Post by Michaela on Jun 28, 2005 0:05:59 GMT
Well, it's been a long, long, loooooooong while since I last wrote any of this, but I was flipping through it's pages earlier and decided I really liked it. But there were some blaring errors and inconcistencies in it that I hated... And now, because I know where I want the story to go, I want to make it a lot less severed and fragmented. Yes, I actually intend to -finish- this now. Gasp shock!
Anyhow, since there are a lot of you that haven't read even the first bit yet, I'll post that for you before I really get stared. There have been some minor modifications to the first chapter... essentially, it's the same. Chapter two is where things start noticably changing.
Cheers.
-------------------------------
Chapter One –
A short, thick man stood behind the counter in a run down corner store. His pale hair was greasy, sparse, and had long ago begun its northerly climb to the peak of his head. To the woman in front of him, it seemed little wonder that his hair had fled his face, as puckered and sour as it was. “That everything?” He asked gruffly, punching a series of buttons on the cash machine.
The woman watched him with unconcealed interest. There was no doubt that he held her in contempt, but the older man’s scrutiny forced her into a smile. Leaning across the counter, she pointed at a glass case that hung on the cluttered wall behind him. “I’ll take two of those.”
He blinked a few times and stared at her, dumbly. She found herself wondering why people always seemed to be so slow; it wasn’t really all that complicated. After he’d had a moment to collect his thoughts, he spoke again.
”I’ll need to see some ID, missy.” The girl raised a brow in mock amusement. “I don’t think you need to see anything.”
Heaving a sigh, the chubby shopkeeper slammed the drawer of his cash machine closed. “No ID, no cigarettes. Them’s the law.”
”Them’s the law,” she repeated in hushed tones, her smile twisting slightly. A dangerous glint reflected off her silver eyes, seeming to make them dance as she stood there, considering him. In her mind she ran over all the different ways she could make him scream. Highly polished metal biting, scraping, pulling at skin. Cold steel bathed in warm liquid that pumped forth from severed arteries, throbbing with life, about to ebb. Burning fluid that stood out against the night like acid on virgin snow.
She could just see herself slipping a cold blade into his belly, slitting him open, and skinning him while he still lived. Listening to every muffled gasp of pain and horror as he watched his flesh skillfully peeled from his body. Heavens knew there was enough of it to keep her busy for some time.
The idea was discarded almost as quickly as it had surfaced - he’d bleed to death before she ever finished, no matter how careful she was. He was just too big. Taking a step closer to the counter, she spoke again, any mirth in her expression totally dissipated.
”Now, I want you listen to me. Very closely.” Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, she hauled his bulky frame halfway across the polished counter-top. “I know that you know I’m over 19. I know that you’re only giving me a hard time because of the way I dress. I know that, contrary to popular belief, there isn’t a shotgun behind that counter. I also know that I can rip your throat out and take off with half of your merchandise quite a time before the police ever responded to that little red button under your finger.” He blanched. “And now you know, too.”
There was a long pause where the two just stared at each other, the woman’s eyes cold and unforgiving, his wide and horrified with the realization that her threat was far from empty. His voice rose up, stammering and somewhat fearful, to break the silence. “Regular? Or light?” The woman rewarded his surrender with a satisfied grin. “Regular.”
Two minutes later the door swung open, her exit announced by the tinkling of a bell. Bathed in harsh halogen light, the woman reached into her pocket for a lighter and lit up one of her hard-won smokes. Gazing out passively across the small, run-down gas stop, she allowed her mind to wander over the events of the past few days. The hotel rooms she’d paid double her time for, because checkout was at noon. The rushed meals, the lack of them, and the interesting people she’d met on her way. The demons that kept her running. Mercifully, the quiet whirring of an engine interrupted her thoughts there, and pulled her back to the present.
She watched absently as an old, red Cadillac pulled up to ‘Pump 3’ and a young man, probably no older than 25, stepped out. His sandy brown hair was all askew, and was in sore need of a trim. She supposed it was the style now, overgrown hair. It hadn’t ever really done much for her. She’d only ever met one man that did the look any justice... With an indignant huff, she ground out the cherry of her cigarette in the palm of her hand, and lit another.
As the minutes ticked by, she found her gaze irresistibly drawn back to pump 3, and the youth that stood next to it. She rolled her eyes in exasperation when she noticed the way he watched her, even as the meter on the gas pump behind him rose, without his knowledge, past the 50-dollar mark. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips when his tank overflowed. It spilled foul smelling liquid all over him, and turned the bare asphalt beneath his feet into a miniature pond. Cursing, he jumped up and hastily slammed the pump back into its cradle.
