Dream Catcher (Jesse Fforde)

[Angelique (DELETED 4907)]

Quote:
ooc: Angelique has already been changed in game but for her development, I need a siring thread.


She left. Left a world that was unknown to her, she had no part to play in that world anymore, her life was changing and everyone around her kept on leaving. She knew that if she were to stay then it would all go horribly wrong for her and her family, she loved them dearly but she could no longer live a lie. She left that ring on the pillow next to him with a note saying how much she loved him but could no longer be his wife, could no longer go on living the life he had built for her. She left in the very early hours of the morning to catch a bus out of the city to anywhere but there. No one spoke to her while she rode the seven hour journey, the other passengers were on that bus for the same reasons as she was, to get away. Would she miss him? Of course she would, would her family ever understand? Of course they wouldn't, she was bringing dishonour on there name by leaving but she couldn't marry a man who would raise his hand to her.

“Last stop!”

The bus driver due her attention away from the window and she watched as the remaining passengers got up and grabbed their bags from the overhead compartments and then leave the bus. She had no idea where she had arrived to or let alone what she was going to do now. Gabbing her all but two bags, a handbag and a backpack she exited the bus and entered the almost pitch black bus station, the only lights around where the bus lights headlights and a couple of street lamps. It was eerie and quiet, shadows danced in corner streets and the only mumbles of voices were that of the passengers as they grabbed the rest of their bags and walked off into the night.

“Excuse me sir, but where are we?” Her voice was almost a whisper as her fear choked up inside her throat. “Eh... Let me see.” The driver pulled out a piece of folded up A4 paper with a long list of names and stops. “It says here this is Harper Rock. That's all I know miss.”

She had never heard of the city before, it was as if it was covered by the shadows so it was hid from the world, nevertheless she decided the best place to go now was to find a motel to rent a room from, in the morning she could look around and find some information and get started on her new life here. It took around twenty minutes or so for her to find a motel with an available room, it seemed the city had a lot of tourists, that or everyone was cheating on their partners as almost every room was booked out. Her room wasn't very pleasant but it would do for the time being, the tap water was slightly brown, the shower curtain had spots of blood on it and the bed was something to be desired however as soon as her head hit that pillow she was out like a light.

She's not sure what time she was woken up but the sound of a scream pierced her ears and the sound of smashing glass and trash cans disturbed the silent air. Peaking out from her window on the ground floor she didn't see anything going on until there was a loud bang and yet another scream from the room next to hers and curiosity got the best of her as she opened the front door, upon seeing something walk out of the room. It was a man all dressed in black, his hair was slightly covering part of his face and she could see something dripping from his mouth. She just stared at him for what seemed to be an eternity, her eye line was only destroyed when he began walking towards her, his smile glittering in the low light above her door.

“You looking for some fun too are you dear?” His voice was husky, seductive and she swayed a little when she looked up at him. He was handsome as he licked his lips and smiled a half smile. “No... I... What happened in there?” Her voice was broken, fear becoming her main emotion. “Oh that, don't worry. Now you going to invite me in and we can take this to another level?”

Why would she invite him in? Why would it even cross her mind to say yes to a complete stranger? But his eyes, it was as if he was looking deep into her soul, she leaned more out the door to him uncontrollably, it felt as if her body was no longer her own.

“Eh... Yes...Of course...Come in.” Her instincts screamed at her, what was she doing! What she was saying? Was this just the call of a young lonely women?

He smiled yet another smile and brought an arm tightly around her small waist as he pushed his way inside the room, as he took in her scent he sighed out in relief, she smelt of flowers and red wine. She was motionless, her body frozen with his quick movements and then within seconds he was kissing her passionately, like he was hungry for more then just a good night. His lips pulled away from hers and made their way across her jawline and then down her neck, she gave out a small breathe but before her brain could process what was going on, he had bite into her neck hard. Her eyes widened in the pain he was causing all of a sudden and with a loud pitching scream she could feel her body begin to fall.

[Jesse Fforde]

The bus station is always a good place to prey upon unsuspecting meals. If you pay close attention, you can figure out who’s coming home, and who’s coming to visit. You can sit and wait for all those to disperse who had relatives waiting for them—those who have people who care for them are not the ones you want to kill. They’re the ones who’ll be immediately missed. I’m not normally so careful. I don’t normally put this much thought into who I feed on, where, or why. But through trial and error—mostly error, and one absolute win where Abigail is concerned—I’ve realised that I cannot feed and allow my victim to live. They remember everything. Whatever magic I may have had in the beginning, whatever magic that other vampires seem to possess that allows them to feed, not kill, and have their victims forget, I don’t have it anymore.

