Call me a mess - prologue

Call me a mess - prologue

Its painful to say, yet true, that life as we know it is all a mirror. People are naïve and don’t realize that the true dangers of the world lurk just down the street from them. It’s hidden in the woods, the city, and your neighbor’s top floor. It’s in the eyes of the guy at the end of the bar, and in the steps of the lady pushing her kid’s stroller in the park. The danger is there, yet we all remain blissfully unaware.
The noise of my feet, which at that moment happened to be cold bare and muddy, rang out against the silence of the woods. I was focused on the sound of the heart beat ahead of me. It was slow and rhythmic; like the sound of a deep techno beat (very alluring). I pulled back my hair, tucking it behind my ears just as my target came in sight. I could see the dark haired girl sitting on the bank of a shallow creek. The moon wasn't full but her skin was glowing from what was hitting her.
Silently I advanced forward, pulling out a long sheath from my waist. I watched her tense up, obviously sensing my presence. The wash cloth she was holding with both hands, was stained red (at first I didn’t even notice that it wasn’t actually red, very gross). And as her head turned I noticed the dried blood on her face, and her rich scarlet eyes. Her lips were the only things that were moved as she let out a low, deep hiss. The tight grip with which she held onto the cloth was instantly forgotten, and it dropped limply to the mud.
It was easy enough to launch myself at her. She hadn’t been expecting it, probably because, stupidly, she thought I was going to run in fear. In a demented way, a smile flitted across my face. My favorite part of hunting vampires was the kill. It made your heart race and your body to dish out adrenalin like you were high. And as this heart racing adrenalin pumping experience occurred I drove my knife straight through the shocked vampire's heart. She let out a strident scream (which really pissed me off, I mean she saw me attacking her so screaming was defiantly not necessary) as she collapsed to the ground.
As easy as that seemed the challenge had yet to begin. She pulled the knife out of her chest, it was shimmering with specks of red, which distracted her. It was quite obvious she was newly transformed. What a sad thin it is when vampires change people and then ignore their responsibility of teaching them how to go about it all. And these new vampires are more blood thirsty than any other time in their undead life. A single one could ravage a town, completely destroying any form of human life.
She lunged at my neck egar to bite in; it was a futile attack that only 2 types of vampires used: the inexperienced and the desperate. So when she attempted this I knew what to do. Simply, I side stepped at the last moment, grabbed her and flung her to the ground. Easy as pie. I reached to snatch up my knife; but as I turned she lunged once more, pinning me upside down to the ground. I smiled, up for the challenge from the feisty youngling (and I knew she was feisty because she had a light grin on). From her back pocket she pulled a switch blade. Even from my position I noticed that she stopped to study the blade. It was encrusted with blood, but thru the blood she could see her reflection. The slight grin she held developed into a larger smile and she licked the blood, forgetting that she happened to be pinning me. Subtle fangs were secreting venom like saliva. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth and curled around her fingers, slowly. It sent a shudder through her entire body. I watched the lust in her eyes, the yearning for blood.
She set her attention onto me, and her grin turned into a smirk. I figured this was my time to do something; I grabbed the girl’s wrist and flipped her over onto the hard earth. The flicker of pleasure she had in her eyes had disappeared and the only thing she showed was fear. In my left hand I grabbed the knife from where it lay and slid the blade across the girl’s throat. Only a small portion of me felt sorry for the girl as I watched her gasp for air. The red blood, so deep in color that it almost looked black, spilt over her neck, stained the bank, and washed over into the river.
I crossed her arms over her chest and pulled brush over her. No one would ever find her now. I realized as I pulled a match from it that my match book was half empty already. It didn’t seem long until I would need another. The girl light up like a dried out Christmas tree. Only for a while I watched her burn. The delicate dark haired girl was no longer a girl, just a pile of burnt ashes. The smell was horrid, like overcooked pork and I hated it terribly, so I grabbed my knife, wiped it clean and walked back into the woods. As is protocol I called in my kill, describing how and where the body is (with vague description since I wasn’t really focused on talking). I wasn’t shaken or scared, just muddy and in dire need of a good scrubbing. So instead of going onto to another kill I trekked home.
Home was simply a walk to the edge of the woods and a forty-five minute drive home to Boston’s south end. The lights made me squint since I had been in the forest most of the night. Nonetheless I speed through the back streets and narrow passages determined to get home before dawn and get in at least an hour of sleep before school.
As I pulled up to my apartment building I took notice of the cop car infront of my building and then remember the blood I was covered in.
“Crap…” I mumbled as I walked around the back of the building and climbed my way up the fire escape. From deep in the building I could hear the sounds of a fight (probably between Mr. O’ Finnegan and the cop) as I slid into my third floor apartment’s window.
Tiredness overwhelmed me as I dove onto my mattress. Fighting took a lot out of me at times. But the noise of the cop car speeding away and a baby wailing somewhere in the building lulled me to sleep in a matter of minutes.