Chapter 28 - Duality

"They say that number thirteen, Quent Street, is haunted by a five thousand year old spirit of an Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh. He was murdered on that very spot, right underneath the basement. Before that, I've heard that his parents were devoured by demons. People say he was reborn, a goth of seventeen years of age. Now, they say he's a vampire. People hear screams and catch glimpses of murders. He lives alone, and never comes out. He gets his food from his victims and sleeps in a coffin. They even say he can transform into a bat or wolf, or even grow wings. He doesn't go to school, doesn't have any family or friends, just him and the wandering spirits of his meals...No one has ever entered that house since it was built..." the girl finishes her story and her friends gasp in awe.

I step away from the window, hissing through my teeth. The sunlight no longer sizzles my skin. I've become immune to it after stalking my prey for so long. I hate it when they spread rumours about me. It may be true, but I don't want people bursting into my house and dragging me away to laboratories. Nor do I want police arresting me for my blood lust. Nobody will believe those kids anyway.Those pathetic humans still think demons, vampires and werewolves are a myth. I have experienced them myself, and chose to join them. If anyone took me away, they'd say I was mentally ill.

I sigh and look around the room. There's no wallpaper, just cold, hard, bricks. No carpet, just wooden floorboards. I grabbed this place and moved in just before they could finish it. The builders? Sucked them dry of that crimson lifeline. This place was already furnished. Luckily enough, it was set to be a gothic museum. All I did was releave some ungrateful human soul of his coffin. I have everything I need here. I keep it clean and tidy -vampires are proud creatures- and keep myself to myself. I don't see why I'm such a bother to them. Humans take everything for granted!

I have a basement full of bats. They're wonderful creatures. They help me devour my prey and despose of the bodies. I keep myself busy by playing with them, reading, writing and sketching. According to the humans, I'm spending too much time alone. I don't need them! They won't understand me. I'm not alone anyway; I have my bats and arachnids. I have a large collection of spiders that I enjoy studying. I can socialise with my bats, if I wish. After all, I can become one of them.

I yawn and stretch, ruffling my hair. I've gotten into the habbit of not sleeping much. Humans are getting up later and going to bed earlier. That makes them hard to get hold of. The stairs creek as I stagger lazily down them. Two hour's sleep. I must be trying for a record! I stumble into the kitchen and flick a switch on the stereo on the dining table. Ah, a favourite song: Good Charlotte - 'Murder'. I sniff and pull my boxers up slightly. That's all I wear when I'm being lazy or sleeping. I reach into a cupboard, pull out two slices of bread and drop them into the toaster. As I wait for my breakfast, I grab a knife, butter and a saucer and place them on the counter.

I sit at the table and sleepily sip at a glass of fresh blood, nibbling my toast in between. I hear a quivering postman push a newspaper through the letterbox. I groan. "Leave me alone," I growl, getting up and going to pick it up. When I returned to my seat, 'I Just Wanna Live was playing'. "I just wanna live!" the stereo sang.
"Why live when you can be immortal like me?" I muttered, observing the newspaper with disgust. "Why do you humans have to tell each other about everything? You can't do a bloody thing without them publishing it and translating it into every language so the whole flipping world knows!"

I toss it into the bin and finnish my breakfast. The stairs creek again as I jog up to my bedroom. I place my clothes out on my bed and tak a quick shower in the en suite bathroom. I trudge back into the room and pull my clothes on. I'm wearing a black shirt, black trousers, a spiky dog collar, big gothic boots and black eyeliner. I go back down, change the disk to Slipknot and skip to 'Duality'. I turn the volume up. No nieghbours. They're too scared.

I grab my guitar. Slamming out the tune, like a heavy metal star on stage. I pretend I am. I close my eyes. The crowds are screaming at me to carry on. I drop onto the floor, roll onto my back and lift my guitar up high, still playing. The crowds are reaching for me. I leap onto the table, pretend it's an amplifier. Suddenly trip. Lose my balance. Fall flat on the floor. Slipknot are the only ones who scream at me. The guitar makes my gut pang. I lie on the floor, weeping like a child. I don't have family or friends to support me. My dreams are as good as dead. I never had a proper childhood, just thrown onto a throne and expected to rule a country.

Humans did this. They destroyed everyone I knew.

I. Hate. Humans.

My eyes flicker open. I groan and pull myself up. I must have fallen asleep. It's been three hours since I fell over. I hear cildren's voices.
"I dare you to knock on the door," one says.
"Fine," the other agrees.
I hear shaky footsteps as the kid approaches my front door. I silently wait behind it, ready to pounce. It knocks. Once. Twice. Three times. I shove the door open. The children scream. I grasp the human, that knocked, by the neck. I hold her up. The shrieks and struggles. Her friend has run away. My wings grow from my shoulderblades. My fangs lengthen. I hiss at her. Her screams begin to alert the rest of her clan. I quickly throw her inside and slam the door.

"Don't hurt me!" the female yelps as I glide over. She gasps as I grab her hand. There is a cut on her palm. It bleeds. I lean in and lick it. She tenses up. I narrow my eyes. Spit it out in disgust. "Your blood is sour," I grunt. "Your family is cursed."
I shove her hand back at her and she looks up at me, still shaking. "W-What will you do to me?"
I shoot her a glare, then turn away to think.

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment