CHAPTER TWO: ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER
I was walking home that night, after going to the gym and showing off my super strength a little with the weights and whatnot, and it was dark (as dark as it can get in the city that never sleeps) and I was walking down a street that wasn't very crowded car or people wise. I was prepared with a stake in my back pocket, cross round my neck and a dagger in my sports jacket, just in case. I walked down the street fairly quickly, looking around, trying to be aware, again, just in case. Well, guess I wasn't aware enough. I passed by this alley, and I didn't even notice a stealthy guy walk right outta it and right behind me. I have a pretty good sense of hearing, so I heard the soft thud of his first footstep. I swiveled to face him as I pulled out my stake, held it at the ready, and saw him jump a little.
"Whoa, there." The guy said. He wasn't a mugger, I could tell that straight off. I've almost been mugged like seven times, but I ended up causing the mugger serious pain with my mugger routine: rock, palm, rock, knee, rock, knee, eye, eye, sucker punch. I even made one cry once. But back to the point. He was tall, taller than me, even, lean, and had these really intense brown eyes. The best way to know a person is by their eyes. They tell all. His didn't speak to me, though. I don't know why. That made them sort of...special. He had brown hair, kind of spiked up, but not in a punk-ish way at all. It's hard to describe. He was sort of pale, and wore a black leather jacket and a black shirt underneath. Maybe all the black made him seem paler, or maybe the street lamps of my city made him look washed out. He was nervous, but didn't seem surprised at me pulling out a stake, which was odd. He was looking at me kind of funny, surprised, almost, and intrigued. I knew I wasn't smiling. I knew I was wearing almost all black, with black mascara and dark eye shadow and my blue Sublime shirt. I looked at him back, never once smiling. I don't know what passed over his face. I got sick of this, it was weird, so I said,
"Do I know you?" In my crudest way possible, because I knew I didn't, and he knew he didn't, so I knew that his answer would be
"No. But I know who you are." I didn't expect the last part actually. Not straight off.
"And who am I, Dr. Freud?"
"If you're who I think you are, you're Avarielle Ransom. The slayer."
Suddenly, I had an idea of who I was. If he was who I thought he was, it would all make sense. The un-shock of me pulling out a stake, the name, the sense of familiarity.
"I'm here to help you. You're the slayer, right?" He continued.
"And you must be the watcher. To tell ya the truth, I'd have expected someone a lot older. More like that Travers dude who told me about my quote sacred duty unquote." I replied cooly.
"I'm not your watcher." He said. I was confused. If he wasn't my watcher, and I didn't know him, then who the hell was he? A thought crossed my mind, but I wasn't sure if it was real. Mr. Travers said that some vampires might know who I am, and might come after me...could he be one of those vamps? I decided to find out. I desperately wanted to sucker punch him right in the face, but if he was a human, then that'd turn out ugly.
"So who the hell are you then? How do you know me?"
"You're the slayer. I'm Angel, I was sent here to help you."
"Heard that part. Except for the- wait, your name is Angel?"
He started to get incredibly nervous after that.
"Uh, yes. It's not what you-"
"Hey, I guess I shouldn't be talking. I mean, how many girls do you know whose names are Avarielle?"
"Just you," He wasn't nervous anymore. What was he trying to hide?
"Okay, you didn't really answer my question from before. Why are you here? If you're not my watcher, then what are you doing talking to me? Cuz Travers said it's a one-person job."
"It's a long story, but I'm here to help you out. Warn you from danger..."
He was so serious, and I just couldn't help it. Maybe it was the sudden burst of energy from my newly-instated slayer strength, or the mocha I had earlier, but I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I have no idea why. It was all so much in one day, that I laughed. You don't understand, though. I NEVER HAVE LAUGHED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. No joke. I mean, I've smiled good-naturedly at my favorite funny movies like Billy Madison and junk, but I've never laughed outright. Nothing just seemed laugh worthy. Until now. I don't get why I did it. Then I looked at him, and I saw his face. I don't remember what made me do it, but I did what I had inclined to do earlier. I punched him right in the nose. It sounded like I broke it. Whoops. He was holding his face, and then all of a sudden, he looked back up, in full vamp face. I knew it. I so knew it. What should I do? Duh! Fight him! Beat him down! I kicked him in the chest, and he fell over and landed on the ground. He started to say something along the lines of "wait" but I didn't pay attention. I was about to stake him when he grabbed my arm and held it so that I couldn't get the stake through his heart.
"It's not what you think. I'm not evil." He said.
"Yeah huh, sure. You're just a vampire who's not evil, I get it," I said sarcastically.
