Categories > Original > Romance > In A Darkened Room
Chapter 2: The Darkened Room
0 reviewsMeet church mouse Maire, a young girl who lives in a one bedroom apartment with her cat, Justin. She's just an ordinary girl. Ordinary in every way, unless you believe she really does talk to angel...
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In A Darkened Room
By Mishi
Chapter two
The Darkened Room
Oukou-sama – Oukou [oe-koe] is the title used for prince. It could also be used for king or high ranking men of great importance. Sama [sa with an a as in ah, and a ma as in mama] is added for the emphasis on respect.
To say that Touya’s apartment was small was an understatement. The only apartment over a “mom and pop” grocery store, was an L-shaped room that had a kitchenette, bathroom, and open space that doubled as a bedroom and living room. The walls were light blue with thick black curtains over the one and only window. The tops of the curtains had been nailed to the woodwork so that the sunlight could be kept out. The floors were hardwood with a large Asian rug stretched across the floor in living room. Opposite the window, and against one wall, was the bed. The corner had made a perfect fit for the bed, which ended just a few feet before a walk in closet. On the wall between the bed and window-just right of the door-was the computer and a large bookshelf. Under the window was a small shelf with a larger one standing next to it, towards the corner. Across from the front door was the bathroom, and there was a recliner setting next to the door frame. Very simple, but it worked for Touya.
Touya stormed into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. Throwing his coat onto the bed at his left, he stalked towards the bathroom, which was huge by comparison to the rest of the place. “Salvation of my soul,” he mumbled, slamming yet another door. Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, he pulled off this boots, followed by his socks. Shooting up on his feet again, he looked in the mirror. “Damn it! That bastard destroyed my shirt,” he growled, looking down at his shirt, picking at it with his fingers. He gritted his teeth as he jerked it up and pulled it from his body. After tossing it in the tiny trash can, he looked at the blood that was left on his rib cage. The rips in the shirt had told him that there had been at least three slashes there, but they were gone now. He should have healed slower than that until he had more blood. There should have been scar tissue left, but this was completely healed. What had the woman done to him? Was that the reason for the power he had felt as he awoke before her?
He picked up a long handled mirror and placed it reflective side facing the back of his head so he could see the damage in the wall mirror. There was too much blood mixed in the hair. “Shit, he had to crack the skull to get all that!” He poked at his head. There wasn’t even a tender spot left behind. It should have taken days of feeding to heal that sort of damage; even vampires had trouble with major head injuries. But here he stood, good as new with only the blood left behind to tell the tale. He thought of her panicked face again, and put the hand mirror down. Placing both hands on the sink, he bent over it. His head hanging down, he whispered, “I must have scared the hell out of her. To look like this, and then pop up like I did…” He shook his head, “Crazy or not, I should have tried harder to take that image from her.”
Shaking away all thoughts, he removed the last of his garments and moved to the shower. It was a small stall with a green glass door-the bumpy type that you couldn’t see through. It always reminded him of the old green glass Coke bottles. He could still remember carrying the cartons of bottles home at the end of a long night of hunting. He missed getting glass bottles, which always kept the pop colder than the new plastic ones.
When the shower stall door was completely closed, he turned the water on as hot as he could get it. Scolding hot water could not hurt him, and he loved to feel the boiling water on his skin; it made him feel cleaner than water at a cooler temperature. And though his body wasn’t as cold as the truly dead, it was cooler than his more human counterparts; so by turning up the heat, he came out of the shower with warm skin that almost passed for a normal body temperature.
Placing his hands on the wall, he leaned his head under the water. The water ran red as it reached his feet. He closed his eyes and let the water run over his body for several long moments before moving. Running his hands through his hair, he made sure that every bit of it was good and wet before adding the shampoo. It was a fight to get the tangles and clumps of dried blood to come loose, but he managed to get all the blood out.
As the suds flowed down his back and over his firm buttocks, he arched his back and let himself enjoy the water. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time to make sure all the shampoo was out of it, then went for the bar of soap that lay on the small shower caddy, which was hanging from a nail on the wall in front of him. Without using a wash cloth, he lathered the soap and ran his hands over his body. He lathered his powerful arms first. Then, moving his hand in tiny circles, he ran the soap over his well defined pecs and abs. He felt tired and the water and soap were relaxing him. He wondered if he wanted to go back out, or to wait until tomorrow night to hunt again. Letting his hands wander, he thought staying in might not be a bad idea.
