Lucas: burnMature

After a long, hot shower and a couple of hours of crap TV, I’d finally managed to get off to sleep, by which time it was mid morning, and I had circles forming under my eyes. I still managed to get in a few hours sleep before some assholes started yelling outside my front door.

"Mr.Daly, may we come in? Or do you want to come to the station?” some guy shouted, knocking on my door. I pulled a cushion over my head, burying my face in the sofa. I was busy sleeping. They yelled a couple more times, before this loud bang echoed through the room. The bastard had kicked my fucking door in. I sat up as he shouted my name at me.

"Fuck off. I hope you know you're paying for the damage"

"Oh, you just wanna give me a reason to put a bullet in your skull." The dick took off his aviator glasses and hooked them on his shirt, "anyway I have some questions," he told me. Seriously? Did this guy think he was from a movie?

"You kicked down my door to ask me questions? You and your questions can fuck right off,” I grabbed the guy’s collar, dragging him out of the living room and throwing him out.

"Right! That's it, you're under arrest!" He pulled out his gun, pointing it at my head, "and before you try anything... weird, I do have back-up." I laughed. Oh, man, this was just getting better and better. I pulled out my own gun. I didn’t even have to get close to him, or do anything ‘weird’ to hurt him.

"Are you really sure you wanna fuck with me?" If he knew what I was, chances were he knew not to fuck with me. I have an exceptional aim, y’know.

"You sure you wanna fuck with me? You become wanted the whole American police force will be after you, and I'm sure your vampire brethren won't be too happy about you outing them either.” He pulled the safety off his gun, "and I wouldn't want to piss off the people whose daughter you slaughtered."

I arched an eyebrow, "I didn't kill anyone." At least, not recently. I wasn’t stupid, y’know? If I was reckless, they’d be at my door with pitchforks and torches, baying for my blood. No, I’d killed maybe two people, mostly because they pissed me off. This guy? He was pissing me off.

“You seem resistant to questioning, let me talk to you and maybe I'll believe you." I doubted it.

"Drop your gun first," I told him.

"You first, I don’t trust fucking supernatural zombies."

"And I don't trust people that break down my door to ask me questions, or jump to conclusions about who I have or haven't killed. Drop it,” I bared my fangs warningly, watching him as he cautiously lowered his gun to the floor.

"I don't normally jump to conclusions unless the evidence is pretty clear."

I waited until he was stood back upright before tucking my gun back in the waistband of my jeans.  "Well you're an idiot, I haven't killed /anyone/."

I watched him warily as he picked his gun back up, sliding it back into its holster.  "Do you know this woman, dumb question but...”  he held up the picture of the chick I’d fucked last night.

"Not really. I fucked her, but I don't even know her name," I told him.

"Convenient. Well she was found dead last night, drained of her blood which was smeared all over her. Some of your blood was even found at the scene, care to explain?" I lifted up the back of my shirt and turned to show him the nearly healed scratch marks. "So there was a struggle when you tore out her neck, I'll put that in my report. So why'd you kill her?"

"No, man, they're sex scars. We had sex, I bit her a bit, and she fucking loved it, and scratched my back up. You never had a chick scratch your back when you're having sex?" If he hadn’t, man was he doing it wrong.

"Why'd you kill her!"

I growled, getting angry at this douchebag. "I didn't. If she died, it wasn't my fault. Do you think that just because I have to drink blood to survive that I just go around killing everyone I fuck?"

“Why the fuck not? You get carried away and suddenly the sex isn't enough, you want the thrill of hearing her heart stop like yours! Because you're a sick and twisted bastard, admit that you did it!" Sometimes, I get the feeling people in this town actually want me to kill them. It’s not that much of a thrill killing someone, really. It’s nice to have them off your back, if they’re annoying cunts, but I wouldn’t call it a thrill.

"No, hearing her telling me I'm a good fuck and that she wants to see me again is much better, trust me."

"I don't fucking trust you, that girl's blood is on your hands and I'm gonna prove it." I could smell that wolf nearby. I glanced over to see him hiding out in the shadows, smiling. Fucking dick. He was gonna regret ever crossing me. I’d make sure of it.

"What happened to hearing me out and believing me, huh? People these days,” I scowled. "Well good luck proving it, I didn't kill anyone."

“What you mean 'human rights'? Too bad you're not fucking human, scumbag."

I reached out and took the first fistful of clothing I found, pulling him close to me. "That chick's blood is not on my hands, dickbag, but yours will be if you don't fucking drop it,” I threatened him in a low, dangerous voice. No one in this town fucked with me anymore, not even that wolf at the gas station. He hated me, sure, but he rarely did anything to actually piss me off. I wondered who was making this jerk act up. And who had told him what I am.

He was quick to stick his gun against my chest. Humans are so judgemental. "So I get to put you down for assaulting a police officer first, then I call the Feds in, announce there's a vampire killer here and this story blows up. Your face gets plastered everywhere and I'm sure there're some vampires out there that know you and would love to tear you to pieces. Now let the fuck go before I put a giant hole in that dead heart of yours."

"It won't kill me, idiot," I smiled coldly, "it'll hurt like a bitch, hell you might even get to run for a little way, but I'd catch up to you. You'd never get to make that call."

"I know it won't, I had a little birdie that told me all about you and would be able to go make that call in my stead, you kill me and it blows up quicker. I'm not scared fucker. I'd rather die to bring you down than be anything like you." I almost turned him right there and then, just to show him what it was like, but then I’d have made myself an enemy that was just as fast and strong as me. Like I said, I’m not that stupid.

"Would that little birdie be the guy that runs the gas station?" I asked, glaring a little. I wouldn’t put it past him to be this stupid.

"What Judas? That weak prick? What would he know?"

"Tell me who it was," I demanded.

"Why? So you can kill them too? No deal. I got a report to write and calls to make. So get the fuck off me."

"I didn't kill anyone! Don't condemn me just because I'm different to you," I shouted at him, but it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference.

"Deaf ears scum bag, deaf ears,” he told me. I dropped him, memorising his face. This man would suffer, I’d make sure of it.

"You're the scum bag, not me,” I said, disgusted. He just got into his car and drove off. I could hear Judas laughing, but before I could even look at him, he was gone. Wedging my door shut, I lit a cigarette and headed over to the gas station. I wanted to watch him and his livelihood burn to the ground. 

The End

0 comments about this exercise Feed