Chapter 2:
First Night's Masquerade
My senses seemed to explode the moment I stepped outside. Everything was amplified to the point of insanity. I could hear the buzzing of street lights from across the street. I noticed the gentle flutter of insects' wings on the midnight breeze. I could here a hundred conversations and what seemed like music from every bar and club in Santa Monica. The sound of the vagrant's heart beat, the steady rhythmic drumming as he breathed in and out. An alarm clock somewhere in the apartment building I had just vacated. TV's and radios blaring out all manner of mass produced bullshit for an easily pleased almost zombie like audience as they filled their overgrown bodies with huge amounts of junk food and crates of piss weak lager.
I could hear the cop across the street warning a couple of drunken guys that they had better go home before they found themselves arrested. I could hear the sound of the traffic from seemingly miles away. It all added up to an extremely mixed up mess inside my troubled mind that was screaming for a bit of quiet. As if the voices weren't bad enough, now I had the heightened senses to go with them, aren't I the lucky one. It seems like a peaceful night was out of the question, indeed I would be lucky to ever experience peace and tranquillity again. Maybe I'll buy some ear plugs, it might help.
Seconds later the vagrant had noticed me and seemed intent on blocking my way out of the alley. Something gleamed in his hand. It was a blade of some kind, maybe six inches long, narrow and straight. He walked towards me, his hand held up in front of him as if he was ordering me to stop. He toyed with the blade, twisting it one way and then the other, almost dropping it as his hands shook almost uncontrollably, probably from consuming so much alcohol.
He sort of staggered with one leg dragging behind the other. I looked him up and down, and for some strange reason that only my tiny diseased mind can fathom I began giggling. At first it was just to myself, concealed behind my hand as I tried to cover my mouth. But it developed in to full blown side splitting laughter. I even did a little performance of my own, mimicking the vagrant as he scowled and wheezed his way forward, every movement a seemingly great effort for his badly malnourished body.
My hearing wasn't the only sense that jumped to life. The stench was almost overpowering. Stale piss, old whiskey and weeks if not months of stinking sweat mixed together to give the man the odour of someone who had been imprisoned in a rubbish dump for a few months. My keen sight picked out the details of his well tailored attire. Not to mention his astounding dental work, I don't think there was a white unbroken, none rotting tooth in the whole of his foul, cesspit of a mouth.
He raised the blade and mumbled something under his breath, even my keen senses weren't good enough to decipher the gibberish that came out of his mouth. I looked at him, still laughing and now doing a little jig as I danced from one foot to the other with my arms raised and waving up and down like a puppet on a string. I had no idea what I was doing and wondered who the fool really was here. He looked at me and seemed more than a little taken aback that I didn't cower before his little pig sticker. I licked my lips in anticipation as I saw the blood pumping through his veins. The gentle rise of his chest as his heart raced. I saw people across the street wander by the entrance to the alley, seemingly oblivious to the robbery that was about to take place.
Suddenly I stopped laughing. "I see you little worm, you're about to get hooked, I'll bleed you dry and then you'll be fucked. Hee, hee."
"Giv' meee your goddamn moneee." The vagrant slurred as he looked on in confusion.
Don't play with your food little one, suck the bastard dry. A voice screamed over the mess of sounds that invaded my head.
With an almost catlike grace I was across the alley, my fist slammed up underneath the vagrant's chin, a fine uppercut that knocked him backwards onto his back and sent the knife falling and skittering to my feet. I picked it up, and looked for somewhere to put it, but my clothes didn't really leave much room for anything but flesh, being as revealing as they were. He actually passed out. I rummaged through his pockets and was amazed to find two scrunched up twenty dollar notes and a handful of loose coins. I decided I would have to go back inside the apartment once I'd fed and take whatever I looted off the tramp. I really did need a jacket or coat, whatever possessed me to wear these clothes on a cold night like this I'll never know. I placed the money and the knife on the floor and pulled the man up so that his back was against the wall. The stench was almost too much to handle. I dare say if I was still human I would have been retching now, but then again if I was still human what would I be doing in an alleyway with an old drunkard would-be robber.
