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Filiana's Journal


Filiana's Journal

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1 entry this month
 

Forbidden Kiss - Chapter One and Two Rewrite.

02:29 Nov 04 2007
Times Read: 794


From the shadows of an alley, piercing brown eyes glared. They shifted slightly as the one behind the piercing gaze pushed aside a large pile of garbage blocking the entrance to the alley. New York had changed in the time that he had been imprisoned beneath the surface. The filthy state of the city disgusted him. The unfamiliar stenches around him of burnt rubber, exhaust, and waste had been almost overpowering on the first night. Discarded bottles, cans, and wrappers from various food items lie in the gutters, attracting ants, roaches, rats, and various other pests. Crumpled up advertisements rolled down the street, kicked by dragging feet, or blown around by strong gusts of wind. The trash that had been blocking the entrance to the alley was not very far from a large dumpster, but he didn't bother to put the trash in the dumpster. Feeding would be more important than cleaning up an alley that would only wind up a junk heap after another few days.



Stepping from the alley, Darrien looked up to the sky. What had once been an easily viewed sky was now blocked by tall buildings. Smog hid most of the stars from view, making it hard to judge the exact date, but he would figure it out eventually. The moon had been full a few nights ago, and was now waning slightly. One couldn't actually tell that without looking at a calendar these days, except on particularly clear days, but he felt it, the strong pull of the moon. At least the night wasn't as cluttered with sounds and smells. It had been a bit rough trying to get to sleep. Vehicles rolled down the streets, their drivers honking horns of various tones. Some were short and low, others seemed annoyingly high to his ears. It was especially annoying when those who were honking punched the horn, and held it for long periods of time. People played ear splittingly loud music, most of which was some person or another yelling and screaming about something not worth hollering about. He had learned quickly how to drown that out while he was trying to sleep the day off, only listening for important sounds like the clicking of doors opening, and footsteps.



Darrien's footsteps were silent, in comparison to most of the people wandering the streets. Many people had turned, giving off startled looks as he walked by them, just as quietly as before they noticed him. He was practically a ghost among the noisy inhabitants of New York City. But then, with his pale complexion, he might as well be a ghost, moving silently through the streets, practically unnoticed by the citizens. They took no real notice to him; he just seemed like another one of those Goth kids, dressing in dark colors, and wearing white makeup, except his wasn't makeup, as most thought it was. Most people had no clue what walked among them, and those who did know, seldom realized when they were talking to one of the creatures of the night.



He paused, leaning up against a nearby building. Scents of various so called Italian foods drifted from the doorway. A flow of people, mostly well dressed, went in and out of the building while he stood there, leaning against the cold, dark brick of the building behind him. He was watching for the perfect opportunity. It was dinner time, and there were a lot of people out, ready to stuff their faces and go home. Sooner or later, a female would probably come by and sit down at a table. If he was lucky, the girl would be waiting for someone. If not, there was always turning to hookers for a meal. No one would miss them, unless they had a kid. He had been feeding on them in the last few days. Various hookers were always out to try and make money, bedding whomever asked. Instead, they wound up paying Darrien, with their lives.



Darrien did not have long to wait. After a few minutes, a red headed woman sat down at one of the tables, pulling off a small cardigan sweater and dropping it onto the back of her chair. She pulled out a tiny mirror, examining every little detail of her face. She furrowed her eyebrows and pulled out a tube of bright red lipstick, rolling it onto her lips, then placing it back in her purse, along with the mirror. After a few minutes, she looked at her watch, and shook her head. From the looks of it, she wasn't going to stick around long. She mumbled something about five minutes, and tapped her fingers on the table in front of her.



He swept his eyes over the female's figure, observing her silently. She was wearing a somewhat revealing sleeveless gown. Its earthy brown color only accented the golden tones in her face. The dress hugged her figure, making it look more curved than it actually was. Tapping sounds arose from beneath the table as the woman began tapping her foot impatiently. She had chosen her clothing well, but it would mean nothing in a few minutes. If he could get her alone, he would be able to satiate his thirst, at least for the time being.



He threw his weight from the wall, taking rapid steps toward the waiting woman. As long as she was already waiting for someone, it shouldn't be too long before he could get her off alone somewhere. He approached the table, smiling lightly. "Sorry I'm late, my boss called a late meeting just before I was about to leave." A quick lie, which was all he needed.