When he walked up beside her the black haired woman pretended not to notice, and took another puff off her shrinking cigarette. After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, he tried to wow her with some lame pick-up line, probably one of many other equally impressive ones in his arsenal. “Hey baby,” he cooed. “You look lonely, want some company?” She glanced over at him with distaste. “A little old to be pissing your pants, wouldn’t you think?” He’d managed to spill gasoline all down the inside of his left thigh, and blushed an easy crimson when she reminded him of his stupidity. Muttering something she didn’t catch, probably some excuse as to why he had to leave, he hurried into the shop to pay for the gas. Half of it he wouldn’t even use - but it didn’t need to go to waste, now, did it?
A mischievous smirk spread across her features, and checking behind her to see if anyone was watching, the woman walked hurriedly towards his car. Her heavy leather boots clunked most of the way, then splashed in imagined dismay as she made her way through the rainbow colored liquid that lolled across the pavement next to the vehicle.
Like most arrogant fools his age, the boy had left his keys in the ignition. That made things much simpler. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she revved the engine and pulled away from the station, flicking the live butt of her cigarette out the car window as she went. It landed in the puddle on the ground, igniting a blaze that quickly swallowed the pumps. Two figures ran after her, screaming. One was short and round, the other tall, his pants still soaked. In this light, it really did look like he’d pissed himself. Maybe he had when he realized the girl out front had just taken off with his baby.
Picking up a pair of sunglasses from the dash, she slipped them over her face and pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. The wheels squealed in protest, burning rubber on the road, and the old Cadillac took off down the highway at break-neck speed. In her rear-view mirror she caught a glimpse of a roaring inferno as it stretched upwards to the sky, an orange mushroom of heat and light. The pumps had blown.
It was roughly two a.m. The woman still cruised down the highway in her stolen car, watching the road-signs as they sped past in a blur or reflective yellow and black. The radio was blaring loudly, and some unknown performer screamed through the pitiful speakers at her side. Every time she hit a bump they cut out entirely, and it was sometimes a full five minutes before they came back again. She winced inwardly and wondered why the boy hadn’t put in proper sound equipment. A quick glance over the back seat told her he had intended too, but wouldn’t ever get around to it.
Tools, wiring, and multiple polished parts glittered up at her from the plush seats behind the passenger side. If she was any kind of mechanic, she’d pull over where she was and do something about the crappy heap she’d saddled herself with. Luckily, it was only a temporary ride. She’d pick up something nicer when she got home.
As the hours passed, she noted the line at the horizon that now differentiated sky from land. It would be sun-up soon, and she didn’t want to be caught in the light. Steering with one hand, she leaned over and dug around behind her seat. After a few moments she pulled her hand back, clutching a can of blue spray-paint. It was half empty, but would have to go the distance.
A bridge loomed up ahead of her, and pulling sharply right on the wheel, she veered off the road and into the ditch that led under it. A slight flurry of dust kicked up in her wake. She got out, slammed the door behind her, and violently shook the can, contemplating where she should start. Pressing down on the spray head, she bathed the front windshield in garish, sky-colored paint. Working in a counter-clockwise direction, she managed to cover all six windows, having to use a cloth to make it stretch over the very last. Small amounts of light would get through that, but if she leaned herself against the back window on the passenger side, it wouldn’t reach her. After blacking out the glass, she popped the trunk and busied herself transferring the litter out of the back seat; there was no way she’d lie down next to grease and auto-parts.
It had been over a month since the woman had left her previous home, and her current actions had become somewhat of a routine. She'd gone on a bit of a tour of the US, and was currently wanted in thirteen states for property destruction, theft under one thousand dollars, assaulting an officer, grand theft auto, breaking and entering, and attempted murder. Of course, when she’d actually killed, they didn’t find the bodies. Or what was left of them, anyways.
When she finally finished cleaning things out the sun was just peeking over the horizon, bathing the world in ethereal orange light. Slipping back into the passenger seat, she slammed the door closed and tilted the chair back. Her new sunglasses still precariously perched on her nose; the girl drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Not long after, she woke with a start as the world came smashing in around her.
The woman shot upright and cried out when the front windshield shattered inwards, bathing her in the searing light of the sun. Scurrying to the back of the car, she covered her head with her black leather jacket and pushed her shades up onto her nose.
A tall, pale youth stood on the hood of her car, brandishing a shovel. Her fine blonde hair fell around her body in sheets, and her face was hidden in darkness by the offensive light that framed her back.
”Michaela.” Her rich voice flowed forth coldly. Mich rolled her eyes, something that she’d been doing rather often of late. “It’s you again.” Her own voice rose, as cold as the first, and with a touch of cynicism. “Come to play another round?” The pale haired woman, or girl, really, slammed the butt of her shovel into the roof of the car, caving it in.
”I guess that’s a yes.” Booting the side door open, Mich threw herself out of the car and hurried to the shaded safety of the bridge. The swinging shovel trailed not far behind. Free of the sun’s rays, she shrugged her coat back over her shoulders, wound up, and slugged the other girl square in the jaw. Staggering backwards, she dropped the shovel to the ground.
As the once garden instrument now improvised weapon clattered to the earth, Mich slammed the ball of her foot onto the nose of it, sending the handle flying back upwards. Catching it as it launched towards her, she gripped it firmly, and let fly.
The metallic spade bit into the blond girl’s face with a sickening thud that rang through the entire valley. Collapsing to her knees, and then further to her hands, the youth trembled violently, resisting the urge to vomit. Michaela's tremendous, unnatural strength could have easily rendered the child's skull to powder, and only intense knowledge of her ability had prevented that from happening. As it was, not a bone had crumpled inwards... though there was serious potential for hairline fractures.
”Allie.” Mich muttered to herself. “Last time I ran into you I told you I’d kill you. Why didn’t you believe me?” The girl, gasping for breath, managed to choke out a few words. “I believed you.”
“Then why on earth have you followed me this far?” The woman leaned over and studied her face. She couldn’t be older than 17, and she really was too beautiful for this business.
Allie spat at Mich, a deep, burning hatred evident in the child’s eyes. “You took everything from me, Vampire. I’m going to kill you, or die trying.”
Michaela observed that the second was more likely, and then delivered a measured blow to the side of the girl’s head with her boot, plunging her into unconsciousness.
Unwilling to risk a trek back to the Cadillac for rope, Mich took a knife and cut long strips from the cuffs of Allie’s pants. They were ugly, anyways, and looked like they’d be tough to tear. There was no way she’d mar her own leather jumpsuit, and she’d die before taking a blade to the coat, so this would have to do for now.
After she was satisfied she’d bound the girl up at every available place, Mich dusted herself off and walked over to a wooden support beam that held the bridge above her. Seating herself on it, she rested her chin on her hands and watched the girl as she slept.
She looked so peaceful, as nearly every being did when held by darkness, but appearances could be deceiving. The vampiress understood the tumult of emotion that raged beneath her smooth surface, herself being its cause.
Her travels through North America had been marked with much excitement, but this girl’s tale was the most colorful of them all. She’d first run into her in a small back country town in Louisiana, where a few of the locals had discovered Mich’s breeding (so to speak) was different from their own. They’d decided to try and snuff her out.
Many had died that night, and the entire town was burnt to the ground by morning. Mich seemed to have a fascination with fire - or rather, with burning.
Allie’s family had been killed. Since then she’d been dogging Mich’s heels relentlessly, following at night, plotting during the day - it was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed from sheer exhaustion. But Michaela, ever patient, and always willing to indulge in the intrigue of a new game, had given her the space to play however she desired.
Twice now, Mich had come close to death, risking all her pieces in a fools gamble. She’d been getting more reckless, of late. Proof of that was the small sliver pendant that hung around her neck. The only thing the separated the biting metal from her flesh was skin-tight leather. And she’d never smoked before, considering it a filthy habit. Now she went through nearly a pack a day. It wasn’t a big deal, physically, as vampires didn’t need to breathe, but it was the thought behind it that was unnerving.
The reason for her deteriorated state was the same reason she had fled her previous home and was now picking her way across the countryside to the old island manor. If anyone asked her what force pushed her mercilessly onward, the question would either enrage her, or be pointedly ignored. It wasn’t something she liked to think about; the way it exposed to herself and the world around her small flaws in character. Weaknesses that had slowly developed over time, without her knowledge, that now left wide gouges in her defense, capable of rendering her totally vincible to outside attack. She’d started running to avoid it, to forget, but every day, when she settled down to sleep, the events invaded her mind. They drug her back to them, screaming, if she wasn’t so exhausted that dreams were too much an effort to form. She’d gotten good at pushing herself to that point.
And then there was the constant thrill seeking. Jumping hastily from one high to another, trying in vain to fill a void that spanned out wider than any canyon. It would work, for a time, until silence crept in and strangled her with icy cold hands. Sleep was her worst enemy, along with the stillness she had once loved.
Stretching out her legs, Michaela leaned back against the post, her eyes never once leaving Allie. It would be about eight hours before darkness fell. She was stuck waiting, stranded, alone. And now, fully conscious. It was going to be one hell of a day.
A brilliant explosion of light ricocheted through the world. Whistling behind it, the splintering sound of breaking glass created a powerful shockwave. China. Ceramics. Something far more valuable than that.
Cold waves of fear and nausea clutched relentlessly, grating icy flesh, clawing, begging surrender. Burning pangs of regret and aching need enveloped all, and then, clouded in what the future could only bring, sheets of suffocating blackness poured in from all sides. Stealing the hope. Stealing the life. Pressing in on her chest like leaden weights, forcing the air from her lungs.
Stealing the hope. Stealing the life.
Mich sat bolt upright, her entire body covered in a glistening sheen of icy sweat. She coughed violently, trying to force imagined water from her throat, so the air she didn't need could find it's way into her body; so that she could continue to live.
She was already dead.
