All Hope Is Gone

I felt my heart clench. In shock, I lifted my hand to my chest and tried to feel if I had a heartbeat. I hadn't had a heartbeat since I was changed. My heart didn't need to pulse since my blood flowed on it's own. So when I had died that night, so had my heart.
"G-go away!"
I lifted my eyes back up to the man on the ground. His eyes sent the same bolt of electricity through me and my heart contracted again. What was going on?
He was a young guy, maybe around thirty years old. A crop of blonde hair decorated his head under a black beanie hat. A blooming bruise ran down his cheek and his bottom lip was busted. It was his eyes that were stunning though. The color of the sky right before dawn was captured in them. A black eyes was starting to show around the right one, and they were both currently looking at me in fear.
As I stared, I could see that they were also bloodshot. I took a step closer and he attempted to move away, his arms moving sluggishly as he tried to stand up. I took notice to his foot which was twisted at an odd angle. The muggers must have really taken a toll on him. I took another step, going around one of the bodies. His eyes followed my movements.
I crouched down so I was eye level to him. "I'm not going to hurt you." My words didn't have any effect. I could smell the alcohol on him. He was probably still a little inebriated. It explained why he was walking around at this time of night. Only an intoxicated person would dare walk around in Central Park at night. He was dressed in a heavy black coat, but he was still shivering from the cold.
"H-how do I know that?", he asked. His voice was deep and had a raspy edge to it. "I just saw you tear those two guys apart. . ." He drifted off, but I understood what he was insinuating. I could easily do the same thing to him.
And I probably should. He was a witness to murder and could easily give the police a description of me. I had ways to get out of New York if something like that was to happen. But I'd rather not have to move, I'd grown fond of New York City.
But this human had made my heart beat, something that should be impossible. Dead tissue wasn't supposed to move. Plus, I had saved him from being mugged and probably murdered, though I had done it indirectly.
I looked back at him and he was staring at me, waiting to see what I was going to do.
I shrugged, "I guess you'll just have to trust me."
He snorted. "You're kidding right?"
My face showed no emotion. "No, I won't harm you in any way, I promise. May I look at your foot?"
If he couldn't stand then I'd either have to leave him out here or help him move somewhere. I'd rather not leave him though. There were others of my kind out, and he'd be a meal in minutes once my presence was gone.
I waited for him to give me permission before moving closer. His eyes showed his distrust and fear of me, but he still nodded.
I walked over, sat down, and slowly pulled his leg closer to me. He grimaced when I jolted his injury by accident. I pulled up his pant leg and put my hand on his ankle. He sighed in relief. My hands were cold and it probably felt good on his swollen joint. Then I started feeling it out, trying to see if any of the bones were broken. A pained expression graced his features.
"Damn assholes. They stomped on it a few times. . .", he breathed. I let go of it and he relaxed.
"It's just twisted, can you try and stand?" He nodded and moved into a kneeling position before trying to stand. He made it, and tried to walk, but could hardly put any pressure on his ankle. I slipped an arm under his armpit and held him up.
He was a muscular guy, but I was taller than him by a couple inches. He flinched at my touch but didn't move away. He glanced at my body and I realized that I was covered in blood.
"Sorry." I didn't know why I was apologizing but it slipped out anyway. He gave a shaky grin. Then he twisted his head around to look at the bodies.
"What are you going to do about them?", he asked, his eyes showing curiosity. I started moving and he followed, hopping along on one leg.
"Nothing, the police will find them in the morning." I replied. Being this close to his body heat and scent was making my mouth water, even though I had just fed. It was a primal instinct to chase prey, and though he wasn't running, the trigger was still being pressed slightly.
At the same time, the organ in my chest was still giving slightly pulses now and then.
"Won't they find out it was you?", he asked, a little out of breath. I was leading him out of the park. I'd leave him on a bench somewhere near the entrance. After that, he was on his own.
"No, they never do." I grinned in sudden amusement. I must have looked mad, grinning at the action of killing someone and getting away with it. He shivered and his face looked troubled.
We made it to the entrance and I sat him down on a bench. He leaned back against it and sighed.
"I suggest you call someone to pick you up. A trip to the hospital wouldn't be a bad idea either." I told him. Then I started walking away. I planned to wait around in a tree or something until I saw someone pick him up. It was still dangerous to be out, even if he wasn't in the park anymore.
"Hold up!" His shout made me stop and turn around. I looked at him questioningly.
"Listen, I just wanted to thank you. For saving me and not killing me ya know?" He looked reluctantly at me, but his voice sounded sincere.
I smiled at him. "Your welcome."
"What's your name?", he asked me. I gazed at him warily.
"Why do you want to know?", I asked, my voice edgy. He held up his hands in a calming manner. "I'm not going to report you to the police or anything, I promise. I just want to know your name. Mine's Corey Taylor."
He seemed to be honest about not going to the police so I answered truthfully.
"Mine's Delilah." I replied. In a second I was gone. I had jumped up and onto one of the branches of the tree that was above us. I darted from one branch to another until I was a far distance away. I could still see him sitting on the bench, but he couldn't see me.
After trying to find me in the mass of tree branches, he gave up and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. I watched as he spoke into it and then put it away.
After a little while, a car pulled up to the curb and a man came out to help Corey get into the car. And then they were gone.
Pity. Now that he was gone, and I was sitting alone in a tree branch again, I found that I would have liked to chat with him a little more.