A/N
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story. It's a personal one and I'm very anxious when I'm posting this. You've all been amazing to me!
Many thanks to my awesome beta – Fr333bird and thanks to Im_not_a_lizard for the encouragement.
The picspiration for this chapter: tiny(dot)pl/h1ksx
I do not own anything Twilight.
2. A victim
Jasper doesn't feel like going far from his place, so he slides inside the nearest club with live rock music. He doesn't even have to scan the crowd because he sees and feels him right away. He can always feel people who are suicidal or self-destructive and wonders whether this is an emotional pattern he's searching for to justify his killings, or if there's just a similarity between him and his victims.
Jasper quickly approaches the copper-haired boy in torn jeans and black T-shirt who stands by the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. Everything about this boy screams to Jasper.
"You look like you want to die," Jasper says.
"What?" the boy asks, stunned, raising his shockingly green eyes to Jasper.
"Nothing," Jasper answers. "Do you want to get off?"
"What?" the boys asks again. He's clearly either dumb or totally wasted. Judging from the smell of him, Jasper bets on the latter.
"I'll make you feel better for a moment," Jasper promises, reaching for the boy's hand to lead him outside and behind the club. He pushes him against the wall and quickly sends a wave of arousal towards him. He wants to be done with it as soon as he can. To quicken the process Jasper grinds his thigh against the boy's groin, emitting even more lust on the way. He obviously overdoes it, because the boy suddenly jerks and Jasper smells the thick scent of cum in the air.
"Fuck," the boy says, panting, then leans over and throws up just next to Jasper's boots.
Jasper curses, jumping back to avoid the puke. He could end the boy right now, but he convinces himself that his unwillingness to do it is because he can't stand the stench of vomit and all the human fluids. So he just pushes the boy once more against the wall with desperation, before leaving him. The truth is that Jasper doesn't want this boy to die.
Not him, not like this, he thinks. He walks away quickly so that he won't be tempted. And he leaves the boy still doubled over with his hands on his knees. Confused and with jizz in his pants – but alive.
Jasper goes two more streets down and lingers in the alley for a moment, watching some kind of pimp or dealer doing his business. It may as well be that one. Jasper nods to himself and approaches the man soundlessly, grabbing him from behind and pulling him into the darkness of the alley. He turns the man around while taking out the knife from the man's pocket and pressing it to his throat. The man doesn't even have time to scream before Jasper slides the blade in quickly, cutting the skin and the artery while restraining the grunting man in a tight grip. The blood flows in a rushed stream and Jasper laps at it and drinks, not touching the man's skin with his teeth. It's violent, it's messy and the man keeps struggling, making the whole thing so much worse.
I'm so, so sorry, Jasper repeats in his mind like a mantra, silently asking the man for forgiveness – not for killing him because Jasper believes that this particular human is scum and deserves to be dead anyway – but for doing it this way, for inflicting unnecessary pain, for creating that whole mess. But Jasper can't risk arousing suspicion, especially so close to his hiding place. This way the authorities will just think it was just a typical murder, for money.
Jasper can feel the fear and hatred coming from the man but he welcomes it. He would gladly accept physical punches right now. He thinks he deserves it and in some way he even enjoys it, bathing in it, embracing it, because he believes he should be punished like that. But this punishment also allows him to take some weight of what he's done from his shoulders.
The man gags and stills and Jasper feels the burn in his chest like he's about to cry. He thinks that if he were still human, tears would stream down his face. On the other hand if he were still human he wouldn't be in this position right now. He throws the man's limp body on the ground and slowly sinks to his knees next to the man, patting his pockets and taking out the money he finds in his wallet. Jasper hates himself even more for doing that, but he really needs some money and it's not like he can get a job.
Jasper leaves the man in a pool of blood in the alley and walks slowly back to his place, almost dragging his feet behind him. He enters the loft and lies down on the floor. He feels so tired, even though he knows it is not possible - not for a vampire. It's like his body weight a thousand tons. He literally can't move his limbs, so he exhales and lets himself rest for a while, lying flat on the floor.
"***"
It's a cloudy day when Jasper decides to stand up and wash the dried blood off himself. There is almost nothing clean he can dress into, so he gathers some clothes and decides to go and do some laundry. He finds some shades and puts them on to hide his red eyes, stuffs the randomly chosen clothes in a backpack and exits.
Jasper pushes the clothes into the washing machine, buys the detergent and pushes the 'on' button. He sits on the bench, placing his feet on it, wraps his arms around his knees and puts his chin on them. He stares at the swirling clothes in the washing machine, musing idly about what it would be like to be a cat and get off on watching that circling shit. Then he wonders if he could get a cat, but realizes he can't – one because the animal would hate him, and two – because he'd never remember to feed it. He doesn't like cats anyway.
"Are you finished?" a woman in hideous flowered shirt asks him.