Then her words ran through his mind again. ‘How can I be mistaken for a demon one minute, and be told that my soul can be saved the next?’ Just like that he was tense once more. “I’ll hunt,” he muttered and turned to rinse off the soap.
Turning off the water, he stepped from the shower and quickly dried himself off. The agitation had returned and he was ready to run from it. After opening the bathroom door to let the steam out of the room, he reached for the hairdryer. He hated putting on clothes when his body was still damp, so he typically dried his hair in the nude. Drying the long hair was always a time consuming task. There was so much of it that his body would be fully air dried by time he was finished.
Deciding on a pair of reddish brown leather pants and a similar colored long sleeved cotton shirt, Touya threw on the clothes and went for his favorite black boots. After checking on his sword, he was ready to hit the road.
Once out on the streets, Touya headed for the closest dive bar that he could find. He learned quickly that if you flashed enough cash in the wrong places, your meal seemed to come right to you. It was sort of a vampire carryout strategy-hand out cash and walk home with a meal following close behind. It was perfect for the sort of mood he was in. Since a vampire couldn’t get drunk, unless drinking the blood of someone who already had alcohol in their blood stream, he could slam back the drinks without worrying; yet appear to be very vulnerable.
It took only the flash of a single hundred for the first thugs to step up to the plate. The man was tall and lanky, and looked like he was somewhere in his thirties. He had dirty long blonde hair that he had pushed back over his shoulders. A stained white tee-shirt and black leather vest covered the top of his body, while faded blue jeans and black biker boots covered the bottom half.
“Hey buddy, you want to shoot some pool? We’re one person short for partners,” the man pointed to his two pals that were leaning against a wall near the pool table.
Touya looked over his shoulder at the men. There was another blond, but this one was going grey. He had to be the brains of the group, Touya figured, because his companions were much younger than he was. He had to have at least fifteen years on them. He also had a beer gut, and seemed like he would be the physically slow type. He wore similar boots and jeans, but traded in the white tee for a black Budweiser tee. The dark haired man to his right was the muscle. There was no mistaking this man for anything else. His arms and chest were huge, and stretching his red muscle shirt tight. His jeans and snakeskin boots seemed to be in good condition, like this man took care with his appearance; even if the others didn’t bother with theirs.
“Sure,” Touya said, ordering another glass of bourbon before slamming down what was left of the one he already had.
Blondie smiled and stuck out his hand, “I’m Pat.” Touya shook it. As he followed, Pat pointed to the Budman and said, “This is Duke.” Duke smiled his friendliest smile as Touya was directed to look at the final man, “And that’s Tom.” Tom just nodded.
“I’m Touya.”
“That’s some name, Touya.” Duke said, handing him a pool cue.
“Where ya from?” Tom jumped in.
“I was born in Japan, but I’ve lived in the States for a long time.”
“Your English’s good.” Tom commented, setting up the balls for the break.
“I travel a great deal, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”
A blonde waitress in a pink tube top, four inch red heals, and a red vinyl skirt so short you could see her pink panties, sashayed over to slip Touya his fresh drink. Though he was disgusted with her lack of modesty, he gave her an encouraging grin before slipping her a twenty and telling her to keep the change. She showed her gratitude by slowly placing the bill in-between her breast before walking away.
That’s how it started. The rest of the evening went just as Touya had expected it to go. His companions questioned him about home, family, and friends-so many wasted words just to learn if he would be missed right way. Touya made it clear that he was carrying a lot of money for travel reasons, and how he had left his car at the motel and walked to the bar. He gave them the typical story about getting into town too late to find reasonable accommodations. The best he could find, supposedly, was the motel a few blocks way, just off the main highway. The “Dirt Brigade” accepted all he said, not out of any sense of realism, but out of lust for the cash that he was flashing around. How easy the greedy do fall!
With about two hours before dawn, Touya told the “Dirt Brigade” that he needed help getting to the motel. Pat was more than understanding, and insisted that he and the boys see Touya along safely. Funny how that promise included the boys driving him a mile out of his way, and to a rusty old train bridge that crossed the river. Playing the happy drunk, Touya had pretended not to notice the long drive, but to be more concerned at making his friends laugh with funny songs in Japanese.
Just to keep the charade going, Touya made sure that he stumbled out of the car and into the dirt.
“This is too easy, man. This guy is so fucked up!” Tom laughed as he reached for Touya to help him to his feet.
Pat came up to take the other arm and warned, “Be careful with that damned coat, we can get a lot of cash for that thing!”
When both men were in position, and Touya was on his feet, he brought both men together with enough force to knock them out cold. Letting them hit the ground, Touya went for Duke first.
