Aria: Arsonist Stage

Sylvester was out cold. To be honest, anything less and I would've been surprised. He'd lost a hell of a lot of blood, I could tell. Which was why when I'd run back to my room I'd started getting thangs ready. See, Chesh and me went through an arsonist stage when I was a younger vampire and he was just young enough to be immature without consequence. From back in the days of midnight beach barbeques, music festivals and swimming out to sea in a storm.

Anyway, I'd grabbed my trusty box of matches and set to work getting a small fire going in some bowl I found on the floor. Random objects have a habit of gettin' drawn to me, I'm not sure why. Just like, along with the bowl, I found what looked like a car cigarette lighter. Just what I needed. I'd just put the end in the fire when Sylvester burst in. And I may have cried out a little. Can you blame me? My best friend and my...well, I don't really know what I'd call Sylvester yet, were fightin' to the death. He stood there bleedin' for a while before collapsin'. I only just had time to grab him and stop his face collidin' with the floor. I checked out his neck knowin' that was the worst damaged place and, like I thought, Chesh had used his signature moved. A single wound, not too deep and almost like a bullet grazed his neck, but placed in just the right spot that anyone who gets it'll bleed to death in a few minutes. I pulled the cigarette lighter outta the fire, ignoring the sting as it burnt my fingertips a little.

"Oh, hon, you are gonna hate me for this when y'all wake up" I said and pressed the red hot end of the cigarette lighter to Sylvester's neck, sealing the wound.

I know it seems a little over the top since he's a vampire'n all and we heal pretty fast but when you're losing blood that fast y'all got two options: wait for it to heal on its own and most likely end up dying, or let someone cauterise it so you're blood actually stays in your system. Y'know, so you can breathe and all? Do vampires need to breathe? Hell, I don't know. I took the cigarette lighter away from Sylvester's neck and let out a sigh of relief as I saw it'd sealed up nicely and wasn't bleedin' anymore. I blew out the fire and put the cigarette lighter somewhere Sylvester couldn't do hisself any damage. And then I listened. Slowly and groggily, someone was makin' their way up the stairs. I sucked in a deep breath, more out of habit than nerves, and slipped outta the room.

"Cheshire, we need to talk".

The End

365 comments about this exercise Feed