No Want, No Hunger, No Shame
A/N: …Okay, lets just get one thing straight before I begin rambling on about nonsense….
Thank you everyone! I had no idea you guys would like my fic so much, and now I'm afraid I'll screw up and you'll all hate me!Oy…seriously, I love your info, and due the many questions that seem to be coming at me, I'll straighten some things all out right now…
#1 Did Vash bite Meryl?
No, I'll put it quite simply. He did not. In fact, Meryl was not bitten at all by a vampire.
#2 I thought that vampires bit with their teeth.
Er…well, Meryl wasn't bitten; I'll leave it at that. It'll a be clear in time…
Okay, so maybe there weren't that many questions, but I felt I had to clear that up.
Thank you!
dialogue – thoughts
"dialogue" – speaking
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Chapter 4:
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Meryl was up bright and early the next morning. After spending half the night awake with a cup of tea clutched tightly in her trembling hands, she would have expected to sleep in until at least nine. Such was not her luck, however, and she had tossed and turned most of the first morning hours before grudgingly getting up and hauling herself downstairs into her kitchen.
Her "K", as she now referred to it as, was no longer bleeding. It continued to ache dully and itch every once in a while.
It didn't seem to be healing, though.
But Meryl had more pressing matters on her mind at the moment, such as when she would find enough courage to step out of her home and once again set out to find this mysterious "vampire" that seemed to be haunting her thoughts 24/7.
So, now we could find our vampire hunter perched stiffly on one of her living room chairs with a steaming cup of tea held tightly in both hands. Her face was gaunt, rather haunted. Dark circles framed her dull smoky-grey eyes, which were half hidden under drooping eyelids heavy with needed—but not acquired—sleep. Her dark raven, short hair was unusually messy and sticking up at odd angles. And lastly, she wore a loose, light blue robe and black slippers, a sign that she was not about to be dressed any time soon.
Despite her outward appearance, Meryl's thoughts raced wildly as she stared down at the drink in her hands.
She was scared. No…she was very scared.
No, no, she wasn't just very scared; she was terrified! On her wits end!
She had spent her night imagining noises and seeing shapes lurking in the darkest shadows of her room.
But they weren't of the vampire she seemed to be so curious about. No, she was not seeing her mysterious half-vampire that bled freely like a mortal.
She had been seeing cold, ice blue eyes glaring out at her from the shadows. Her imaginary stalker stared out from the darkness, occasionally moving, disappearing. He never approached her, though. He just waited.
Of course, Meryl was fully aware her overactive imagination was getting much too carried away, and the result left her feeling as though she was insane.
She took a careful sip of the hot liquid and let it warm her cold stomach.
I have to stop thinking like this, She mentally berated herself in disgust before taking another gulp.
The tea seemed to comfort her.
I'm not supposed to be afraid of the shadows like some child huddled in her covers, scared of what might be under her bed. Meryl pursed her lips thoughtfully and tried to ease her straight posture, If Nick sees you like this, you'll hear no end of it! Milly would probably even laugh at you!
Meryl relaxed her shoulders and sighed slightly. Taking another sip of her tea, she felt glad of the warmth that it spread throughout her.
A smile curved her features, and she bit back a yawn, You're a pathetically self-centred despair junkie, Meryl.
She laughed at her own words and took the last of her tea down in a large gulp, You're feeble, Stryfe. What kind of vampire hunter sits in their house huddled in a chair like a baby? What kind of hunter are you if you're afraid of a few vampires? Just because they're dangerous doesn't mean they're scary!
Agreeing with her words, the petite vampire hunter nodded grudgingly to herself and stood up determinedly with an empty teacup clutched tightly in her hand.
That's right, Stryfe, rise, go forth and conquer. She raised a fist and set her teeth resolutely. And with that, she strode off to her kitchen with her mask of determination set firmly in place.
She paused in mid-step, But get dressed first; nobody wants to see you in a bathrobe. And the vampires can wait for a few minutes. I'm sure they won't be happy to see you anyhow!
