Path of the Vampire forum

The young, crimson-haired boy shuffled down the street in the brisk night air. The moon was a curious crescent, just peeking out from the darkness and the grey clouds. Logan often walked his problems away, just as he did the fateful night he was sired... He wish he could remember more. If only he could, he may have answers to why he was... split, into two. No... three. He shivered at the thought of the Mirror personality. Luckily Logan had not had a direct run-in with him yet, but the way Vasik was torn inside from their encounters made Logan fear for himself.

A ghostly cloud of moisture escaped his lips as he sighed in contemplation. He missed being truly warm within, to walk amongst the humans in their ignorant world. Ignorance was truly bliss. This enlightenment to vampire-kind had stained his now blood-hungry mind.

Speaking of hungry... Logan was breaking away from his self-mutilation and starving streak, but he feared for his human consciousness to die as he stared longingly into the fresh, warm necks of every human he passed. Maybe their blood could warm him again, make him human once more. A vampire's blood made him a vampire... What was he thinking? Was he just making a desperate excuse, despite the facts?

The more his killer body grew, the more emaciated Logan appeared when he took over the body. His thin, gangly appendages ended in razor-tipped claws, shaking in weakness. He needed blood. Lots of it. No, he couldn't think like that.

He heard a bell ring close by. A woman in raggedy clothes stepped out of the nearby marketplace with arms full of groceries. She was short-statured, so he could barely see beyond the tips of the serrated, brown paper bags. The store owner turned his sign to "closed," and shut off the lights. Logan watched from the other side of the street, amber eyes glowing in the dark, reflective like a starving wolf's.

He wanted to will something to happen. For fate, no, a jinx, to fall short on her end. As if by magic or will, the woman slipped on a patch of ice and fell forward, groceries spilling out. Logan briskly ran to her side. "Are you alright? That was quite a spill."

The woman donned a painful visage. "I... my ankle. I think I broke it." Her knee was badly scraped too, blood smearing the pavement and cloudy ice. Logan's skin crawled with a shiver of adrenaline. His eyes dilated at the sight and smell of the blood. Just once... he could do it just once...

"Here, I'll help you. We'll get you to the hospital. I know a shortcut through here." The woman looked up with an expression of hesitant thanks. She could feel the danger towering before her, but what could she do? She was just about to ask to call an ambulance from the shop, but fate was not on her side. The store owner had just departed, leaving them alone in the flickering light of the street lamp above.
"O-okay."

Logan gathered the groceries one by one. He picked them up slower as he began to realize what he was truly doing... baby formula? Diapers? Was she a mother? She looked so young, but it was possible. Logan's body shook violently. "Is there something wrong? You look awful pale, and you're shaking like death was upon you!" the woman observed. "I-I'm just... cold." She put a hand on his cheek. "My, you are freezing!" The warmth of her hand was near ecstasy on his frigid flesh. He closed his eyes to savor it, still shaking.
"Your lips, they're positively blue!"

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Let's get you taken care of."

"Thank you for your kindness."

He put the groceries in her lap and lifted her with his colossal strength. She flinched at the pain as her ankle left the ground. The woman, still frightened, tried for small talk, but Logan replied with abrupt, short answers. He didn't want to get to know her, but she replied with talking about her, her boyfriend, and her baby and how silly she was to fall. It broke Logan's heart more and more. How could he be doing this?
"It'll be soon, it's not far from here."

"Wh-where are we going? This isn't the way..."

"Don't worry, you're going to be alright."

He laid her down in the alley. "Let's take a look at that ankle, shall we?"

"Wait, what are you, ah! That hurts! Let's just go to the hospital already!"

"We probably should have put a splint on it, I'm so sorry. Here, I'll wrap it up in my scarf..."

The woman hesitated once more. "Okay... I'm Sally by the way."

Logan's face was overcome with extreme pain and frustration, but he would not show her. "Logan."

"Logan, that's my baby girl's name!"

