She's not there [Micah]

[Rion]

Death was such an interesting thing. It could creep along slowly and hunt life in the dark, or it could be upon a person before they could so much as bat a lash. It took the breath from your lungs, the light from your eyes and stilled your beating heart. It embraced you safely, and there was no return from it. It wasn’t something that you could just hand back with a gift receipt. It was permanent – or so she had thought. In a few months, everything she had known had been wiped clean. Death was even more fascinating to her now.

And it was her turn to face it.

There was no way around it. She wasn’t frightened by the thought like she should have been, either. Instead, it settled in her heart like a comforting blanket. There was something about the knowledge that seemed… right… to her. Ever since she had lost her mother, she’d struggled through life. It was one uphill battle after the other, and soon it would end – though not without a fight. With her arms by her side and the soles of her converse slamming against the marble of the morgue, she ran. She hadn’t bothered to look behind her to see if he was following her – she knew he was. It was the same certain knowledge that her death was. Where she was to go, he would follow.

He was like her shadow, his large frame on her heels as she rushed through the halls. She had committed the pathways to memory, so even in the dark, she was able to make her way through without an issue. That was the first mistake in so many of those cheap horror films. The dumb ***** that went where she shouldn’t didn’t even bother to plan ahead to save her own ***. Rounding the next corner, the woman shook her head, a blue curl falling into her eyes as she skidded to a stop by the front door. She could tell without even bothering to touch it that it wouldn’t open. Whoever owned the place had every intention of keeping intruders out – or in this case, in. “****,” she hissed, her nails scraping in frustration down her cheek.

Doubling back wasn’t an option. That’d simply lead her into his waiting arms. Spotting another corridor to the left, she shook her head and sighed. The seconds she’d wasted standing there were simply pushing her closer to signing her name on the dotted line, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of making it easy. No, this had turned into an experiment of sorts to her. How long could one intelligent human keep a vampire running in circles? Her shoe squeaked as she pivoted on her heel and ran down the wall, her speed working in her favor. It wasn’t that she was faster than him – but she was certain she was faster than he expected for her stature.

Come on, Rion. You got this.

Closing her eyes, she listened to the air as it rushed past. She could hear her heart as it pounded in her chest and she knew it had to be the most enticing thing about this all to the vampire. She was running out of time – and out of energy. The corridor she had chosen was running short, and from the look of it, there was no exit. She was effectively backing herself into a corner. Before she could come up with another strategy, a sharp pain shot up her leg, sending her falling into the floor. Rolling onto her back, she gripped her thigh as tears of frustration burned her eyes. During the entire encounter, she had forgotten about one important detail.

She was damaged goods.

”Don’t hurt her, please! She’s just a child!”

She didn’t understand why her mother was crying so much. Didn’t she know that it only infuriated the bad men more? She wanted to tell her to stop, that it was going to be okay. She wanted to tell her that daddy would be there soon, but she couldn’t form the words. Instead, she cowered in the corner, her fingers curling into her hair as she rocked back and forth. Her mother, tied to the chair with her hands bound behind her, stared up at the large black covered men with tears staining her cheeks. He had something pressed beneath her chin, and for some reason, the object had her mother whimpering like her old puppy had when it was thundered outside. The other man had his back to them, throwing things from the desk into his bag. He had muttered something about leaving them alone, but his friend hadn’t listened. Now, she knew. She just KNEW that something was going to happen.

“Mommy…”

The word slipped from her lips in a sniffle, and the man with the object jumped, a creepy smile twisting onto his lips. “Oh, she’ll be fine,” he laughed, before a loud sound echoed through the house and red sprayed down around them in a fine mist. Before she could blink or wipe it from her face, the man was on her, pulling her across the floor. She began to kick. She had to kick. She had to get away! Her mommy had her head down, something was wrong. She needed to get to her mommy.

“Stop!”

The word was yelled seconds before a blazing pain shot through her thigh. Looking down, she saw the silver of the blade as the bad man twisted it, pinning her to the floor.

It was then – and only then – that she finally screamed.

Pushing her hands to the marble, she shook her head to try and clear the memory. She didn't want the last memory of her mother to be her blood as it coated her skin. She wanted to remember her smile or the way she would sing to her when she was upset. She wanted to remember how she lit up a room, even when there was no reason to feel joyful. Gritting her teeth, she brought her mother's face to the front of her mind as she slid back until she felt the wall behind her. Pressing her hands to it, she pressed one knee to the floor as she attempted to crawl her way back into a standing position. She barely slid up an inch before her leg quivered and gave out on her again, sending her crashing to the ground once more. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head as she dug her nails into the tile and took a breath.