Meryl strolled leisurely down thedank street hidden in darkness and covered from the day. The tall buildings around her bent crookedly over as if leering at her in anger. She supposed if anyone else were in her shoes, they would feel quite uncomfortable. But in her case, why should she be?
Well, there was the fact that half-vampires seemed to like dark places more than the ones lit by day. And she couldn't forget Wolfwood's warning, the one she knew to be all too true.
You never let a vampire go. It was against all rules in the book. And if you do—like in her unfortunate case—you're as good as dead.
Then you had to take into consideration that she was a hunter, a person devoted to killing the demons called vampires. She practically made her living off killing the horrible creatures. So back to where she started, she asked herself decisively, why should she be afraid?
She shouldn't.
Meryl continued down the dark alleyway-like street and let her thoughts wander again, but carefully. You never knew when a vampire would strike until you were on the ground with a pair of fangs jammed in your neck. Cringing at her own thoughts, Meryl wrinkled her nose and swept the distractions aside.
The reason she was out was very clear, indeed. She had checked the local newspaper once she had left her house that morning. In the hunter's column, (and yes, there was a column for vampire hunters) she found information on a sighting of several vampires hanging around an old lady's house. Apparently, they had been stalking her for some time until she had written up an advertisement.
Meryl had immediately come, only stopping by at the woman's house in hopes of gaining more information, perhaps on the physical appearances of the bloodsuckers.
She had had no such luck, only a stunned look (the result of Meryl being a woman was in the hunter's trade), a worried glance, and finally, a faint "bonne chance." Apparently, the woman must have moved from France.
The petite woman snorted at that particular recollection. Of course, it would be a surprise to anyone that she was in fact a woman. A woman who made a living killing vampires and didn't seem very dead.
Yet.
Meryl snorted again, but this time in annoyance. That was exactly why she hadn't called up on Milly to help her out with this particular job. Not only did she feel the need to be alone, but also she needed to vent her anger out on something and show that she could do this. By herself, and as a woman.
Besides, she wouldn't want to interrupt anything between Nick and Milly at the moment, as she was sure her friend could have been found at her "cousin's" home.
Pushing her thoughts aside immediately as a faint noise came from behind her, Meryl turned and blinked into the darkness of the street. Was it just her, or was it steadily becoming dimmer with each step that she took? Glancing skyward, she noticed that the sky had once again become cloudy and the tall, shabby buildings seemed to lean inward dangerously. At any moment, Meryl felt herself wary that they might suddenly cave forward and bury her.
She shuddered involuntarily.
Then she caught it. A single, chilling shiver trembled up her spine. That feeling seemed to be haunting her more than usual, lately. It jarred her back to reality as it traveled up into her skull.
Oh, boy, did she know that feeling.
Her hand slipped under her cloak—looking as thought she had merely pulled the covering closer to her body—and grasped one of her derringers for reassurance as another cool shiver crawled up her spine and spread along her shoulders.
There was definitely more than one of them. She could feel it. Their lifeless eyes glaring hungrily at her back.
Meryl smirked secretly to herself. Good, now all she had to do was shoot them and collect their front fangs as proof of her success before gathering her money from the local hunter's guild.
Continuing to walk down the street, she felt their eyes follow her. She could hear their almost completely silent movements and envision them creeping ever so slowly up behind her.
Meryl waited, and grasped the gun tightly in her sweaty, cold hand. They were almost upon her, very close now. They were so near she could almost smell their flesh, their alive but dead flesh and bloody scent.
Grey eyes hardened as the first one came. A slight scuffle was the only sound to betray the sudden movements, but years of trailing from her father had taught her to listen for those small, telltale giveaways.
In one swift movement she whirled around and evaded the blow from the vampire. Her eyes, still not quite adjusted fully to the dark, almost missed the four forms before her. They were covered completely in darkness.
Pulling out her derringer, she swiftly aimed and fired twice before pulling another gun from under her cloak. She stepped back and aimed in another vampire as the tortured screams of the wounded undead filled her ears.