I almost thought about leaving and finding something a bit more desirable, but I was guessing that meals wouldn't always come to me this easily, so I had to make the best of it while I could. I brushed aside the man's filthy shirt collar and bared the skin of his throat. His neck was covered in filth, when was the last time this dirty bastard bathed. With no further prompting needed I set about feeding. Even the blood of this worthless wretch was divine. A sensation like no other filled my body from head to toe. I could feel the blood spreading to all parts of my body as it slowly flowed down my throat. I fed for what seemed like ages, but then the nagging voices of reason raised their ugly heads.
Stop now, little bloodsucker, don't want to murder on your first night. More blood, more blood, suck him Kitty Katt, suck him dry, bleed the bastard, drain every drop. Murder him, murder him, murderer, murderer, MURDERER.
I pulled back reluctantly, licking over the wound to close it. It disappeared without a trace as though it had never been there. Now how did I know how to do that, must be shear basic instinct. I searched again through his pockets and found what looked like a gold locket with two pictures inside. I thought about taking it but that would just be cruel, whoever was in the picture must have been important to this man, even if he was a worthless drunkard and vagrant. I placed it back in his pocket. The only other thing I found was a brown paper bag, inside was a three quarters full bottle of Irish whiskey.
I picked up the money and the knife and walked back inside, leaving the man to wake up by himself. I walked into the apartment and decided that I really couldn't hope to survive without at least a couple dozen outfits. I was going to go and get a cab to my own apartment and hope to god that my roommate Samantha wasn't home. Though knowing her she was out clubbing and would be until at least six in the morning, by which time I would have to be fast asleep. Lest I catch a sunrise and then it really would be goodnight Kitty Katt.
I stopped at a cash point and withdrew five hundred dollars from my account. It was the only way I would have enough for the cab fare.
The apartment was just as I left it, which was something of a relief, although I don't know why I expected it to be any different. I gathered up what bags I could find and then proceeded to go through every wardrobe in the apartment and neatly, though quickly pack every last piece of clothing that I could cram into the bags. By the time I had finished I had around ten pairs of jeans, twenty skirts of varying styles and lengths, twenty blouses of all shapes and sizes, several jackets and ten pairs of shoes, not to mention as much underwear as I could possibly carry. It seemed weird slinking about in the middle of the night hoping Sam wouldn't return, as that would require some serious explanation. I thought about writing a note, but didn't want to waste the time and risk her coming back. I would send her a letter tomorrow, when I'd had the chance to think of a suitable explanation. Although I was not sure how I was going to explain to someone I had known since we were little kids that I was moving out for awhile, I guess I would come to that one later.
I gathered up anything of use, or what might come in handy like my driver's license, bank details, phone book and anything else that I was likely to need in the coming nights. I quickly took my jewellery box out from the safe and packed it with my clothes. Then I packed as many toiletries as I could carry, spurred on by the sight of the vagrant earlier. Even vampires needed to look good, hell, vampires especially needed to look good if we were to feed on something a little less vile. It took about an hour before I was finished. I called the cab back and took the bags out to the car.
Another hour later I was walking into my apartment in Santa Monica. I walked over to the bed and placed the bags down, kicking the door shut behind me. The clock said 03:13AM. It would take me some time to put everything away and then it would be lights out for the night. Hopefully that Prince Lacroix fellow wouldn't be too pissed off that I hadn't visited Mercurio yet, but a girl needs clothes, even a psychotic undead girl. By five o'clock everything was put away as neatly as I could manage in this shit hole. I was guessing my first day as a vampire would go by uneventfully. At least that's what I was hoping. Did I just sleep until it was night again or could things wake me up? Why wasn't anyone telling me this stuff, I had enough to deal with, without having to find everything out for myself. I lay down on the bed after undressing and simply waited for the sun to rise, careful that all the window shutters were in place, I didn't want to get fried in my sleep.
As the sun rose I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. I was finally free of noises and voices, at least until the next night when I would go through it all again.