Maybe it’s bad karma for my lack of care. My lack of guilt. Given recent realisations, I know I’ve got far too much guilt in me from my childhood to be able to exhibit any more. Or maybe there isn’t any explanation beyond the fact that I simply do not care. That I have climbed my way up the food chain, and that I cannot help who I am or what I do. I am in complete acceptance of the state of things. Does a shark feel guilty for devouring a seal? No. Sharks don’t have souls, you say. But humans do, do they? Majority of the human race shows no guilt consuming steak, or fish, or whatever. It’s just the way the world works.

Anyway. The Crow seems to have been weakened, near broken. The city alert level is too high. If there is something that I have come to care about, it’s the tenets as set out by Tytonidae. Bounties have gone haywire. Too many people are suspicious. And I need to be more careful. That’s why I find myself at the bus station, watching everyone as they exit the buses, choosing my victims carefully. Choosing the ones who won’t be missed. Not right away, anyway.

A guy, mid-twenties—tanned skin, mussed hair, dark eyes. He looks foreign. And I bet he is, what with the over-large pack on his back. A backpacker, by himself. He lingers, after everyone else has left. He’s scrutinizing the timetable, glancing every now and again at a tattered map. He then wanders into the terminal, where there’s a public toilet. I follow him inside. There’s no one else around. Perfect. He discards his pack by the door as he enters one of the stalls. Before he can lock the door I wrench it open. I join him in the stall. He starts to stammer in protest, but before he can even utter a single word I’ve ripped into his neck. He’s too shocked to scream. I drink hastily, pulling the blood from him in long, hungry gulps. For this one precious minute, my hunger is slated. It never goes away. It’s an ever-present irritant, tickling the back of my throat. Only when I am feeding does it go away.

When I pull away, the wound on the guy’s neck heals. Just in case he is not already dead from severe blood loss, I wrench his head up and to the side. There’s a satisfying crack as his neck snaps. Dead. I leave him on the toilet, lock the door, and scramble over the top to get out. For hours, people will assume the cubicle is simply occupied. This has been my haunting ground for the past couple of nights—I’ve made certain that this particular bus station does not have any cameras.

It’s as I exit the bathrooms that another bus arrives. It spills its contents out into the night. The last to exit is a woman—tall, lithe. Alone. Probably a better meal than the one I’ve just consumed. She looks like she probably tastes delicious. Although the insatiable hunger still plagues me, there are other lingerers, too. If I want to feed on this one, I’ll have to follow her…

… and so I do. I follow her to a motel. A dingy old motel. She could have done better. I want to lure her into some dark alcove, somewhere, and fully intend to do so, only to be interrupted by my phone. Velveteen. Tytonidae hunting. Well, ****. I reckon the woman will still be at the hotel later on. I’ll come back. She can be my reward, after a long night of hunting.

It’s a few hours later that I do return. Most of the rooms are dark, and quiet. I approach the door of the room within which I know my prey to be staying. Except when I get there, the door is wide open. The scent of blood is strong. I frown. Right there, over near the bed, is another vampire, slurping at the woman I wanted for myself. Well, double ****.

I might have gone in to have some fun – to maim him, and take the rest of her blood. But somehow, now, she seems tainted. I keep my hands shoved into my pockets, watching, leaning against the door frame. There’s something voyeuristically satisfying, watching other vampires feed.

[Angelique (DELETED 4907)]

Angelique could feel her body begin to weaken in his arms as she heard the noise of him drinking her life force. She was powerless to stop him and yet she felt the urge to fight and as her body ached even more with the amount of pain he was causing her, he finally let go and Angelique's body fell backwards, hitting her head smack bang on the floor.

“I'm afraid we have company.”

Angelique's hearing sounded muffled as if she were wearing headphones, her vision blurred and her breathe slow. She thought that her journey was already coming to an end, she had reached this point before and the only reason she survived was a friend caught her ex as he tried to beat Angelique nearly to death. She felt every breathe causing her immense amounts of pain, she wanted to cry out for help but the fear was causing a blockage in her vocal cords, she knew he would be back to finish whatever he had started, no matter how much company he had.

“Its rude to watch people eat.”

His voice yet again but this time it felt as if he was out of the room and Angelique then she needed to escape, her body beginning to pulse with adrenaline. She might not make it far but she knew she had to at least fight for her life. In the bathroom was a small window, it would be a squeeze but she hoped she could fit her small frame through it and then try and run. She began by turning herself on to her front, crawling as fast as she could she made it to the bathroom and hoisted herself up using the bath and pulled herself to her knees. Blood began rushing through her ears and her vision yet again became fuzzy, almost as if she were too faint. Shaking her head she told herself to breathe and keep trying to get away, finally she managed to get to her feet and then lifted herself up onto the toilet and used the back of it as a stool to push open the window.

