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It was a pretty normal night at the Nexus, luckily there hadn't been any big fight lately. Just the usual ones over some one step on some one else' shoes or one drunk guy looked at another drunk dudes girlfriend. It was close to closing time and the DJ had left for the evening, leaving just the jukebox playing for the few guest that where still bellied up to the bar. The waitresses had cleaned up and left and Renee was hurrying others out. One of her bouncers and her bartender had offered to stay, but she declined and sent them too on their way. She had cleaned up most things and put the money in the safe, now all that was left was was to wipe down the bar.

The moon peeks out from behind the clouds over head as the wind sweeps them along the sky, and it lights his path down the quiet street. The decibel level in this part of town at this time of night is far less than it would be if it were not closing time. The loudest noise that can be heard is the collective hum of idling cabs in front of the bars down this particular street. Every now and then someone will stumble out from an opened door and out into the warm street. Their hands find the door of the vehicle which may or may not have been for them. Axel thinks about it and he’s sure that the drivers don’t mind. Either way they are getting paid and will just come back later. Others trip over invisible hazards as they stalk their way to their respective residencies. His eyes, black, have no sunglasses over them this time. Axel has used the lie that they are contacts before, and it has worked every time. Seems people, if you believe it yourself, will believe almost anything you tell them. As for the matter of the parasites in his skin, he’s gone out of his way to handle that, wearing clothing that covers almost every inch of his body.

All of the clubs on this street are dying down, but there is one that has caught his by the average number of people coming out of it. There are some clubs that have waves and waves erupting from the door and out unto the street in puking messes, then there are the ones where there are three people that come out then the lights turn off. This bar though, is literally right in the middle of the line of information when it comes to output. As he watches it, those two inky orbs, devoid of pupils or iris, watch as a lone man walks down into the adjacent alleyway. No doubt, the man is going back there to spill his guts all over the concrete and down into some drain pipe. Rather than waiting any longer, as he’s already waited till two a.m., Axel makes his way toward the the space between the two bars. As soon as he hits the shadowed, darker area within the alleyway, he thinks that next time he feeds should be a change of scenery. Perhaps a park or quiet corner of an apartment building. Still, he blinks, and he can now see the man as if he were looking through infrared goggles.

Use of the power that turns the human into a little hypnotized puppet would be rather redundant at this point. The man cannot even stand up straight, let alone really defend himself. The hunt is more fun, but it’s late this evening and all he really wants is to get his meal and then go about his way. Walking slowly, almost as if he is strutting toward his prey. His teeth, tooth by tooth, turn into two rows of razor sharp fangs, looking more like a shark than human. There are two perks to this particular ability he has found himself able to do. The first is that it tears into flesh better, meaning there is more blood and better feeding. The second is that his victims often times look like animal attacks, having been mauled to death. Once each fang has erected itself, he violently uses his strength to push the man against the dumpster. He hears it, the crack of bone at the sheer power of his shove as the enamel breaks around the aluminum frame. Slumping down, it’s obvious to him now that the crack was his spine.

Unable to move he sits there in fear, the smell of urine rife in the air. This only sends Axel more over the edge. He would yell at him for not having the discipline to die like a man. Shaking his head he reaches down and lifts the man by his collar, pressing him against the wall next to the dumpster. His mouth opens, all the rows of jagged teeth waiting to rip a chunk of the man’s flesh open. Fear, even if he couldn’t smell it, was in the man’s eyes. Dipping his head down, those daggers hidden in his mouth, he serves as chunk of the man’s neck from his body. Pulling his head back, to look at the wound, the man’s head tips over so that it falls against his shoulder. Forcibly he takes his free hand and shoves it to the side, taking the open wound and drinking deeply. Each swallow is power purely, taste of immortality.

She helped the last drunk drunk guy out of the door, trying to avoid being grabbed by his wondering hands, ad quickly locked it behind him so he wouldn't come back in and try anything. She went over and started playing nine inch nails before she got to work on cleaning the bar. As she cleaned the bar of the spelt alcohol she thought back on why she had decided to leave her job and fly back in the US to come here and open a bar.