"Actually, yes. I have a soul, let me go. I need to explain some-" I didn't give him a chance to finish. I twisted my left arm out of his grasp, and then my right, which was holding my stake. I stood, and he jumped up. I threw another punch at him, which he ducked, but then I kicked him in the balls, which he didn't expect. I mean, hello, New York City girl who's been brought up with badass self defense techniques against muggers! Ya didn't expect that? He fell back onto the ground.
"Yeah, explain what exactly? I'll give you ten seconds and then I'll stake you," I replied rather fiercely. I was getting the hang of this slayer thing.
"Okay, I'm a vampire with a soul who is not evil and hasn't hurt anybody since the day he got his soul from a bunch of gypsies and I moved to America and I was supposed to help the other slayer but then they switched to you at last minute and I'm supposed to help you out." He said all of that fast, within ten seconds, no question. I let go of him, and let him stand, but I didn't put away my stake.
"And how did you get a soul in the first place?"
He said nothing. Must've killed somebody.
"A vamp's a vamp. A slayer's a slayer. You're a vamp, I'm a slayer, I stake, sucks for you."
"Wait. I'm not going to kill anyone, or turn on you. I promise."
"I don't work well with people," I said back. It's true. I don't.
"I'm not a person, so I think that can be gotten over. What do you say?"
"I say no way." I started to leave, but he stopped me.
"No, wait-"
"All right. You say you're not evil, prove it." What the hell made me say that?
"How?" He'd obviously never done this kinda thing before.
"I don't know. Just- don't bother me, okay? I want to be alone. I want to work alone, which means I don't give a shit about you, so leave me be." I walked away, but he followed, grabbed my hand and sort of spun me back. "What?" I asked him. "Isn't not staking you enough?"
"I can't believe you refuse help! I'm not asking for anything more than to just fight a few fights with you. Please, I need this. I need to- I need to become a better person," He said all of this so honestly, so truly. I hated it.
"Like you said before, you're not a person. I hate people, I hate vampires, I hate everything and everyone. Including myself. Now leave me alone."
"I'm not giving up this easy."
"I'll kill you before I let you help me." I meant it too, I really did. I walked away then, and he didn't stop me. I think he knew that I meant it. He did call after me, though.
"You need help!" He called.
"I don't need your help! I have super strength!" I called back.
"Not just mine, but you need therapy or something. Anyone ever told you that?"
"Every day of my life someone does. It's getting old. Now fuck off!" I yelled back, now getting farther away. He just stood there, doing nothing, knowing that he'd failed. I don't know why I let his appearance fool me the first time. Ugh, can you say superficial?
I was walking home that night, after going to the gym and showing off my super strength a little with the weights and whatnot, and it was dark (as dark as it can get in the city that never sleeps) and I was walking down a street that wasn't very crowded car or people wise. I was prepared with a stake in my back pocket, cross round my neck and a dagger in my sports jacket, just in case. I walked down the street fairly quickly, looking around, trying to be aware, again, just in case. Well, guess I wasn't aware enough. I passed by this alley, and I didn't even notice a stealthy guy walk right outta it and right behind me. I have a pretty good sense of hearing, so I heard the soft thud of his first footstep. I swiveled to face him as I pulled out my stake, held it at the ready, and saw him jump a little.
"Whoa, there." The guy said. He wasn't a mugger, I could tell that straight off. I've almost been mugged like seven times, but I ended up causing the mugger serious pain with my mugger routine: rock, palm, rock, knee, rock, knee, eye, eye, sucker punch. I even made one cry once. But back to the point. He was tall, taller than me, even, lean, and had these really intense brown eyes. The best way to know a person is by their eyes. They tell all. His didn't speak to me, though. I don't know why. That made them sort of...special. He had brown hair, kind of spiked up, but not in a punk-ish way at all. It's hard to describe. He was sort of pale, and wore a black leather jacket and a black shirt underneath. Maybe all the black made him seem paler, or maybe the street lamps of my city made him look washed out. He was nervous, but didn't seem surprised at me pulling out a stake, which was odd. He was looking at me kind of funny, surprised, almost, and intrigued. I knew I wasn't smiling. I knew I was wearing almost all black, with black mascara and dark eye shadow and my blue Sublime shirt. I looked at him back, never once smiling. I don't know what passed over his face. I got sick of this, it was weird, so I said,
"Do I know you?" In my crudest way possible, because I knew I didn't, and he knew he didn't, so I knew that his answer would be
"No. But I know who you are." I didn't expect the last part actually. Not straight off.
"And who am I, Dr. Freud?"
"If you're who I think you are, you're Avarielle Ransom. The slayer."
Suddenly, I had an idea of who I was. If he was who I thought he was, it would all make sense. The un-shock of me pulling out a stake, the name, the sense of familiarity.
"I'm here to help you. You're the slayer, right?" He continued.
"And you must be the watcher. To tell ya the truth, I'd have expected someone a lot older. More like that Travers dude who told me about my quote sacred duty unquote." I replied cooly.