Death was coming.

[Micah]

This was unfamiliar territory for him. The twisting corridors of the morgue had him confused and more than once he found himself at a dead end. He knew she wasn’t far though. Not only was her scent heavy in the air but his sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of her footsteps as her feet hit the floor. She could run, but never would she be able to hide from him. He considered calling out for her in an attempt to frighten her but he recalled the look in her eyes. She knew what her fate was. She knew she was going to die at his hands and she was resigned to it.

He turned a corner and found himself at yet another dead end. Frustrated now his foot connected with the wall causing the brick to crack and pieces to hit the floor. Micah glared down at the pile of dust and small rocks as if it had offended him. He needed to calm himself. Vel would be pissed if he destroyed her morgue so he drew in a deep breath that he didnt need and forced himself to relax. The distinct sound of footsteps could be heard again, hurried and panicked, and even closer than they had been. Refusing to waste another second he turned and ran off again, this time hot on her tail.

Micah couldn’t remember the last time that he had had the pleasure of hunting like this. There was just something about the fear, the adrenaline that made the air feel electrified. The anticipation - there wasn’t one specific thing that he didn’t like about the thrill of the hunt. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until now. Maybe he’d thank this blue haired woman before he killed her.

And the there she was. Sprawled on the floor a few feet ahead of him. He watched her from the shadows for a little while, until she managed to push herself up and crawl to place her back against the wall. From where she was sitting, the second he stepped out from under the cover of the darkness she would see him. She was effectively trapped, with no escape route in sight and the only way out was past him. No way in hell was she going to get the drop on him again. It was the end of the line for her.

A step forward and the shadows revealed his tall frame. He could only imagine what he looked like to her, larger than life, a gaping wound in the side of his neck that bled steadily while it healed, blood all down the front of him from the gunshot he’d experienced earlier and the scalpel she’d managed to embed in the side of his neck. His head tilted to the side as he regarded her. “I’m sure you know this is the end of the line for you. You really should have minded your own business.” He took a few steps closer. “Stand up. I’d hate to kill you while you’re cowering in a corner.”

[Rion]

Though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was there.

It was a feeling that resonated deep within her soul, the sensation that his eyes were on her. If she were to twitch so much as a muscle, she knew he would be on her. With that thought in mind, she kept her gaze on the ground as her nails dug deeper into the tile. She could feel the strain that threatened to peel her nails from the flesh, but she didn’t let up. She knew what was coming for her, what was haunting those shadows so perfectly. She could practically feel his breath on the back of her neck as he watched her. Finally finding the strength she’d held onto for so long, the doctor lifted her head as he stepped down the hall. His movements were slow, precise. Why was he trying to intimidate her? Didn’t he know she’d already chosen her fate?

Trailing her tongue over her lower lip, she twisted so her *** hit the floor and her head rested back against the wall. Her leg gave an involuntary twitch, the entire limb jolting as if someone had kicked it. For a brief second, pain etched in her features before she smoothed them back out into a mask of boredom. She might be dying, but he didn’t have to know the fear that twisted around her heart and froze the blood in her veins. She could be as strong as an entire army, but looking death in the eye was enough to weaken even the strongest of men.

“If you are so certain I knew my fate, you would not have to be repeating it. It’s a scare tactic and it’s pointless,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his face as she tilted her chin definitely. In this moment, everything about her life was laid out in front of her. She had her career, but she had no friendship, no lover, no one that would miss her. Her father, she was certain, would be too lost in his gin and bourbon to even notice that she had disappeared. He would be fine without her. No, she was virtually alone. Lifting her hand, she brushed her shaking fingers through her hair, allowing the cobalt curls to fall back into her face as she rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t hate to kill me. It doesn’t matter my position, you can’t wait to sink your fangs into me.”

With that said, she gave him a stubborn grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she shifted her position, fingers twisting into his pant leg. With effort, she used his clothing to lift herself to her feet, her bad leg holding no weight as she kept her hand on his shoulder. “The least you can do is be my prop, Fangs.” She knew she was going to die, and yet she couldn’t stop the words from rolling from her tongue. Her body was telling her to continue fighting, but she knew her limitations. With her leg as it was, she wouldn’t make it far. She’d simply be prolonging the inevitable. With one hand on his shoulder, however, she used the other to dip into the pocket of her jeans, fingers pressing against a button. Within seconds, every secret she had learned that evening was uploaded to her database. He could kill her, but he could never silence her. Pulling her hand back out, she pulled her hair over her shoulder.

