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Sirens blared once more in the distance, as it had the previous several nights. The statistics showed a clear rise in violent crime activity in the city of Blakeston. You could not turn on the television without being besieged with news stories about someone being beaten or shot. And those were the lucky ones. Morale was sinking to an all-time low and city officials seemed resigned to playing the role of janitors, cleaning up a mess and simply moving on to the next.
James rolled over in bed and looked at the clock beside him. 12:04. The next stop for his eyes was the window beside the nightstand. He was on the top floor of a twenty story apartment building. He enjoyed leaving the curtains open and gazing out across the cityscape, especially at night. It was raining, as it had the past several days. He got up out of bed and leaned against the windowsill. He was a fair distance from downtown, which not only gave him an excellent view of the inner city, but it also drowned out most of the brighter city lights. The rain also played its part in masking the light as well as the fact tonight was the new moon. He could barely make out the giant Blakeston Center tower, its sixty-five floors towering over the center of downtown. He slowly walked over to his closet door and slid it open. He reached for his black raincoat and put it on. When he could not sleep he liked to take a walk. He enjoyed the crisp cool air that accompanied the frequent rainstorms. Once he had told his coworkers about his midnight walks and they proceeded to scold him. Are you insane? they would ask. You're going to get yourself killed and Haven't you been watching the news lately were also common phrases he would hear. They were right about the danger. And probably right about a few other things as well. However, he did not walk alone. Not anymore. He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small handgun and a cell phone. He concealed them inside his raincoat. After slipping on his rain boots he was on his way out the door. He was glad that the elevator had finally been fixed the day before. For two weeks he had to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs. By the time he would get back up to his apartment he would be back asleep in no time. While tiring, it was a pretty good work out. Working out was something he should probably think about doing a little more often. He always thought he was in fairly decent shape but he was completely embarrassed one day to see a man twice his age shoot up the stairs right past him. Once out onto the street he pulled the hood over his head and walked out into the storm. The winds were calm, so all he would have to contend with would be the streams of water. He generally took the same route each night, one trip around the closest few blocks. Most of the immediate area was full of smaller apartment buildings and a few aging businesses. On his more restless nights he would walk two miles over to the park. It was a pleasant oasis amongst the dirty city streets. He figured to keep it simple tonight and stick to his usual routine. Every step he took caused a noticeable splattering of water to spray out all around him. The streets were inundated with water, as is expected during the winter months. On average it would rain four to five days a week. Just another strike against the already depressing atmosphere of the city. Despite the rain, the streets remained filthy. Trash littered the gutters, cars rusted along the city curbs, and rodents invaded even the most fortified of homes. At least at night he could not see the world as it normally looked. The darkness shrouds most of the worst offenses. Still, he did not walk for the scenery. He still enjoyed the surprisingly fresh air and the relative calmness that night usually brings. Usually. As he approached the corner of a neighboring apartment building he suddenly heard arguing. Are ya going to give me my money or aren't ya? a man suddenly yelled out. James stopped at the corner and poked his head out from behind a brick wall to see what was going on. It was difficult to make out. The rain was distorting both sight and sound and the nearest street light was too far away to provide much help. There seemed to be two figures a few dozen yards down the sidewalk. "No!" a sudden shriek sounded out. It was a female voice. It's mine! I need it! You have no right! The male figure backed away for a moment before pulling something out of his coat. Three loud pops suddenly rang out through the air, momentarily drowning out the roar of the rain. It only took James a moment to figure out it had to be gunshots. The man shot her. Shot her down at point blank range. Three times no less. The female figure slumped down to the ground as the male figure bent down to examine her, no doubt looking for the money he was demanding only moments before. James was momentarily stunned. Hearing sirens every night was one thing, but he had never before witnessed something such as a murder with his own eyes. Some woman was just gunned down a mere block from his home. Most of the worst crimes were confined to the inner city. Despite the word from his coworkers and other well-wishers, he always felt his neighborhood was relatively safe. Now the very streets he walked were now stained in blood. He did not have much in life. Was it took much to ask to be able to take a walk or lay in bed at night without someone dying? Hey! James suddenly cried out in anger as he rounded the corner to confront the man. The man was still rummaging through the woman's clothes before suddenly bolting to his feet. The man was obviously surprised to see anyone out on such a night. Unfortunately being startled did little to affect the man's reaction time. The man pointed his gun at James and started firing. James quickly ducked behind a mailbox. Whether it was the box or the man's rain soaked eyes, several bullets impaled themselves harmlessly along the apartment building wall. A series of footsteps quickly followed as James looked out from his hiding spot to see the man running off into the night. And then what? When would this man kill again? Who would he kill again? Would it be tomorrow night? Would it be right outside James' own building. He was still furious. He never considered himself to be a very brave man, but he just could not stand idly by while people are shot right in front of him. Not tonight. Not in his own backyard. James quickly rose to his feet and ran down the dimly lit street towards the fleeing murderer. Wait. James stopped briefly as he came upon the woman. He knelt down and placed a finger on her neck to check for a pulse. The world around him faded away for those brief seconds. His anger was temporarily suspended. It was a young woman, fairly pretty. Her already bland clothes were left fairly disheveled, from both the rain and the man. Why was she out here at night? Why was it so important for that man to kill her? How much money could she have had. She looked poor. She looked sad. Maybe it was just the effects of the rain. Maybe it was that he had never seen a dead body before. A dead body. Two shots in the chest and one in the head. Yes, she was definitely dead.\ James' anger returned anew and the world around him faded back into focus. He shot to his feet and resumed his pursuit of the man while reaching into his coat for his cell phone. 911, what is your emergency? a female voice inquired. Hello? I need help, James cried out over the rain while trying to use his head to shield the phone from the bulk of the rain. Some girl has been shot. Where are you at sir? I'm at...um... James had to pause for a moment to remember the street names. He has lived here now a full year yet still has yet to memorize the names of the streets he walks down almost every day. She's near the corner of Johnson and Twenty-Fifth. James was still running. The man had a decent head start on him. The street grew darker with each building he passed. He could just barely make out the splashing sounds the man was making up the road. James was still on the right track. How did the girl get shot? Is she still breathing? She's dead, he cried out. His soaked hands make it increasingly more difficult to hold on to the phone while running. Some man shot her. I don't know who. I saw...I saw him. Kind of, he... Slow down sir. Are you running? I didn't get a good look at the man. He ran off. He's heading... Which way was he going? It was hard to tell which way he was facing. Wait. The Blakeston Center tower was almost due north of his apartment. That meant now he must be going... East! The man ran off to the East. I'm following. Sir, emergency personnel have already been dispatched. Please do not chase after the suspect. If he is armed you could get yourself seriously hurt. He'll be long gone by the time you get there! James protested. Sir, for your own safety, please cease your pursuit of the suspect. Before he could protest again, the phone suddenly cut out. He brought it in front of his face and the display on the front was completely dead. The battery should have been fully charged. The water must have damaged it. It did not matter though. He was already able to relay all of the relevant information to the police. Now he would be able to focus on catching up with... James suddenly slid to a stop. The splashing sounds had ceased. The man was maybe fifty yards ahead of him. James was not very familiar with this part of the neighborhood. There were no street lights in sight and most of the buildings looked run down and abandoned. He quickly put his phone back into his coat and reached for his gun. Ever since he moved to this city people have been recommending to him that he buy a gun. He did that along with taking a class on gun safety. He even went so far as taking a couple of trips to a firing range for practice...just in case. He knew how to use his gun. He has just never had to until now. He proceeded very slowly as to minimize the chance of any loud splashing sounds. The rain was coming down as hard as ever, clouding what little vision he had available. What was he doing? Running around in the middle of the night, chasing after a guy who just minutes ago fired shots at him? You're going to get yourself killed you idiot, was one of many thoughts that was starting to become more frequent with every step he took. He was no crime fighter. He could not see. He could not hear. He had no clue where he was. What was he doing? Suddenly a shadow not ten yards in front of him jumped out from behind a pile of what looked to be trash bags. The shadow flew into an adjacent alleyway and was quickly out of sight. James ran to the entrance of the alleyway before stopping right at the corner. He pressed his back against the siding of a brick building before peeking around the corner to see what awaited him. The alleyway was pitch black. If only he had brought a flashlight with him. The man seemed to have the advantage of surprise from behind the trash bags. Why not take the opportunity to fire at James? Maybe the man was out of ammo. Or maybe he could not see anything himself. James could only hope the man was just as scared as he was right now. His hands were trembling. Frigid rain water had been pouring down onto them all night. He could barely get a firm grip on his gun. Common sense tells him that he should just turn around and run home. If he hurries he could be in bed in twenty minutes. A nice warm dry soft bed. Maybe the police can catch up with this man. Perhaps there are clues at the crime scene. Some kind of DNA or other evidence. They will locate the man's residence tomorrow and arrest him. James will turn on the news in the morning and see the man's mug shot. That is a far more feasible outcome than James apprehending the man. And even if he caught him, then what? He can not even call for help anymore. Suddenly a single shot rang out into the night. It came from down the alleyway. James was able to push aside his fear for the moment and run down the alley and into the imposing black. Only by dumb luck did he manage to navigate the garbage cluttered passage. The shot should be just a few yards... Suddenly he noticed a dim light. He stopped running and edged close down the side of the alley. Up ahead the alleyway opened up into some kind of courtyard. His heart was racing as he paused at the edge of the courtyard, the corner of the wall between him and the location of the gunshot. There was a dim light coming from a window four floors above in a building across the length of the yard. The yard itself was a small grassy area dotted with a few trees and a two foot tall wooden fence running along parts of its edges. There seemed to be some kind of scaffolding high up above the yard, keeping the area relatively dry. James decided it was time to get this over with. If he was stupid enough to go this far he might as well save what is left of his nerves and just do it already. After taking a deep breath he gripped his gun in both hands and jumped out from the side of the wall and into full view. James froze, his arms stretched out, gun pointing towards the source of the gunshot. The murderer, the criminal who just minutes ago took several shots at him, lay slumped over on the grass. His gun was a good ten feet away laying on the nearby asphalt. Kneeling over him was a woman. Odd, it looked as if she was kissing him on the side of his face. No...the side of his neck. James remained motionless. He did not know what to make of the situation or how to respond. What on Earth was going on here? Where did she come from and what happened to he man? Was he shot by some unknown assailant who had already fled? Was she trying to help him? The woman, shrouded in a long black cloak, slowly raised herself off of the man and turned to face James. She was perhaps five foot five with dark brown (almost black) hair that flowed down to her waist. Her skin was as pale as her hair was dark. Her face was expressionless, blemished only by a trail of red that dribbled down from the corner of her lips. Her eyes were now locked on James. They were unlike anything James had ever seen before. The glow from the light above created a faint glimmer in them, exposing their deep crimson hue. W-what's going on...here? James stuttered. Was that blood on her face? A better question popped into his head. Was that her blood...or his? The woman took a finger to the blood and wiped it clean before sticking it into her mouth. Go home, she spoke softly. It is not safe for you out here. Did you...kill him? James asked. He was definitely getting a bad vibe from this woman. This whole situation was...well...creepy. Does that bother you? she responded while beginning to walk towards him. I heard a gun shot..., he said, his arms beginning to tremble. She killed him? Did he try to attack her or was it the other way around? James was afraid to find out the answer. He was startled. It was a reflex, and a poor one at that. None of this was making any sense. Even if the shot missed, how did the murderer end up dead? It was difficult to tell if there were any wounds on the man. From this distance there did not appear to be any. The woman had yet to display any kind of weapon and the man had a sizable height and weight advantage over her. Surely she could not have overpowered him. Another question still, did she really have to kill him? She made it seem like it was not the man's intention to hurt her. That bullet was not meant for her. Here she was, still continuing her advance. James knew he had better think of something before he winds up in the same position as that man. Stay back, James warned, focusing his aim squarely on the strange woman. Perhaps all the woman needed was to catch the man off guard. James was at no such disadvantage. He was ready. His gun was pointed right at her. He would not let her hurt him. There is no need for you to share in the same fate as that man, the woman calmly replied, not even bothering to slow her approach. The trembling of his hands continued to worsen. What should he do? He has never fired a gun at someone before. The bad guy was already dead and this woman was not making any specific threats against him. He can not just fire the gun because he is scared. There are laws against that. What if he kills her? What if she only killed that man out of self defense? Maybe she is simply trying to calm the situation down. But why was she out in the middle of the night? What was she doing to the man when James arrived on the scene? And did she just lick the blood off of her finger? James was unable to come to a decision. He was no hero. Roaming around in the night chasing after bad guys was way out of his league. What was he thinking... Soon enough the woman was upon him. She gracefully removed the gun from his grasp and tossed it aside onto the grass. He was frozen in the moment. Despite tonight's recent display of half-hearted bravery, he was a coward. He was resigned to spending his days locked away in his apartment or buried beneath books at the local library. The woman stood there right in front of him, her red eyes not even blinking. You do not belong in the dark, she whispered, leaning in close to his face. As she spoke, James' gaze lowered to the woman's mouth. She deliberately hung after each word, giving him ample time to see two long fangs nestled inside. A smile flashed across her face for a split second before she returned to her previous expressionless stare. James could not even find the words to respond to her. Fangs? Blood? This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe he was still asleep in bed. He never did wake up tonight. He was finally having a full nights rest and at any moment he would be whisked away from this nightmare and he will wake up warm and dry in his bed. If only that were true. But he was not warm and dry and he was not comfortably resting. He was standing in a courtyard behind an alleyway. He was cold. He was sopping wet. His phone was broken. His only means of defense tossed aside like a discarded toy. And now, right in front of his eyes, there was a Vampire staring him down. Very cute, she said, breaking the pause. She finally took a step backward, giving him space to regain some composure. The first time a Human comes across one of us. Each encounter is unique. Unfortunately for the Human, the first time is often the last, She glanced back towards the deceased man laying in the grass. Is...this going to be my last? James spoke up, having managed to unfreeze his voice, at least for the time being. Relax, I have no intention of killing you, she said while shaking her head. Okay... Was she telling the truth? I meant what I said though. It is not safe for you out here. Her gaze was once more locked on James. Are there are other... He was having a tough time forcing his lips to say the word. ...Vampires out here? She shook her head. In this corner of the city, no. But we are hardly the only threat that exists out here. I can hear the sirens every night. They do not tell the half of it. No doubt even as a Human you can feel the growing malevolence within the city? People are scared. Robbery and assault are merely the little bits of information your news services can comprehend. The vampire looked over at James' gun still laying in the grass. That will not provide you with much protection on your nightly walks. Wait...w...how... Nightly walks? Was she watching him? How did she know about that? Was she following him? This is my territory. I keep a close eye on it, she answered. So...on any other night, that...I mean...he, James began while pointing at the dead man,...you could have done that to me instead? How very wrong he was. Just an hour ago he could not help but think how safe his neighborhood was when compared to the rest of the city. Now it turns out he has been in the cross-hairs the entire time. I am very specific in the selection of my prey. Rest assured, I have little interest in your blood. Her lips curled into a smile again. With that she was on the move, walking past James and down the alleyway from which he came. Go home James. You look like you need your rest. She even knew his name!? Wait, James quickly called to her. Why was he your prey? Perhaps the criminal got what he deserved, but that logic may not mean anything to a Vampire. Figuring out why she chose him would be useful in trying to stay off her list of prey. He killed my dinner, she replied before disappearing into the shadows of the alley. James threw his raincoat onto the floor kicked off his boots. He looked to his clock. 2:57. His nighttime walks normally only lasted a half hour or so and he was back in bed. He walked over to his nightstand and returned his cell phone and gun to their place. He would sort out the events of the night tomorrow. For now, he was exhausted. There was just one more item to take care of before he could retire for the night. He reached over and grabbed the cord to his window curtains. He tugged them closed. Bed at long last. Safe at last. But despite his effort to block out the night, the sounds of sirens still bled through... |