She managed to force them out and averted her eyes from the sizzling mass of vampire on the cobblestone before her. It made her sick, but she had made a promise…
One shadowed bloodsucker hissed lightly as he inhaled a breath, "Damn, the wench has a weapon!"
Meryl's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Silver, bloodsucker." She struggled to get a good aim on the speaker, "Twice as deadly to you, twice as effective for me."
Another hiss emitted was emitted from the vampire, "Watch out, little girl. You're little guns may have gotten one of us, but it doesn't mean you have us all." She could almost see him smirk, "Three against one."
Meryl glared and swiftly pulled another cherished derringer out and aimed with her left hand, "Don't worry, I have plenty to go around." She caught sigh of a movement and reflexively pulled both triggers. Stumbling back and trying to smother the fear welling up in her stomach, she fired both derringers again.
One caught the vampire in the arm but did nothing to stop the attack, and Meryl was sent head over heels into the ground. In an instant, the vampire was on top of her.
Swinging her small gun up, she smacked the man in the jaw before clutching another gun from her cloak and promptly shooting the creature through the chest. The sickening mass of stored blood that erupted from his back was enough to make Meryl gag in horror, but instead she merely pushed the body off and pulled out another two more derringers.
Even though on her back, she aimed at the two remaining figures that were encroaching on her. Two gunshots rang out as she scooted backwards on the cold stones, and another two in a desperate attempt to protect herself. Unfazed, they advanced on her and before she could raise a fresh gun, cold, clammy hands were wrapped around her neck in a vice-like grip.
Her wide eyes met narrowed, cold, lifeless ones and she immediately began to struggle. The vampire's remaining companion stood firmly at his side, watching haughtily as the hands tightened around her neck.
Meryl's grip on her guns loosened somewhat as her lungs began to ache without air in them. She felt her face growing red; the blood seemed to boil in her skull.
The vampire let a low, inhuman growl escape his throat, "I shouldn't even give you the pleasure of dieing quickly. I think I'll strangle you instead, wench." The grip became tighter around her neck and Meryl winced in pain, "I don't even want the blood of a disgusting human like you."
Suffocating was not the most pleasant way to go, that Meryl knew. So, she managed to gather her thoughts together enough to realize that struggling while being suffocated by a homicidal vampire wouldn't be very effective or remotely intelligent. While fighting down the intense pain growing in her chest, Meryl took a firm hold on her gun and struggled to pull them off the ground.
They felt like dead weights pulling her arms down…
But that wouldn't stop her, and she pulled one out from under the vampire's knee long enough to jam it in his chest.
She didn't want to—but she saw the disturbing change in the vampire's expression before she pulled the trigger. His eyes—just for a moment—seemed to hold genuine, human, lifelike surprise before they almost instantly began to cloud over in death. Real death. His face distorted with pain and an angry gurgle escaped his throat.
Meryl shoved the body off, not waiting for the life to seep out of the vampire before taking aim and taking down her last target.
Then, crawling back onto her feet shakily, she starred down at the squirming vampire, the one who had attempted to strangle her to death. He sizzled as the silver began to take effect.
She hated this.
She wanted to puke, badly.
But her pride wouldn't let her, and she knelt reluctantly down beside the vampire. She stared down at him, and was slightly shocked when he returned her gaze. He wasn't even dead yet.
"Y-you…you're marked," he managed to get out, and a satisfied smirk crossed his lips, "You're…y-you're mark-marked b-by…h-him. N-now I-I am satisfied…and I w-will die knowing y-you're time is a-almost up."
Meryl stared down at the vampire with a mixture of complete surprise and utter confusion, "…What?"
The vampires coughed, managing a sneer, and she watched in horror as his face seemed to melt away into ash, "S-see you in h-hell, bitch…"
He seemed to evaporate, and all that was left of him were clothes, a pile of ashes and his two front fangs. She gathered them up in her hands and stood up silently. Then, while backing away and surveying the piles of clothes that littered the dank cobblestone streets, she sighed.
