Categories > Books > Cirque du Freak > Laurie Darryl
The woman's blood had not been enough. I needed more, and I needed more soon. The last thing I wanted to do was lose control.
I licked the cut on the woman's forearm, and watched as it promptly healed, leaving nothing behind but unblemished skin. Then I lay her on the park bench, before turning and running back to my sewers.
They were the easiest way to hunt efficently, and as of yet no one but a few hobos had invaded them. I had yet to meet any of my kind (excluding my sire) and I did not wish to either. My sire had disappeared before I had adjusted enough to question him about this lifestyle, but I had a feeling he had not been quite sane.
When I had asked him why he had "blooded" (his words) me, he had claimed boredom asan excuse before giggling. His sing-song voice had irritated me, so I had ran and when I had returned a few hours later, he had ben nowhere in sight.
I had not exactly shed tears, but his leaving meant I had had no idea how to deal with my new-found abilites. Six years later, they weren't exactly "new" anymore, and I had some experence with them.
Running was easy - only an idiot could mess that up, but no one had shown me how to feed, and dealing with the bloodlust had been something I had not been prepared for. I had killed over a dozen in one area before I'd learned how to feed without rupturing major arteries. Now, that was also simple enough. If we drank without killing, where had all the vampire lore come from?
My thoughts stopped when I smelt a teenage boy overheard. They always tasted the best, packed with hormones and other sweet tasting chemicals. This one smelt around sixteen, the age at which many would follow a teenage (looking) girl into an alley.
As I climbed the ladder, I heard a rustle and a szzle before the smell of smoke floated into my nostrils. I allowed myself to drop back onto the floor as disappointment flooded my body.
Smoking made the arteries plug, slowing the flow of blood. They were more likely to have a heart attack while I fed. That was a lesson that had taken six 999 calls to request ambulances for me to realize. It was ironic really, they had been attacked by a vampire, but the habit of smoking had caused three of the nine I had requested ambulances for to die.
I ran past yet another hobo before I realized that something was off. My sewers smelt strange. They smelt lke me, hobos and well...crappe. Now, however I could smell something different, something -
"Hello, Laurie."
I spun, snarlng at the fat man who dared trespass on my territory.
**********************
I licked the cut on the woman's forearm, and watched as it promptly healed, leaving nothing behind but unblemished skin. Then I lay her on the park bench, before turning and running back to my sewers.
They were the easiest way to hunt efficently, and as of yet no one but a few hobos had invaded them. I had yet to meet any of my kind (excluding my sire) and I did not wish to either. My sire had disappeared before I had adjusted enough to question him about this lifestyle, but I had a feeling he had not been quite sane.
When I had asked him why he had "blooded" (his words) me, he had claimed boredom asan excuse before giggling. His sing-song voice had irritated me, so I had ran and when I had returned a few hours later, he had ben nowhere in sight.
I had not exactly shed tears, but his leaving meant I had had no idea how to deal with my new-found abilites. Six years later, they weren't exactly "new" anymore, and I had some experence with them.
Running was easy - only an idiot could mess that up, but no one had shown me how to feed, and dealing with the bloodlust had been something I had not been prepared for. I had killed over a dozen in one area before I'd learned how to feed without rupturing major arteries. Now, that was also simple enough. If we drank without killing, where had all the vampire lore come from?
My thoughts stopped when I smelt a teenage boy overheard. They always tasted the best, packed with hormones and other sweet tasting chemicals. This one smelt around sixteen, the age at which many would follow a teenage (looking) girl into an alley.
As I climbed the ladder, I heard a rustle and a szzle before the smell of smoke floated into my nostrils. I allowed myself to drop back onto the floor as disappointment flooded my body.
Smoking made the arteries plug, slowing the flow of blood. They were more likely to have a heart attack while I fed. That was a lesson that had taken six 999 calls to request ambulances for me to realize. It was ironic really, they had been attacked by a vampire, but the habit of smoking had caused three of the nine I had requested ambulances for to die.
I ran past yet another hobo before I realized that something was off. My sewers smelt strange. They smelt lke me, hobos and well...crappe. Now, however I could smell something different, something -
"Hello, Laurie."
I spun, snarlng at the fat man who dared trespass on my territory.
**********************
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