Last, is medicine. I start to head for the aisle dedicated to pain meds, but the sound of crunching glass has me ducking behind a shelf. My heart begins to race, but I clench my hands into fists and dig my nails into my palms, letting the pain center me. It’s a technique I picked up once I started posing as a vampire.
I ducked before I got a chance to see if it’s a vampire or a werewolf. Both options are equally bad. If it’s a vampire, their heightened hearing and speed are going to make sneaking out of here damn near impossible. If it’s one of the werewolves, that means there are more of them right around the corner. I slowly pull the knife I keep fixed in my belt and use the soundof chip bags being rummaged through to cover the sound of me putting my pack down. As the creature slowly makes its way to the back of the store, I creep along in the opposite direction.
I only make it a couple of steps before I stop, freezing in a squat-like stance. The security mirror in the corner not only allows me to see that it’s a vampire who has entered, but it also showsme. If the vampire had noticed, I’d already be dead by now. I take a small step back, watching my reflection and decide it’s too much of a risk. My movements stand out like a sore thumb against the empty store.
With each passing second, the vampire draws closer. It won’t be long before he sees me.
Think, Fallon. Think.
I spot a row of flour to my left, and an idea instantly sparks. It’s not the best plan, but it’s the only one I have, and right now, I’m running out of time. The vampire works its way closer to my aisle, not bothering to be quiet, and I watch his reflection in the mirror, using it to time my cuts into the bags of flour with the sound of his movements. My morning breakfast threatens to make its way back up when I see the larvae moving around in the expired flour. I’ve grown used to the bones of the deceased, but I still have a weak stomach when it comes to the bugs.
By the time I have two bags cut open, the vampire is only a couple steps away from the end of my aisle. The only way this is going to work is if I act first and catch him off guard. My instinct is to hide or run, but I’ve thought it out, and both of those options end in a sure death. At least with a surprise attack, there’s a sliver of hope I make it out alive.
As soon as I see the vampire’s foot come into view, I reach for the bags and toss the flour into his face with as much force as Ican muster. Both of us are immediately hit with an explosion of the white powder-like ingredient.
Evidently, I didn’t account for the flour to obscure my vision too. A lesson learned if I make it out of this thing alive.
Angry grunts and hisses spew from the vampire while he tries to make sense of what is happening. Flour seeps into my eyes, burning them as I fight to keep them open. The seconds it takes for me to dig my hunting knife deep into his chest seem to pass by fast and slow all at the same time. Shock coats his face, along with a thick layer of flour as he slumps to the ground.
I quickly pull my knife from his chest and brush the bugs off of me before rushing over to grab my pack. Three of my perfume bottles are still filled with blood back at one of my hiding places, but I have two and a half empty ones with me.
There’s no time to waste, so I quickly cut the vampires wrist and replenish my supply of blood perfume. I wouldn’t say I enjoy the kills, but I can’t deny there’s a feeling of satisfaction, knowing I’ve taken down a monster who is superior to me in every way. Besides, it’s not like they have any empathy for us.
As the bottles fill with the vampire’s blood, I realize it’s like ink. All of the vampires I’ve killed have had blood similar to that of a human, but this one’s is thicker. I place the half-filled perfume bottle on the floor and roll up the vampire’s sleeve to find black veins crawling up its forearm.
Weird.
I’m still assessing the odd veins when they begin to bulge, letting me know my time has run out. I step away and shove the bottles back into my pack as the golden light breaks through the veins like cracks in a window. His face is the last to beam with the bright light before his entire body bursts into ash, settling into a pile among the white powder. If there’s one thing I like better about the vampires, it’s that their deaths area lot less messy. Even though I’ve never killed a wolf myself, I’ve seen the aftermath, and it’s anything but pretty.
Somehow, on my way out, I remember to grab the medicine. After a quick glance around, I start for the forest, noticing the wolves are no longer in sight. Personally, I would rather have eyes on them, but there’s slight relief knowing they might’ve moved on. By the time I make it to the treeline, a storm has erupted. Normally, I would duck for cover, but I welcome the natural shower, allowing it to cleanse me of the spoiled flour that has coated my hair and face. I throw my head back and close my eyes as the water pelts my skin clean.
Once I’m satisfied, I trudge along, deeper into the forest, heading toward one of my hiding places so that I can drop off some of the stuff currently weighing my pack down.
As I arrive at the tree, holding my belongings, the rain finally begins to let up. At the base of the tree is a hollowed out area concealed by raised roots. I kneel down and pull out the small pack that only has a couple of items in it. I keep what I need for the next couple of days and empty the rest into the small pack, storing it back in its hiding place.
Just as I’m standing back up, I’m hit so hard that my vision goes dark. It feels like I’m being dragged behind a car as my back goes skidding across the forest floor, raked by twigs and roots. The moment my body comes to a stop, I’m immediately pinned down. Pain radiates throughout my body while violent pulsating fills my head. As my vision fights to return, golden-white irises hover only inches away. A scar marks the wolf’s left eye, making it appear that much more terrifying.
Time feels as though it has stopped, and I wonder if that is what happens right before death. The blurred edges of my vision finally clear, and as I stare up at the beast towering over me, I’m sure that death is what’s coming next.
Razor-sharp teeth snap in front of my face, teasing my inevitable end. The werewolf throws its head back, releasing a howl that could be heard for miles. My ears are still ringing from the sound when it refocuses its attention on me. Once again, I’m face-to-face with the monster waiting to tear the flesh from my bones. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale what I’m sure will be my final breath. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long. I knew my time would come, and it seems it has.
My whole life, I’ve wanted to live. No matter how terrible the foster homes got, how terrifying the streets were, or how dangerous this new world became, I still wanted to live. But right now, in this moment, I feel a sense of peace knowing the end is near. A wave of exhaustion covers me like a blanket, and it’s as if my soul knows the fight for survival is almost over. All traces of fear seem to vanish as I wait for the jaws of death to claim me, but they never do. Instead, I feel the wolf’s wet snout graze my hairline before letting out another howl. Unlike the last one, this howl is followed by an echo of surrounding ones.
When I open my eyes, the black beast is staring down at me once again. Both of us glare at one another for a long moment before it finally backs away. Two of the other werewolves shift into their human form and lift me off the muddy ground. I’m still trying to process what is happening when the black wolf takes off into the forest, leaving me with the others. Those still in their wolf form threaten me with low growls before the other two begin dragging me through the forest.
“What are you doing?” I demand, attempting to pull my arms free. “Let me go!”
They stop walking and turn to each other. I wait for them to say something, but instead, a silent conversation passes between the two, and their mouths curve into wicked grins. My heart drops into my stomach when they turn their attentionback to me. I barely have a chance to try and fight them off before a strong arm wraps around my neck. I attempt to kick my feet, but my legs are quickly pinned down by the other werewolf.
Between the two of them, I don’t stand a chance. As the air in my lungs becomes scarce, blackness crawls around the edges of my vision once again. My consciousness begins to drift further away with each passing second. Eventually, my eyelids flutter shut, and as they do, I hear the faint sound of what I think is dark laughter before I’m pulled into a sea ofnight.
Thane
It had been years since I’d been on a hunt, but not long enough to forget what a human smelled like. After all, I had spent over 300 years living among them.
Still, something about this human was different. Her pulse remained steady as she stared back at me with a fierceness of her own. And her scent… she was human no doubt, but there was something else to it. Something I can’t seem to put my finger on.
How had a girl who weighs no more than 120 pounds made it this long in a world run by vampires and werewolves? Did she have help? And if so, where were they in her time of need?
