#2: Skin DeepA Chapter by BryttDesmond and Angie's meeting from Desmond's perspective
Going out in daylight is risky business. The UV rays would kill us if they but
touched our skin. The reflection off of the moon is enough to burn us. That is
why, when I found myself in an alley as the sun was coming up, I had to quickly
find a way to a safe house, which is not easy to do when you cannot set foot in
sunshine. I peeked out of the shadows to see if anyone was coming.
Already, the street was bustling. I watched people move in the light, carefree and safe, for the time. I ducked through the back door to a dark steel building next to the alley. How fortunate, it was a used clothing store. I had stumbled into the old Halloween costumes section. I checked my pocket and found three dollars. What was I supposed to do with three dollars? More importantly, where was the fifty I had the night before? I looked through the costumes for something to cover up with. Large hat, five dollars; cape, two dollars; getting home alive, priceless. It would have to do. If I waited too long, my family would wonder where I had gone, and I was not about to be the beginning of another vampire war. I paid for my cape and threw it on. It even had a hood: bonus points! I knew it was out of date and kind of creepy, but life won the fight over honor. I really am not picky, few vampires are. The only one I can actually name is Al. Out of the sun, I adjusted my clothing to cover every inch of skin and, with a deep breath that I did not need, stepped out into the world. If I had a dime for every little kid that pointed at me, I could have bought the hat. I was so sick of hearing, "Oh, Mommy, look at the freak" that I was ready to kill some brats. I so hate children. Now, that is not to say that I was not a "good boy" the entire time. I did stop for some Mexican in an alley near the safe house. You cannot blame me; I was hungry. Besides, even if he had screamed, it would have been Spanish, in which case, who cares? I was humane with him. I snapped his neck nicely and quickly so that he would not even turn. I was still a fledgling myself, only about a century old. My master would have been upset if I had brought home another mouth to feed. So I dumped the body effortlessly into a dumpster. No one would even notice. It was just a human. I was a vampire, right? This was part of my life. I covered him up with some trash so that some passing dish boy did not find him. He would be gone soon. Meanwhile, I was nearly to the safe house. Promise you will refrain from screaming? I slipped like water into the cemetery. I was practically home free. The safe house was near the edge of the field. Where, for some reason, about thirty people were gathered. I hate when we get new arrivals. There was no way for me to get inside of the tomb when a crowd was standing ten feet from it. Thank you, vampire powers. I misted and rose up into the air. Oh, "misting" is when a vampire loses its solidity and turns into water vapor. After all, most of the body is water, right? Anyway, I did that and reformed when I reached a high branch, one that was shaded, but still out of sight. "Did you see that?" I stiffened. "See what?" "I thought there was a fog or something over there." "It's a cemetery. There's fog." I peeked through the oak leaves to look at the crowd. Two people turned back to the group, away from where I had just been. I smirked, glad that the humans were so intellectually inferior to my kind. On the other hand, the prolonged exposure to sunlight was beginning to blot out my ultraviolet sight. I rubbed my eyes, hoping to get some of the bright white spots out, but I only made it worse. I have to say, there is nothing quite like being stuck blinded in a tree, waiting for the funeral service to end so that the mourners leave the cemetery. Why had the others failed to consider burials in their brilliant plot to find privacy? I leaned against the bulk of the great oak, prepared to wait out the humans. I woke nearly two hours later to something prodding my shoulder. I peeked over to see none other than Al. Granted, I would have preferred one of the others, but a brother was a brother, none more devoted than Al. After all, Al was the genius who had suggested drinking donor blood. He had been following his new diet strictly for the past six years at that time. "Are you well, Brother?" He asked me. "Alucard," I breathed, "how-" "I am glad to see you… alive? Hmm, no, not alive…" I chuckled, "Dead, rather." "Well, I am glad that you can still move without help. The coast is clear. Get to the safe house, and I will tell Father that you are… Well, breathing, I suppose," Alucard told me. Oh, yes, that is his name. Alucard in the flesh, son of my master, the Great Count. If I must explain further, you have no brain and should stop trying to read this, you mindless buffoon. So I took Al's advice, climbed down the tree, checked and double checked my coverings and moved over to the tomb. Using my superior strength, I pushed open the door and entered. Safe, for the time, I pulled the cape off. I examined my body for some clue as to the occurrences of the previous night. I found a moon burn on my left arm, but nothing serious. I checked my pockets, but found only my remaining change from my earlier purchase and a small note. "Play fair, infant, or die." That was comforting. I was not an infant. In fact, I was nearing initiation. Apparently, someone disagreed. Well, that was for another time. In the meantime, I waited for sunset. I had no watch, so I had to judge by the slim glimmer of light that crept in through a crack in the wall, which I avoided. Invisible to the human eye, this crack was designed for the purpose which I had given it that day. At least some of my relatives had intelligence. When all traces of the day-star had vanished from the tomb and I was confident that it was safe, I pushed open the vault's door and left the tomb. And who else would be outside than the girl I had stalked nearly a month ago? She was standing near the fresh grave that I had witnessed being made earlier. I dashed over to her. I was sick of this. "Hey, what are you doing here?" She blinked up at me, tears in her eyes. "My grammy…" she said. I noticed her looking past me at the safe house. "Did you just-?" she began. "That's not your business," I snapped. "What kind of girl comes to a graveyard at night?" "That's not your business," she shot back, whether mockingly or serious, I am not sure. Then the obvious question: "Aren't you afraid of monster's, girl?" She laughed at me. "That's crazy talk. Who believes in monsters but babies?" "What are you doing here?" I asked again. She pointed at the grave and told me, "I couldn't come earlier. Too much sadness." "Your grandma?" "Yeah." "Get out of here." She looked at me like a nutcase. I am not a nutcase. "Why are you dressed like that? You look like my grandpa." I was taken aback. I touched my cloak. I would have killed her if I had not been full from lunch still. As it was, her death would only have drawn attention to my family. I was not prepared to move again due to an attitude problem. Instead, I touched her shoulder. "Come back tomorrow. She'll still be here, I promise." That girl got a bright look on her face, as though her brain was finally beginning to function. Well, there is a first time for everything. "Sounds good. Actually," she said, "I'll bring you something. I just got an idea!" She ran out of the gated community before I could speak again. I said the old lady would be here, not me. Idiots should be hung by their ankles, I swear. It is the only way to get blood to the poor brains they have. Shaking my head, I made my way back to my family. They were all the way across the city, so I ran. Who was going to notice me, a simple blur, when they had all of New York to observe? Besides, I was ready to sleep myself. © 2011 BryttAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorBryttBritt, IAAboutQuotes From the Innermost Circle of the Fantasy World Known as My Mind: Irony: the graduation quote at my high school has been "Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path .. more..Writing
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