The lady looked up, frowning "Well, you should have just told him you had a date, and to go to hell." She replied with a chuckle. Darrien grinned at the woman's humor. This one should be fun, he thought. It had been a long time since one of his victims had a sense of humor. But she would still wind up like any of his other victims, left somewhere to be found by the passerby. "Brian, I don't really feel like Italian anymore, let us find somewhere else to eat. You would think that sitting out front with the smells from inside for ten minutes would make me want to eat here, but it only made me sick."



Darrien smiled inwardly. "Well then, I make a killer dinner, if you would be willing to wait awhile to eat, I'd be willing to make something just for you." He smiled at the pun. This was working out better than he had hoped. He had thought that maybe the lady, whatever her name was, would insist on eating at the restaurant.



The woman grinned. "Why, how sweet an offer. How could I possibly refuse?" She rose from her chair, grabbing the sweater and draping it around her shoulders. "Which way to your place? Or would you rather come to mine? I'm sure you could make something of what I have there." She winked, and took a few steps in the direction from which she had originally come. He waited for a few seconds, but she continued walking. The woman turned when she realized he wasn't following her yet, and said, raising her eyebrow and staring pointedly "Are you coming, or must I drag you along?" All he could do was go with her, or just let her leave. It seemed as if she was trying to seduce him, not the other way around. But he had no problem with that. He didn't exactly like to have to fight for his meals, and if she was attempting to seduce him, she probably wouldn't put up much of a fight.



He smiled then said "Alright, I'll come with you, no need to drag me, minx." Taking a leisurely pace, he followed her, lagging behind slightly to observe her some more. She swung her hips when she walked, daring him to stare downward. The clingy dress accented her movements as well. She really had chosen well. But then, so had he. He imagined that her blood would be sweet, slipping down his throat easily. The thought made him pick up his pace slightly, just enough to catch up and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Come now, what is the hurry? Let us sit for a bit." He gestured with his free hand toward a bench in the park, and pulled her in that direction suggestively with the arm that was around her shoulders.



She sighed and took the suggestion. What she wanted could wait awhile longer. It wasn't as if she couldn't get him in bed. She already had him following her around; it probably wouldn't take too long to get him where she wanted him. She dropped her purse in front of the bench, and plopped down, not bothering to remove Darrien's arm from her shoulders before doing so. Her feet had started to ache already anyhow. High heels had a tendency of making her feet cramp up, yet she wore them anyhow. Her lower back had started to ache as well. It was actually a bit of a relief to sit down, if only for a little while.



As she sat down, Darrien's arm fell to his side. He sat down with the woman, moving his arm back around her shoulders. The only difference was, this time; he leaned in close, holding her shoulder in his hand, moving his fingers in slow, circular motions. He whispered in her ear, telling her gently, "You're tense ... relax a bit." He worked down her back, trying one handed to massage her back, placing the other hand upon her knee, while slowly moving his lips closer to the base of her neck. Closer to the rapidly beating vein in her neck. It wouldn't take much to just let go and take her now. His mouth had already started to water in anticipation. He licked his lips, inhaling her sweet scent, the scent of her blood beneath a flowery perfume.



He gently pressed his lips to her shoulder moving slowly toward the neck, moving his hand back up after massaging down her back, to gently massage the other shoulder. He felt her pulse quicken as he moved up her shoulder, kissing the base of her neck, moving slowly. He nipped at her ear, smiling at the sharp intake of breath when he did. She turned slightly, relaxing against him, welcoming his approach. She might as well have been a hooker with the way she was letting him do this. Moving back down, he tired of toying with her, tired of holding off and not satiating his hunger. As he plunged his fangs deep into the artery, she gasped, her entire body tensing. Blood seeped from the wound, flowing quickly into his mouth. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she went limp in his grip.



For several minutes Darrien relished in the sweet taste of her blood. The feel of blood running down his throat never seemed to get old, especially after being imprisoned for so long. After a while, the flow of blood began to weaken, her pulse began to slow. He fed until her heart stopped from lack of blood to pump, then pulled back, letting her fall to the bench.



He picked up her discarded purse and fumbled through it, looking for any money she might have. He mumbled to himself "The things women kept in their purses these days ... and the money is always at the bottom..." She wouldn't need it now. Darrien quickly counted the money he collected from her purse. Seventy-two dollars, that wasn't a bad start for the night.



He took one last look at his victim, taking in the night air, the scent of alcohol and urine wafting about over the earthy smell of the park. The night felt just like it had on the night of his rebirth. He remembered the way he had taken in the blood of animals that soaked through the dirt around him, draining from the butchery that had recently been built above him. He remembered how he gained enough strength from the blood to rise from his prison. He clenched his eyes and shook his head lightly to shake the unpleasant thought of having to use animal blood to escape.



He left the site of his latest feeding, tossing the purse into a nearby garbage can. He hoped that the council hadn't discovered his presence yet. It had only been three nights since his rebirth, but there was always that possibility. He planned to kill each member one by one. After so many years underground, he had come up with unique ways to kill each one. All he needed now was time. Time enough to regain his full strength and abilities, however; not too much time, a vampire might spot him and alert the council that he had awoken a bit ahead of schedule. Three hundred years ahead of schedule to be more precise. Remaining hidden would be a good choice, at least for the time being.



------------------------------------------------------





Standing hidden from view, Darrien awaited his next opportunity. He had found a small second story balcony that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. Dust covered the ground around him, barely touched by the light wind that blew through the city. Though the stone around him crumbled, the base of the balcony was relatively sturdy. It was the perfect place to jump from, should an unsuspecting victim find herself alone in the streets.





Many had passed beneath him, but none suited his thirst. Few had been alone, and those that were always seemed to be males. One had seemed promising, but he had just been a wolf in sheep's clothing, not what he was looking for. Why couldn't people just accept what they were given and quit trying to act the opposite sex? It seemed ridiculous to him that people would feel the need to have a gender change, something that wasn't around before.





From a small apartment complex nearby, he heard the sounds of fighting. Perhaps this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Listening in, he heard one male, one female voice. The window muffled most of the fight between the two, but he could hear the guy yell "LIAR!" Then the sound of a slamming door and glass breaking against the wall filled his senses. He could only hope that it was the female who had left the apartment, and not the male. Darrien sat poised to strike, ready to jump from the balcony and intercept a victim.





After what seemed like hours after the slamming door, finally, someone emerged from the apartment. Their movement was quick and distressed. Looking closer, Darrien could see that this was indeed a female. Judging by her quick pace and jagged breaths, she was the one who had just been in a fight. She looked around, as if unsure of where she was going. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed. Finally she wiped away the tears and hurried toward where Darrien lay hidden from view. As the woman passed quickly beneath him, Darrien leaped from the balcony and landed quietly behind her. Looking closely at her, he could see her ragged breaths. Crying or not, he needed blood, and she suited his needs.





He moved quickly, but efficiently. Placing one hand over her mouth to muffle any sound she may make, and restraining her with the other arm, he pulled her into a back alley where he could feed in peace. The woman struggled in his grip, but was no match for his strength. She kept screaming into his hand, but no one heard. Tears of fear flowed down her cheeks from somewhat bloodshot blue-green eyes, and her breathing was no longer jagged, but short and quick. Tilting her head to her side, her long tresses of gold fell away, exposing her neck. Not only could he hear her fear, he could now see it as well. Blood pulsed quickly through her veins. The fear only made his hunger grow. He could wait no longer, he needed to feed.





Plunging his fangs deep into her neck, he began to leech the sweet nectar of life from the pulsing vein. The woman gasped into his hand as his fangs entered her tender skin. Her struggles became weaker by the minute. Soon, he no longer needed to restrain her, but support her. After draining what blood he could, he set her softly on the ground. As he had done with the last victim, he took what money she had on her.





She didn't have a purse with her, that was probably still in the apartment. Searching through her pockets, he found lots of change, and a small wad of bills. There were nine ones, and a couple of fives. Between the change, which was mostly quarters, and the cash, she had about $22, however; change was a hassle, so he left it behind.





He hoped that he had placed this victim far enough away from the first that the council wouldn't suspect anything was amiss. Looking to the skies, he could see that it was getting late, it was time to find somewhere that the sun wouldnt penetrate. He imagined that the slums from his days would still be run-down, but probably even more so than before. Perhaps they would be a good place to rest for the day.





Taking long strides out the back of the alley to another street, he headed towards the more run-down part of town. Sometimes he wished he had a quicker way of traveling, but with the way traffic was here, it wouldn't get him anywhere much faster. If the traffic was this bad at night, he couldn't imagine what it would be during the day. All he could do was guess by the sounds of passing traffic that the city was ridiculously crowded during the day. Keeping to the shadows, he took the less populated route toward the slums. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him. One could never tell when a night watchman was really a vampire, and if someone described to the officer his features, it could get eventually back to the council. The longer it was before they figured out that he had escaped, the longer he would have to carry out his plan for their demise.