Logan couldn't help but chuckle a little. Destiny was truly cruel. The woman smiled, expressing her trust.
He looked down at the ankle. It was blue and swollen, possibly broken or just terribly sprained. He wrapped his scarf around the wound.

"I hate to make you so cold! You should have used my scarf."

"Nonsense."

"Here... take mine, as a token of thanks. Maybe this exchange could be one of friendship?" She lifted the fabric from her neck, wrapping it around his. Logan put his hand on the fabric, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent deeply, absorbing the warmth.

"Are you... alright?"

Her neck was exposed now, radiant against the moonlight. Seconds passed as he stared beyond her coat collar.

"Let me... just call an ambulance..." She reached for a cell phone in her pocket, but it was abruptly stopped by Logan's ferocious, clawed hand. She looked at it, and fear started pumping through her veins. Logan could hear her heartbeat pounding in his ears. A dark voice in his head urged him...

Do it.

"No Vasik! I'm not like you!" He closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Who the hell is Vasik?! Just get me out of here! Help!"

Logan's free hand covered her mouth, and her eyes grew wide with fright as she began screaming, muffled by his hand.

"Shh, shh, it's going to be alright."

...

A few moments later, the woman lie flat on the ground, groceries spilled about, trickles of blood here and there about her neck. Vasik, with blood on his lips, sat with his back to the wall, rocking back and forth, holding his knees tight to him, simply muttering, "what have I done, what have I done?"

Robert left Beta Towers with a scarf wrapped around his neck to hide where he'd been shot. He'd changed his jacket to his leather one, and had pulled t around himself tightly to again, hide the bullet wound in his torso. It had been a hellish 24 hours, and he just wanted to get home to some peace and quiet, to sort through his mind and work out what in the hell had been hidden to him for all of these years. Usually, he'd have teleported home, but he'd used all of his powers to heal a human the night before - and then had used the last of his blood to summon some spirits to try and save Serry from Lizzie. He was exhausted, he was drained and he was a mess.

His head pointed to the ground so that he could watch one foot step in front of the other, as if they were having a batle to see who could get there first. He was more aware of his surroundings than usual, so he could hear the little crystals of frost and ice, crunching underfoot with every step he took. In a way, it comforted him, but on the other hand it irritated him like white noise on a television, crackling away when you can't find the remote you just sat on. His mind was whirling, full of emotions and thoughts - but the over riding feelingwas that of guilt. Guilt at having abandoned his family. Guilt at having forgotten his family. Guilt for being with other women, when he was possibly still married. He had no idea if Marie would have filed for divorce or not by now, he had no idea what she must have thought happened to him. And thatstung him deeply. He just.... didn't know anything about them or their lives.

His fingers curled into fists and he rammed them into the pockets of his jacket, helping to keep the jacket tight around him, and carried on down into Redwood. He was weak, and starving, but he knew that if he made it back to Solace then there would be blood packs in the fridge that he could feed from to regain his strength. However, he wasn't sure what stock they had in at the moment, and if there would be enough for him to summon some spirits of 'his' minions, so that he could replenish his spiritual and magical energies also. His head lifted up and his bottom jaw dropped open as he yawned, taking in a large breath of air into his lungs and expelling it. However something within that breath brought him to a halt and made him look around. He'd smelt and tasted blood in the air, and there was more than just a papercut's worth.

Then he spotted it, the thing that was out of place and which didn't belong. And orange in the street, slowly rolling from an alley towards the gutter. He really did have enough of his own problems though. Did he want to get involved in whatever was going on in that alley? Did he have the mental, physical and emotional strength to face down and deal with the demons he might find? He could always pretend that he wasn't there, that he'd seen nothing..... But he knew he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that. He was Robert Pratt, and he helped those in need and stood up against the Darkness that polluted this town. He knew he needed to go to the alley and look down it, to be ready for whatever might be happening and to sort it out.