"If I was a person of the church, I would say the last rites." Meryl stated sombrely, felling strangely empty and very ill, "But I'm not sure if you deserve them."
And with that, she collected her discarded guns and vampire teeth.
Then she ran, and ran fast.
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It had already begun to rain before she reached her home after gathering her well-deserved money from a successful, albeit disturbing hunt. She reached her house only to see Wolfwood sitting rather miserably on her front steps, soaked and muttering the very curses people of the Church were meant to frown down upon.
"Took you long enough, shorty. Where the hell have you been??" the smoking priest stood up as he saw her approach her house.
Meryl, having absolutely no intention of retelling the confusing information she had gained from the vampires she had put to rest earlier, shook her head, "None of your business, Nick." She pulled out a key to the locked door, "Have you got the results on that blood sample?"
Nick had snatched the key from her hand and had entered Meryl's house before the petite woman could even make it up the front steps. She closed the door behind her and pulled off her wet cloak, being careful to keep her earnings concealed in her pocket.
"I should lock you out of your own house for makin' me wait in the rain like that." Wolfwood shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his boots before patting himself down in search of cigarettes.
He found some and gratefully lit one between his lips, "I sat out there for a good half an hour waiting for you're butt. You could 'ave told me you were goin' out!"
Meryl's eyes narrowed and she pushed Nick out of her front hallway and into the living room. She flopped down on her sofa and stared him down, "No, you should have told me yesterday that you were coming so early. I would have been here otherwise."
The response was a long stream of smoke puffed in her direction.
Meryl waited a few seconds for an answer to her earlier question, but when the shaggy priest seemed quite intent on draping himself on her chair and ignoring her questions, she repeated herself.
"I hope you and Milly weren't fooling around the whole time and not working on getting me some results." She smirked at him and raised an eyebrow at him, "I don't have all the time in the world, Nick, and you two had a whole day."
Wolfwood, who now looked only slightly uncomfortable, grumbled to himself for a moment before answering Meryl's question.
"Yes, Miss I-like-to-rat-at-my-friends-cause-I-like-to-see-them-squirm, I have the results from you're incredibly important blood test, so quit bitchin' 'bout it." He stuck the crooked cigarette between his lips and corrected his position on Meryl's chair until he was facing her directly.
Meryl waited expectantly, frowning slightly but deciding it was best that she not reprimand Wolfwood for his crude speech patterns. That had been the second time she had been called a "bitch" in one day. Frowning, slightly, she shook her head. She just hoped he didn't talk like that at church.
With cigarette securely in his mouth, he began to speak—without the cigarette falling from his lips, may I add—and Meryl hung on his words like a child being told the end of an exciting fairy tale, "Anyway, it took Milly a few tries, but she finally got the results." The priest shook his head, "That blood sure is strange, short stuff. It ain't vampire's blood, that's for sure, but it ain't totally human, either."
Meryl frowned, "You mean it's neither?"
Nodding, Wolfwood added, "Sounds like one of those more human than vampire types. You know, the kinds that try to refuse blood from their systems. Of course, it doesn't always work." He paused, and then seeing Meryl's questioning look, continued, "They've usually been disbanded from their kind because they hate the sight blood. They try refusing to drink it, but their want and hunger won't allow it. But I've never heard of one having only half vampire blood."
Meryl's eyebrows rose slightly, "You mean he's a half-demon?"
"Never heard them called half-demon's before, Meryl. I prefer the term, half-blood." His nose twitched, "Anyway, back to what I was sayin'"
He inhaled from his bent cigarette and paused to collect his words, "Most of them end up dyin'. Their bodies get too weak to continue giving them the half-life they need to survive. But of course, they sometimes can't control themselves and end up feeding anyway. It causes most of them insufferable shame." He looked at her thoughtfully, "Maybe that's what happened to you."
Meryl blinked slightly and stared at the seemingly dazed priest. Yes, maybe the one that attacked me was a half-demon. That would explain why he hasn't come after me yet. Her eyes narrowed, Then, all the more reason for me to find him…
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--Cayenne Pepper Powder