"What's your problem, Vampire? Bad dream?" Allie stared over at her from her place in the dirt, her swollen, bloody face pushed into as much of an arrogant smirk as she could muster. How long had the girl been awake? Glancing around at the darkening sky, Mich turned her mind to more important matters; matters like how long she'd been sleeping. Definitely longer than she'd like. That fitful spurt of blackness offered no rest.
"Shut your face, girl, before I do it for you." Pulling a small packet from her pocket, she flipped it open and held the last cigarette to her lips. She lit it, took a single puff, and decided it tasted like crap. Making a face, she dropped it to the ground.
Forcibly grinding the smoldering stick into the dirt, Mich tossed it's empty packet over her shoulder and fiddled with her lighter. One more useless habit marked, toyed with, and consequently discarded. She'd gone through countless many of them in the last week, not bothering to take note of the days prior even to that.
"I'd say it'll be dark enough for me to wander around in about an hour." Still flicking the lid of her lighter back and forth, and consequently, it's flame on and off, the vampiress regarded Allie with amusement. "You scared?"
"Why should I be?" The girl voiced back, her expression dauntless. "I have nothing left for you to take from me."
Mich's amused grin twisted to one of malicious intent. That little wench had just challenged her. Well, they'd see if she had anything left to take, then. Obviously she didn't value what little remained anyways.
"Good, I'm glad then. We're going to have a spot of fun, you and I." Her silver eyes sparkled somewhat in the scattered, dimming light. "Quite a bit of fun."
Once the sun rested safely below the horizon line, Michaela stood, slung Allie's heavily bound form over her shoulder, and started walking. She ignored completely the frantic beating her hard-bought prize inflicted on her in it's vain attempt at escape. Or maybe she wasn't trying to escape at all - simply to be as annoying as humanly possible.
Humans could be QUITE annoying.
"You having fun up there?" The vampiress asked off-hand, receiving only an infuriated grunt and several more measured blows in response. "I figured as much."
It was probably going to be a good three hours before they reached Mich's home, having taken the ferry the night before. Good thing, too. Swimming it would have been difficult with her current load; she would have had to lighten it prematurely. And that wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining.
The minutes ticked by in a dull, melodic droll, far too slowly for the liking of either of the pair, and the remnants of the day's heat as it steamed up off the black ashvault was nothing to warm Allie's bared legs and arms. Gooseflesh rose up on her skin, cold and pimply, just moments before she began to shiver.
Mich hardly ever noticed the cold, really, but to a human being, temperature was vitally important.
Allie was shivering so bad that her teeth were chattering loudly before she made any effort to complain. When she finally did, it was a simple comment, but Michaela understood fully what was meant by it.
"It's a bit chill out tonight," the girl managed to sneak past the incessant click of hardened tooth enamel.
"Did you want to stop?" Mich asked, rather surprised at herself. What did she care if Allie froze to death? She'd just spent the last month trying to kill her! Allie forced speech again, slipping as much sarcasm into her words as she could manage. "No, wouldn't want to slow you down, after all. We're so close to where we're heading..."
Mumbling a reply, Mich kept walking. About twenty minutes later, shivering convulsively, Allie spoke again. "If you still want to stop, I'll let you..."
A wry smile touching her lips, Mich dropped her load into the ditch next to her. Allie landed with a thud that no doubt stung quite a bit, as frozen as her flesh was. Being tied up, there was nothing the girl could do about it.
There was a sharp bite in the air tonight - no way Allie would make it back to the manor with all of her fingers and toes, with the way she was dressed. Likely she’d lose a considerable amount of skin to frost-bite. "Damned October nights..."
Heaving a sigh, Mich pulled a dagger from her belt and leaned down to cut the girl's bonds. Sensing an opportunity, Allie lunged forward and sank her teeth into the Vampiress' hand.
When Mich recoiled in shock, the girl bolted. She traveled only about a meter before coming to an abrupt and painful stop.
Weaving her fingers into the fine hair at the base of the girl's skull as she passed by, Mich yanked back sharply, eliciting a small gasp from the fragile girl before tossing her roughly back into the dirt.
When Mich's hand pulled free of the tangled mass of blonde hair, it brought with it a fair amount of golden down. It was quite pretty actually... Allie struggled to her feet again, ever the fighter, but she made even less progress this attempt, brought to a shuddering halt by a firm blow to the gut.
She doubled over and wretched the contents of her stomach all over the side of the road.
"Let's not try that again," Mich whispered into the girl's ear as she heaved. "I won't be so kind next time."
When Allie had finished there was an absent look of defeat on her features. She would offer no more of a fight tonight; it was too cold, she was too tired, too sore, and by far too hungry.
Slipping her own heavy leather jacket from her shoulders, Mich wrapped it around Allie's form, nearly as cold as the vampiress herself. She carefully zipped it up and clasped together all the buttons, tightened the fasten at the back, and tucked Allie's hands into the sleeves so they'd stay warm before tying her up again. "See? I'm really not that bad of a person, Allie. Not once you get to know me." She hefted the girl's frail frame back over her shoulder again, and started walking.
