'Twined

Chapter 2

Laying in my bed is one of the many things i routinely do throughout my day. the patterns in the ceiling locked in my memory. Partly from photographic memory and partly from doing this all to often. The rest of my room is decorated in spotless white walls(I had painted my room a couple years ago), a blue sheet bed, a tiny closet with a few articles of clothing all hung neatly in rainbow spectrum, a drawered desk with a few books, a light, and an old laptop where i keep thoughts, plans, memories, and poems. As night comes I know that there might be a chance to hunt. After a few hours from dusk, I crawl from my bed and change into something slightly darker and more comfortable. It's easier to hunt animals. they could careless about what kinda of clothing is worn, the way humans judge and are baited by looks.

I hopped out of my window. There is no need to tell my parents where I'm going. If anything my dad has already began his search in the night and will be back sooner then I will. running through the empty streets, I make good time to get out of th neighborhood where I follow a once main road into town. Following the road I kick in high gear, and allow my senses to take over. A few rats scattering up the walls of businesses and homes consumes most of my hearing. Aged, decaying skin perfumes the air. Then I hear all I need to satisfy. A growl from a stray leads me to a tattered down neighborhood from an area of town that once homed the "lower class" in "yester-age" society.

Following my senses I come across a pit-bull and a rot feuding over a dying pigeon. The fight is quickly over as they are both stabbed and hung over my shoulder.

"Well hello there pretty lady"

Shocked, I drop the dogs on the ground. Crunching bones flood my train of thought for half a second as I turn around to a middle-aged man staring at both me and the prey. His long blond hair was tangled with filth to the point where it was turning brown. His face was covered in weeks worth of sweat residue and his clothing consisted of a muddy red shirt, holy dark denim jeans, and once white sneakers.

"Not everyday theres a human in this part of town. Say, are you hunting mutt?"

"Not much else to feast on here"

"doesn't seem like you would have to worry about that."He scanned from head to to."If I'm not mistaken you have come to enjoy the heated weather in the nightlife."

"I don't thrive from underground. I living just up the street I wanted to get rid of the annoyance so I can sleep well tonight."

"Oh? But the dog's have just started their brawl." He questioned with a some-what concerned look upon his face.

"Better to deal with it now then later, wouldn't you agree?"

"So say I start a ruckus, would you have to shut me up as well? I wouldn't mind giving in to a pretty gal like you" winked the man.

Scanning him was just part of my instincts. my head felt like sharp metal piercing from both sides, but I didn't flinch. I was used to this.

"No, at least not yet. I'll have to keep my eye on you though. Just don't comment to anything your gonna have to be punished for later." I then threw a bundle of money twords his feet. Shock struck the mans face. "Go to daylife and get yourself cleaned up. Don't turn greedy, that's defiantly a limited number. Goodnight Jeremy White"

Picking up the dogs, I fled the scene to return home. Just as I had so easily foreseen, dad was sitting on the couch. I pulled the dogs off my shoulder and laid them on the front porch

"You know, for being my daughter I would have hoped you had better taste in meat."

"I am your daughter, but you know as well as I, Humans aren't my main prey. I'm sorry. Was your hunt successful at least?"

"Yes. I lived up a business-man and a hooker I found flirting on the street"

"Which came first, the chick or the pig?"

"thought I'd get the guy. She seemed interested in my ability for a split second."

"Sadistic leech"I hissed. "I'm glad I'm not exactly like you when it comes to the human hunts. You took the lives of.."

"A hooker is not innocent dear. Plus, it's not like you never go out of the house crowned Queen Seductress."

I froze in my footsteps. I wanted to say so much more. Part of me wanted my father dead long ago, but the rest of me still knew he was right. Though he never accepted what he was to the human race, I was at least scanning, searching, and ridding this world of the truly cruel at heart. Maybe cruel only to my opinion. My father would try as well. For one he wasn't at good at the whole seek and destroy mission. The main reason he couldn't side with me is his low tolerance for patience. It's not his faut though that he needs the blood more frequently.

Heading up stairs I could only say "goodnight." As I heard him rustle through a book he's probably read fifty times, I made my way into the bathroom across the hall from my own room. The mirror in the hallway portrayed my figure. my waist-length dark red hair that I inherited from my mother (at least that's what I like to say) glistened in the light from the ceiling. My black eyes followed the reflection from the mirror. My skin, paler then the walls, caught the coloring from my brown tank top. This made a for a somewhat pigmented, and maybe even tanned, appearance. (Huh, I wonder what a little bronzer would do for my skin.) I reached in my pocket and then was then reminded that I had given my cash to the man.

With no worries I shrugged it off. Though about two-hundred dollars might have seemed wasteful on my behalf, I wasn't affected. My parents don't work, yet our income comes from our prey. We barely need any money unless an appliance breaks, or for a little pampering. Wallets from the victims are more then enough to allow us to fulfill our wants and needs.

After maintaining my hygiene in the bathroom, I headed into my bedroom to surf the web of "classic" web-sites to watch repeated videos of comedy. there should have been a site dedicated to the worlds most idiotic people who thought they were immortal. Then I catch up on future prey. Typing in a few new-found names heard from streets, one drug dealer came up. My fingers sinched at the thought of meth pulsing through my veins. though the "high" was truly to kill for, my decline is self harmful.

I could smell breakfast cooking. The menu, Dog steak and eggs for me, green beans and chili for mom, and skank for the dad. There was still one more thing I wanted to check up on. I typed in the name "Narson Cermelle" on a current social sites. I watched his page load and sighed when there was no new updates from the last week.

Closing the laptop, I walked to the kitchen to help with the remainder of breakfast, eat, and then head back up for a nap.

~I found him whispering in the darkness, wishing for someone to save him. He cried forgiveness, pleading for his death. I witnessed second-hand his very crimes. I knew he had wronged, but I ached in the hollow of my heart. My thirst was savoring the very thought of his skin, yet My desire of bloodshed was overtaken by his need to live. Regretting my presents, and with him already knowing what I was, I leaned over him and pressed my lips against his. His body weakened for his thoughts of what was coming next. I cupped my hands at the bottom of his warm face, and looked down from his peering eyes. I carefully pushed his fragile, relaxed body on the pavement and walked away. He was the first one I had ever let go, and the first time I had ever succumbed to my feelings.~