This has been part of her daily routine, watching the sunset. Sure, she loves the scene of it as the light descends behind the buildings. It's beautiful and entrancing and she often finds herself lost in thought when she basks in it. But watching it through the tinted windows in her third-floor, crummy apartment in the East Village could only show so much of it. And besides, its beauty is not the only reason why she watches it. It's like her alarm. It tells her that she's about to start her day. Well, to be exact, night. Still, she hates how this dictates when she should start doing the things she needs to do, how she has no free reign on her time when the sun is out. She hates being controlled and no matter how much she worked to get out of that kind of situations in the past, this is something she could never get past of. She failed in this.
Stella is beautiful, with her shoulder-length, wavy and brown hair, ivory complexion, bright green eyes and a smile that hardly ever comes by but captivating enough when it does. She is the kind of smart that goes both ways: witty enough to be capable of catty sarcasm as second nature but also well-educated, with the degrees from Brown, Oxford and Columbia hanging on her wall to prove it. She is faster and stronger than a skilled assassin, with her set of highly-defined senses. She is ageless, forever the poster child for youth. She is a vampire and despite its intents and purposes, is a pretty damn good specie if not abused. But she is nothing if up against one thing.
The sun.
A ray of sunlight scorches her skin and she could only imagine what it would be like if she's to stand in the middle of the street in broad daylight. She'd burst into flames.
Vervain could hurt her but not kill her. Wood can certainly kill her but at least she can fight off any threats with that first. But with the sun, she could never fight it off. All she can do is run for cover.
Staying indoors and just dreaming of the sun reminds her too much of her childhood, of her former home. She spent the better part of growing up being held captive by people she couldn't believe had the audacity to call themselves family. So when she finally stepped out of that place, she vowed to herself that she would not be unwillingly bound to one place for long. But here she is, trapped inside because of the undefeated enemy.
This gets her thoughts reeling and she closes her eyes as memories set in. Images pan out in her mind, still so fresh as if they happened only yesterday.
—
Stella wakes up suddenly, drawing a deep breath, as if she hasn't gotten a whiff of air in a long time. Which, of course, is exactly the case. She looks around, taking in the surroundings. Dim room with the moonlight only comes in from the small window on her right, metal bars around her, stocky air around her. She's in a cage in a room she's nowhere near familiar with. And more than that, she has this gnawing hunger inside of her, something deep and is begging to be untamed.
She sits up, pulling her knees against her chest, her fingers curling hard around her shins, nails digging in her skin. Suddenly, there's a buzzing. She shakes her head, as if it would stop the annoying sound. She snaps her head to the side and sees a fly. Her eyes focus on it instantly, the buzzing filling her ears in an unpleasant way. Trying to ignore the sound away, she faces straight ahead and closes her eyes tight. She tries to take deep breaths to calm herself but her fright in the situation she's in is overwhelming her. She feels tears trickling down her cheeks but makes no movements to wipe them off. She's too engrossed with the fact that she's crying. She hasn't done that in years. Whatever the situation she's in, however dire it is, she has always been able to hold herself together. Right now though, she's nothing but all over the place. She is not herself at all.
The door opens and it reveals a woman in her sixties. She may be old but she certainly can hold herself high. Her eyes meet Stella's, eyes that are certainly similar to hers. Her jaw is clenched hard as her piercing stare cotinues to bore over the girl. She walks into the room and stops a few yards away from the cage Stella's in.
Stella's gaze drops to the woman's neck that's easily exposed by her hair's updo. She could hear the pulse and the pumping blood. Her focus is entirely on it for a moment. She imagines the crimson liquid and could feel her mouth water. Still, she tears her attention away from it and meets the woman's stare again. "Grandma? What's happening to me? Why am I here?"
The woman doesn't answer the question but rebuts coldly, "You are no granddaughter of mine. Not anymore."
—
Stella detests the overwhelming feeling that her dark memories bring and sometimes, such as now, she could lose herself in a sea of it and finds herself drowning harrowingly. Words suddenly run inside her head, voices that she could pick out at any given moment and know exactly where she can associate it with.
"No one is allowed to leave our walls. You are all forbidden to interact with the outside world."
"You are relentless, Stella. You may be of our blood but you certainly have never acted like you belong here. You are a dishonor in this family."
"You are a monster. You are an abomination and I will not have you here—I will not have you existing in this world."
She hates the voice, the words. But however so, she could never forget them.
As Stella waits for the sun to fully disappear from the horizons, her fingers fish out the necklace from under the collar of her shirt. Her thumb brushes over the small emerald set in intricate waves of silver metal. The small jewel is glowing and so long as it does, everything is all good. As what she tells herself over and over again.