"Don't you worry, we'll have enough time to get properly acquainted."
Anyhow, since there are a lot of you that haven't read even the first bit yet, I'll post that for you before I really get stared. There have been some minor modifications to the first chapter... essentially, it's the same. Chapter two is where things start noticably changing.
Cheers.
-------------------------------
Chapter One –
A short, thick man stood behind the counter in a run down corner store. His pale hair was greasy, sparse, and had long ago begun its northerly climb to the peak of his head. To the woman in front of him, it seemed little wonder that his hair had fled his face, as puckered and sour as it was. “That everything?” He asked gruffly, punching a series of buttons on the cash machine.
The woman watched him with unconcealed interest. There was no doubt that he held her in contempt, but the older man’s scrutiny forced her into a smile. Leaning across the counter, she pointed at a glass case that hung on the cluttered wall behind him. “I’ll take two of those.”
He blinked a few times and stared at her, dumbly. She found herself wondering why people always seemed to be so slow; it wasn’t really all that complicated. After he’d had a moment to collect his thoughts, he spoke again.
”I’ll need to see some ID, missy.” The girl raised a brow in mock amusement. “I don’t think you need to see anything.”
Heaving a sigh, the chubby shopkeeper slammed the drawer of his cash machine closed. “No ID, no cigarettes. Them’s the law.”
”Them’s the law,” she repeated in hushed tones, her smile twisting slightly. A dangerous glint reflected off her silver eyes, seeming to make them dance as she stood there, considering him. In her mind she ran over all the different ways she could make him scream. Highly polished metal biting, scraping, pulling at skin. Cold steel bathed in warm liquid that pumped forth from severed arteries, throbbing with life, about to ebb. Burning fluid that stood out against the night like acid on virgin snow.
She could just see herself slipping a cold blade into his belly, slitting him open, and skinning him while he still lived. Listening to every muffled gasp of pain and horror as he watched his flesh skillfully peeled from his body. Heavens knew there was enough of it to keep her busy for some time.
The idea was discarded almost as quickly as it had surfaced - he’d bleed to death before she ever finished, no matter how careful she was. He was just too big. Taking a step closer to the counter, she spoke again, any mirth in her expression totally dissipated.
”Now, I want you listen to me. Very closely.” Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, she hauled his bulky frame halfway across the polished counter-top. “I know that you know I’m over 19. I know that you’re only giving me a hard time because of the way I dress. I know that, contrary to popular belief, there isn’t a shotgun behind that counter. I also know that I can rip your throat out and take off with half of your merchandise quite a time before the police ever responded to that little red button under your finger.” He blanched. “And now you know, too.”
There was a long pause where the two just stared at each other, the woman’s eyes cold and unforgiving, his wide and horrified with the realization that her threat was far from empty. His voice rose up, stammering and somewhat fearful, to break the silence. “Regular? Or light?” The woman rewarded his surrender with a satisfied grin. “Regular.”
*****
Two minutes later the door swung open, her exit announced by the tinkling of a bell. Bathed in harsh halogen light, the woman reached into her pocket for a lighter and lit up one of her hard-won smokes. Gazing out passively across the small, run-down gas stop, she allowed her mind to wander over the events of the past few days. The hotel rooms she’d paid double her time for, because checkout was at noon. The rushed meals, the lack of them, and the interesting people she’d met on her way. The demons that kept her running. Mercifully, the quiet whirring of an engine interrupted her thoughts there, and pulled her back to the present.
She watched absently as an old, red Cadillac pulled up to ‘Pump 3’ and a young man, probably no older than 25, stepped out. His sandy brown hair was all askew, and was in sore need of a trim. She supposed it was the style now, overgrown hair. It hadn’t ever really done much for her. She’d only ever met one man that did the look any justice... With an indignant huff, she ground out the cherry of her cigarette in the palm of her hand, and lit another.
As the minutes ticked by, she found her gaze irresistibly drawn back to pump 3, and the youth that stood next to it. She rolled her eyes in exasperation when she noticed the way he watched her, even as the meter on the gas pump behind him rose, without his knowledge, past the 50-dollar mark. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips when his tank overflowed. It spilled foul smelling liquid all over him, and turned the bare asphalt beneath his feet into a miniature pond. Cursing, he jumped up and hastily slammed the pump back into its cradle.
When he walked up beside her the black haired woman pretended not to notice, and took another puff off her shrinking cigarette. After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, he tried to wow her with some lame pick-up line, probably one of many other equally impressive ones in his arsenal. “Hey baby,” he cooed. “You look lonely, want some company?” She glanced over at him with distaste. “A little old to be pissing your pants, wouldn’t you think?” He’d managed to spill gasoline all down the inside of his left thigh, and blushed an easy crimson when she reminded him of his stupidity. Muttering something she didn’t catch, probably some excuse as to why he had to leave, he hurried into the shop to pay for the gas. Half of it he wouldn’t even use - but it didn’t need to go to waste, now, did it?
