She was a nobody.
Clenching her teeth, she pressed her palm flat against the wall as the door swung open once again. The hot air washed over her skin, warming the chill of winter from her bones. The sounds that came from within were deafening, the music doing little to drown out the voices for the vampire. Instead, they blended together until they became nothing more than a roar that caused her head to throb. You need to hunt, Danika. Come on, get a hold of yourself, she snapped, though the inner battle did little to loosen the anchor that held her in place. Curling her fingers against the brick, she ducked her head when a security guard looked her way, though his blue eyes seemed to peer right through her to the blondes that were teetering up the path. She could hear their heels against the cement, each step as disoriented as their laugh seemed to be. As they past her, the scent of vodka and bubblegum engulfed her, causing her mouth to water.
Delectable, she laughed, the whisper of a sound missed as the blondes tossed their hair over their shoulders. It was clear they had no money, and yet, the man stepped aside to allow them entry, his hungry gaze locked on their *** as their skirts clung to the ample flesh. What would her life be like if she could have a body like theirs? Would she be able to be within the walls, her fangs deep in the soft, supple throat of one of those beautiful blondes? Enough, Danika. Forcing the thought from her mind, she pushed from the wall and forced her feet to move. She needed to feed, and their scent was too tantalizing to pass up. Ducking behind the large man, she slid between his sweat coated form and the wall until the darkness of the club embraced her.
< Ric > I’ve never been here before. I can see now I’m not missing anything. Why are the bricked walls red? Is it from the blood of the lionelli enemies? Is it to signify what type of people they are? Are they angry? Or just blood thirsty monsters like me? Attracted to the color red. Attracted to blood?
I don’t give this much more thought. I don’t like psychoanalyzing crap. I’ve had that done on me a thousand times before and it’s just a bunch of crap. Mind games. They try and find a connection with you in the things they say, but seldom is it a legitimate connection. It’s along the lines of, ‘I remember this time when I or my kids did this.’ Your kid accidentally sitting on the dog they didn’t see, is like the time I broke a dog’s neck? I see the connection. You’re a dipshit.
Currently, I’m scouting the layout of the building. Looking for hidden walls, loot, treasures and weapon parts. Some things for me, some things for my wife-anything that can be useful. I see a couple of their guys, but they don’t do anything to me. They don’t make a move and I’m not going to make a move. I’m just going to do my own thing until someone initiates something with me.
But no one does. I’m...surprised. I guess. Astounded? Usually people attack others when they don't know what they’re doing in their place-or is that just me? Nah, I think anyone would blow some guy’s brain out if they came home to the guy casing their place. So, are the lionelli friends then? Or are they just sizing me up? Sizing our community up? It’s hard to say, but it would be a really smart move. Damn smart.
All in all, I’m not too impressed with the things I find here. No one is trying to kill me. All I’m finding are wallets with some petty change, and some crappy gun parts that I, nor my wife care about. I feel like I’m wasting my time here. I grab my phone and text my wife, asking where she’s at. I’m pretty sure she’s at the caverns, but she’s at home a lot too. I get a reply back and I start heading home.
<River> Despite the heavy scent of sweat and alcohol, she was able to catch the faint trail of bubblegum. The sweetness overrode everything else, and with a flick of her wrist, she brought her hood into place before ducking between two writhing bodies. She could feel their sweat stick to her clothing, and the knowledge was nauseating. She had never understood the animalistic urge that took over most people and possessed them to spend their nights in a crowded room with the air so thick and hot, it was suffocating. Yet, as she glanced across the faces twisted in pleasure and alcohol induced ecstasy, it was if they didn’t care. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus on the one thing that would draw her into a nightmare like this - blood.
With practiced ease, she slid through the throng of people until she neared the end of the cluster, where the music wasn’t as deafening and there was room to breathe. It was there she found her prey, their slender forms pressed tightly together in a single bench. Closing her eyes, she drew the shadows around her body and edged her way towards them, her fingers brushing across the back of their necks. She watched as they trembled, before she gave another slow shake of her head. The scent up close was intoxicating, and she found she was losing herself in it. Curling her fingers into the silken strands of the nearest blonde, she slammed her head forward, the sound of her nose connecting with the edge of the table sending a shiver down her spine. Before the other had a chance to react, she snapped her head to the side and sank her fangs in deep - only to shudder at bitter taste that pooled down her throat.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” a quiet voice spoke as she recoiled, and she found herself staring into the deepest emerald pools she had ever witnessed. The blonde smoothed her hair out over her shoulder, before moving to lift her companion into her side. A thin trail of blood trickled from her nose, and yet, she could tell by the way the air wheezed through her nasal cavity that she was alive. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus on the twisted features of her supposed victim instead of the way the scent of the others blood filled her senses. “I don’t like it when people hurt what’s mine, and you’ve all but crushed Yvonne’s skull,” she continued as she brushed her fingers lovingly down her friend’s face before gripping her neck. “Pity.” With a single twist of her wrist, she shattered the bone and stood, letting Yvonne’s corpse fall to the floor.
What the hell have I done?
Shaking her head, she held her hands up as she stumbled back a step, panic causing her muscles to coil. She hadn’t felt like this since her turning, and she hated the uneasiness that settled in the pit of her stomach. As the rogue dipped her hand beneath her skirt, she slid back towards the exit, her hand already reaching for her cell. The neon lights danced off of the blade as she pulled out her dagger, and her cherry pink lips twisted into a cruel smirk. Not here, not now. Roderic would never forgive me, she thought as she dropped her gaze to the woman’s weapon. Keeping her hand buried in the pocket of her hoodie, she slid her fingers over the screen, knowing that out of the four numbers in her contacts, her message was bound to reach one.
