Fireflies.

I awoke screaming, sitting bolt upright in the vast expanse of my bed, my entire body ached, I wanted it so bad. I pull at the sheets, as they've become intangled around me. Finally I get them free and I let them slide from me as I raked my hands through me long locks, unable to shake the emotions that coursed through my veins. I loathed this feeling, this deep sense of want that went past that and became a need. I didn’t need, and this sense of it was beyond frustrating. I shoved the sheets back and groaned as I knew it would be a while before the feelings faded, the dream haunted me night after night. As I looked at the plain, industrial calendar on the wall I realise it was three months tonight, three months since I crossed paths with the king of evil, the father of darkness. Eric, Eric Ambrotos to be exact and the star in the fucked up dreams that leave me screaming night after night for more reasons than one.

I shoved the dreams contents away, doing my best to bury every single detail from my mind. I refused to think about it, to even acknowledge it. Sometime it worked, although most times it didn't. This dream was like nothing else, you know the way most dreams work. You can never remember how it begins, you just find yourself in the middle of this scene with no recollection of how you got there. I knew exactly where this dream began, I knew each scene off by heart and I new the end just as well. Which is again frustrating, as this is the one dream I would give anything to forget.

I slide my legs off the bed and brace them against the floor as I bury my face in my hands. This messed up attraction carries disastrous consequences, if anyone was to find out, it could cost a lot more than my job. My line of work is a little different than most, and Eric is first on the most wanted list, the one my associates and I are in charge of keeping in check. I reach across to my bedside table, my fingertips brushing against the smooth wood before they wrap around the hilt of the elegant yet deadly blade, a dangerous smile playing on my lips as its time. With the weight of the blade comes the familiar dull ache in my chest, the ache over the past and for what the future may hold. I flick my eyes to the darkened city and back to the blade knowing that its time. Time to do what I do best, hunting.