Peter and Charlotte hadn't taken the news well, Jasper knew they wouldn't. He did his best to smooth things over. He would miss Peter, that much he made clear. Even though he no longer took joy in the memories, the truth was, Jasper and Peter had a lot of stuff between them. However, it was time to move on, and find his own way. He would owe Peter and Charlotte, and one day, he hoped he would be able to help them out if they needed it. He glanced up at the room window, where Peter was watching him walk away. He raised a hand once more in farewell, then turned and went on his way.
It had started raining by the time Jasper left the tavern for the second time. No one, aside from a few stray drunks were in the streets. Jasper found that he was relieved of that fact. He made his way towards the other end of the small town, and began to map things out in his head. That was one thing he did not know. He wasn't sure where he was going. He supposed he would just let his feet guide him. There would be others of his kind, he was sure of it. The immortal population surely couldn't be restricted to the deep south and midwest. He made an unconscious decision to head east. He wanted to leave his past life as far behind as he could. He needed to start making new life for himself.
Okay, Jasper. Just what exactly are you thinking? You can't really believe you're going to make it all on your own? You just can't stop feeding cold turkey. You're not strong enough. A part of him was skeptical about his decision. Jasper was irritated with that side of himself, and so he tried to turn his thoughts to other subjects. He could find a way to keep himself from feeding off the blood of humans. He was determined to do so. Something made it a strong priority. He thought back to the victims he knew the names of, and then the countless others he did not. It pained him to think about this. There. That was the place he needed to be when he got his thirstiest for the taste of blood. It would take a long time, to train himself to that, but he was willing to keep trying. The body count would be lowered for his efforts. That's all he wanted.
He finally left town about midnight. But he wasn't sure if that was entirely accurate. Vampires didn't tend to go by the same clock as humans, because they never slept. He told the time by the night sky. That's how it had been on the front lines, when he had the time to look. He knew a lot about the night sky now. More than he ever thought he'd know about anything, or that he cared to know. The night sky had been his companion before Maria, and it would be his companion now. The stars were the only witnesses to his self-loathing now. For the the first time, Jasper thought about his family. He had never had a chance to say goodbye to them properly. He only knew they knew he was "dead" because of the weekly death announcements that would be released everywhere. He was glad they couldn't see what their boy had become. A bloodthirsty, cruel monster. Well, that's how Jasper saw it, anyway. He couldn't count anymore how many he had lured to their deaths just by sure control of emotion. He shook his head. Enough! That's in the past. You have to forget about that, if you want to move to the future. He vowed then, as he settled near an alley to rest his feet, that he would continue to push forward, and he would never again use his control of people's emotions for bad intention
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" S'cuse me, sir, is this place taken?" a soft southern accent jarred Jasper from his thoughts. He looked up, his eyes alert, as he took in the sight of a young girl who didn't look too much older than Ken had.
She had pale blue eyes, and soft lightly tanned skin. She was eyeing Jasper, probably wondering what a grown man was doing, sitting in an alley. He probably looked too well dressed to pass for a homeless beggar.
"Sure ain't," Jasper replied softly. Careful, Jasper. She's just a child. You don't want that on your hands. He ignored his conscience, his inner thirst was already churning and he hated it. He scooted over slightly, and watched her sit down. "Where are your parents?" he asked, moving closer once she sat. Jasper wouldn't let her leave him now — she had become his unwilling snack.
"They's dead," she said softly. "Mama died last night, of fever ... and Papa was killed at the factory during an accident." The girl yawned and unconsciously leaned her head on Jasper's shoulder. "I'm alone now ..."
Jasper reisted the urge to take her right then and there. It ain't right, Jazz. Don't do it. His inner voice urged silently. Get away from her. "I'm sorry, lil Miss," he said politely. "What's your name?" He continued to ignore his conscience. His hunger was burning now but he had to remain patient — trust had to be gained first.
"Annabelle." She began to cough then, violently. Jasper's human instincts, which had been dormant for over one hundred years, reacted, patting her on the back. She spit up a chunk of blood into her little palm. Tears formed in her eyes. "N-no ... I can't be ... Mama made sure ..."
Jasper immediately understood what was going on. The child was close to her death. Let her die naturally. Don't make her last hours ... He tuned all the thoughts out firmly. Jasper had seen the fever before — it was much crueler with children than it was adults. She would be suffering for days more. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Come with me. You don't need to be in the cold like this." Deceiving her. You know better than this. What about all your promises? He sighed deeply, as he stood up. He was doing it again. He was building that false trust, using his gift. So much for promises. His conscience spat at him. He ignored it. Annabelle went eagerly to his side, and he carefully picked her up.
"No, Sir! You'll get it too, and it ain't so easy to be rid of," Annabelle protested, squirming a little.
"You needn't worry about me, little one. I'm strong," Jasper told the child, carrying her away from the crowd. Annabelle was light, telling Jasper she probably hadn't had a decent meal in a day or two. He was revolted by this. The idea that children were being allowed to suffer this way made him absolutely sick. And what you're about to do is so much better? Jasper snarled inwardly. He knew what he was doing was not any better, but at least she'd be out of pain and suffering. He glanced behind them, as they got to a darker part of the alleys. They hadnt' been followed. He sighed in relief, and then set Annabelle down. They were right outside of an abandoned bed and breakfast. It looked to Jasper like the place hadn't been used in many years. The building itself, however, looked nearly brand new. He supposed that someone must come by and take care of it sometimes. For now, however, it was the perfect place to bring Annabelle's suffering to an end.