A mischievous smirk spread across her features, and checking behind her to see if anyone was watching, the woman walked hurriedly towards his car. Her heavy leather boots clunked most of the way, then splashed in imagined dismay as she made her way through the rainbow colored liquid that lolled across the pavement next to the vehicle.
Like most arrogant fools his age, the boy had left his keys in the ignition. That made things much simpler. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she revved the engine and pulled away from the station, flicking the live butt of her cigarette out the car window as she went. It landed in the puddle on the ground, igniting a blaze that quickly swallowed the pumps. Two figures ran after her, screaming. One was short and round, the other tall, his pants still soaked. In this light, it really did look like he’d pissed himself. Maybe he had when he realized the girl out front had just taken off with his baby.
Picking up a pair of sunglasses from the dash, she slipped them over her face and pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. The wheels squealed in protest, burning rubber on the road, and the old Cadillac took off down the highway at break-neck speed. In her rear-view mirror she caught a glimpse of a roaring inferno as it stretched upwards to the sky, an orange mushroom of heat and light. The pumps had blown.
*****
It was roughly two a.m. The woman still cruised down the highway in her stolen car, watching the road-signs as they sped past in a blur or reflective yellow and black. The radio was blaring loudly, and some unknown performer screamed through the pitiful speakers at her side. Every time she hit a bump they cut out entirely, and it was sometimes a full five minutes before they came back again. She winced inwardly and wondered why the boy hadn’t put in proper sound equipment. A quick glance over the back seat told her he had intended too, but wouldn’t ever get around to it.
Tools, wiring, and multiple polished parts glittered up at her from the plush seats behind the passenger side. If she was any kind of mechanic, she’d pull over where she was and do something about the crappy heap she’d saddled herself with. Luckily, it was only a temporary ride. She’d pick up something nicer when she got home.
As the hours passed, she noted the line at the horizon that now differentiated sky from land. It would be sun-up soon, and she didn’t want to be caught in the light. Steering with one hand, she leaned over and dug around behind her seat. After a few moments she pulled her hand back, clutching a can of blue spray-paint. It was half empty, but would have to go the distance.
A bridge loomed up ahead of her, and pulling sharply right on the wheel, she veered off the road and into the ditch that led under it. A slight flurry of dust kicked up in her wake. She got out, slammed the door behind her, and violently shook the can, contemplating where she should start. Pressing down on the spray head, she bathed the front windshield in garish, sky-colored paint. Working in a counter-clockwise direction, she managed to cover all six windows, having to use a cloth to make it stretch over the very last. Small amounts of light would get through that, but if she leaned herself against the back window on the passenger side, it wouldn’t reach her. After blacking out the glass, she popped the trunk and busied herself transferring the litter out of the back seat; there was no way she’d lie down next to grease and auto-parts.
It had been over a month since the woman had left her previous home, and her current actions had become somewhat of a routine. She'd gone on a bit of a tour of the US, and was currently wanted in thirteen states for property destruction, theft under one thousand dollars, assaulting an officer, grand theft auto, breaking and entering, and attempted murder. Of course, when she’d actually killed, they didn’t find the bodies. Or what was left of them, anyways.
When she finally finished cleaning things out the sun was just peeking over the horizon, bathing the world in ethereal orange light. Slipping back into the passenger seat, she slammed the door closed and tilted the chair back. Her new sunglasses still precariously perched on her nose; the girl drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Not long after, she woke with a start as the world came smashing in around her.
*****
The woman shot upright and cried out when the front windshield shattered inwards, bathing her in the searing light of the sun. Scurrying to the back of the car, she covered her head with her black leather jacket and pushed her shades up onto her nose.
A tall, pale youth stood on the hood of her car, brandishing a shovel. Her fine blonde hair fell around her body in sheets, and her face was hidden in darkness by the offensive light that framed her back.
”Michaela.” Her rich voice flowed forth coldly. Mich rolled her eyes, something that she’d been doing rather often of late. “It’s you again.” Her own voice rose, as cold as the first, and with a touch of cynicism. “Come to play another round?” The pale haired woman, or girl, really, slammed the butt of her shovel into the roof of the car, caving it in.
”I guess that’s a yes.” Booting the side door open, Mich threw herself out of the car and hurried to the shaded safety of the bridge. The swinging shovel trailed not far behind. Free of the sun’s rays, she shrugged her coat back over her shoulders, wound up, and slugged the other girl square in the jaw. Staggering backwards, she dropped the shovel to the ground.
As the once garden instrument now improvised weapon clattered to the earth, Mich slammed the ball of her foot onto the nose of it, sending the handle flying back upwards. Catching it as it launched towards her, she gripped it firmly, and let fly.