Duke had just gotten out of the car with his knife and the rope when the other two went down, and hadn’t seen what had taken place. There wasn’t a struggle when Touya grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. For a moment Duke was stunned, but as Touya placed his hands on the sides of his face, Duke’s expression was one of pure terror.
Touya’s eyes had dilated and turned icy blue, which left them empty and glowing with an eerie light.
Duke was so stricken with fear that he dropped the knife and rope without a thought. “Devil!” He gasped. “You’re the Devil, aren’t you?”
Touya bore his fangs, “No, I’m not the one who has a score to settle with God, and I don’t need another soul- I’m just here for the food.” And without further hesitation, Touya drove his fangs into the man’s neck.
Normally, Touya would have used his mind to deaden the pain for his victim, but for Duke, he would do no such thing. He wanted Duke to feel it all. It was his punishment for mistaking him for the devil. He did, however, use his mind to render Duke mute. He had no care to hear the man scream from the pain, he just wanted to know that Duke was feeling it.
Pulling back, feeling the blood course through him, Touya stood there with his eyes closed for several moments. “Lucky for you, I don’t kill my prey,” he whispered, opening his eyes to look at Duke. “You’re going to remember me doing this to you. I think that is fitting, don’t you?” He looked at Duke as if he could reply. “But you won’t tell anyone about it. You’ll be too afraid. You’ll fear seeing me, or someone like me, and you’ll never prey on the weak again.”
[CENTER]****[CENTER]
The first rays of dawn were about to break the horizon as Touya entered his apartment. He had feed heavily on all three men, and set their memories to his liking before returning home. In all honesty, he felt like a gorged tick! Anger had fuelled the need for the blood and forced him to take more than was needed from all the men. The blood loss had been so great that he even called 911 to clean up the mess that he had made. Of course, he had been careful and used a drop of his blood on each man to hide the bite marks. Still, he was kicking himself for being so sloppy about the situation, and for being so cruel.
After neatly hanging his coat in the closet, which acted as a break between the bed and kitchenette, he walked over to close the dark curtains over the windows. It was going to be a long day. He could feel it now. The sun had come up and he was angry as hell. There were no shadows for him to hide in now, no moonlight to give him strength, and no hunt to take his mind off of the happenings of a long night; only a darkened room that felt like a jail cell at times. The blood should have energized him, but he felt tired and listless-his mind going places that he didn’t want to be. The woman’s words were still eating at him, and now he had Duke’s words too. “Devil.” How could he see the salvation of his soul? Duke was right, he was a devil, and Duke wasn’t the first to proclaim it. Surely, he wouldn’t be the last.
Touya kicked off his boots and sat them next to the closet door. He turned and eyed the computer, but decided that he wasn’t in the mood to mess with the thing. No, virtual killing was not going to ease him today. Neither would surfing or chatting. Besides, who would he talk to but some blood sucker that would ridicule him for taking the words seriously?
Giving into his frustration, he decided to strip and go to bed. Butt naked, he padded over to the sink, grabbed a glass from the dish drainer, and filled it with water. After a few sips, he topped it off and headed for the bed. The headboard of the bed was one of those types that doubled as a bookshelf, which gave him the perfect place to set his water. Besides water, the shelf held his alarm clock, phone, and a few stray books that he like to read in bed.
Crawling between the soft, multi-colored flannel blanket and coton fitted sheet, he looked at the books above his head. There were books in Japanese as well as English. He pulled out a Japanese book, and studied the cover. It was a new book, but the language from his homeland always seemed old to him, regardless of how much the language had changed over the 500 years. One word had remained the same, oni, or devil. Like Dukes words tonight, he could still recall the first time he had been called a devil.
The only son, and heir to a Shogun on Japan’s southern most island, he had lived a good life: he had been schooled by the finest minds; taught to fight by the strongest and bravest men in his father’s lands; and he had his pick of the most beautiful women. However, none of it had mattered. The only thing that had ever touched his heart was the words of a wandering missionary priest named Francis Xavier. The man who would one day be know as a saint, had come to preach the Gospel to all of Japan. His words had set a blaze in Touya’s young heart. At first, his father thought nothing of it and allowed the priest to preach in his region. Touya had even been baptized and schooled in a brief Theology of Rome. Touya had been blissful then. He had been able to see God in everything, and everyone. The world had become a magical place filled with hope.