Darkness engulfs her bedroom, now that the sun is gone. This brings her back to herself, drawing her out of the gloominess of her thoughts. She finally obtains her cue to start living by her daily activities, nighttime. She tucks the emerald pendant under her blouse again, finding comfort and security in how it presses just above her stomach, right between her breasts. She grabs her coat and leaves her bedroom. When she enters the living room, shrugging on her coat, she sees her roommate, Kate, sitting at the kitchen counter, poring over a heavy duty medical book. "Hey, boards drawing near, huh?"
Kate merely grunts in reply, out of frustration.
Stella rolls her eyes. Kate is not a kind of person that could come off as mean, unlike Beth herself. She's just wired to ignore people when in the midst of studying, with her long dirty blonde hair pulled up in a careless bun and body covered in an oversize shirt and NYU sweatpants. Another of their differences is that Kate is human. In the three years that Stella has been living in New York, Kate has been the human friend, understanding of her vampiric nature, even too keen on objectifying it like the scientist in her—not that Stella minds. Kate trusts that Beth would control herself when she's around her. Not to imply it in the wrong way though but Kate was not naïve to go on board with the idea of a supernatural existing with just a few minutes to contemplate on it. She needed to understand and Stella helped her through it.
Stella is beyond thankful that her human roommate understands the circumstance without the use of compulsion, unlike before. This hardly ever comes by, true friendship, and it pains her that in a few years, she would have to leave before people start realizing that she's not getting any older.
It also helps to have a human roommate who owns the deed of the place so really, Stella is the only vampire allowed in the apartment.
"I don't get why you keep on studying all of this junk." Stella starts, nodding at the papers and books laid out in front of Kate. "When you could just—"
"Treating people with vampire blood does not make me a real doctor, S." Kate answers without even looking up.
Stella holds up her hands. "Just trying to make a point." She walks to the deny door. "Guess I won't be seeing you in the bar tonight?"
"Nope." Kate pops the 'p'. "Have fun though."
"Alright." Stella drawls on and then leaves the apartment.
She reaches the streets of Manhattan, taking a long whiff of the open air, regretting it when its infested with car smoke and the aroma of pee, vomit and sewage. Even so, Beth smiles. This is New York and she loves it. It's a city abundant of possibilities—even more so at nighttime. It is, after all, the city that never sleeps, which is why it's perfect for a nocturnal like Stella.
Seven blocks and a subway ride later, Stella is walking down the familiar street to Terry's Pub. For a while there, everything is all good, as it should be. But something is definitely not right. She restrains from walking, moving to the side so she's not in the way of people rushing through. With her heightened senses, she finds out what it is.
Blood.
Stella is not exactly hungry right now, being that she just fed this afternoon. And while she has a number of years of training to control herself behind her, even just a scent of blood is enough to draw her full attention.
She turns to the side, to a narrow and dark alley. Her eyes widen at the scene. A man has his back to her, slightly hunched over to another frame. Stella could see the girl he's hunched over barely, her eyes dropping to the stilettos-clad feet that are drooping, in danger of giving up and let her entire frame fall to the ground. She could tell that the girl is hardly conscious.
Stella may be a vampire, but she's certainly not the die-hard kind. She still has her humanity well-intact. She cannot let this stranger kill the human. Which is why she flashes to them, using all of her strength to pull at the vampire's shoulders. While the vampire is taken by surprise, he easily recovers and takes control by holding Stella face-first against the brick wall, holding her arms behind her and pressing her shoulders down.
"What the hell?!" Stella shouts, still not able to see who the vampire is. "You could've killed that girl!"
"Oh, love." The man whispers in her ear, his voice thick with accent close to British. Or maybe Australian. "You should know better than to get in the way of predator and its prey." His voice is eerily calm and collected. As if Beth's attempt to stop him is not a threat but a mere bothersome.
"Are you a fucking lion?" Stella snaps. "Because unless you plan on—"
"Okay, you know what? This is borderline childish. And here I thought I'm done of this crap."
The man lets go of her and Stella quickly turns around and speeds towards the girl, who is now sprawled on the pavement. Stella bites on her wrist her and feeds the girl with her blood through her new wound. When the girl is now conscious and can sit up, Stella tells her, "You will go straight home as fast as you can and tell people that you just got lost while going to wherever you're going." She watches as the girl's pupils dilate, a sure sign that her compulsion has done its purpose. Or maybe not quite.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, darling."
Stella turns to the man behind her. Her eyebrows raise at how cool and nonchalant he is with the way he's leaning against the wall and thumbing off traces of blood down his chin. On any other given night, Stella would have found herself attracted to him, being that he's actually quite handsome even if she could only use the moonlight to make sure of it right now. But at this moment, with the way he almost killed a person and be still so damn cocky about it is maddening Stella.
"I have compelled her to don't run away or make any sound under any circumstances." He smirks and shrugs. "I figured that compulsion from other vampires wouldn't work as well. Whoops."
Stella rolls her eyes and turns back to the girl. "You will forget what the man compelled you to follow earlier. You will also forget everything that has happened here. And, like I said before, you're going to go home and tell people that you just got lost or something." Finally, the girl dutifully stands up and leaves. Stella stands up and faces the vampire now, crossing her arms. "Are you insane? If wherever you came from allows you to feed on and kill people freely, then that sucks because it's not allowed here."
"Hmm." The man frowns. "When I was in this city the last time, I think I was a little more liberated than this." His eyes bore Stella's, a hint of amusement and mischief in them. "But then, I wouldn't let some vampire who, judging from the way I can easily overpower, has not even have at the very least, a century behind them stop me." He smirks again. "No matter how…exquisite they may be."
Stella scowls. "Look, I get that you're practically an evil spawn. Or maybe Satan himself. I would even bet, like, my own kidney that you barely have a pinch of humanity left in you but murdering people here is not only wrong but also dangerous." She says. "If there's even so much as one death because of drained blood, it will draw attention from people who made it their life mission to erase vampires off the island of Manhattan. Plus, I really love the East Village so I guess you get that I don't want this neighborhood to be under their microscope."
He furrows his eyebrows. "What is with the word 'like'?" He asks, genuinely confused.
Stella narrows her eyes at him. "Seriously? That's what you got from what I just said?"
The man waves it off carelessly. "People trying to kill me—nothing I'm not familiar with and trained for. But I will say that if I am hungry, I will not give a damn about people who tries and most likely fails to kill me. I may even kill them myself, if I get a second away from my…blood donor, if you will." He gives Stella a smile. "I'm afraid that includes you, my dear. So don't think this is over just yet."
Stella cocks an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're gonna kill me just for kicks?"
The vampire considers it. "Well, if that's what you think, then by all means. I, however, merely think that people don't cross me and lives. Especially when," he looks at his watch before looking up at her again, "you've wasted twelve minutes of my precious time with this petty and unnecessary conversation."
"A death threat." Stella sighs. "You can add that to my growing list of it." She shakes her head. "Unfortunately, you're gonna have to get in line with this one, dude."
He chuckles, but it is almost darkly, briefly at the word 'dude'. "Ah, the way people talk these days. I find it hard to decide if I will laugh at them or kill them for the ridiculousness of it all."
"Didn't you get used to the way language upgraded through the years? Or you're still living like it's the biblical times? I have a feeling you've lived through that."
"Believe me, I would have gotten used to contemporary things but I have missed out on quite the number of years to do so. Slept through it, basically."
Stella asks confusedly, "You slept for many years?"
He holds up a finger for him to stop. He says, "A question that I will not answer because I would like to avoid for it to used against me." He pushes himself off the wall and straightens his collar. "Expect me real soon. Ciao." He's about to walk away but pauses. "Hm, I might consider going to Italy after this. What do you think?"
Stella furrows her eyebrows at him.
He shakes his head. "Never mind. I'll just ask you again later." And then he walks away, finally.
Stella grumbles even if the man is long gone by now, having most likely sped away, "Psycho freakshow."
She starts going on for her night. Honestly, she should be at the very least, scared that a seemingly ancient and therefore, powerful vampire deemed her under a death sentence. This does faze her but not enough to send her mind reeling. She wouldn't call her life a total chaos but she always manages. Don't get her wrong, there is a part of her that is a little scared but her annoyance towards the man is pressing the unsettling feeling down. She always has been pissed off at threats rather than frightened of them.
She reaches Terry's, seeing that it's in full swing. The music is pumping through the speakers but it's nothing compared to the chattering of the customers happening all at once. She walks over to the bar and finds the part of the counter that can be lifted up so she can pass through.
A dark-skinned man with bushy hair and black-rimmed glasses is busy pouring beer from the tap and into a glass. Terry. He is the owner of this establishment and is a fellow vamp. Of course, he is the original Terry that the bar is named after when it firstly opened in the forties but to all mere mortals, he is just a descendant and is named after that mastermind. He greets the newcomer with a pointed comment, not even looking up, "You're late."
Stella takes her coat off and hangs it on the hook at the wall. "I got held up."
Terry slides the glass of beer towards the customer, glancing at her sideways, "By what? Should I be worried?"
Stella starts refilling a woman's vodka soda as she speaks simultaneously. "Nah, I just felt the eerie spirit of the bush on your head. Took me a few minutes to recover." She shrugs. "But you know, just a regular Tuesday for me."