Turning the corner into an unusually dark alley, Darriens eyes and ears told him he wasn't alone. Shadows rose from the darkest corners of the alley, from behind garbage cans, discarded boxes, and various other things that cast a shadow. He could hear someone cracking their knuckles and chuckling deeply in his general direction. "Well well, lookie what we have here bro. A little rat wandering into unfamiliar territory."





Looking up, Darrien frowned in their general direction and feigned fright. "Uh... sorry boys... wrong turn, Er... I didn't mean to intrude. I-I'll just be going now..." Turning around, he took quick steps in the opposite direction. Heavy footsteps moved toward him, and he could hear a garbage can lid clatter as someone pushed up from it and joined the first guy in pursuit. He guessed that these guys wouldn't give up the chase, so he began formulating a plan of attack. It would mean killing the duo, but oh well. They were trouble-makers, it probably wouldn't matter to anyone much if they disappeared.



Feeling a heavy hand grab the collar of his shirt, he jerked forward, pulling away. This fight might hurt, but he would recover easily. At least there were only two of them. He didn't sense anyone else around, that was another good thing. As he turned around at a speed no normal human would expect, he clenched his hand into a fist and struck the brute. The guy must have been crouched over when he had been in the shadows. He had thought that his punch would land him a solid shot to the guys jaw. Instead it had landed with a loud thwack to the mans rib cage.



Despite the miscalculation, the brute doubled over, gasping for breath. The brute backed up slowly, coughing a few times before righting himself. "You're ... gonna... pay for that mister." As the words left his mouth, he lunged at Darrien, drawing a knife and lashing out aimlessly. As he lunged, his brother ran behind Darrien, drawing back his knife and plunging it into Darrien's back.



Darrien gritted his teeth as the blows hit. These guys were getting on his nerves. He would have to take them out before they made him loose his temper. Lunging at the guy that was still in front of him, he disarmed him painfully by snapping his wrist. Picking up the knife, he grabbed a handful of the guys hair and turned toward the brutes brother. He lifted the brute off the ground, putting the knife to his throat.



The guy kicked at the air, terror showing clearly on his face. He was wondering how someone that looked so weak could snap his wrist with no problem, and lift him off the ground with one hand. He was also regretting the decision to attack Darrien. "Please mister... let me go." His words were ragged, pain was coursing up his arm from his wrist.



Darrien looked up at him and grinned. "Too late, you made a mistake." Making sure the brother was watching, Darrien reached up and slit the brutes throat. The look of pain, horror at how easy it was for Darrien, and fright on the brutes brother's face made Darriens grin widen. Dropping the brute, he sauntered toward the brother with an evil smirk on his face.



"P-p-please..." tears filled his eyes as he begged. "I-I'm s-sorry!" Stepping backwards, the guy cowered against a dumpster, sobbing. "Let me go.... Please!" He saw Darrien draw closer, pulling the knife out of his back and licking it clean. Cold chills ran down his back as he pushed himself into a corner, wrapping his arms around his legs. It was too late to make a run for it, and Darrien wasn't stopping. Sobbing now, he looked up into Darriens eyes as he stopped in front of him, and saw nothing. No real emotion, not even pain. Praying for salvation, something that he had never done before, he awaited his fate. He knew that this guy wasn't going to stop, but he couldn't do anything about it. Feeling the semi-warm blade against his throat, he swallowed hard. Why didn't he just end it now? Why did the blade not slice his throat as it had his brothers?



Slowly, the blade dug into the guys throat, drawing blood. Darrien didn't care who heard, he would be out of here before anyone could get to him. Digging the blade in, he cut across the man's throat, but only the outermost layer of skin. The guy reached up and clawed at Darrien's wrist, screaming in pain. Severing one artery, then the other, Darrien licked his lips. Blood was flowing rapidly out of the guy now, and the sight of it gave him a warm chill. Letting him bleed, Darrien relished the feel of blood flowing across his fingers as the man died. They had definitely made a mistake in attacking him. Now they knew.



After a bit, Darrien regained some sense. He hadn't realized he'd gone into a rage. Looking down at his attacker, then at the blade in his own hand, he sighed. He had to get out of here, and quickly. He jerked the knife across the mans throat and put him out of his misery, then turned away and jogged out of the alley. He'd need to find some water to clean himself off and some new clothes. He needed to find them quickly so that he could find a place to rest for the day without being asked questions. Anyone who saw someone covered in blood would ask questions, and he didn't need that right now. He just needed to sleep. Obviously he wasn't thinking clearly. He should have just snapped their necks, it would have saved him the trouble of finding a shower and clothes.


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