Death had been coming.
Death had found her.

[Micah]

The urge to kick her and tell her to get the **** off was strong and he had next to no compassion when he looked down at her pathetic display. This blue haired female put on a good front. Her defiance may have amused someone else but not him. No, it irritated him in ways that he couldn't even vocalize. His eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling as he counted to ten. Yeah, this one he was going to enjoy killing. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Your witty remarks might impress others but I ain’t got time for them, nor do I give a **** about them. Or you for that matter.”

But that was a lie - he did care, kind of. She was exactly the kind of woman that he sired. Her attitude, her smart mouth - everything about her drew him in. He wanted to get inside her head and find out what made her tick, he wanted to discover the extent of her knowledge and try to find a way to use it to his advantage. It was then that he decided he wasn't going to kill her. That would be a waste. Even if he had to force her, it would be done.

His mouth twisted in a sneer. “You’re pretty full of yourself. How do you know I’m dying to sink my fangs in you hmm? For all I know you taste terrible.” She probably didn't. After living the better part of two years on the stale blood packs that the shop in the Eyrie carried anything else would be like, the nectar of the Gods or some ****. She didn't need to know that though. It would probably inflate her ego and that **** just wouldn't do.

The slightest movement caught his eye. Instantly his gaze zeroed in on the slight twitch of her hand as it twisted in her pocket. He had a feeling that whatever she had done didn't bode well for him. Furious, he looked at her, so angry that he was certain he was shooting sparks of rage at her with his eyes. His hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground a few inches and pinning her in place. “What the **** have you done?!”

[Rion]

She found the situation to be a little more than amusing. She knew it wrong. After all, who would feel anything other than fear when they were pinned between a wall and a rabid, angry vampire? As he glared down at her, she felt the ebb of her reality shift, her vision dimming in her peripheral vision. Even as she felt the change in her mind, she still held onto that amusement. Him, complaining that she talked too much, when he had spent the better part of the time he could be ridding himself of her taunting her. The hypocrisy she was faced with almost made the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

It took a moment for her to move her fingers as the room pulsed around her, lights trembling as the glass cracked along the windows. In her mind, the entire morgue was coming down around them. Every crack, every shatter of glass was just another reminder of her mental instability. However, she tilted her head back, the blue of her eyes almost overcome by the dilation of her pupils from the fear and mental break. “Again with the playground insults. I thought vampires were supposed to be some big, bad monster that went bump in the night? I doubt you could even bully a toddler.” The words were hissed from between her teeth as the room suddenly spun. Her fingers curled, nails biting into the skin of his bicep. Of course she would be faced by a creature from fantasy novels and have a depersonalization attack in the same breath.

“If you’re not dying to sink your fangs into me, you wouldn’t be here right now. Weren’t you ever taught it’s not nice to play with your food?” Yes, keep talking Rion. Even though her voice sounded far away and she felt as she was clawing herself from beneath a strong current, she needed to keep talking. Her entire form trembled in his grasp as the windows shattered behind her, raining glass down. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it wasn’t happening. That he wasn’t standing there with glass protruding from his face and neck, but the sight still caused her stomach to twist and bile to burn the back of her throat. It was only the subtle shift in his eyes, the anger that took over so completely, that seemed to break through the storm that was raging inside of her thoughts.

Her lips twitched into a smile, the white of her teeth showing as a laugh bubbled from her throat. It was as hysterical as it was amused. “Why do you care? You just made a point to once again undermine my cleverness,” she breathed, the words coming out choked as he slammed her into the wall. With a struggle, she pulled her phone out her pocket and showed him the screen, the word ‘MESSAGE SENT’ staring at him in large, red letters. Letting the device slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor, she curled her hand around his wrist, nails digging deep into his skin and leaving crescent shape marks as she tried to pull his hand back and relieve some of the pressure.

“You can kill me, Vampire, but you can’t silence me.”