It had lasted for one amazing year, but then things changed. Touya took ill and the local healers had been dumbfounded by the cause. It was a group of local monks that first blamed Francis and his strange teachings for the illness, saying that he had led the people astray and the gods were angry for it. Desperate not to loose his only heir, Touya’s father had driven out Francis and his acolytes, leaving the new Christian population lost and confused. The local monks suggested the aid of a healer that had entered the region only days before. Little did anyone know that this healer was a vampire, who had been paid by the monks to feed from the young noble; attacking him in his sleep and making him believe it was only nightmares. Touya had been too weak to go to his Christian brothers to tell them of the dreams. He begged his father to bring St. Francis to him, but his father had refused.
The healer had been summoned, and arrived, the night that St. Francis had been driven out of the region. Insisting that he be alone with the boy for the entire night, the healer shut himself in with Touya. He had been too weak to fight the monster that sprang upon him. And the vampire had rendered him voiceless with his mind. The next thing Touya remembered was awakening to the taste of blood in his mouth, and the uncontrollable urge to take in all of it that he could get. There had been no thought to it, instinct had taken over.
“Tonight and tomorrow your body will be changing, and you will feel a great deal of pain because of it,” the vampire had explained. “Your body will be adapting and making itself ready for the blood that gives us life.”
These hadn’t been empty words. The next twenty-four hours were hell. Touya’s heart struggled to beat as his body jerked from muscle spasms. His head pounded as the blood made its way into vital organs, and brought them back to life. It felt like his insides were being torn apart, which made him grateful that he had been in and out of consciousness for most of the period.
Late in the evening on the second night, Touya was able to move around his room without pain. However, the pain had been replaced with a terrible hunger. His mouth was dry and his stomach grumbled, and spasmed, like it never had in life. His dark teacher explained that he would need to feed, and feed heavily this first night. Touya had wanted to refuse, but the hunger was insatiable. Filled with fear of the unknown, he fallowed the creature into the night.
Once outside the castle grounds, they took to the sky like two wingless demons. Finding that he was being lead to one of the surrounding villages was almost as frightening as learning that he could fly. He knew these people; he had been there when St. Francis and his followers had come preaching and baptizing. He had brothers and sisters in Christ there, and he would be feeding on them as sure as Satan would feed on the souls of the damned.
Touya had found some solace in the fact that the victims were a family on the outskirt of the village. These people were some of the few that he hadn’t known. The family had consisted of a mother and father with five children of varying ages-all old enough to walk and talk. The mother had been Touya’s first victim. He had been so horrified that his companion had to tear her wrist himself and thrust it against Touya’s lips.
It only took a moment for the blood to entice him into feeding. Touya was overwhelmed by the sweetness and the warmth as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. Feeding from the man was done without a thought. All existed was the ecstasy of the blood as it over-road all of his senses and forced his body into rapture. He hadn’t even noticed that his new instincts had told him when to stop feeding. It was only when his demonic savior brought the youngest child to him that Touya found himself again. Like a drunk frightened sober, Touya sprang to his feet and ran.
He was at a door that he had known all to well, before he could even catch his breath. He had joyfully entered this home on several occasions to speak with St. Francis. Now St. Francis was gone, but his bother in Christ would still be here. This was a place were he could find comfort and help in his condition.
“Oukou-sama?” The sleepy man gasped in amazement, holding the grass matt aside in the doorframe. “What is the prince doing out so late in the night? If it is to see Francis-sama, he had been driven out.”
“I need your help, brother; something terrible has happened to me.”
Without farther questioning, the sleepy man let Touya in his small home. The home itself was a one room, wooden hut. With one room, the rest of the family would be hearing the conversation, but that didn’t matter to Touya. He needed this man’s help. Setting next to the firer, which was lit in a small box pit in the center of the room, Touya told the man of the evil healer that had come to his father’s home. His sleepy brother became more frantic with each bit of detail.
“You must drive this demon out of me!” Touya pleaded.
His brother in Christ was at a loss, but quietly nodded his head in reply. Getting up from his spot on the hard wooden floor, the man walked over to a box and opened it. Inside lay a book and a silver crucifix. The man took these from the box and brought them to Touya. Flipping through the book, the man quickly found the only verse that he had learned to read, John 3:16. Touya took comfort in the words, but when the man lifted the crucifix, he was overcome with the power that it held! The power had raged against him like a great fire, the invisible flames threatening to consume him. He bore his fangs and his eyes glowed icy blue in the firelight.
The man threw himself back, “Oni!”