As she was cleaning up some of the shot glasses a loud bang startles her, making her tense up and brake the glass in her hand, slicing it open. She grabbed a rag from the counter next to the sink and quickly wrapped up the wound, and not very well. She knew she had to go check out the noise but she had a feeling this wasn't the safest thing to do. She grabbed the baseball bat that was placed just under the counter of he bar and mad her was to the back door. It had sounded like it had come from the ally so that would be her starting place. Before going out the boor she grabbed a flash light, hopping that if nothing else the light would keep the monsters going through her head away from her in real life.

Unoiled hinges creak and scream at him as a door behind him opens up and his head perks up. Portals don’t just open on their own, as someone has to first turn the handle and then push them open. Turning his head, eyes blink shut then open, turning back to that steel blue color that he has had for his entire memory of life. The hunger being sated has cured the color of his eyes. Crimson flows down away from his lips and he catches glimpse of her. The brown haired woman that stands there in the threshold with a bat in her hands. For one sliver of a second he wants to ask her what exactly it is that she plans on doing with it. Sure she could hit him with it, but without the strength to back it up, what exactly is it going to do. She hasn’t taken any further steps out into the alleyway, just seems to be standing there with some sort of stunned determination. That monstrous mouth of his, with the two rows of razor sharp fangs, opens wide in a silent roar. A grin forms like a twisted abomination of the cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, as if his mouth cannot hold each sharp tooth. This action on his face is paired with him taking a step toward the woman, dropping the man unto the ground.

The man behind him groan a little bit, bleeding out. The sound is low, like a whimper of a dying animal knowing that it’s time is coming to an end. Axel lets it go, he knows that soon that man would be dead and if nothing else, he will kill him later. This woman, now in his gaze, he sizes her up. If she wanted she could run back into the bar and hide herself or she could step out. This makes little difference to him. Having been interrupted during his dinner, it’s not like he couldn’t continue feeding from this new target. Deciding what to do in his mind, he goes over the options. Even if he were to feed from her and leave her alive, she would remember all of this. At least he thinks, and that would further add to this break in the masquerade he’s created. His mind is running faster than time can move, he’s sure as she still hasn’t moved and he doesn’t feel tired of standing here yet. If he feeds from her and kills her he would have two bodies for one vampire to get rid of in one area with limited time. Disposing of a body can be easy, as long as you have the right materials or proper help. Getting rid of two bodies without the help part would be a *****. This leaves the final option: turning.

He’s never done it before, not once. He’s not even really sure how it is done. The man behind him could be a test subject but he has to act fast. Even when he was turned, as he remembers, he was dying and in this dying moment Jesse did something. At the end of the second, which he’s sure is all the time has passed, it comes to him. The fact that the thing that changed him, that copper or metallic taste that hit his mouth. It was blood, and he knows this now. Reaching into the leather jacket, that he uses to cover the activity of maggots within his skin, Axel pulls out an eight inch blade. It glimmers under the haze of a clouded night sky. Generally, when it comes to using blades, he uses much longer ones, to get more blood per swing; however walking around with two foot long swords is a great way to draw attention to himself. That blade in his hand moves quick with enough force to break bones. Penetrating at the chest, the blade moves through the clothes and the skin, until the hilt stops it’s progress. Judging by the position of the blade, he’s sure that he hasn’t stabbed her in the heart, but perhaps rather cut a major artery. It’s only a matter of time before she starts bleeding out and goes into shock.

Just as quickly as the blade enters her flesh, he removes it again, turning on his heels to look at the man that is situated next to the dumpster. Why couldn’t he have just dropped the man there in the dumpster to begin with? It would have made things so much easier on him. Sighing, noticing his own mistake of placement, he moves forward, licking the blood off the blade. Leaning down he throws the now dead human man over his shoulder. Quickly he tosses him into the dumpster, and lights a match. Axel has gotten better at this as he reaches in and finds a can of hairspray and some other flammable materials to douse the body in. Luckily for him this is an alleyway next to a bar, so they have all sorts of ignitable items in the dumpster. His head turns to look at the woman behind him. “I wouldn’t move or run, the more work you put on your heart the faster you die.” The body has caught and the smell doesn’t get to him as bad anymore, not like it had on the night of his turning, but this could be because of the sheer numbers that he has done this.

