Honest in Lies

“How did this even happen to you?” she whispered, wetting a washcloth and grimacing at his site.

He rolled his eyes pettily, grapping it from her hand and dampening it over his neck wound. “You wouldn’t believe me if I actually did tell you.”

Candy’s eyes stayed transfixed on the wet cloth, watching to see how bad the source of his wound was. Would she need to call 911? Would they question her? Would they think she had been an accomplice in this? “Try me,” she finally replied finally pulling her eyes from his neck.

He was staring at her intently, with those indescribably light eyes. A flush crawled on her neck, as their eyes stayed locked on each other. “You wouldn’t.” he handed her the washcloth, which she disgustingly threw in the sink and grabbed a paper towel that would have to double as a gauze.

She handed it to him, trying not to touch the blood. Who knew what was wrong, or what diseases he could have had. “Then you don’t know me at all, but of course you don’t because you’re an injured stranger. But if you knew me on a personal basis, that I do actually believe…some farfetched things.” Candy leaned back on the counter, arms crossed.

The man had taped the paper towel over his neck somehow, standing so that he towered over her. “That is for me to keep to myself then. Who knows what you’d tell to others.” He began to move towards the door.

“Hey!” she exclaimed for the second time that day. “You can’t just tell me that and leave!”

she moved so that she blocked the door, her crossed arms bumping him on the chest. “So, open your yap and start yapping.”

Her determination to get him to speak must have surprised the man, because he blinked slowly at her before sighing outwardly through his nose. “You’re not going to stop until I tell you, aren’t you?”

“Exactly.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, before widening in sudden revelation. “My name is Gaspard.” He tried to move past her.

She prodded him sharply with her finger. “And how did you get that wound?”

“A werewolf bit me.”

Candy felt her body numb instantly. She laughed, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t be silly. There is no such thing as a werewolf.” She laughed a little tauntingly.

His eyes narrowed as he bent his head down to her again. Gaspard’s eyes were gleaming with something that she had never seen before. Something animalistic and untamed. “Who said I was a werewolf? What if I’m something entirely different?”

Candy was starting to sense that there was indeed, something off about this Gaspard fellow. “then what are you?” she whispered out.

“A vampire,” he hissed out lowly.

Suddenly, he was in front of her, arms on either side of her and pinned to the back of a wall. She was scared, admittedly. A short cry came from her, shut off by his hand clasped over her mouth. Candy shook her head by the short amount she could, praying that he didn’t do anything to her. Gaspard’s lips pulled back to reveal a very pointy and filed set of teeth; all that resembled more of a fang than a normal tooth. Candy hadn’t remembered seeing that when she had rescued him. She tried to move back further, only to realize she was pressed up against as far as she could.

“Now do you believe me?” Gaspard asked, as his lips turned back to a perfect row before her very eyes.

She nodded, unable to form anything else from the dryness of her mouth.

“Good. Then you know and understand why I can’t stay here.”

“Wait,” she said with a sudden burst of courage. “You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because whatever is, uh, whatever did that to you might still be after you! And you’re in no condition to go out there, and you could die!”

He turned around to her, looking up her and down with close inspection. His nose twitched almost delightfully, before settling into a frown again. “I’ll spend the day. I need rest.”