The metallic spade bit into the blond girl’s face with a sickening thud that rang through the entire valley. Collapsing to her knees, and then further to her hands, the youth trembled violently, resisting the urge to vomit. Michaela's tremendous, unnatural strength could have easily rendered the child's skull to powder, and only intense knowledge of her ability had prevented that from happening. As it was, not a bone had crumpled inwards... though there was serious potential for hairline fractures.
”Allie.” Mich muttered to herself. “Last time I ran into you I told you I’d kill you. Why didn’t you believe me?” The girl, gasping for breath, managed to choke out a few words. “I believed you.”
“Then why on earth have you followed me this far?” The woman leaned over and studied her face. She couldn’t be older than 17, and she really was too beautiful for this business.
Allie spat at Mich, a deep, burning hatred evident in the child’s eyes. “You took everything from me, Vampire. I’m going to kill you, or die trying.”
Michaela observed that the second was more likely, and then delivered a measured blow to the side of the girl’s head with her boot, plunging her into unconsciousness.
*****
Unwilling to risk a trek back to the Cadillac for rope, Mich took a knife and cut long strips from the cuffs of Allie’s pants. They were ugly, anyways, and looked like they’d be tough to tear. There was no way she’d mar her own leather jumpsuit, and she’d die before taking a blade to the coat, so this would have to do for now.
After she was satisfied she’d bound the girl up at every available place, Mich dusted herself off and walked over to a wooden support beam that held the bridge above her. Seating herself on it, she rested her chin on her hands and watched the girl as she slept.
She looked so peaceful, as nearly every being did when held by darkness, but appearances could be deceiving. The vampiress understood the tumult of emotion that raged beneath her smooth surface, herself being its cause.
Her travels through North America had been marked with much excitement, but this girl’s tale was the most colorful of them all. She’d first run into her in a small back country town in Louisiana, where a few of the locals had discovered Mich’s breeding (so to speak) was different from their own. They’d decided to try and snuff her out.
Many had died that night, and the entire town was burnt to the ground by morning. Mich seemed to have a fascination with fire - or rather, with burning.
Allie’s family had been killed. Since then she’d been dogging Mich’s heels relentlessly, following at night, plotting during the day - it was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed from sheer exhaustion. But Michaela, ever patient, and always willing to indulge in the intrigue of a new game, had given her the space to play however she desired.
Twice now, Mich had come close to death, risking all her pieces in a fools gamble. She’d been getting more reckless, of late. Proof of that was the small sliver pendant that hung around her neck. The only thing the separated the biting metal from her flesh was skin-tight leather. And she’d never smoked before, considering it a filthy habit. Now she went through nearly a pack a day. It wasn’t a big deal, physically, as vampires didn’t need to breathe, but it was the thought behind it that was unnerving.
The reason for her deteriorated state was the same reason she had fled her previous home and was now picking her way across the countryside to the old island manor. If anyone asked her what force pushed her mercilessly onward, the question would either enrage her, or be pointedly ignored. It wasn’t something she liked to think about; the way it exposed to herself and the world around her small flaws in character. Weaknesses that had slowly developed over time, without her knowledge, that now left wide gouges in her defense, capable of rendering her totally vincible to outside attack. She’d started running to avoid it, to forget, but every day, when she settled down to sleep, the events invaded her mind. They drug her back to them, screaming, if she wasn’t so exhausted that dreams were too much an effort to form. She’d gotten good at pushing herself to that point.
And then there was the constant thrill seeking. Jumping hastily from one high to another, trying in vain to fill a void that spanned out wider than any canyon. It would work, for a time, until silence crept in and strangled her with icy cold hands. Sleep was her worst enemy, along with the stillness she had once loved.
Stretching out her legs, Michaela leaned back against the post, her eyes never once leaving Allie. It would be about eight hours before darkness fell. She was stuck waiting, stranded, alone. And now, fully conscious. It was going to be one hell of a day.
*****
A brilliant explosion of light ricocheted through the world. Whistling behind it, the splintering sound of breaking glass created a powerful shockwave. China. Ceramics. Something far more valuable than that.
Cold waves of fear and nausea clutched relentlessly, grating icy flesh, clawing, begging surrender. Burning pangs of regret and aching need enveloped all, and then, clouded in what the future could only bring, sheets of suffocating blackness poured in from all sides. Stealing the hope. Stealing the life. Pressing in on her chest like leaden weights, forcing the air from her lungs.
Stealing the hope. Stealing the life.
Mich sat bolt upright, her entire body covered in a glistening sheen of icy sweat. She coughed violently, trying to force imagined water from her throat, so the air she didn't need could find it's way into her body; so that she could continue to live.
She was already dead.
"What's your problem, Vampire? Bad dream?" Allie stared over at her from her place in the dirt, her swollen, bloody face pushed into as much of an arrogant smirk as she could muster. How long had the girl been awake? Glancing around at the darkening sky, Mich turned her mind to more important matters; matters like how long she'd been sleeping. Definitely longer than she'd like. That fitful spurt of blackness offered no rest.