Lifting his arms up he grabs the lid of the dumpster and then closes it so that the body burns on it’s own. There is enough oxygen in there to keep the fire going, along with cans that will pop and explode and create more of a burst from time to time. Once the lid is shut like a dirty coffin to which the man will stay until found charred and covered in molten trash, Axel turns around. He waits for a second, sure that she will soon be beating on Death’s door. “I apologize but this is a perfect case of wrong place at the wrong time”, he grins, each tooth turning back to it’s human counterpart, founded yet still blood soaked. “But you can see that something like this can bare no witnesses, and dead men tell no tales.” He waits for her to slump, fall, crumble in on herself from the impending death.

Before her eyes where even fully able to adjust to the darkness of the all, she was hit in the chest. It was sharp stabbing pain at first then it felt like she had been hit by a semi truck. She forced her eyes to focus through the pain to see what had just hit her and what was going on. She grabbed at her chest and felt the warm, stickiness and she knew even before looking down that she was bleeding. She didn't want to look but she knew she had to and as she lowered her head she saw the hole in her chest.

She wanted to scream but couldn't. She wanted to run and was about to but a she looked up she saw the man...no not man, monster, that stood before her. She saw its month covered and dripping in blood, teeth that where sharp as razors. It spoke warning her not to run for she would die faster that way. She could already feel herself getting weaker. With each heart beat more and more of her life poured out onto her no longer white shirt.

The world was spinning now and everything sounded so far away, even her shorten breath, which she was desperately trying to hold in, sounded like it was someone else breathing. She heard something clang, she must of dropped the bath she had been holding. She focused again to see the monster, its teeth had changed and it looked almost human. She forced herself to hear him as he spoke again, she was able to catch something about wrong place at the wrong time and dead men tell no tales.

Her legs where giving out as she fell back agents the door jam slowly sliding down till she sled no more. She must be sitting on the ground she thought. She thought back on how her parents had raised her to worship God and how when she opened the bar she had started practicing Wicca. She wished she had listened to her parents, maybe then she wouldn't be dieing or at least have a warm fussy feeling, not this cold lonely one she had now.

She looked up at the monster knowing he was the last thing she would see before she died. She felt something run down her face, probably a tear or blood, she didn't know what was going on any more. She blinked and more fell and the monster turned hansom. She tried to say "help" but it came out as a whisper and she felt herself going into the darkness that is death.

In the darkness of the alleyway he watches as more and more of her shirt is morbidly tie-dyed a crimson color, parts of it becoming black. The area that becomes oil like is closest to the wound and where the most blood is pouring from. That shirt, down at the bottom where it almost meets her pants is just the brightest color of arterial red, and he’s sure that the only thing keeping the blood from squirting forth is body pressure. The pressure that keeps all the organs and stuff in unless the wound is big enough, but even then, sometimes, the organs can stay in with enough surface pressure. This thought gets away from him and he notices as the woman drops the bat behind her and it starts to clang and bounce on the ground. Though he doesn’t have a heightened that some vampires can get he still feels that the very ring of the metal bat against the ground hurts his ears. Not to mention that if someone else heard it they could come down here. He quickly kicks it inside of the building so that it continues it’s motion unto the tile floor of her bar. Finally he sees it, the look on her face the one where the light is leaving her eyes. This is what death looks like, Axel knows it all too well.

She slips back, falling against the threshold of the door and then slumping down against it until she is seated. Axel’s eyes watch this transpire before him and he takes a step over her to drag her into the bar. Letting her fall unto the tile he closes the door behind him and knows that her body is in too much shock now to be harmed by her head bouncing off the hard floor. The door swings close, unoiled hinges creaking again as he makes sure it closes behind him. He thinks turning to her he looks down at her. She has made only one sound when she was out against the door, but it was barely audible, more like a moan of pain. It doesn’t really matter to him, he is going to do this either way. Finally, moving across the floor, he kneels down next to her. Taking the same blade that stabbed her in the chest he places it to his wrist. Blood, it’s the key, he’s sure. The blade digs into his skin and he decides that he is going to fully commit to this.

