Author's Note: WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS HOW SORRY I AM FOR THE DELAY. Lots of business happening at the moment with uni applications and interviews and gahhh. Nevertheless, I know how irritated I get when fics I read get no attention from the author for ages with not a word, so once again, apologies.

You used the precious time you had on the way home to flip through your magazine. At least you would if you could. You liked Sliced-it contained, as the name suggested, every aspect of life in the city, sliced and diced: current affairs, political debates, scientific advances, arts reviews, general articles, all of it in a nutshell. Very handy when you only had 20 minutes; apparently not tonight.

You tried to absorb yourself in the article at hand- a particularly juicy one this week-

'Vampires: they've endured more than most. Sunlight, stakes, sparkly monstrosities and a near-apocalypse later, they're not ready to roll up the capes yet. Our bloodsucking obsession lives on…technically…'

But you kept getting distracted by the feeling that something was following you. Every ten seconds it was a misplaced shadow, a footstep, a held breath. It was no good trying to read this,

"I've read this sentence at least six times."

"Tried reading the next one?"

Freezing momentarily, you gritted your teeth took a deep breath and whirled around.

Nothing.

But that voice had been so close...

A knot in your stomach grew painfully tight as nervous irritation became fear. The only defensive weapon you had was a rolled up magazine, not a comforting fact. Ahead of you was a tunnel under a bridge with pavements on either side, raised so that they needed stairs and protected from the road by a rail. You half ran up the stairs and pressed yourself into the wall, allowing yourself to be swallowed up by the gloom. Considering you'd been this easy to follow so far, it was only a fleeting hope that you were now magically inconspicuous; still, the darkness made you feel just that little less vulnerable. Stupid in hindsight, it only really served in making you more vulnerable when faced with a master of shadows. You steeled yourself as best you could.

"Wh-whoever you are, p-please leave me alone."

The chuckle you had heard earlier started again and you felt ridiculous, yet you stiffened in fear and confusion when this grew slowly into a full blown roar of laughter. Your breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation. You had no clue where this person was, so you just kept staring, wide-eyed, at a fixed point outside of the tunnel. You shut your eyes and hissed through your teeth,

"Go away!"

Silence. Not a gradually quietening howl into hushed cackles, but a complete, cutting, deadening of all sound. At first this terrified you more, but after a few minutes of barely breathing stillness, you allowed yourself to relax a little; maybe he'd gone, perhaps decided that it wasn't worth it, or that his fun had been had already.

Or maybe...

You turned and gasped to find yourself right in front of the offending party in question.

"No, really, continue. I'm petrified."

Now, you weren't a small person at a respectable 5'9", but this man towered over you nonetheless, although this wasn't helped by the close proximity between you. He stood with one arm above his head leaning against the wall, bent slightly forward so that his long, multi-coloured (but primarily blond from what you could see) hair hung down and framed his face. Said face was one of the palest you'd ever seen, literally white, making his dark brown eyes and painted lips distinctly eerie in the sparing light. His gaze, which had you transfixed, lazily meandered downwards and halted at the magazine threatening to escape your fingers.

"Ahh"

Not even realising it was now in his hands, you watched in stunned silence as he flipped over the magazine to glance at the article with one eyebrow raised.

"Every world needs them."

"What?" You had rediscovered the power of speech, it seemed, even if it was a hoarse whisper. His gaze held you once more and he leaned down to your eye level.

"Predators."

The word seemed to go on forever, as though you were hearing it for the very first time; like he had invented it.

Don't be ridiculous

You ignored the heat spreading over your cheeks and made a grab at Sliced,

"Give that back."

He was much too quick for you and held the magazine far out of your reach.

"No chance."

You made a couple of jumps for it but it was a pointless exercise which was only exacerbated by the fact that you didn't want to touch him. You folded your arms and stared hardly at him.

"You can either give me the magazine or cough up for it."

He raised an eyebrow,

"You English have the weirdest terms. Still, I like that, 'cough up for it'-sounds unpleasant. Cute accent, by the way, is it for real?"

You wanted to smile but you weren't sure if he was being sardonic.

"Look, are you handing it over or not?"

"Not until you answer a couple of questions."

"Wh-? "You were puzzled, what information could you possibly give him? "Screw this, keep it if you want." You made to push past him but his arm whipped out in front of you so fast that you jumped back in shock.