Touya sprang up in his bed, covered with sweat. Frantically, his head flew from side to side, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings. The room had a glow which told him that it had to be the early afternoon. Dropping back down onto the pillow, he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the clock. He had been right; it was only 12:38 p.m. It was going to be another long day in a darkened room.
By Mishi
Chapter two
The Darkened Room
Oukou-sama – Oukou [oe-koe] is the title used for prince. It could also be used for king or high ranking men of great importance. Sama [sa with an a as in ah, and a ma as in mama] is added for the emphasis on respect.
To say that Touya’s apartment was small was an understatement. The only apartment over a “mom and pop” grocery store, was an L-shaped room that had a kitchenette, bathroom, and open space that doubled as a bedroom and living room. The walls were light blue with thick black curtains over the one and only window. The tops of the curtains had been nailed to the woodwork so that the sunlight could be kept out. The floors were hardwood with a large Asian rug stretched across the floor in living room. Opposite the window, and against one wall, was the bed. The corner had made a perfect fit for the bed, which ended just a few feet before a walk in closet. On the wall between the bed and window-just right of the door-was the computer and a large bookshelf. Under the window was a small shelf with a larger one standing next to it, towards the corner. Across from the front door was the bathroom, and there was a recliner setting next to the door frame. Very simple, but it worked for Touya.
Touya stormed into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. Throwing his coat onto the bed at his left, he stalked towards the bathroom, which was huge by comparison to the rest of the place. “Salvation of my soul,” he mumbled, slamming yet another door. Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, he pulled off this boots, followed by his socks. Shooting up on his feet again, he looked in the mirror. “Damn it! That bastard destroyed my shirt,” he growled, looking down at his shirt, picking at it with his fingers. He gritted his teeth as he jerked it up and pulled it from his body. After tossing it in the tiny trash can, he looked at the blood that was left on his rib cage. The rips in the shirt had told him that there had been at least three slashes there, but they were gone now. He should have healed slower than that until he had more blood. There should have been scar tissue left, but this was completely healed. What had the woman done to him? Was that the reason for the power he had felt as he awoke before her?
He picked up a long handled mirror and placed it reflective side facing the back of his head so he could see the damage in the wall mirror. There was too much blood mixed in the hair. “Shit, he had to crack the skull to get all that!” He poked at his head. There wasn’t even a tender spot left behind. It should have taken days of feeding to heal that sort of damage; even vampires had trouble with major head injuries. But here he stood, good as new with only the blood left behind to tell the tale. He thought of her panicked face again, and put the hand mirror down. Placing both hands on the sink, he bent over it. His head hanging down, he whispered, “I must have scared the hell out of her. To look like this, and then pop up like I did…” He shook his head, “Crazy or not, I should have tried harder to take that image from her.”
Shaking away all thoughts, he removed the last of his garments and moved to the shower. It was a small stall with a green glass door-the bumpy type that you couldn’t see through. It always reminded him of the old green glass Coke bottles. He could still remember carrying the cartons of bottles home at the end of a long night of hunting. He missed getting glass bottles, which always kept the pop colder than the new plastic ones.
When the shower stall door was completely closed, he turned the water on as hot as he could get it. Scolding hot water could not hurt him, and he loved to feel the boiling water on his skin; it made him feel cleaner than water at a cooler temperature. And though his body wasn’t as cold as the truly dead, it was cooler than his more human counterparts; so by turning up the heat, he came out of the shower with warm skin that almost passed for a normal body temperature.
Placing his hands on the wall, he leaned his head under the water. The water ran red as it reached his feet. He closed his eyes and let the water run over his body for several long moments before moving. Running his hands through his hair, he made sure that every bit of it was good and wet before adding the shampoo. It was a fight to get the tangles and clumps of dried blood to come loose, but he managed to get all the blood out.
As the suds flowed down his back and over his firm buttocks, he arched his back and let himself enjoy the water. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time to make sure all the shampoo was out of it, then went for the bar of soap that lay on the small shower caddy, which was hanging from a nail on the wall in front of him. Without using a wash cloth, he lathered the soap and ran his hands over his body. He lathered his powerful arms first. Then, moving his hand in tiny circles, he ran the soap over his well defined pecs and abs. He felt tired and the water and soap were relaxing him. He wondered if he wanted to go back out, or to wait until tomorrow night to hunt again. Letting his hands wander, he thought staying in might not be a bad idea.
Then her words ran through his mind again. ‘How can I be mistaken for a demon one minute, and be told that my soul can be saved the next?’ Just like that he was tense once more. “I’ll hunt,” he muttered and turned to rinse off the soap.