The blade bites at his flesh and he can feel the blood drip down his arm. Gripping her mouth, knowing she is too weak to do it on her own, he forces it open. His eyes look down and he lets the blood from the wound on his wrist drip down unto her mouth. If she’s conscious enough to hear him, he’s not sure, but still he speaks to her, “Drink…” After a few minutes he realizes that the woman is too weak even to swallow. Reaching down he moves his hand over her throat, trying to get her to swallow the blood. “If you want to live you have swallow the blood.” He presses his slit wrist to the her lips and then looks at the blood on the tile floor and the puddle that is sure to be out the door. Again he rubs the throat of the woman and tries to get her to swallow so that she will get to be a part of this grand life. The young vampire isn’t even sure this will work, he’s taking a stab in the dark to be completely honest, using folklore, stories and an educated guess.

She could feel the something on her neck before she left something go down her throat. She couldn't fight what ever was going on. She felt it as it it hit her stomach and it burned. It started dull at first but quickly grew to an intense pain. She felt like she had just drank fire and it was burning her from the inside out. It was spreading from just being in her stomach to her other organs. As it hit her heart she could not contain it anymore, she let out a scream.

It kept burning into her bones. They felt like they were braking in two at first but then it was like someone had taken a sledge hammer and was crushing each bone one by one into a thousand pieces. It then began to move into her muscular system. Like some sort of snake, it slithered, burning and almost ripping its way through her body, one fiber at a time. It made its way to her skin and she just wished she was able to rip it from her body to try and find some kind of relief from what was going on. As she kept screaming and squirming on the floor she had no thoughts other then the pain that was ravaging her body.

After what seemed to be a life time to her, pain started to reside and she was able to think again. She laid there and slowly opened her eyes. Looking down t her chest it appeared that the hole was now gone. She lifted her hand to her chest to make her and it was in fact gone. She then looked around the room, she was in her bar and the man or monster was still there with her. She laid there and waited fr it to move.

Kneeling there with her head on his lap, he lead to think about what would drive him to sire the woman that is here now. Fingers move her hair from her face as she dies, he knows that’s what is what is happening as it’s happened to him. Forgetting, at least for the moment, about why he’s turning her and rather thinking about what has happened this evening that has made this come so far. The initial attack on his prey could have been a bit quieter, as the smash into the dumpster. The crash against the metal can has made a bit of noise, more than he should have made. That’s probably the first thing that set him into this possible masquerade violation. The other things could be not checking the alleyway for doors pour out into them. If not for that door the woman wouldn’t be here dying. A scream leaves her lips and he almost wants to cover her mouth, but then he stops himself. He keeps his hand steady and low at his side rather than covering her mouth to stop the sound. It drones on and on. There she is curling and writhing on the ground, head in his lap.

His thoughts are brought back, by that constant wailing, of why he has turned her. There is no denying it now, she is a vampire and he can’t take it back. The matter of the fact is that he turned her because he is impressed with her. He probably could have killed her, though he’s not sure he could have gotten rid of the body by the time any sort of authority got to the bar. That would have been a problem. She’s impressive because despite the fact that she had only armed herself with a bat she still came outside. That eagerness and readiness to combat mixed with fear of a personal fear of a masquerade violation and her desire to live. Still he’s sure that she would rather be a vampire than be dead. He could be wrong though. She may hate being a vampire and this would be another problem. His fingers drum at the floor, other hand moving the hair from her face again. As she has been tossing and turning the hair has been tossed to her face. He waits, as it seems the embrace seems to be exaggerating her death far longer than it has his own, or that could just be his own lack of time perception.

Once she stops that atrocious yelling he looks down at her in his lap. Her eyes open and he waits for a second. Sure she would probably flip out on him, try and hit him for killing her, this could be fun. His blue eyes watch as her eyes move down to where the knife had stabbed her in the heart and he tilts his head to the side. It appears she’s taking having just died rather well, at least to his perception. Her eyes then glance around and he looks at the blood stained shirt again, she’s quiet, almost as if his attack on her has set her into a shock and she’s become mute. The thought gives him pause for a moment and he even gives her a bit of a look, then shakes his head. That can’t be the reason that Jesse is unable to speak, he’s sure it’s probably something that has been around for a while. Finally as she stops moving he looks down at her and offers a more human-like grin. His teeth are no longer monstrous, his eyes are blue, yet there is still blood on his face. “Done screaming yet, so I can get a word in?”

