Walking towards the canal, Mitchell relished in the unusually quiet Friday in Bristol, which suited him perfectly. He could keep the clawing hunger for human blood at bay, slightly, and ignore the beating pulses of the few passing joggers. It had been one week since his last kill; a young female with a quirky edge that had caught his eye. He tried to resist, so hard, but he caved, it was his nature. Mitchell cursed; his nature! He didn't choose this life, to be a bloody killer.
Ripping open the local newspaper, Mitchell began to read the headlines. The usual, politics gone mad, fireman saves cat…local man found dead: all blood drained. Now this grabbed his attention.
Engrossed in the story, Mitchell was unaware of the forthcoming collision with the young woman in front. Suddenly he found himself lying flat on his ass, paper flying in different directions. The female squeaked as the contents in the shopping bag spilled onto the pavement.
Immediately she knelt down and gathered her scattered belongings without looking up 'Oh my god, I'm so sorry…I didn't see you there…I'm sorry…are you ok? I wasn't looking; I was looking at the ducks…'
What the fuck just happened, Mitchell thought to himself? Recovering from his moment of surprise and shock, Mitchell removed the paper covering his face and pulled himself to his feet. He stared down at the girl who must have been about 22, rushing to grab all her belongings, a mass of dark shiny curls hiding her face.
Mitchell retrieved a rolling apple and said 'Don't worry darlin' I was reading the paper. I'm sure those ducks would've been more interesting'. This earned a soft chuckle from the girl who finally lifted her face to look at him, a small smile in place.
For a moment, Mitchell could hear nothing but her steady heartbeat, thumping in his eardrums. She was beautiful and sad in the same instance. Had this been the night or a club, Mitchell knew he would not be in control of himself. Gathering his thoughts Mitchell figured he better introduce himself 'Hey, I'm Mitchell by the way'.
'Annie and thanks for the bag,' Annie stood, accepting the grocery bag back. She was dressed in dark jeans and wrapped in a cosy blue jacket. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and maybe a tad from the rather attractive Irish man standing in front of her.
Prior to her clumsiness, Annie was immersed in her own thoughts as she watched the calm canal. She'd been walking for a good while, avoiding home. Owen was at work, but the house felt empty and lonely, well she felt lonely anyway.
Smiling nervously Annie took the opportunity to look at the stranger in front of her. In most horror films, meeting a stranger in a quiet area never ended well, but there was something about him, quite intriguing. He wore black trousers and a dark grey military style jacket with the collar picked up. Very attractive, if she did say so, dark and mysterious. His eyes seemed lonely somehow; maybe for that reason she was rooted to the spot, willing the moment to last.
Mitchell broke the silence 'You making somethin' special then?' pointing towards the food.
'Hmm…not really, I love to cook, I find it distracting', Annie peered over her shoulders. She knew she should leave. Not that it would happen, but if Owen somehow appeared from behind a tree…he might get jealous again or something.
There was something about this girl, Mitchell thought, he wanted to get to know her. Mitchell licked his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets 'Do you wanna take a walk with me?' Shit, she looked a little panicky there.
'That wasn't supposed to sound like a creepy request, I just meant…walk…we could look at the ducks or something…' Smooth Mitchell, if she thought you were a psycho before, now she'll think you're a duck loving psycho. He chuckled uncertainly and sensed Annie was fighting an inward battle.
Everything in Annie's being screamed go home now! However she was so alone. Owen more or less removed all contact from her friends and family. She needed someone to talk to, even if it was this alluring stranger with the charming smile. She nodded, decision made, 'Ok, yeah, I'm just wandering really anyway' and followed Mitchells lead in the direction he came from.
They walked side be side in a slow pace. It was a little chilly in the last months of winter and Annie shivered. Mitchell sneaked a glance, 'So Annie, what brought you to Bristol?' He knew her accent wasn't from around here.
'We just moved actually…my fiancé just transferred from work,' her words were edged with a slight bitterness. Mitchell felt a slight twinge in his heart at the word fiancé.
'How about you?' Annie innocently asked as the pair unconsciously walked over to a bench overlooking the still, peaceful water.