Turning off the water, he stepped from the shower and quickly dried himself off. The agitation had returned and he was ready to run from it. After opening the bathroom door to let the steam out of the room, he reached for the hairdryer. He hated putting on clothes when his body was still damp, so he typically dried his hair in the nude. Drying the long hair was always a time consuming task. There was so much of it that his body would be fully air dried by time he was finished.
Deciding on a pair of reddish brown leather pants and a similar colored long sleeved cotton shirt, Touya threw on the clothes and went for his favorite black boots. After checking on his sword, he was ready to hit the road.
Once out on the streets, Touya headed for the closest dive bar that he could find. He learned quickly that if you flashed enough cash in the wrong places, your meal seemed to come right to you. It was sort of a vampire carryout strategy-hand out cash and walk home with a meal following close behind. It was perfect for the sort of mood he was in. Since a vampire couldn’t get drunk, unless drinking the blood of someone who already had alcohol in their blood stream, he could slam back the drinks without worrying; yet appear to be very vulnerable.
It took only the flash of a single hundred for the first thugs to step up to the plate. The man was tall and lanky, and looked like he was somewhere in his thirties. He had dirty long blonde hair that he had pushed back over his shoulders. A stained white tee-shirt and black leather vest covered the top of his body, while faded blue jeans and black biker boots covered the bottom half.
“Hey buddy, you want to shoot some pool? We’re one person short for partners,” the man pointed to his two pals that were leaning against a wall near the pool table.
Touya looked over his shoulder at the men. There was another blond, but this one was going grey. He had to be the brains of the group, Touya figured, because his companions were much younger than he was. He had to have at least fifteen years on them. He also had a beer gut, and seemed like he would be the physically slow type. He wore similar boots and jeans, but traded in the white tee for a black Budweiser tee. The dark haired man to his right was the muscle. There was no mistaking this man for anything else. His arms and chest were huge, and stretching his red muscle shirt tight. His jeans and snakeskin boots seemed to be in good condition, like this man took care with his appearance; even if the others didn’t bother with theirs.
“Sure,” Touya said, ordering another glass of bourbon before slamming down what was left of the one he already had.
Blondie smiled and stuck out his hand, “I’m Pat.” Touya shook it. As he followed, Pat pointed to the Budman and said, “This is Duke.” Duke smiled his friendliest smile as Touya was directed to look at the final man, “And that’s Tom.” Tom just nodded.
“I’m Touya.”
“That’s some name, Touya.” Duke said, handing him a pool cue.
“Where ya from?” Tom jumped in.
“I was born in Japan, but I’ve lived in the States for a long time.”
“Your English’s good.” Tom commented, setting up the balls for the break.
“I travel a great deal, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”
A blonde waitress in a pink tube top, four inch red heals, and a red vinyl skirt so short you could see her pink panties, sashayed over to slip Touya his fresh drink. Though he was disgusted with her lack of modesty, he gave her an encouraging grin before slipping her a twenty and telling her to keep the change. She showed her gratitude by slowly placing the bill in-between her breast before walking away.
That’s how it started. The rest of the evening went just as Touya had expected it to go. His companions questioned him about home, family, and friends-so many wasted words just to learn if he would be missed right way. Touya made it clear that he was carrying a lot of money for travel reasons, and how he had left his car at the motel and walked to the bar. He gave them the typical story about getting into town too late to find reasonable accommodations. The best he could find, supposedly, was the motel a few blocks way, just off the main highway. The “Dirt Brigade” accepted all he said, not out of any sense of realism, but out of lust for the cash that he was flashing around. How easy the greedy do fall!
With about two hours before dawn, Touya told the “Dirt Brigade” that he needed help getting to the motel. Pat was more than understanding, and insisted that he and the boys see Touya along safely. Funny how that promise included the boys driving him a mile out of his way, and to a rusty old train bridge that crossed the river. Playing the happy drunk, Touya had pretended not to notice the long drive, but to be more concerned at making his friends laugh with funny songs in Japanese.
Just to keep the charade going, Touya made sure that he stumbled out of the car and into the dirt.
“This is too easy, man. This guy is so fucked up!” Tom laughed as he reached for Touya to help him to his feet.
Pat came up to take the other arm and warned, “Be careful with that damned coat, we can get a lot of cash for that thing!”
When both men were in position, and Touya was on his feet, he brought both men together with enough force to knock them out cold. Letting them hit the ground, Touya went for Duke first.
Duke had just gotten out of the car with his knife and the rope when the other two went down, and hadn’t seen what had taken place. There wasn’t a struggle when Touya grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. For a moment Duke was stunned, but as Touya placed his hands on the sides of his face, Duke’s expression was one of pure terror.
