Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Metamorphosis: Genesis ❯ Chapter V ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter V

 

Forgetting the incident was proving more difficult than either Leelee or Alan had expected. In a few short days Alan was released from medical supervision and was allowed to return to the flat. This fact was greatly appreciated by Leelee who had gotten into the habit of sleeping with both her bedroom door locked and the guestroom barricaded with a chair from the kitchen. She knew not of her mysterious guest's behavior after she fell into the gentle embrace of sleep. Their encounters had been brief, limited, and uncomfortable for the young woman. Sano had the uncanny talent of ignoring all proper ideas and notions of personal space when conversing, drawing close to Leelee and more often than not causing her to shy back and become trapped between the back of the couch, the fridge, or the wall and the elusive Vampire.

Now a week since Alan had returned from the clinic and healed well of his minor cranial injuries, the two flatmates had manage to fall back into a somewhat normal function of their daily lives. From time to time, however, both Alan and Leelee would jump when a knock would come from the front door. They would share the same nervous look, especially when such knocks came in the evening. The same worried and ludicrous ideas running through their brains: Was the man back? Had he somehow survived that terrible fall from the window? Had one of his cohorts come for revenge? Or to finish what Chrisitan had started a week previously? No, they reasoned, relaxing as Alan would muster some courage and go to the door, opening it to reveal a friendly neighbor, the pizza delivery boy, or as the case was this evening, Mr. McArthur.

“You look like you've just seen a ghost, Alan, my boy,” The kindly old man said as he was welcomed into the apartment.

“Heh, sorry, sir. You startled us. We were…you know, watching a movie,” Alan explained but Mr. McArthur's aged blue eyes twinkled with knowledge despite the developing cataracts; he was not blind enough to not notice that the television was not on.

“That so, boy? Well, forgive this old man. I did not mean to come over so unannounced. You must think me terribly rude.”

“Oh, now! Its our pleasure, Mr. McArthur. I guess we've just been a bit jumpy ever since…well, the home intrusion,” Leelee interjected, hugging herself. Her brown eyes were apologetic to the storekeeper. She had confided in McArthur while Alan had been in the clinic recovering. She said nothing of Sano nor of the interaction or apparent familiarity between him and Christian, their attacker. She had needed to talk to someone about the intrusion and her frightening experience of being held at gun point by a lunatic in leather claiming to be a crusader for God. She now admitted to herself as Alan led Mr. McArthur to the kitchen table that her language had been a bit strong during her conversation with the devout Catholic grandfather. He had urged the both of them to seek solace in Mass at the cathedral three blocks away.

Alan had kindly laughed off the idea, thanking him for his suggestions for clarity but knew he would never again set foot in a godly establishment of any kind. He was gay, openly and unapologetically gay. What business had he in a Catholic church? None whatsoever in his opinion. Leelee, on the other hand, could indulge Mr. McArthur and accompany him to a Sunday service sometime. Alan didn't know what religion she carried with her but she displayed a kindness clichéd with Christianity. He'd never known her to cros herself as Catholics do, nor had he actually heard of her going to any kind of church service.

Alan shrugged off the idea. He knew that whatever religion Leelee practiced, if at all, was her business and that she would still go with Mr. McArthur should he ask.

“Tea or coffee?” Leelee asked, moving into the kitchen as Alan sat across the table from their placid guest.

“Oh, tea is fine, dear child. I won't keep you long,” Leelee nodded her head, smiling. She filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner. As she waited for the water to boil, she sat down beside Mr. McArthur.

“So , what can we do for you?” Alan asked, proppering his elbows up on the table casually.

“Well, initially I cam here to check up on the two of you. I know it must have been difficult for the past week after your encounter,” he said but his words seemed cautious as if each syllable was carefully measured and thought-out. A great deal of tact was placed in the usually sympathetic tone of the storekeeper. The kettle soon began to whistle and broke the lull in conversation that followed the unusual feeling of Mr. McArthur's words.

“But it seems you tow are getting along just fine since then,” he chuckled, a warm and hearty sound that so contradicted his previous persona and reminded both Alan and Leelee of a family part during Christmas holidays when the grandfather would spin tales of the days of old.

“It was really nice of you to come all the way here, Mr. McArthur,” Alan said as Leelee got up to retrieve the screaing tea kettle from the burner. She carefully turned off the heat and dropped three tea bags into three sturdy looking white mugs. As soon as the boiling water submerged the tea bags the soothing smell of chamomile filled the kitchen. Leelee smiled at the pleasant aroma, it was one of her favorite scents next to vanilla; both were such rich and calming smells.

“It was really nothing. It's only a few blocks out of my way, dears. Besides, I could use the exercise,” Mr. McArthur replied, patting his middle with a bit of mirth. Although he was old, he did not appear to posses the body of a decrepit old man. His face had wrinkles attesting to the decades of laughter and tears he had endured, but his physic seemed to be in exceptional physical shape for someone his age. Sometimes Alan wondered if the cane Mr. McArthur wobbled around on was only for show. He seemed perfectly capable of throwing away the walking stick and parading around on his own, proud like a rooster in a barnyard. That was silly though, Alan thought as Leelee dealt out the mugs of tea to the three of them. If Mr. McArthur could walk well without hunching and leaning heavily on his cane then certainly he would. There was no logical reason to pretend to be nearly crippled when your body was in good standings; unless, of course, it was Mr. McArthur's little joke on the world.

Alan chuckled lightly in his throat, bringing his mug to his lips and sipping tentatively from the hot amber liquid within. He had known the storekeeper for years and never once did he show himself to be a prankster of that level. His violet eye watched as Mr. McArthur took a heavier deep into his own mug, sighing contentedly as it soothed his old bones and spirit.