'Change of scenery really, I move a lot', Mitchell shrugged. That was pretty much true. They, the vampires had attracted a little too much attention in their last residence and Herrick had big plans in Bristol. He followed like the soldier he was, not like he really had a choice.
'You don't want to be here do you? Bristol I mean?' Annie detected a bit of sarcasm and a touch of anger in his words.
Mitchell twisted towards her and ruffled his hair back. The presence of Annie made him feel comfortable and somewhat open. The last time he vaguely felt this way was a long time ago, with Josie 'No, I honestly don't, however I don't have a choice. Trapped would be the appropriate word'. God it felt good to vent.
'Trapped…by what?' Annie tightened the loose scarf around her neck. Annie felt trapped. She loved Owen with all her heart, she knew he loved her deep down; it was just confusing sometimes, hidden in his growing anger.
Mitchell released a deep breathe 'Old friends you could say, family. I owe them my loyalty…its complicated'. He stared across the canal watching a dog walker on the other side.
'I want to leave them, have a fresh start…I have done it in the past, but I'm always drawn back in, it's not in my control'. Mitchell tapped his foot.
'It's easier said than done isn't it', Annie spotted a couple walking hand in hand. Young love. She smiled sadly and whispered 'I feel trapped too'. A small tear escaped from her eye and she angrily swiped it away. Why was she crying in front of this stranger?
Mitchell noticed the stray tears. He felt the sudden urge to catch the tears with his thumb and hesitantly he raised one hand and did so, before quickly pulling his hand away.
Annie jumped at his rapid touch and rolled her eyes, 'Sorry, you don't really need to see a random girl crying out of the blue'. She smiled properly; it felt like she hadn't for a long time.
'I must have that affect on people', He laughed. Her smile was infectious. It melted all the darkness, like a little ray of hope and he felt the urge to protect Annie from whatever had her so upset. They stared at each other for a couple of moments. Two lost souls meeting.
Annie sighed, 'I should probably get going'. She stood to her feet, 'Thanks for this Mitchell, I don't really know anyone here…'
A cold breeze rustled Annie's loose curls and she shivered involuntarily,wrapping her arms around her waist.
'Do you want to grab a coffee? I found this great place around the corner, I think the owner hates me but the coffees excellent', he wasn't ready to part company quite yet.
Annie smiled and replied, 'As long as they have tea, I'm in' and Mitchell glided her to her feet.
The café shack was small, moody, atmospheric and pretty much empty. They ordered and sat at the middle table. The owner smiled sweetly at Annie and glared at Mitchell, practically dumping down his order.
'Wow, she really doesn't like you does she?' said Annie, shrugging off her jacket, revealing a tight black jumper and a colourful beaded necklace. 'What'd you do?'
'Well, I may have accidently called her a washed out hag' Mitchell chuckled nervously, 'She heard it in the wrong context'.
The next hour was spent talking about life; well Annie talked mostly, which did not bother Mitchell whatsoever. He rather enjoyed her animated stories about family, friends, university and pets. The way she flapped her arms about and put on various dodgy accents. Her bubbly personality was definitely catching.
Recovering from an Annie induced laughing fit; Mitchell rubbed his aching jaw as they fell into a comfortable silence. Annie pulled her jumper sleeves to her elbows 'Oh my god, I've been blabbering on for ages, you must be sick of my voice'.
Annie made him feel somewhat normal, made him forget the bloodlust and faces, even for a moment.
'No I enjoy your stories! Trust me it's a breath of fresh air, I'm all doom and gloom…' Mitchell's voice trailed off as he noticed faded bruise on her left wrist, the distinct impression of a handprint.
Annie followed Mitchells focussed gaze and instinctly rolled down her jumper sleeve. Mitchell stopped her though, gently pulling her hand closer to him. Annie froze in shock, as Mitchell lightly traced his thumb over her tainted blue wrist.
She had to say something, anything. Staring at nothing on the table Annie chocked back a small sob threatening to escape from her throat 'He loves me…he just gets angry sometimes…I love him'. She felt his seductive eyes, now filled with conflicted anger and worry bore into her own, willing her to look at him.
Annie did, matching his stare with helpless eyes. Mitchell grunted a muffled 'bastard' and cupped both her hands in his grasp 'Annie, what are you doing? You deserve so much better'. He had known her for what, a couple of hours, and already he felt a protective impulse, to maintain that beaming smile on her face.
