It had been a long time since Jesse had fed from a live target.
Mainly because when not hunting with Tytonidae, or trying to find Unholy Relics, he was inside with Grey. Necromancer abilities meant that he didn’t have to feed. He could heal himself, and no blood ever needed to be consumed. Not only that, but he had constant and easy access to blood bags. Neither, however, do much to satisfy the insatiable thirst that always burns and claws mercilessly at the back of his throat. He doesn’t watch the news. Doesn’t listen to the news. He is in his own little world as he heads out into the city streets to find himself a victim. There’s a restlessness that sometimes sinks into the marrows of his bones, and he wants nothing more than to pin some hapless human against a wall somewhere, to drain them of every single last drop of their hot, thriving blood.
The best place to find said victims? Nightclubs, of course. Though something could be done about the horrible music at most of these places, Jesse chooses not to listen. Instead, he focuses on the rhythm of the combined heartbeats. Some slow and some fast, some lazy and some erratic. He slips in to the thriving hot mess of gyrating bodies and revels in the humanity. It’s as if he is a man who has been walking through a desert, deprived of water. And now he has suddenly found a very real oasis.
He blends into this Necropolis crowd with his black jumper and his black boots. He’d even raided Grey’s make-up and rubbed black around his eyes – because he could. And why not? If he was going to try to lure one of these emo goth girls into some dark corner, then he had to look the part.
When the music stops and the evacuation process is enacted, Jesse is in a booth in one of the toilets. He has a girl pushed into the far back corner, her eyes rolled back into her head as his teeth are sunk into the vein of her neck. He’d only just started, and he likes to take his time. He likes to savour the hot taste. He likes to relish those few minutes where the thirst abates and he is free of its fury. He doesn’t believe that he’s giving this girl pleasure – though maybe, inadvertently, he is. Grey can’t possibly have an issue with it, however, as the girl will die. Technically, Jesse muses, he isn’t really doing anything that she should dislike.
The blood is almost salty. It is not the blood of a virgin. But it is tasty, nonetheless. Fresh, and robust. The toilets are dead silent when Jesse finishes. He makes sure the wound is sealed as he props the corpse up on the toilet. He’ll leave her there, for the time being, while he goes to find out what’s going on. He leaves the cubicle door locked as he launches over the top of it.
As Jesse exits the bathroom, a flustered employee goes to enter. Jesse inadvertently blocks his path.
“Anyone else in there, man?” the guy asks. Jesse blinks and shakes his head.
“Good, okay, you should go. The storm’s pretty fucked up out there,” he says, before rushing off himself. As if he’s got somewhere to be and he doesn’t want to be checking every nook and cranny for people who might be left behind. When Jesse reaches the main part of the club, most people are gone – it had been close to closing time anyway, so there weren’t too many to evacuate. Before he can decide what he would do next, the foundations begin to shake. A low rumble at first, but soon it turns violent. Of course, the first thing Jesse thinks about is Grey. But when the ground is moving like it is, he only just manages to find a doorway to crouch in, let alone go rifling through his pockets for his tome.
All the lights go out. Jesse’s teeth grind together as he clutches at the wall for support, his feet spread for balance. Somewhere over near the bar area, there’s an explosion – there’s fire. The foundation is ripped asunder, and from somewhere, water comes pouring in. Jesse doesn’t know how long the earthquake lasts, but when it’s finished, he has to wonder:
Is this it? Is this the beginning of the end for vampire kind? Is this the beginning of another vampire apocalypse? And he realises he has to get home.
Mainly because when not hunting with Tytonidae, or trying to find Unholy Relics, he was inside with Grey. Necromancer abilities meant that he didn’t have to feed. He could heal himself, and no blood ever needed to be consumed. Not only that, but he had constant and easy access to blood bags. Neither, however, do much to satisfy the insatiable thirst that always burns and claws mercilessly at the back of his throat. He doesn’t watch the news. Doesn’t listen to the news. He is in his own little world as he heads out into the city streets to find himself a victim. There’s a restlessness that sometimes sinks into the marrows of his bones, and he wants nothing more than to pin some hapless human against a wall somewhere, to drain them of every single last drop of their hot, thriving blood.
The best place to find said victims? Nightclubs, of course. Though something could be done about the horrible music at most of these places, Jesse chooses not to listen. Instead, he focuses on the rhythm of the combined heartbeats. Some slow and some fast, some lazy and some erratic. He slips in to the thriving hot mess of gyrating bodies and revels in the humanity. It’s as if he is a man who has been walking through a desert, deprived of water. And now he has suddenly found a very real oasis.
He blends into this Necropolis crowd with his black jumper and his black boots. He’d even raided Grey’s make-up and rubbed black around his eyes – because he could. And why not? If he was going to try to lure one of these emo goth girls into some dark corner, then he had to look the part.
When the music stops and the evacuation process is enacted, Jesse is in a booth in one of the toilets. He has a girl pushed into the far back corner, her eyes rolled back into her head as his teeth are sunk into the vein of her neck. He’d only just started, and he likes to take his time. He likes to savour the hot taste. He likes to relish those few minutes where the thirst abates and he is free of its fury. He doesn’t believe that he’s giving this girl pleasure – though maybe, inadvertently, he is. Grey can’t possibly have an issue with it, however, as the girl will die. Technically, Jesse muses, he isn’t really doing anything that she should dislike.
The blood is almost salty. It is not the blood of a virgin. But it is tasty, nonetheless. Fresh, and robust. The toilets are dead silent when Jesse finishes. He makes sure the wound is sealed as he props the corpse up on the toilet. He’ll leave her there, for the time being, while he goes to find out what’s going on. He leaves the cubicle door locked as he launches over the top of it.
As Jesse exits the bathroom, a flustered employee goes to enter. Jesse inadvertently blocks his path.
“Anyone else in there, man?” the guy asks. Jesse blinks and shakes his head.
“Good, okay, you should go. The storm’s pretty fucked up out there,” he says, before rushing off himself. As if he’s got somewhere to be and he doesn’t want to be checking every nook and cranny for people who might be left behind. When Jesse reaches the main part of the club, most people are gone – it had been close to closing time anyway, so there weren’t too many to evacuate. Before he can decide what he would do next, the foundations begin to shake. A low rumble at first, but soon it turns violent. Of course, the first thing Jesse thinks about is Grey. But when the ground is moving like it is, he only just manages to find a doorway to crouch in, let alone go rifling through his pockets for his tome.
All the lights go out. Jesse’s teeth grind together as he clutches at the wall for support, his feet spread for balance. Somewhere over near the bar area, there’s an explosion – there’s fire. The foundation is ripped asunder, and from somewhere, water comes pouring in. Jesse doesn’t know how long the earthquake lasts, but when it’s finished, he has to wonder:
Is this it? Is this the beginning of the end for vampire kind? Is this the beginning of another vampire apocalypse? And he realises he has to get home.
[Attire]