“Quite lovely, my dear,” he said while looking to Leelee. The young brunette smiled pleasantly but was quiet as Alan and their visitor began to engage one another in conversation, enthusiastically speaking of his clinical recovery and recounting the sometimes atrocious behavior of the nurses.

“You would not believe it, Mr. McArthur. All I wanted was a glass of water and the nurse on the floor just refused to get it. She said some tech would be along eventually…in the meantime I was dying of dehydration!” Alan gesticulated elaborately with his free hand and Mr. McArthur chuckled occasionally, watching Alan as he wove his tale of despair and recovery in the clinic. The old man engaged him with questions, adding comments of his own about the nurses from the war. He spoke of girls so lovely brought into such terrible places as a war hospital and how many a soldier fell desperately in love with their bedside mates.

“It was a different time, my boy. Love sprouted quickly then because you never knew exactly when your number would be up,” Mr. McArthur said in an almost regretful tone. Leelee listened quietly at the dialog between the shopkeeper and her roommate. Their voices drummed out into a humming and soon she found herself not understanding what they said, only watching their mouths move and the quiet murmuring that emerged from their lips. She became distracted by a singular distinct sound came to her ears; the sound of the guestroom door creaking open and scraping across the carpet as it swung to its full extent. Her eyes widened and she glanced quickly in a panic to Alan and Mr. McArthur who didn't seem to notice the sound. Had she imagined it? Had they simply not heard? The sound was like thunder in her ears but their voices seemed to be muted.

It was a moment before the shuffling of bare feet followed the sound of the opening door. Carefree strides rubbed into the carpet as the apartment's guest exited his room and glided across the main living room. Leelee, who had been in the middle of lifting her tea cup to her lips, dropped the glass vessel back onto the table causing it to clatter harshly as she saw the pale naked silhouette of Sano all but dancing through the living room as if to move to the window and glance out into the night filled street below.

“Child, what's wrong? You look white as a sheet!” Mr. McArthur said in concern and moved to look over his shoulder in the direction which Leelee focused on in sordid fascination.

“D-Don't--!” She gasped and grabbed onto the old man's wrist, drawing his attention back to the kitchen conversation. “Don't stop telling that story,” she said after clearing her throat and finding some excuse for her outburst. Alan frowned and looked to where Mr. McArthur had but saw nothing. He shrugged his shoulders and too back to his tea. The old man was a bit uncertain but began speaking again. Leelee's eyes saw past his form into the living room where she had seen Sano parading his uncovered self about. She kept her tea on the table where she would not disturb again for the rest of the night.

Again Sano moved into her line of sight, stopping in the middle of the moon-bathed living room. He stopped a moment and waved daintily to the stunned girl in the living room, sporting a proud looking smirk as her innocent cheeks filled with an embarrassed blush. The Vampire leaned forward shameless to pick up a magazine resting on the coffee table in front of the television. He opened it and flipped through the glossy pages without looking back up towards the kitchen.

“If you would just excuse me a moment…” Leelee mumbled and got up quickly from the kitchen table. Alan looked ready to ask for a reason of departure but Mr. McArthur held up his empty mug with hopefulness.

“Be a dear, boy, another for these old bones?” Alan smiled and nodded his head, taking the mug and getting up to put in another tea bag. He filled the kettle with more water from the tap before setting it on the burner to heat up once more. He sat himself back down beside Mr. McArthur and the two conversed placidly as they waited for the kettle to sing, proclaiming that the water within was boiling and ripe for tea-making.

All the while, Leelee and Sano engaged in a bit of step and dance, the former desperately trying to usher the latter back into the seclusion of the guest bedroom while Sano merrily enjoyed tormenting the young woman by shifting around her attempts and casually strolling his naked self about the living room, stopping for long moments in the moonlight where his pallid flesh illuminated. The brunette huffed and glanced nervously back to the kitchen where the sound of the screaming kettle could be heard echoing through the apartment shrilly. She watched as Alan stood up to retrieve the kettle, carefully picking it up at the handle and pouring its boiling contents into a mug for Mr. McArthur.

“Another, Leelee?” He called out without looking up into the unlit living room where she and Sano were.

“N-No thanks!” She called back with a bit of a squeak in her voice; she feared that should Alan look up and alert Mr. McArthur of the naked young man prancing through their living room and his death like white skin, they would have a great deal of explaining to do.

“Why wasn't I invited to tea time?” Sano asked, moving behind the girl and touching the side of her face with his hand. “That's quite rude, you know. I was your guest before that old man,” He added and Leelee spun around, but shielded her eyes half-way with a hand to rid herself of the temptation to engulf Sano's nude form with her young and eager eyes.

“For God's sake, please put on some clothes!” she hissed under her breath but Sano shoved her lightly in return, baring his sharp teeth at her.

“Careful with your word choice, sweet thing,” he warned, waving a scolding index finger at her. Leelee paused a moment, reflecting, before grinning devilishly. The look on her normally fearful and uncertain face made Sano uncomfortable for a moment before he put his hands on his hips in challenge. They stood a moment, staring one another down before Sano began to laugh, tossing his head back slightly. The lyrical sound carried through the dark living room and back to the kitchen.

“My goodness, Alan, what is that?” Mr. McArthur asked and turned around to peer into the unlit living room. Only moonlight filtered through the repaired window onto the carpet where it stood starkly against the shadows of the room. Alan shook his head at the sound of male laughter, frowning a little bit.

“That's a good question,” he said under his breath, setting the tea cup down before the neighborhood grocer, moving from the light of the kitchen to the darkened threshold of the living room.

“Leave the radio on or something, Lyrial?” Alan asked, raising his brows in a curious manner. He could only see two vague outlines of people in the living room but knew from the light of the kitchen, should they be looking his way, they could see the frown settled on his features and would hopefully behave themselves. “Come on, baby doll. