Victoria: Scum of the Earth

I had a free period, and was in the living room, curled up on the couch with my Human Art History book. Over the past while I'd read right up to the chapter that Dalton had turned his nose up at that day in the library - Humans and the Media. I'd asked Mr. Taur a little about human media also, but he'd kind of brushed me off several times whenever I raised the subject. If I was going to get to the bottom of anything, I'd have to do it myself.

The door opened, and Francis and Dalton arrived, chatting away. The school day must have been over.

"Hey, Victoria," said Dalton, looking at me a little warily. I scrambled to get my sunglasses from the coffee table and put them on. He then smiled.

"I'll leave you two alone," Francis said, keeping his head down and heading for his room.

My face heated up as I placed the marker in my book. "People always get so awkward around us," I giggled nervously.

"Ah, who cares?" Dalton grinned and sat down next to me, flicking the TV on with a lazy flick of his wrist.

He started to space out, eyes on the screen. My heart was hammering.

"Dalton," I said quietly.


"I think... I want to talk to you about something."

He turned the channel over absently. "Yeah, okay."

"Well... Lately, I've been-"

"THERE!" he exclaimed, knocking the remote fromt he arm of the couch.

"What?" I demanded, following his pointed finger towards the screen.

It was some kind of chat show.

"- They call themselves citizens? They're not! They're nothing!" A man - a human with thin, greying hair and a look in his eyes that made me uneasy - was flopped in a chair and rambling. "They're the scum of the earth! Their very existance goes against every law in Nature!"

The studio audience applauded, and yells of "Yeah!" came as a response.

"Who?" I asked, appauled.

"Stephen Redding," Dalton murmured, with a swear, almost under his breath.

"No," I said. "Who is the scum of the earth? Who shouldn't exist?"

Dalton turned those gorgeous golden-yellow eyes towards me, a deep sadness lying there. My heart sank as he spoke;

"Monsters, Vicky. He's talking about us."

The End

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