Touya’s eyes had dilated and turned icy blue, which left them empty and glowing with an eerie light.
Duke was so stricken with fear that he dropped the knife and rope without a thought. “Devil!” He gasped. “You’re the Devil, aren’t you?”
Touya bore his fangs, “No, I’m not the one who has a score to settle with God, and I don’t need another soul- I’m just here for the food.” And without further hesitation, Touya drove his fangs into the man’s neck.
Normally, Touya would have used his mind to deaden the pain for his victim, but for Duke, he would do no such thing. He wanted Duke to feel it all. It was his punishment for mistaking him for the devil. He did, however, use his mind to render Duke mute. He had no care to hear the man scream from the pain, he just wanted to know that Duke was feeling it.
Pulling back, feeling the blood course through him, Touya stood there with his eyes closed for several moments. “Lucky for you, I don’t kill my prey,” he whispered, opening his eyes to look at Duke. “You’re going to remember me doing this to you. I think that is fitting, don’t you?” He looked at Duke as if he could reply. “But you won’t tell anyone about it. You’ll be too afraid. You’ll fear seeing me, or someone like me, and you’ll never prey on the weak again.”
[CENTER]****[CENTER]
The first rays of dawn were about to break the horizon as Touya entered his apartment. He had feed heavily on all three men, and set their memories to his liking before returning home. In all honesty, he felt like a gorged tick! Anger had fuelled the need for the blood and forced him to take more than was needed from all the men. The blood loss had been so great that he even called 911 to clean up the mess that he had made. Of course, he had been careful and used a drop of his blood on each man to hide the bite marks. Still, he was kicking himself for being so sloppy about the situation, and for being so cruel.
After neatly hanging his coat in the closet, which acted as a break between the bed and kitchenette, he walked over to close the dark curtains over the windows. It was going to be a long day. He could feel it now. The sun had come up and he was angry as hell. There were no shadows for him to hide in now, no moonlight to give him strength, and no hunt to take his mind off of the happenings of a long night; only a darkened room that felt like a jail cell at times. The blood should have energized him, but he felt tired and listless-his mind going places that he didn’t want to be. The woman’s words were still eating at him, and now he had Duke’s words too. “Devil.” How could he see the salvation of his soul? Duke was right, he was a devil, and Duke wasn’t the first to proclaim it. Surely, he wouldn’t be the last.
Touya kicked off his boots and sat them next to the closet door. He turned and eyed the computer, but decided that he wasn’t in the mood to mess with the thing. No, virtual killing was not going to ease him today. Neither would surfing or chatting. Besides, who would he talk to but some blood sucker that would ridicule him for taking the words seriously?
Giving into his frustration, he decided to strip and go to bed. Butt naked, he padded over to the sink, grabbed a glass from the dish drainer, and filled it with water. After a few sips, he topped it off and headed for the bed. The headboard of the bed was one of those types that doubled as a bookshelf, which gave him the perfect place to set his water. Besides water, the shelf held his alarm clock, phone, and a few stray books that he like to read in bed.
Crawling between the soft, multi-colored flannel blanket and coton fitted sheet, he looked at the books above his head. There were books in Japanese as well as English. He pulled out a Japanese book, and studied the cover. It was a new book, but the language from his homeland always seemed old to him, regardless of how much the language had changed over the 500 years. One word had remained the same, oni, or devil. Like Dukes words tonight, he could still recall the first time he had been called a devil.
The only son, and heir to a Shogun on Japan’s southern most island, he had lived a good life: he had been schooled by the finest minds; taught to fight by the strongest and bravest men in his father’s lands; and he had his pick of the most beautiful women. However, none of it had mattered. The only thing that had ever touched his heart was the words of a wandering missionary priest named Francis Xavier. The man who would one day be know as a saint, had come to preach the Gospel to all of Japan. His words had set a blaze in Touya’s young heart. At first, his father thought nothing of it and allowed the priest to preach in his region. Touya had even been baptized and schooled in a brief Theology of Rome. Touya had been blissful then. He had been able to see God in everything, and everyone. The world had become a magical place filled with hope.
It had lasted for one amazing year, but then things changed. Touya took ill and the local healers had been dumbfounded by the cause. It was a group of local monks that first blamed Francis and his strange teachings for the illness, saying that he had led the people astray and the gods were angry for it. Desperate not to loose his only heir, Touya’s father had driven out Francis and his acolytes, leaving the new Christian population lost and confused. The local monks suggested the aid of a healer that had entered the region only days before. Little did anyone know that this healer was a vampire, who had been paid by the monks to feed from the young noble; attacking him in his sleep and making him believe it was only nightmares. Touya had been too weak to go to his Christian brothers to tell them of the dreams. He begged his father to bring St. Francis to him, but his father had refused.
The healer had been summoned, and arrived, the night that St. Francis had been driven out of the region. Insisting that he be alone with the boy for the entire night, the healer shut himself in with Touya. He had been too weak to fight the monster that sprang upon him. And the vampire had rendered him voiceless with his mind. The next thing Touya remembered was awakening to the taste of blood in his mouth, and the uncontrollable urge to take in all of it that he could get. There had been no thought to it, instinct had taken over.
“Tonight and tomorrow your body will be changing, and you will feel a great deal of pain because of it,” the vampire had explained. “Your body will be adapting and making itself ready for the blood that gives us life.”
These hadn’t been empty words. The next twenty-four hours were hell. Touya’s heart struggled to beat as his body jerked from muscle spasms. His head pounded as the blood made its way into vital organs, and brought them back to life. It felt like his insides were being torn apart, which made him grateful that he had been in and out of consciousness for most of the period.
Late in the evening on the second night, Touya was able to move around his room without pain. However, the pain had been replaced with a terrible hunger. His mouth was dry and his stomach grumbled, and spasmed, like it never had in life. His dark teacher explained that he would need to feed, and feed heavily this first night. Touya had wanted to refuse, but the hunger was insatiable. Filled with fear of the unknown, he fallowed the creature into the night.
Once outside the castle grounds, they took to the sky like two wingless demons. Finding that he was being lead to one of the surrounding villages was almost as frightening as learning that he could fly. He knew these people; he had been there when St. Francis and his followers had come preaching and baptizing. He had brothers and sisters in Christ there, and he would be feeding on them as sure as Satan would feed on the souls of the damned.
Touya had found some solace in the fact that the victims were a family on the outskirt of the village. These people were some of the few that he hadn’t known. The family had consisted of a mother and father with five children of varying ages-all old enough to walk and talk. The mother had been Touya’s first victim. He had been so horrified that his companion had to tear her wrist himself and thrust it against Touya’s lips.
It only took a moment for the blood to entice him into feeding. Touya was overwhelmed by the sweetness and the warmth as it ran over his tongue and down his throat. Feeding from the man was done without a thought. All existed was the ecstasy of the blood as it over-road all of his senses and forced his body into rapture. He hadn’t even noticed that his new instincts had told him when to stop feeding. It was only when his demonic savior brought the youngest child to him that Touya found himself again. Like a drunk frightened sober, Touya sprang to his feet and ran.
He was at a door that he had known all to well, before he could even catch his breath. He had joyfully entered this home on several occasions to speak with St. Francis. Now St. Francis was gone, but his bother in Christ would still be here. This was a place were he could find comfort and help in his condition.
“Oukou-sama?” The sleepy man gasped in amazement, holding the grass matt aside in the doorframe. “What is the prince doing out so late in the night? If it is to see Francis-sama, he had been driven out.”
“I need your help, brother; something terrible has happened to me.”
Without farther questioning, the sleepy man let Touya in his small home. The home itself was a one room, wooden hut. With one room, the rest of the family would be hearing the conversation, but that didn’t matter to Touya. He needed this man’s help. Setting next to the firer, which was lit in a small box pit in the center of the room, Touya told the man of the evil healer that had come to his father’s home. His sleepy brother became more frantic with each bit of detail.
“You must drive this demon out of me!” Touya pleaded.
His brother in Christ was at a loss, but quietly nodded his head in reply. Getting up from his spot on the hard wooden floor, the man walked over to a box and opened it. Inside lay a book and a silver crucifix. The man took these from the box and brought them to Touya. Flipping through the book, the man quickly found the only verse that he had learned to read, John 3:16. Touya took comfort in the words, but when the man lifted the crucifix, he was overcome with the power that it held! The power had raged against him like a great fire, the invisible flames threatening to consume him. He bore his fangs and his eyes glowed icy blue in the firelight.
The man threw himself back, “Oni!”
Touya sprang up in his bed, covered with sweat. Frantically, his head flew from side to side, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings. The room had a glow which told him that it had to be the early afternoon. Dropping back down onto the pillow, he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the clock. He had been right; it was only 12:38 p.m. It was going to be another long day in a darkened room.
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