"Number 1: What have you got against me?"

You looked at his hand on the wall-that confirmed it. This was definitely the man from earlier. Ah. Oh dear. You stopped gaping like a goldfish and collected yourself; you had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Don't worry, it's nothing personal, I just don't like sleazebags in general."

"Bold statement-care to back it up?"

"I saw you spanking that girl, it was disgusting the way you treated her!"

"Aaaand did she look disgusted?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point, you can't just go grabbing women just because they…they might…"

"Hm? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Oh, oh I see!" He clapped his hands and looked skywards in a mock epiphany, "Of course, you're right, underneath that poncho and the sneakers I should have recognised, the innocent, decent little thing she was!"

You opened your mouth but nothing valid entered your brain,

"That's not…you…look you still shouldn't have done it!" He snorted in triumph and smirked down at you.

"Don't make moral assumptions on things you don't know shit about."

"Lesson learned, sir. Is there any point to-"

"Number 2!" he raised his voice over yours, "Recognise this?"

He pulled out a little glass phial like the one you'd seen him hold earlier and twirled it hypnotically in his nimble fingers. You didn't like to admit it, but no you hadn't; you sure as hell weren't going to say that, though. You cleared your throat and tried to sound confident.

"It's some sort of glow stick?"

He stopped spinning it and widened his eyes in surprise, smirk twitching.

"Wh-"he cleared his throat, "What?" He couldn't hold it together and his faced cracked into an actual smile.

"O-or something…like that."

"Pffff" he couldn't straighten up and this time he leaned his arm against the wall to support his shaking frame, while the other was wrapped around his waist. You'd never been humiliated this much in such a short space of time in your whole life. Defiance was useless against the power of your flushing face; you'd always been crap at hiding any kind of shallow emotion.

"Oh, well, fine but it looks like one!" he just laughed harder, "Well I'm glad you find this so funny, we'll just leave it there, shall we?" This time you easily shoved past him, making him nearly fall to the floor, and stormed off.

"No, wait, wait a minute." He said breathlessly, half-jogging to catch you up, "Hold up." You tensed as his fingers encircled your shoulder, "Jesus, at first I thought you were kidding! You genuinely don't know what this is?"

"No, so are you going to enlighten me or keep me in this terrifying suspense?"

"Alright" he brought out the phial again with a flourish. He really loves doing that, drama queen. "This is Zydrate, as you can see it comes in a little glass phial." He paused, as if this was the type of information that needed to sink in. Yet as you stared, wide-eyed, at the beautiful substance, you realised he was in fact looking expectant, like you were meant to say something.

"Um, it's lovely."

He cleared his throat, "Moving on."

"So…what's it for?"

"Essentially it's a painkiller, the biggest anaesthetic on the market; able to numb any form of pain, however great. Puts you out like a nightlight, though. It's also…" he smirked, "highly addictive."

You cocked your head to the side, "So what are you doing with it? You don't look ill."

"Well, since big pharma loves to screw us around, I deliver it to some of the more needy clients." He gave you a hard look as the penny dropped.

"Wait, you deal?"

"Precisely." He held the Zydrate aloft, gesturing, "And the little glass phial goes into the gun like-"

"I don't really want to know the details, thanks." He glanced at you in surprise, "You mean you gave me all that moral assumption crap and it turns out you're a drug dealer?"

"Yeah. Point?"

You didn't want to be caught with nothing to say again, so you skirted the question, "So where do you get it if "big pharma" control it all?"

"Corpses."

"Nice." You said, unflinching, "And on that cheerful note…" you glanced at your watch, "Jesus!"

"It's Graverobber actually, but you'd be forgiven for thinking that."

You ignored him, "I've really got to go, keep the mag!" you made to go past him but he caught your wrist, placing the magazine in your hand.

"You come by that stall every day?"

You couldn't think of what to say, you were far too panicked about the minimal amount of time you had. He slid his grip off your wrist and stood aside, leaving you to hesitate in his gaze for a moment before you began to sprint for your life.

AN: I officially have no excuse to not update sooner now as all my application shizzle is finito. I'm already underway with the next bit and I hope the fic manages to catch some interest! Also a huge thank you for the faves and encouragement from readers, you are the guilt trip that keeps this going :D Please rate and review, I'm always eager for constructive criticism to make it better!