He took another breath in, and then headed for the alley. A woman lay on the ground, face staring at the sky, with blood and an obvious wound to her neck. Across from her sat a..... boy he'd guess, cradling his knees and mumbling, as blood lined his lips like lipstick on a woman. The boy seemed traumatised, and from the way he was and how thin he looked, Robert guessed that he was fairly new to the life and hadn't come to terms with the whole 'blood drinking' thing. He'd seen it so many times with the young who weren't looked after and cared for by their sires. They tried to deny the hunger, until one night they simply couldn't deny it anymore and snapped. With a quick look around, Robert was satisfied that there was noone around, so stepped into the alley and crouched down beside the woman, feeling for a pulse. His eyes didn't leave the boy and he gently exerted his powers and sent his words directly to the boy's mind.

"Hello. Please don't panic, I'm not going to hurt you. Let me help you. My name is Robert, Robert Pratt. And you are?"

He managed to find a pulse in the woman's neck and quickly removed his own scarf, tying it tightly around her neck to stem the bleeding. She wouldn't last long if something weren't done soon, so pushing his own issues to the back of his mind for now - despite them protesting they'd been ignored long enough - he scooped her into his arms and stood up, once more talking to the boy's mind.

"Stay here, I'll be right back!"

He took off at a run, biting hard on his tongue to stop from crying out at the pain he was in from his own wounds, but he only had to go a few blocks. There was a police station down the road, where he could eaily drop the woman and know she'd be seen to - and this is what he did, banging loudly on the door and then running away to ensure she'd be found speedily. He didn't bother waiting, he needed to get back to the boy, to help him before he hurt someone else and so he ran all the way back and then crouched before the boy, offering him his hand.

"Come on. Lets get you inside, fed and warmed up. You look like you need it!"

And then he just waited for some sort of flicker of acceptance and intelligence from him.

Vasik's head was in a daze. His vision moved in slurred twists and turns, as if he were intoxicated. He stopped mumbling as he was lifted up, and remained silent to Robert's mental prodding. When he was fully on his feet, he covered his face in his hands, and screamed.
"WHY?!!"
The echo filled the dark night, responded by barks and howls of dogs in the distance.
He whimpered a little, tears freezing down the face of his skin.
Well that was swell.
He winced. "Shut up, just shut up!"
Logan took both of his hands and grabbed one of Robert's, swaying a little in shock.
"I-is she going to be okay? She's going to be alright, right?"
The panic was evident in his desperate eyes, meeting with Robert's helpful gaze.

O.....k then. The boy seemed to be talking to himself when he said shut up, and he was obviously a little.... deranged. Robert couldn't take the chance that they'd be found, not if the boy was determined to go screaming out into the night. He wished he had the strength and energy to teleport them, but he was wiped out. They were going to have to make a run for it instead. This was going to be, interesting.

"It's fine. She'll be fine, I'm sure. But we need to get you inside somewhere safe, before people come looking for the scene of the crime and the.... animal who did it."

He projected into the boys mind gently, trying to put a soothing tone on the voice. However, mind speak was something that he'd learnt very recently, and he'd not fully mastered it yet. The worst bit was when additional thoughts were projected, and not just the words he wanted to say.

Gently, Robert took the boy's arm and tried to direct him out of the alley as he racked his brains on where to take him. They were in Redwood, and he was pretty much right between his two larger properties. The orphanage was the closest, but he definitely didn't want the boy around the children, not in this state. However, there was the gallery! That was just a few blocks north of where they were. He looked down as the man grabbed his hand, and he gently put his other on top of them in a fatherly manner.

"Come on. I have a place we can go. Can you walk - quickly?"

There were sounds of voices, footsteps, and he wasn't sure if they were simply trying to calm the dogs who were in the gardens or if it were people actually coming for the boy. He didn't want to hang around for a minute longer, so if they boy accepted, they'd be off as fast as possible to the North and the Art Gallery.

Animal... Somewhere deep inside him, Logan knew the other man was using the word to not post blame on him, but if an animal could do that... Animal... he was an animal. Or possibly worse. Animals did not deceive and lie to feed. They were the paragons of truth, inevitability, the laws of nature. What he was defiled nature's name.