Before she can respond to that in any way, he remove his hand from her head. Thinking of the words to say, without being cliche. After a moment he opens his mouth agape and words finally pour from them. “As your body died, I gave you my blood”, his words are in a low tone, almost demanding her attention as he speaks them. “That blood, which you have consumed, has turned you into”, he takes a moment to pause because he’s not sure if she’s heard the rumors or like him met a vampire before he was turned, “into a vampire.” He’s sure that now she would have the disbelief. How could she not believe him though. Did she not see him? The rows of fangs, the black eyes, the blood on his chin? Does she not see the things in the scene before her. Though, she may be in denial. He’ll just have to wait and see.

As she listens to him speak, she doesn't know what to say, then she hears the word vampire and can not help start to laugh a little. "What do mean a vampire? I mean I'm sure I should be dead by now or something because you stabbed me and I'm clearly not in a hospital and I'm sure you are not a doctor so something is going on." She thought of the black eyes and razor teeth of 'Jaws' he had earlier. "You looked more like a black eyed child when I first saw you now you look...well you look good."

She then quickly jumped up and ran to the mirror behind the bar, she saw nothing. She turned back to him. "Do i have the black eyes and the teeth thing too?" She had never heard of the eye or teeth thing but she did remember reading a book years ago about the not having a reflection and that if you had to drink the blood of vampire to become one so maybe he was telling the truth. Well he kinda had to be, hell he had just killed her and she was 'alive' right now and felt better then she ever had.

She laughs and he just sort of tilts his head to the side as if he’s almost offended by it. If she doesn’t believe it now then she would have to believe it at some point. It’s only a matter of time. She explains it to herself and this is what confuses him the most. The fledgling before him asks as if she doesn’t believe that something supernatural has happened to her, yet she is explaining the fact that he stabbed her in the heart yet she’s not dead. “Yes… you are dead.” It’s true. She would find no pulse if she went looking, and her body heat is probably on a decline. The whole him not being a doctor thing won’t even get a response from him. If he would answer it would be in a negative way, to ask if he looks like a doctor. Yes, something is going on. She’s so perceptive, eventually she’ll catch on and stop talking in circles, he’s sure of it. He hopes this is the case anyway. He wonders, after she mentions it, what a black eyed child is. Is it an abused young person, like he was most of his life. He tries not to get offended by it.

The last words she speaks before she jumps up and runs off is that he looks good. Does he not look good when he’s all monstrous and animal like? He thinks so. In his mind, these curses and gifts that have befallen him since his turning have only been good things. The maggots in his skin, while annoying at first have turned into a sort warmth to him. A wriggling, squirming warmth but a warmth nonetheless. Even the fact that when the sun goes down he ends up at his sire’s tattoo parlour doesn’t really bother him anymore. He’s found ways to make that a bit more acceptable. The woman is looking at something behind the bar but
he just continues to think about all the things that make him the vampire that he is. The two rows of fangs, the canines being longer than the rest is probably one of his favorites. He loves that he can tear into flesh more easily, makes him a better predator. The eyes, well the eyes only happen when he’s hungry or angry, so they don’t really bug him. Humans tend to think that the ‘contacts’ are cool anyway.

“Don’t know about the black eyes. I didn’t get them until a few weeks after my turning. Somethings are developed slowly over time.” She’s starting to understand, he thinks that she is indeed a vampire. It must be because she hasn’t seen her reflection in the mirror. That is usually a tell-tale sign that one is a vampire. This is why most elevator cars in the city don’t have that stupid reflective material on their walls, like ones in other cities. “You do have fangs, but I’m not sure if you have as many as me. Again, it’s a thing that I developed much later in my life as a vampire”, he stands and peeks out the door before locking it and then turning back to her. He knows that it’s only a matter of time before she feels the hunger of her death. She has quite a bit of her blood to clean up to, but he will help when it comes time for that. His scan her over, moving to sit in a chair at a table in her bar. “Soon you’ll feel such a hunger that you cannot bear it. It’s because”, he points at the blood on the ground, “that is what sustains you now. As you can see. You have a considerable less amount of it.” Tapping the table twice he looks into her eyes, begging her questions with his own.