"I'm not your watcher." He said. I was confused. If he wasn't my watcher, and I didn't know him, then who the hell was he? A thought crossed my mind, but I wasn't sure if it was real. Mr. Travers said that some vampires might know who I am, and might come after me...could he be one of those vamps? I decided to find out. I desperately wanted to sucker punch him right in the face, but if he was a human, then that'd turn out ugly.
"So who the hell are you then? How do you know me?"
"You're the slayer. I'm Angel, I was sent here to help you."
"Heard that part. Except for the- wait, your name is Angel?"
He started to get incredibly nervous after that.
"Uh, yes. It's not what you-"
"Hey, I guess I shouldn't be talking. I mean, how many girls do you know whose names are Avarielle?"
"Just you," He wasn't nervous anymore. What was he trying to hide?
"Okay, you didn't really answer my question from before. Why are you here? If you're not my watcher, then what are you doing talking to me? Cuz Travers said it's a one-person job."
"It's a long story, but I'm here to help you out. Warn you from danger..."
He was so serious, and I just couldn't help it. Maybe it was the sudden burst of energy from my newly-instated slayer strength, or the mocha I had earlier, but I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I have no idea why. It was all so much in one day, that I laughed. You don't understand, though. I NEVER HAVE LAUGHED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. No joke. I mean, I've smiled good-naturedly at my favorite funny movies like Billy Madison and junk, but I've never laughed outright. Nothing just seemed laugh worthy. Until now. I don't get why I did it. Then I looked at him, and I saw his face. I don't remember what made me do it, but I did what I had inclined to do earlier. I punched him right in the nose. It sounded like I broke it. Whoops. He was holding his face, and then all of a sudden, he looked back up, in full vamp face. I knew it. I so knew it. What should I do? Duh! Fight him! Beat him down! I kicked him in the chest, and he fell over and landed on the ground. He started to say something along the lines of "wait" but I didn't pay attention. I was about to stake him when he grabbed my arm and held it so that I couldn't get the stake through his heart.
"It's not what you think. I'm not evil." He said.
"Yeah huh, sure. You're just a vampire who's not evil, I get it," I said sarcastically.
"Actually, yes. I have a soul, let me go. I need to explain some-" I didn't give him a chance to finish. I twisted my left arm out of his grasp, and then my right, which was holding my stake. I stood, and he jumped up. I threw another punch at him, which he ducked, but then I kicked him in the balls, which he didn't expect. I mean, hello, New York City girl who's been brought up with badass self defense techniques against muggers! Ya didn't expect that? He fell back onto the ground.
"Yeah, explain what exactly? I'll give you ten seconds and then I'll stake you," I replied rather fiercely. I was getting the hang of this slayer thing.
"Okay, I'm a vampire with a soul who is not evil and hasn't hurt anybody since the day he got his soul from a bunch of gypsies and I moved to America and I was supposed to help the other slayer but then they switched to you at last minute and I'm supposed to help you out." He said all of that fast, within ten seconds, no question. I let go of him, and let him stand, but I didn't put away my stake.
"And how did you get a soul in the first place?"
He said nothing. Must've killed somebody.
"A vamp's a vamp. A slayer's a slayer. You're a vamp, I'm a slayer, I stake, sucks for you."
"Wait. I'm not going to kill anyone, or turn on you. I promise."
"I don't work well with people," I said back. It's true. I don't.
"I'm not a person, so I think that can be gotten over. What do you say?"
"I say no way." I started to leave, but he stopped me.
"No, wait-"
"All right. You say you're not evil, prove it." What the hell made me say that?
"How?" He'd obviously never done this kinda thing before.
"I don't know. Just- don't bother me, okay? I want to be alone. I want to work alone, which means I don't give a shit about you, so leave me be." I walked away, but he followed, grabbed my hand and sort of spun me back. "What?" I asked him. "Isn't not staking you enough?"
"I can't believe you refuse help! I'm not asking for anything more than to just fight a few fights with you. Please, I need this. I need to- I need to become a better person," He said all of this so honestly, so truly. I hated it.
"Like you said before, you're not a person. I hate people, I hate vampires, I hate everything and everyone. Including myself. Now leave me alone."
"I'm not giving up this easy."
"I'll kill you before I let you help me." I meant it too, I really did. I walked away then, and he didn't stop me. I think he knew that I meant it. He did call after me, though.
"You need help!" He called.
"I don't need your help! I have super strength!" I called back.
"Not just mine, but you need therapy or something. Anyone ever told you that?"
"Every day of my life someone does. It's getting old. Now fuck off!" I yelled back, now getting farther away. He just stood there, doing nothing, knowing that he'd failed. I don't know why I let his appearance fool me the first time. Ugh, can you say superficial?