That's right... you're a monster. Accept it. Live it... Love it.

Logan didn't want to appear crazier than he already was, even though he knew it was too late. He would not reply to the demon within him, only shook his head in hopes to break him away.

He mustered his consciousness and strength in one to stand himself up straight to follow the stranger. Who was he? Why did he want so badly to help? Somewhere in his mind, Logan wanted to be caught, to be punished, to be persecuted. He was a pariah of the human world, and must be treated as such.

He looked up to the man and struggled to reply. "Yes... I think I can walk." As soon as they started their power walk out of the area, the chatter and banter of humans grew louder. Panic wrecked itself through Logan's fragile body. His mindset changed on the run; did he want to be found? Or did he just want to hide and wish the humans away? To be found would mean to be discovered, revealed for the monster he was, and to do that it would mean to come to terms with himself, that he was no longer... human.

He was still human! Ha! What was he talking about? He had hands, feet, a head on his shoulders. He didn't have a tail, or wings, that's for sure. He had the body and mind of a human, a very unstable one, but human just the same! No, he couldn't remain in this denial much longer. He knew he was a vampire. He had to focus on that reality to survive, and right now, that is what must keep him alive.

Robert could feel the tension in the boy beside him and he only hoped that he could get him into the safety of the Gallery before he lost it and snapped again. He would even forcibly hold the boy's arm and drag him if he needed to, just to keep him safe. They finally made it to the Gallery and Robert pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and letting himself in. He grbbed the boy and dragged him inside, then shut and locked the doors behind them again. He could finally relax, knowing that no-one was in here just now, so they were safe enough. He looked the boy over and smiled apologetically for the rough handling on the way here.

"I'm sorry for that, I just wanted to get you into safety. You.... really don't look well. Now, My name's Robert. Robert Pratt. If you'll come upstairs with me I'll be able to get you some new clothes, some hot water and some blood so you can sate that hunger."

He took a few steps away and then turned back to wait for the boy, ready to lead him to the far end of the gallery and to the left, where there was a spiral staircase that led to an apartment.

"Coming? Then, once you're sorted - we can have a chat"

He smiled kindly at the boy, hoping he'd take him up on the offer.

Logan kept his eyes down, his shoulders down, as if gravity itself were tugging harder at the will of the boy. His feet dragged across the floor, squeaking with ice and water on the clean flooring. He looked up briefly at the staircase, took the rail in hand, and tugged himself up, one step at a time. With each step, he contemplated his situation.

The kind man, Robert Pratt, offered him one too many things. He didn't want to be fed more blood. He just wanted to get in, and get out, no talking, no nothing. He couldn't possibly take more blood. Logan assumed he meant blood packs, but it didn't matter to him. Human blood was human blood. Did this make him a cannibal? No, cannibals were those who ate from their own kind. He was not of human kind.

Denying the offer was his wish. But what good would that do him? He would only starve and be driven mad again like an animal with rabies. This man seemed to have good intentions inside of him, and knew what he was doing. Maybe he would just stay long enough to get warm and comfortable, get some new clothes on.

"Is there... some place I can wash up?" He asked halfway up the stairs, not making eye contact with Robert. He needed to get rid of this blood. The smell and taste in his mouth only kept him halfway in the past, memories of the gorging flashing in his mind.

Nice, hot, warm water... to wash away his sins. Oh how he longed to be warm again.

Robert got up to the top of the stairs and opened the door to the apartment, stepping inside.

"Come on in"

He'd not given his name, and Robert wasn't going to push him. These things took time after all. He closed the door behind them both and took off his coat, hoping the state he was in wouldn't scare the boy too much. He walked over to the bathroom and beckoned to the boy, pointing out everything.

"Bath, shower, sink - use what you like and take as long as you like. The water is very hot mind, so please don't burn yourself. I like it hotter than normal, helps get the chill out of your bones - and I spend a lot of time outside, wandering the city and looking to help people. Now, you run whatever you like, use whatever products you like and just give me a couple of minutes before you start."