[Text] Club in wickbridge. Alley. urgent.
As soon as she hit send, she slammed her boot into the metal door behind her, and stepped out into the frigid night, knowing the rogue would follow.
< Ric > I’ve decided to walk, because it’s a nice night and I hate trains. At least the trains in this city. Most cities have multiple transits, but this one has a single train that takes a person to at least two different stops (if not more), before getting to the stop they want. What gives? Whoever thought of that design, wasn’t too clever in my opinion. But, that makes at least eighty-five percent of this population, if not ninety. I’m leaning more towards the latter, but some people think I’m just a skeptical asshole. I probably am. I’m okay with that.
I’m walking past the gullsborough train station when my phone buzzes for another time. I imagine it’s my wife, which is a little strange, because we’ve just talked. And Skylar isn’t one of those wives. The type that asks you to go to the store to pick up a gallon of milk, even if she can drink the stuff. She knows I hate people and I hate shopping. She rarely (read: never) asks me to do something unless it’s life threatening.
I put the code into my phone to unlock it and see it’s from River. That’s mildly unexpected, and I even stop to read the text. I can multi-task, but if she needs something-which I imagine she does, I’m not going to keep walking in the wrong direction. Unless it’s the right direction. I just decide to stay put and see what River might want or need.
She’s kind of cryptic, that one. A club in Wickbridge. Is that that pub, or that club near Beta towers? Or the one by the mall? Women, I think with a shake of my head. Everyone has a different perception of what a club is. Me? I think anything that sells booze and has music, which could lead people to dancing and acting stupid, is a club. Skylar wouldn’t agree and I doubt RIver would either.
I type out my reply as I start walking in the direction I had been going, but was going to veer to my left and cross the river near the QZ to get to the flats. Which club? I think there’s two or three? I honestly don’t even know or care to look in my phone via google to search for ‘clubs in Wickbridge district,’ because the number won’t help me decipher which is the right club. I need direct instructions on which club to go to.
<River> The wind was relentless as it danced across her bared skin, chilling her to the bone. She regretted the retreat the moment she felt the snow dust her hair, yet, she knew that she hadn’t had a choice. The heat of the rogue’s glare seared into the back of her skull, bringing with it a fury so powerful, it nearly caused her knees to buckle. If she had remained within the walls of the club, she had no doubt that there would have been casualties. Curling her fingers until she felt the pressure of her nails against her palms, she fought the painful twist of her stomach as she staggered into the snow, her sneakers slipping on a patch of ice. Ducking behind the nearest dumpster, she had a brief flashback of her death, and quickly shook her head. I’m stronger now. I can handle this, she hissed in her mind as she tilted her head, listening for the telltale sign of the rogue’s heels against the pavement.
It only took a few seconds before the soft swish of the door broke the silence, followed quickly by the sharp click of her heel as she stepped of the ramp. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she rested her head back against the cold, dirty green metal, and closed her eyes. Her stomach was in knots, and the sensation of being burned alive from the inside made it difficult to concentrate. She hadn’t a doubt in her mind that had she still been human, she would have been comatose by now from the pure agony. What have I done? The question continued to rush through her mind as she forced her hand into her pocket, her trembling, clammy fingers wrapping around her cell as the soft hum vibrated against her thigh. Yanking it free and silencing it before it could reach the blonde’s ears, she ran her fingers against the screen and frowned.
[Text] Near the transit.
Can’t miss it.
Long line outfront.
I’m in the alley.
Follow the blood.
Can’t miss it.
Long line outfront.
I’m in the alley.
Follow the blood.
She wasn’t a fighter, not by any means, but she had learned fast to defend herself. In her new world, it was do or die - and she wasn’t about to die. Not again. It didn’t matter that she found herself worthless, that she knew she was undeserving of the gift he had given her. There was some part of her, some unknown persona that refused to give in. It was if it didn’t matter how bleak and lifeless her existence was, there was something inside of her that wanted to suffer. I’m demented, she thought as she cocked her head, concentrating on the blonde as the click of her heels echoed off the walls. She was growing closer, and yet, her steps were hesitant, as if she was uncertain of her path.
Clutching her hand against her stomach as a fresh wave of pain nearly doubled her over, she braced her back against the dumpster and pulled her hood up. Bide your time. React fast. Don’t let her win. Get up, River. Fight! It seemed as if time stood still. The blonde was approaching, the scent of bubblegum, blood and vodka permeating the foul stench of the garbage, and she held that useless breath as she waited for the right moment. The second she stepped past her shadowed hiding spot, she kicked her leg out, sweeping the rogue off of her feet. Before she had a chance to react, she was falling backwards, her arms outstretched as if to stop her descent. Surprise had given River the advantage, and she quickly leaped to her feet, her fingers clutching her silken golden strands in her fist. Rage glittered in the rogue’s eyes, and with a feral snarl, she reacted, her leg hooking behind her knees. With a quick pull, she yanked her down and tossed her hand out, her fingers clawing across her face. The black blood hung briefly in the air before disappearing, leaving nothing but an angry gash in her cheek as a reminder.
Is she really going to resort to cat fighting?
With a soft sound, the shadow slammed her fist into her side, the strength causing the bones in her ribs to give way with a loud, painful crack that was nearly drowned out beneath the rogue’s sharp cry. Dazed and confused, she left her guard down long enough for River to scramble back, her mismatched eyes narrowed as she reached behind her and curled her fingers around the hilt of her blade before she pulled it from beneath the her hoodie.