When Darkness Plagues Our Bond

The man swiftly turned around, and began to cackle.

“Didn’t they teach pretty girls such as yourself not to walk into dark alleys alone?”

He advanced towards me, slowly raising his gun towards my head.

“Now, you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say.” He ordered, standing no more than a few centimeters from my face.

It was now my turn to laugh.

Before he could blink I had removed the gun from his hand, and pinned him to the wall. My hand enclosed around his throat, fingernails digging into his greasy skin. I watched in amusement as trickles of blood trailed down his neck. His eyes were wide open, full of terror.

“Didn’t they ever teach you not to bring a gun to a fang fight?” I scolded.

I plunged my teeth into his neck, not caring to lessen the pain as I normally did with my victims. He screamed his lungs out, lashing against my inhuman strength.

“Please! Don’t kill me! Someone save me!” His pleas were soon silenced by his growing loss of blood. Feeling his body go limp underneath my hold, I released him.

The impact of his body hitting the ground echoed through out the alley. Lying dead on the cement, I stared at him with no regrets. He had harmed my human, and probably would have left Brendon to die in this cold alleyway. Before I could lose control of my anger once more, I left the criminal’s lifeless body.

Turning to face Brendon, who still lay unconscious, I saw that his wound was still bleeding. By the amount of blood pouring from the injury, I presumed that he would have irreparable damage. Knowing what I had to do, I quickly straddled his lap, positioning his head upright. My heart ached at his limp body. He appeared so helpless and weak. His face pale, reminding me of a porcelain doll.

Not forgetting the task at hand, I sunk my fangs into my wrist, and allowed the blood to flow out of my veins and into Brendon’s opened forehead. The wound started to close, and I moved the location of my wrist to his slightly parted lips. In order for him to regenerate his blood quickly enough to be undamaged, he had to drink some of mine.

My insides clenched as I felt his hand rise and clench onto my arm, brining it closer to his mouth. His eyes, still unopened, were fluttering ever so lightly. I could feel his heartbeat pick up pace, thudding faster and faster against his chest.

Once I began to feel dizzy, I pulled my wrist away. I lifted Brendon’s comatose body and cradled him in my arms. With a contented sigh at the contact, I stared adoringly at his now peaceful face.

Not wanting to be seen, I ran at full speed through alleyways, back streets, and rooftops to reach his home. Having to climb the wall of the apartment complex, I threw him over my shoulder and checked my grip to be sure he wouldn’t slip off. Luckily, his window wasn’t to difficult to open from the outside. Sliding the glass up with enough strength to force it open, I gently hopped inside.

Brendon’s bedroom was quite opposite from mine. His walls, painted a dark red, held many modern art paintings. An armoire placed across from his bed, a dark oak dresser to match beneath the window, and two bedside tables sitting beside each side of his queen sized bed. If I hadn’t already known, I would have guessed he’d hired a professional decorator. But I knew well that he spent most of his first nights in the apartment working on the room, with limited help from his friend Ryan.

Laying Brendon on top of the cotton comforter, I hastily joined him. There was dried blood trailing from where the wound had been, to the end of his neck. Before I could comprehend the delicious scent that had made it’s way into my nostrils, I was licking the blood clean from his skin.

I savored the taste, it was the sweetest blood that had ever touched my mouth. I knew this was because he was my human, but I couldn’t even begin to grasp the taste. I could start to feel the bloodlust rise. Shivers made there way up my spine, and I had to stop what I was doing to control my impulses. If I bit him I wouldn’t be able to stop the urge of draining him dry. This feeling was something I would need to learn to control.

Keeping myself from the temptation to feed off of him, I left to find a rag to finish cleaning off the blood. I wandered around the house until I found the door to the bathroom. I switched the light on, only to switch it back off.

“Florescent lighting.” I groaned, covering my eyes.

Reaching my hands out to where I knew the towel rack hung, I grabbed the first terry-clothed material I touched. Needing to dampen the rag, I thrust it underneath the sink and turned on the faucet.

Returning to the bedroom with the now wet cloth, I hurried to Brendon’s side. As soft as possible I brought the rag to his face and began to remove the last of the dried blood. I hadn’t thought of the possibility of him waking, so when he began to stir I snapped my arm back to my side in a panic. If he saw me everything would be ruined.

Luckily he had only turned over and fell back into a peaceful slumber.

Catching my breath, I decided it was for the best that I left. I couldn’t risk staying any longer.

Leaving two Advils and a glass of water on his bedside table as the only proof of my being here, I kissed his forehead and whispered my goodbyes.