[Micah]

Her words didn’t even phase him after all thats all they were - words. An attempt to use her intelligence and her wit to piss him off. Too bad for her he was way passed pissed off. His eyes were glued to the device that had fallen from her hand and hit the floor. Those two words were burned into the back of his eyelids. What the **** had she done? Already his mind was racing with ways to get back that information. It could be done, if one was smart enough. It would be dealt with but right now he had a more pressing matter on his hands.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” His tone was somewhat pleasant. A sheer contrast to the storm of rage that had started inside of him. His hand tightened around her throat briefly. It wouldn’t do for him to end her life, not when what he had in mind for her was going to be oh so satisfying. “Though I can’t say it matters much. You expose me and you’ll be exposing yourself.” He set her on the floor, hand still in place. “I’m not going to kill you. Well not really. For all intents and purposes you’ll be dead but you’ll be like me.” He grinned at her - fangs and all.

There wasn’t anything else he needed to say to her. She was after all a smart woman and it wasn’t difficult for her to figure out what his intentions were. Releasing her throat he tipped her head to the side and tapped his chin with a fingertip as if contemplating where the best spot to sink his fangs into her was. He could see her pulse there just below the surface of her skin. It was racing, just like her heart. Good. She’d taste that much better. “I’d ask you if you had any final words but theres no need for it. You’ll still be able to speak once I’m finished with you.” Hesitating for just a second to let his words sink he, he struck before she could even think to respond, fangs sinking into the side of her neck.

Her blood filled his mouth and slid down his throat with ease. **** if it hadn’t been far too long since he had allowed himself to indulge like this. But since it had been such a long time he needed to be careful. If he took too much it just might be too late to force the change on her. When he heard her heartbeat begin to falter he pulled away and bit into his wrist, pressing it firmly against her lips. “Drink or I’ll force your mouth open, and shove it down your ******* throat.”

[Rion]

She watched his gaze as it left her face to follow the phone’s path to the floor. She had hoped for a longer distraction, something to give her time to come with an active plan. It didn’t matter that she knew in her heart and soul this was end. The fight and fire still resonated inside of her, and she wasn’t ready to give in. Digging her fingers deeper into his arm, she tried to think of something to do, but she had hesitated too long. By the time the beginning of an escape plan formed, his eyes were back on hers, the heat from the anger nearly scorching her skin.

Stilling her hands, she met his gaze evenly, the blue flashing as she kicked her foot against the wall once. “I shouldn’t do a lot of things,” she whispered, her voice still holding that strength – but lacking the sarcasm. It was a true statement. She shouldn’t have been in the morgue, she shouldn’t have been in the city, but she was. With a snap of her teeth, she hid a whimper as his fingers constricted tighter over her throat, nearly choking the air from her lungs. She could already feel the room spinning, and it had nothing to do with the earthquake that was rocking her brain.

You’ll be exposing yourself.

The words he spoke echoed around inside of her head, and she shook her head. He couldn’t be implying what she thought he was. There was no way in ******* hell this monster was going to control her the rest of her life. Gritting her teeth together harder, she kicked out her foot, though the strength had drained out of her. Instead of the painful impact she had hoped for, the toe of her converse barely grazed his kneecap. “Asshole,” she whispered, the words strained to the point they were nothing more than a croak as she twisted in his grasp. He had said something more, but she hadn’t heard it. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have time to interpret it, because one moment, she was being choked…

… and the next she was burning.

His bite wasn’t poisonous as far as she could tell. No, it was just the pressure of the razor sharp fangs ripping through her thin flesh that set her off. It was the fact that vampire had his face buried against her neck that caused terror to grip her tight in its grasp. She had played the scene over and over in her mind from the moment she had met him, but it hadn’t prepared her. The pain shot through her body like a white hot lance, burning every nerve she had. Weakly, she slammed her hands against his chest as she mentally cursed him. He wasn’t even giving her the promise of death, and instead was leaving her with no end in sight to the agony.

That was why when he lifted his hand and pressed it to her lips, she didn’t open them.

Instead, she let her head fall back slightly, dazed gaze searching for his face in the blur of the room. When it finally came into her view, there was a subtle twitch of her lips. Even so close to death, she still managed to give him that same sarcastic smirk he had seemed to grow to despise in a short amount of time. When their gazes met completely, there was a silent promise in hers.

Until the very last breath she took, she would fight him.

[Micah]

Of course. Of ******* course. She chose exactly as he thought she would. She refused. “Being on the brink of death hasn’t done a thing for your rebellious streak has it?” His bleeding arm fell to his side. Blood ran over his hand in a crimson river, dripping off of his fingertips to hit the floor, forming a small puddle at their feet. He released the grip he had on her throat and gave her a light, mocking slap to the side of her face. “Just remember that you’ve chosen to be difficult. And I’m not a nice man. I promise you that this won’t be at all pleasant for you.”