"Shut your face, girl, before I do it for you." Pulling a small packet from her pocket, she flipped it open and held the last cigarette to her lips. She lit it, took a single puff, and decided it tasted like crap. Making a face, she dropped it to the ground.
Forcibly grinding the smoldering stick into the dirt, Mich tossed it's empty packet over her shoulder and fiddled with her lighter. One more useless habit marked, toyed with, and consequently discarded. She'd gone through countless many of them in the last week, not bothering to take note of the days prior even to that.
"I'd say it'll be dark enough for me to wander around in about an hour." Still flicking the lid of her lighter back and forth, and consequently, it's flame on and off, the vampiress regarded Allie with amusement. "You scared?"
"Why should I be?" The girl voiced back, her expression dauntless. "I have nothing left for you to take from me."
Mich's amused grin twisted to one of malicious intent. That little wench had just challenged her. Well, they'd see if she had anything left to take, then. Obviously she didn't value what little remained anyways.
"Good, I'm glad then. We're going to have a spot of fun, you and I." Her silver eyes sparkled somewhat in the scattered, dimming light. "Quite a bit of fun."
*****
Once the sun rested safely below the horizon line, Michaela stood, slung Allie's heavily bound form over her shoulder, and started walking. She ignored completely the frantic beating her hard-bought prize inflicted on her in it's vain attempt at escape. Or maybe she wasn't trying to escape at all - simply to be as annoying as humanly possible.
Humans could be QUITE annoying.
"You having fun up there?" The vampiress asked off-hand, receiving only an infuriated grunt and several more measured blows in response. "I figured as much."
It was probably going to be a good three hours before they reached Mich's home, having taken the ferry the night before. Good thing, too. Swimming it would have been difficult with her current load; she would have had to lighten it prematurely. And that wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining.
The minutes ticked by in a dull, melodic droll, far too slowly for the liking of either of the pair, and the remnants of the day's heat as it steamed up off the black ashvault was nothing to warm Allie's bared legs and arms. Gooseflesh rose up on her skin, cold and pimply, just moments before she began to shiver.
Mich hardly ever noticed the cold, really, but to a human being, temperature was vitally important.
Allie was shivering so bad that her teeth were chattering loudly before she made any effort to complain. When she finally did, it was a simple comment, but Michaela understood fully what was meant by it.
"It's a bit chill out tonight," the girl managed to sneak past the incessant click of hardened tooth enamel.
"Did you want to stop?" Mich asked, rather surprised at herself. What did she care if Allie froze to death? She'd just spent the last month trying to kill her! Allie forced speech again, slipping as much sarcasm into her words as she could manage. "No, wouldn't want to slow you down, after all. We're so close to where we're heading..."
Mumbling a reply, Mich kept walking. About twenty minutes later, shivering convulsively, Allie spoke again. "If you still want to stop, I'll let you..."
A wry smile touching her lips, Mich dropped her load into the ditch next to her. Allie landed with a thud that no doubt stung quite a bit, as frozen as her flesh was. Being tied up, there was nothing the girl could do about it.
There was a sharp bite in the air tonight - no way Allie would make it back to the manor with all of her fingers and toes, with the way she was dressed. Likely she’d lose a considerable amount of skin to frost-bite. "Damned October nights..."
Heaving a sigh, Mich pulled a dagger from her belt and leaned down to cut the girl's bonds. Sensing an opportunity, Allie lunged forward and sank her teeth into the Vampiress' hand.
When Mich recoiled in shock, the girl bolted. She traveled only about a meter before coming to an abrupt and painful stop.
Weaving her fingers into the fine hair at the base of the girl's skull as she passed by, Mich yanked back sharply, eliciting a small gasp from the fragile girl before tossing her roughly back into the dirt.
When Mich's hand pulled free of the tangled mass of blonde hair, it brought with it a fair amount of golden down. It was quite pretty actually... Allie struggled to her feet again, ever the fighter, but she made even less progress this attempt, brought to a shuddering halt by a firm blow to the gut.
She doubled over and wretched the contents of her stomach all over the side of the road.
"Let's not try that again," Mich whispered into the girl's ear as she heaved. "I won't be so kind next time."
When Allie had finished there was an absent look of defeat on her features. She would offer no more of a fight tonight; it was too cold, she was too tired, too sore, and by far too hungry.
Slipping her own heavy leather jacket from her shoulders, Mich wrapped it around Allie's form, nearly as cold as the vampiress herself. She carefully zipped it up and clasped together all the buttons, tightened the fasten at the back, and tucked Allie's hands into the sleeves so they'd stay warm before tying her up again. "See? I'm really not that bad of a person, Allie. Not once you get to know me." She hefted the girl's frail frame back over her shoulder again, and started walking.
"Don't you worry, we'll have enough time to get properly acquainted."