He gave the boy a smile and then headed for the bedroom. He still had some clothes here, and he knew there was usually a bag or two of donated clothing ready to go to Solace as well. He searched through everything and finally found a decent pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a cardigan - all of which appeared to be the boys size. The jeans and cardigan were fine - but the T-shirt was a grey colour, with a Nyan cat and rainbow flying across the front. Beggers couldn't be choosers, and if worst came to the worst, he could wear it backwards. Walking back to the bathroom, he knocked gently on the door and called out.

"Hi. I have some clean clothes for you to change into here. Do you want me to leave them at the door, or is it ok to come in? Also, do you prefer human or animal blood to drink?"

He was thinking through what was in the fridge, and trying to remember which anial was which.

Logan was obliged at the idea of a steaming hot shower. He was positively blue from lips to claw. As the steam purged his mind, he entered a state, a trance, of solace. He stood there, water pouring over him, hands balancing himself on the wall. Pink water raced down his face and neck like trails of ants to a hill, rushing to make their quota. He looked down at the water, gazing beyond it, lost without thought.

As soon as he lost his meditative state with a flash of a memory, he lifted his head into the full stream of the water, a full blast of searing water to clear his mind. He inhaled the warmth of the steam, burned in the intensity of the heat. He heard the woman scream in his mind, over and over, pleading for help. He lingered in the water until her screams nearly made his ears bleed.

Then, a knock on the door.

He turned off the water and wrapped himself in a towel, opening the door just slightly ajar enough to let the clothes slip through.

"...animal..." he mumbled.

He knew he needed blood. Animal was his only hope.

Logan set the clothes on the floor beside the sink. He balanced himself with his hands on each side of the bowl of the sink, looking down at the drain, and exhaled. Crystal clear drops escaped his eyes into the drain, muted by his mind. The steam was think in the room, opening every pore in his body, expelling every foulness of dirt and grime. He was being cleansed in the flesh, but the mind...

Look at yourself.

Logan lifted his head to look in the mirror. It was covered in steam, so he swiped some away. He laughed. Of course there was nothing there. He was nothing. Less than nothing. Unworthy.

Not literally you dumb ****.

He sighed and look down towards the clothes. The jeans glided over his skin, fitting just a tad loosely, and just an inch or two too long. Almost perfect. He inspected the t-shirt...

Oh HELL no you are NOT wearing that...

Logan shrugged the voice off and put it on indiscriminately. Nyan cat, no nyan cat; a shirt was a shirt to him. But to ease the pain in his head, he covered the graphic by buttoning up the cardigan as high as it would go.

He emerged from the room, barefoot and clean, wet strands of hair frayed and bouncing as he took each step. His head was down, as usual. He wanted to express his thanks, but his mouth was sewn shut. Instead, he simply twiddled his thumbs, trying to banish his silence.

The door opened a crack, and Robert slipped the clothes through into the waiting hands. He had to admit, he was worried about the boy because he seemed so lost and conflicted, like there was more going on than met the eye. The way he'd talked to himself in the alley.... something was going on in his poor head. To be fair, there was a crapload going on in Robert's head too - but he couldn't think on that at the moment. Not at all. Once the door was closed again, Robert headed through to the kitchen and retrieved the blood packs from the fridge. He brought out two that were marked with a yellow blob, indicating they were rabbit, and then cut open the tops. He squeezed every last drop into a large, pint sized, mug and then popped it into the microwave for a minute, stirring it after 30 seconds. Once it was nice and steaming, he removed it and then did the same for himself, only he took out the blue marked bags as he preferred bear himself.

Mugs filled, he went back to the door and knocked.

"I'm going to the living room. Just to the right of where you are. Join me when you're ready."

Then he headed through and set the mugs down on the table, before moving to the stereo system and putting on some easy listening, background music. Something that would hopefully put the man at ease and fill any uncomfortable silences that might ensue. Turning around, he found his way to his armchair and sat down to wait with a pleasant smile on his face - trying to appear disarming and approachable for when the boy came through.