"Excuse me?" he asks, confused.
"The laundry? Can you move it to the dryer so I can use this machine?" The woman sounds nasty and impatient.
"Sorry, ma'am," Jasper says, not really knowing what he's apologizing for and wanting to tell the flowered monster to fuck off. But he moves his laundry and waits for it to dry. He watches the people passing by the window and tries to guess whether any of them will die from his hands, or the hands of others like him.
When the clothes are dry he stuffs them back into his bag, earning a disapproving glance from the witch in the flowered shirt. For a moment Jasper fights the urge to comply and take all the stuff out to fold neatly, but then he remembers that he doesn't care. He walks out of the laundry place, inhaling the breeze and the smells of the city evening.
Suddenly he's drawn by the scent of fresh blood. He can't help himself and follows the trace leading to the back of the shop where he finds a crouched figure on the stairs to the cellar. He moves to retreat as the smell of blood intensifies - he really doesn't need it right now. But then he catches a glimpse of the face in the lights of a car passing by and he recognizes the boy from the club - the one with gorgeous green eyes who threw up.
Jasper slowly approaches the boy and kneels next to him, trying hard not to breathe in the scent of blood.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yes," the boy answers, not even looking up. But he's clearly not. He must have been in a fight, as he's kind of disheveled and his knuckles are all bruised and bloody. Jasper can see that once again, the boy is totally wasted and looks like he's going to pass out any second now.
Jasper doesn't think when he leans down, places the boy's arm over his head and pulls him up, dragging him alongside. Jasper must be out of his mind because he takes the boy to his place and throws him down by the wall and then sits then on the ground opposite the boy, kicking himself internally. What the hell he was thinking when he brought this boy up here?
Hours pass, and Jasper slowly allows himself to inhale a bit of the air. He smells the unpleasant stench of urine and glances at the boy's crotch to see a dark stain there.
"Humans," Jasper murmurs aloud, surprised that he's said it as an insult. He's thought he didn't really despise humans.
The boy stirs, groaning, and opens his eyes, taking in the surroundings. His gaze stops at Jasper.
"Do you need anything?" Jasper asks.
"A cigarette?" the boy asks in a small voice and rubs his face.
"I don't have cigarettes, but I can get them for you if you want," Jasper says gently. There's something about this boy that makes him want to do this. "Anything else?"
"Advil? And some band-aids," the boy says, examining his bloody hands and wincing.
Jasper nods, takes the money he's gathered from the scum he's killed, and rushes to a nearby pharmacy. When he returns a few minutes later, he finds the boy in the same position against the wall. He throws the bag with the items to him and after a moment of consideration he takes a plastic cup that was lying somewhere on the floor, fills it with water from the shower tap and hands it to the boy.
"Thanks," the boy says, wincing again. He pops four pills onto his hand and swallows them down while Jasper watches him curiously. The boy then extracts the band aids and wraps them around his fingers where the tissue is damaged the most. Then he opens the packet of cigarettes awkwardly, with stiff fingers, and lights one with the lighter Jasper provided. The boy takes a long drag of the smoke and then leaves it to burn until the ash gets long and falls on the ground.
"I remember you…" the boy finally breaks the silence.
"Are you all right?" Jasper asks, because he can feel the waves of despair coming from the boy again.
"What's it to you?" the boy asks defensively, picking at the band aids. His cigarette has burned right down but he doesn't seem to notice it.
Jasper shrugs and they sit like that, without talking. Jasper wonders if the boy's asleep again as his eyes are closed and his breath has evened up, but after a while the boy opens his eyes.
"Can I shower here?"
Jasper nods towards the other side of the space, while the boy raises his brows in question. Jasper frowns, stands up and walks towards the window with his back to the boy. He doesn't mind that his shower is just a piece of pipe in the corner, as long as there's water in it.
He hears some rattling and mumbled curses and then the sound of water flowing and more curses as the cold stream hits the boy's skin. Jasper digs a towel and some fresh clothes out of his bag and hands them to the boy who nods in acknowledgment, clearly grateful. Jasper watches him as he dresses in Jasper's clothes. They fit pretty well – the boy's a bit shorter than Jasper but they've got a similar build.
"So, what do you want from me?" the boy asks.
"What?"
"You brought me here for a reason, didn't you?" He stares pointedly at Jasper.
"No." Jasper still can't find an explanation for why he's brought this boy here.
"So I can go now?"
Jasper is silent for a long moment. He's turning the question over in his head, and no matter what kind of scenario he comes up with, it all leads to one end. So he finally answers, "No... No, you can't go now… or ever," he adds and closes the distance between him and the boy, grabbing his wrist in his hand and squeezing so tightly that the boy's eyes widen.
"If you ever try to walk away from me, I'll find you. And then you will die. Just like you wish for."