His fingers curled in the front of her shirt so he could jerk her away from the brick wall she’d been plastered against. Her refusal hadn’t taken him by surprise, but he didn’t understand it. Even now he could hear the way that her heart skipped beats and he could hear how weak it was. She didn’t have much time as it was and the minutes were slipping away, just like her life. That was unacceptable. It would be a waste, and he wasn’t willing to let her slip through his fingers so easily.

Forcing her down to the floor his pinned her in place with his forearm over her chest. At this point though, Micah doubted that she had enough strength in her to tie her shoe let alone a 7 foot tall vampire. The fingers of one hand pressed against her jaw right on the points where her jaw opened and closed, like he’d seen his mother do when trying to medicate the stray cats that roamed their neighborhood when he was a kid. He wasn’t gentle about it either and knew that by the time it was all said and done she was going to have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. **** it. She’d heal.

Her jaw opened easily, just as he knew it would. She was at his mercy. Bringing his other hand up to his mouth he bit into his wrist again to reopen the wounds he’d made earlier. This time though, when he held his wrist to her mouth there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. His blood ran into her and once he thought she’d had enough he released her jaw and covered her mouth with his hand so she couldn’t spit it at him. “And just so I know you won’t hold it there….” he trailed off and with his free hand pinched her nose so she couldn’t breath. Now, she really had no choice.

[Rion]

She had always wondered what her patients saw before they took their last breath. Was is their life in flashes too quick to see? Or maybe it was a memory they held dear to their heart, something to comfort them when they finally met the end. The logical part of her brain told her it was neither. She believed, honestly, when someone died it was... dark. Peaceful. It was quiet. At least, that was what she hoped it was. Her life wasn't something she wanted to relive. She didn't want to see the blood spurt from her mother's throat and create a crimson splatter on her shirt. She didn't want to hear her father's drunken insults. She didn't want to remember her boyfriend's smug smile or snide comments. No, she just wanted to die peacefully.

She wasn't getting her wish.

As the vampire threw her back into the wall, she watched as his lips moved. Full lips, twisted into a dark snarl that accented the thunderous rage on his face perfectly. The beast that held her was a true creature of the night, there was no denying that. She had known that she was dead the moment he had filled her doorway. She had put up a fight. It was in her nature, her blood, to not give in. Even now, when she saw his eyes narrow and heard the dull vibration of his voice, she fought him. Her eyes were defiant, but it was another battle that was lost. She was fighting for no reason, clawing for air, though the blunt of her nails were making no impact against his wrist.

And then she was flying.

The impact jarred her, her back connecting with the cold tile causing her teeth to snap together and stars to around her head. A gasp of air - what little air she had left - fell from her and she closed her eyes. The glass was shattering from the ceiling, now falling down like rain, drenching them both. She could feel the pieces slicing through her skin, the burn too intense to fight. When she parted her lips to scream out, no sound came. She didn't realize it was all in her mind, she didn't notice that the man was actually pinning her down and he didn't have those shards of glass protruding from his eyes. What he had for her was far worse. She couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend why he wouldn't just let her die. He had what he wanted, didn't he? This glorious ******** from hell had her right where he wanted her --

--- and he was tortuing her.

A sound vibrated from her throat, something close to a growl in her mind, though sounding more like a petulant kitten's purr to his ears. She wanted to throw her hands up, she wanted to kick and shot, but his weight was too heavy. For a ******* vampire, he was a fatass. Ignoring the glass rain, she opened her eyes as the screeching continued in her mind, the walls closing in on her, panic filling her and gripping throat even tighter than his hand had. Meeting his gaze evenly, she tried to keep him in her sights as the room pulsed. When his fingers gripped her jaw and pried her mouth open, she gave a jerk of her head, but nothing happened. He was like the jaws of life, holding her completely still.

She was no stranger to the taste of blood. She'd been hit many times in her life, had tasted it on her togue. It repulsed her. Her stomach twisted, bile rising up the back of her throat, threatening to choke her as he pinned her to the ground, forcing the blood down her throat. No, he couldn't be doing this to her. He couldn't - he ******* couldn't. As he pinched her nose shut, effectively cutting off any way to release the poison that he was filling with, the knowledge of her situation settled on her like a heavy blanket. There was no way out, not now. Her eyes, though filled with panic, flashed with annoyance and determination before oblivion claimed her completely.

He had thought her smart mouth was torment before - he had seen nothing yet.
She was going to make his eternity a living hell.