Terry sends her a quick glare as he lines up shot glasses on the mahogany counter. "Watch it." He snaps. "You and I may be buddies but I'm still your boss. Considering I'm the only person in this city dumb enough to hire you."
"Please." Stella scoffs and pulls out a bottle of tequila. "You're lucky I even applied. You haven't had a willing employee since the seventies." She starts pouring the alcohol on the shot glasses.
The man who is waiting for the tequila to be filled furrows his eyebrows. "The seventies?" He eyes Terry. "I doubt he's even born then."
Terry sighs. He says to Stella, "Fix this and maybe learn to shut your piehole next time." He turns away to attend to other customers.
Stella rolls her eyes. "Aye, aye, Captain." She turns to the skeptic customer. "You will forget that I ever said anything unusual." She compels him and moves to transfer the shot glasses on a tray so he can take it with him.
And then the whole night goes on like a blur. It's so much of a routine for Stella. She has been working with Terry every time she lives in New York. The seven years she spent here in eighties and early nineties and now, the present. Terry has been a good friend to her, even helped her see her through with the newfound vampirism back then. And while Stella only works because of sheer boredom, she decided to repay Terry's goodwill towards her by working for him, helping him with his beloved bar. He has been a constant in her life since, even if she lived in other places for a time. He is her most trusted ally.
After the crowd has thinned to nothing and the bar is closed, Stella and Terry enjoys the silence of the bar.
Stella pours gin in two glasses and bends over to the small fridge tucked inside the counter. She opens it, revealing a stash of blood bags. She takes one out, shutting the door with her knee. She bites the blood bag open, licking the drop of blood on her lip and pours half of the bag in the glass and then remaining half to other. She watches how the red liquid swirls with the clearness of the alcohol. She uses a stirrer to mix the drink, fully fusing the blood and gin. She disposes the blood bag in the separate bin that is to be thrown out in the river later today. Can't risk a bag full of empty blood bags to the city garbage collector.
She hands the other glass to Terry, who is sitting on the other side of the counter, working on the night's review by the numbers. His left hand is pressing buttons on the calculator while the right is writing on the ledger in front of him. When he notices the drink set down for him, he nods at it, smiling without looking up from his work, "Thanks, girl."
"I make it a point to keep my boss happy." Stella sips her drink before adding, "Well, less pissed, anyway." She frowns at him. "Why don't you just get yourself a fresh-grad, accountancy major? This work is seriously boring. Not to mention, you're still writing them instead of using a computer. It's depressing how you delusioned yourself that technology is a wild beast that is ruining your integrity or some poetic shit like that."
"I like doing my own work and doing it the way I did ever since I started, so shut it." Terry continues working before he pauses, his eyebrows furrowing. "Hey, Stell, can I ask you a question?"
Stella sighs dramatically. "Yes, Terry, you're prettier than Madonna."
Terry scoffs and says after sipping his drink, meeting the girl's eyes, "Why do we have $1570 worth of tips?"
Stella shrugs innocently. "Don't you think you deserve it?"
"If it came from a week's worth of bar nights, maybe. But this is one night."
Stella rolls her eyes. "So I may have convinced the customers to give you a little more than the usual for the labor you showed them. Big deal."
Terry eyes her suspiciously before saying, "You can't win over my daylight ring by showering me with a shitload of hundred dollar bills. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
Stella inwardly groans but recovers and snaps back, "And your hair sucks." She mocks him. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
Terry sighs. "Stella, you have to drop the quips about my hair. Aren't you tired of it yet?"
Stella leans her elbows on the counter. "I like it better when it was long and braided, like the in nineties." She says, trying to feign seriousness but Terry could tell that she's just saying that to get a rise out of him—her favorite pastime.
"Gotta keep up with changing of appearances, Stella, if I want to stay in this place forever." Terry says as he downs her drink and closes the ledger now. He pushes the glass towards her. "Now put this away and get out of this bar. You only have roughly three hours till the sun comes up. Might as well enjoy the rest of your time out."
Knowing that he's right, Stella does what she's told, taking their now empty glasses and brings them to the back to wash.
Suddenly, the bell above the door rings, signaling that a person has come in.
Terry looks up at the man who enters the bar. "Sorry, bro, last call was an hour ago. Just come back tomorrow."
The man flashes towards him and smirks at his realization.
Terry mutters, "A vampire. What can I do for you, then?"
Stella, who is now done with the glasses, goes back to the bar area and sees the newcomer. She realizes that it's the same man who put her life in an alarm from earlier that night. She sighs and mumbles as he sees her enter the room, "Oh, crap. You gotta be kidding me."
"Hello, there." He says charmingly. "I believe I haven't introduced myself earlier. How incredibly rude of me. I'm Kol."