Foot steps started to be heard entering the bedroom, she had to be quick if she was to get away. Using all her strength she got out of the bathroom window and landed hard onto the concrete floor behind the motel room, scrapping her knee and slicing open her elbow she could hear loud bangs coming from behind her as she hobbled away from the motel. As quickly as she could she raced to be back in a busy street, in the public eye but of course it was so late in the night no one would be around.

She finally made it to the corner of the street and looked behind her, she hadn't been followed yet but she knew he wouldn't be far behind, a predator never leaves his pray.

[ ooc: Angelique is bleeding an awful lot, she has an open wound on her neck and now one on her elbow ]

[Jesse Fforde]

I’m not at all concerned about what’s rude and what’s not. If the guy had wanted some privacy, he’d not be going about his feeding in such a public fashion. The door is wide open, and I could be another human. I could be a hunter, for all he knows. Maybe it is a flimsy break of the Masquerade, but it is a break nonetheless. Maybe I just like any excuse to slaughter a person, but I’ll work under the assumption that this guy has gone rogue and needs to be put down. Vampires are always a little more challenging than any other of the foes that I go up against. They have the same kind of strength and agility, the same kind of power. It all depends on how long they’ve been around, or who they have on their side.

See, as much as I hate the skinny, red-headed banshee now, Phoenix was a good sire to me, in the beginning. She taught what I needed to know, and she introduced me to Tytonidae. Since then, I suppose it’s been the faction that has collectively become my mentor; those within it teaching me, whether they know they’re doing it or not, how to become a better creature of the night. I have a whole group of people around me who support me, who allow me to flourish. Of course I’ll never put it quite that way in front of anyone. It’s far too mushy and sentimental, and might be seen as a weakness. But, nonetheless, there could be vampires out there who have been this way for just as long or longer, but without the people around to support and teach them, they may as well only be a week old.

I have a feeling, as soon as he lunges toward me, that’s the case with this dickhead.

He has no weapons on him, and presumes he can get the better of me with his bare hands. Although we scrap like two men in a bar for a couple of minutes, soon it becomes entirely obvious that we are not human. I manage to crack his skill, for example, with just my knee. It ought to have done my knee harm, but it hasn’t. It’s taking far too long to get the better of him with bare hands, though, and I can see that the human has tried for her escape. She cannot be allowed to reach the public. She has seen too much.

I am still armed from the recent hunt with Tytonidae. Tucked against my back is the St James Broadsword, which I brandish now, in front of my foe. His eyes widen, but he’s a cocky ********. He still thinks he can get the better of me. With one swift, strong lunge, and another couple of healthy strikes, I hack off the guy’s leg. It’s only when he starts screaming in pain that I bring the blade down over his neck, beheading him. Silence falls—silence, all except for a scrabbling emanating from the bathroom.

I walk in to investigate, only to see the woman’s legs disappear out the window. I have to admire her for her tenacity, I suppose. That she should find the energy to escape, when…maybe she hasn’t lost as much blood as I previously assumed she had.

I sheath the sword, and rather than follow her out of the window—which is probably too small for me anyway, I go back through the hotel room. I lock the door and close it behind me. Not that anything much will be found. The vampire’s body has already started to disperse into ash, one slow limb at a time. I pick up the pace, jogging down the length of rooms until I turn a corner onto the street. I need to find the exit from which the woman will appear. I slowly approach the alleyway into which the hotel windows spill. There are two possible directions she could have gone in, and it must be my lucky day.

There she is, closing in on the corner of the street, looking behind her as if she expects someone to come from behind, rather than from in front. Using the element of surprise, I reach forward and cover her mouth with my hand. I drag her back into the darkness of the alleyway. When I push her up against the wall, though, I’m not rough. I remember why I followed her. I remember the reasons why I was drawn back. I wanted to taste her, but now… my gaze drifts over the planes of her face, now haggard and white from loss of blood, dark circles beneath her eyes. There’s an urge, deep down, to bring her back to the way she was. She’s already lost enough blood, and I do not feel like finishing off another man’s meal. I should just break her neck. I should consider it a loss, and get on with my life. As I hold her still I consider my options, head tilted to the side, watching her as if trying to gauge what kind of person she might be.

What kind of vampire she might make.

I remember the way it felt with the rest of them. With Felicity, first, and with Axel, Abigail, and Ishaq. The bond created when siring, when creating a new vampire. It’s almost as addictive—no, it’s more addictive—than the taste of blood. It’s something deeper, something far more profound.

I don’t stop to think much more about it. I let go of the woman only long enough to rip a gash in my own wrist, and to hold the wound to her lips. I never ask whether it’s something that they want, or don’t want. I never give them a choice, not really. It’s far too tedious a process when one doesn’t have a voice to ask with.