Annie sniffed, reluctantly pulling her hands from Mitchells grasp and buttoned her jacket 'I should go…'
Mitchell remained seated, he had to take a chance, and it worked before. After a moment Mitchell jumped up and grabbed her shoulders.
'I think we can help each other…I know this sounds insane but…I can't be alone anymore' Mitchell swept a tear rolling down her cheek. He took a hesitant step closer to her, smoothing a stray curl from her eyes.
'Annie meet me again…tomorrow… same time, same place…' He leaned down so their heads were at the same level 'please…' He was pleading, but he couldn't loose her. He needed to believe Annie could be his salvation.
Slowly closing her eyes Annie nodded her head. She needed him as much as Mitchell needed her 'Ok'.
Satisfied, Mitchell smiled and nodded his head 'Ok, tomorrow'.
Annie was scared and excited at the same time. If Owen found out…screw Owen, she needed someone to talk and listen to, she needed a friend. There was something alluring to Mitchell and yet it looked like he held the whole worlds stress on his shoulders.
'Thanks Mitchell, I've had a weird, interesting day…I enjoyed it' Annie kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his stubbly skin. Feeling warm and safe, she didn't want to pull away.
Swallowing hard Mitchell closed his eyes as the subtle scent of roses and tea teased his senses. Sounds echoed and his mind swayed for the bloodlust. Biting his lip, he calmed himself, regaining control. He shouldn't be doing this, he thought, Christ she had a fiancé, a horrible wanker…he could work on that. As her face lingered close to his, Mitchell tried to fight the urge to kiss her…at least I tried Mitchell thought. His nose softly nudged Annie to tilt her head up as he intended to press a light kiss on those lips.
The moment was interrupted by an annoyed cough; the lovely waitress Charlene. Annie tore away with an embarrassed smile 'Maybe tomorrow you can tell me a bit more bout the mysterious Mitchell'. With that she waved and walked out the café.
Bewildered, Mitchell placed his hands over his lips, watching Annie's back 'Maybe…' Grinning Mitchell grabbed his jacket and excited the café after calling out 'I'll be seeing you Charlene' receiving a glare that could shatter mirrors.
Pacing back and forward, cigarette in one hand, Mitchell was nervous. Annie should have been here a half hour ago. His initial excitement was turning into disappointment, fast. Maybe he was stupid to think Annie could save him, that she wanted to spend time with him. Disappointment turned into worry, maybe something happened to her, before disappointment returned. After an hour he was done. Herrick was right; the only people for him were his kind. He was naive to think otherwise. Finishing his fourth cigarette, Mitchell left the canal, leaving any flicker of salvation at that moment of time.
A crazy eighteen months flew by. Mitchell was back in Bristol for a sort-of fresh start with George who wanted what Mitchell desperately needed; some sense of humanity. They got a house, a pink house Mitchell scoffed, but George loved it and there was something homely about it. Apparently the place was haunted too.
He sensed the presence of a spirit, it didn't want them here. So he tried tease the spirit into visibility, live in some sort of peace. Mitchell heard her, muttering obscenities about their lack of cleanliness, before he saw her. Turning around to face her, Mitchell froze. How could he forget those doe eyes and bouncy curls? The only difference was Annie's clothes. He couldn't speak. His throat tightened.
'You can see me?' Annie suddenly bounced on the spot 'Oh my God, can you hear me?'
Mitchell stammered and shook his head 'Yeah, loud and clear'.
Annie clapped her hands together 'I'm Annie! Are you Mitchell then? I've been watching you two…obviously' she babbled on and on.
Mitchell leaned against the sink and let her talk, a sinking feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. She doesn't remember. Christ, she doesn't remember me.
Wait. That's all Mitchell could do now. Wait until she remembered however long that would take. Try and coax the mystery of her death. He had met ghosts like her, lost souls traumatised by an event that stole their lives. He would wait and pick up the pieces. For her, he would do anything.
With a grim smile, Mitchell allowed Annie to make him tea, a habit which would drive George up the wall.
It was fate wasn't it? That he chose this house, or the house chose him. It brought him to his salvation.