, wanting her to understand and not have a hatred for him.
The girl stopped her fighting, just hanging in his gentle grip, “Love?” she asked, remembering the trench coat wearing man who took a bullet for her, “You got shot for me?” she asked, beginning to warm up to the idea of his presence. Raiden nodded, not sure what to expect. “You saved me…twice.” She murmured, recalling that he had also donated his blood and removed the second bullet. “I’m Natasha. I’m sorry I screamed, vampire. Thank you for saving me.” Raiden let out a sigh of relief; so she wasn’t upset then! No, Natasha wasn't upset; on the contrary, she felt that she owed a great debt to Raiden. For him, she would remain silent, and see where things went.
“I’m Raiden.” He stated, flopping into bed with her tucked against his chest, “I guess we’re roommates then.” He said coolly, a smirk on his face. “And don’t mention the saving- it was worth it. However, it’s daytime, and I’m awfully tired…you wouldn’t mind me going to sleep would you, Natasha?”
Natasha blinked, before the fact that vampires didn’t like sunlight clicked in her brain, “Sleep? Um, sure.” She said, blushing. Raiden obviously intended to sleep with her against him; against his taught abs and pecks. She had to gulp from squealing in excitement. “N-night then…”
Raiden smiled, patting her gently, “Night, Natasha.”
!!!!