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He was surprised to a see a desk clerk in the place when he walked inside. Jasper held Annabelle's hand gently, ignoring her shivering. He knew it must be because of the chill of his skin, but the child didn't ask. He figured she believed it was just her being sick. He introduced himself, and Annabelle, telling the clerk that Annabelle was his neice. He squeezed her hand gently when she opened her mouth to protest this lie. "We'll just be needing one room for tnight, good sir."
"But you ain't my uncle ..." Annabelle whispered quickly when the man turned. She looked up at Jasper, confusion flickering across her dimming blue eyes. "Why'd you tell him that?"
"Nevermind that," Jasper replied, as the clerk returned with a brass skeleton key. "Thank you, sir."
"No trouble at all. I'll have the cook bring you two something up shortly. We haven't had a decent guest here in years. I'm surprised the master wants to keep the place up and running. But I guess it was a good thing. The little one there looks like she ain't seen a good rest in days."
"She'll be fine," Jasper managed to maintain control of the situation. His hunger churned again, and he turned to the stairs.
He led Annabelle up to the marked room on the key's handle. "Here we are." He unlocked the door, and ushered the child inside. The room was cozy enough. He turned the lock on the door discretely. Annabelle was gazing out the window, staring down into the backyard of the building.
"How's the view?" Jasper asked casually. He layered his voice with careful ease. He'd have to ease her into a lulled state. Oh he could do it. He had done it to victim upon victim. Jasper, stop! This isn't what you want! She's a child! Shaking his head, trying to focus on the job at hand, he went over to the window, and put a hand on her shoulder. His grip was icy, yet gentle at the same time. "Why don't you come away from this draft window? You look awfully tired to me, little miss." He allowed his thick Southern accent ring out clearly, as he layered it with feelings of trust. He tried to send out vibes of calm and drowsiness her way. He felt her sway just a bit, and knew his cruel game was afoot again. But his bloodlust was stronger right now. And he couldn't see straight. This is wrong, but I can't stop now. If I leave her now, she'll die alone ... He took her over to the bed, and laid her down. Jasper waited until she was sure was completely out of it. "How do you feel Annabelle?"
"S-sleepy ..." Annabelle was fighting the unnatural drowsiness she was feeling. She turned her head weakly to look at Jasper. Her adult companion seemed different to her. He was studying her like he was just waiting for her to die. She felt too weak to resist him anymore. She knew now she had made a mistake, to trust a complete stranger for any reason. "W-who are you, sir?"
"No one of consequence." Jasper said now. He could see in her eyes that she knew he meant to do something to her. He tried to reinforce the feeling of trust. "Rest now. It will make you feel better." He hated himself suddenly, but it was too late for him to go back — he had to finish what he started. Her sudden fear of him gave off an irresistable aroma. He was about to take the fatal bite, when there came a knock on the door. He withheld a feral growl, and managed to grumble. "Who is it?"
"The cook, sir. I've brought soup for the child. My brother said she wasn't looking well ..." The cook had been caught off guard by Jasper's harsh tone.
"She's sleeping," Jasper all but snapped. He laid a hand on Annabelle's shoulder when the child attempted to rise. She knew she was going to be dead soon. He was sure of it. He turned her angelic, terrified face to look at him. He smiled his false kind smile. He heard the cook rush downstairs and knew it was now or never. "You've been sufferin' far too long, Annabelle. I can make all your pain and agony go away."
"I ... I don't want to die ... I want to be a school teacher, sir ..." Annabelle answered. She tried to shrug away from Jasper, but found that she was far too weak now. "Please ..."
She began to cough again. This time, the fit lasted longer. The blood that came up was more evident. Tears streamed now, as she felt Jasper move in closer to her. "I'm afraid..." She tried to pull away. Between the fear of losing her life to health, and the fear of this man whom she'd trusted so easily, Annabelle smelled incredibly strong now. She gazed up at Jasper, pleading uselessly. She could see that he had already made up his mind.
"Relax for me." He sent out another wave of calm to the girl. He didn't want her last minutes to be fearful, she didn't deserve that at all. His voice was like ice right on her neck. Jasper felt her shiver, and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. Her neck was exposed well enough, due to the oversized dress she wore. It was tempting, but he lowered his gaze to her wrist instead. He would go with whatever was the most painless for her, even as he hungry as he was. He would, however, finish her. There would be no immortal named Annabelle with his name on it, she deserved much better than to be damned. He held her struggling form down firmly until she was suddenly calm.
"Can't you please ... tell me your name, sir?" Annabelle placed a hand on Jasper's sleeve, pleading. "So I can ... thank you properly, when I see you again in Heaven."
Jasper felt even guiltier. Here he was about to kill her mercilessly, and she wanted to thank him? Maybe she secretly wished for death, but he couldn't be sure. He looked her directly in the eyes. "It's Jasper Whitlock, Annabelle — but I wouldn't go lookin' to see me in Heaven anytime soon." Then he began to feed off of her. He heard her cry out in shock, then whimper in pain, as he contined to drink from her. Jasper couldn't have stopped now, even if he had wanted to — and he didn't. He drank deeply, enjoying the taste of the girl's fresh blood washing down his throat. He didn't bother to muffle her cries and pleas for him to stop. She was the appetizer now — Jasper wasn't in his right mind at this point. He was hungry for more, and he would get it. At length, she fell completely still, and cold. She was dead, and out of pain. Jasper pulled himself away, disgusted with himself — but hungry still. He heard voices on the stairs, and knew the two other occupants of the Bed and Breakfast were coming to check on the child. He unlocked the door, and before either could do anything, their necks were broken. Two pools of blood formed at the doorway, and Jasper very casually walked over it. He would hate himself later, he was sure.
Right now, though? He just needed to get away from there. As he turned to walk away from the building, he glanced up to the room he and an innocent little girl had shared briefly. Trust me on this, Annabelle. Dying quickly is kinder than suffering anymore as you had.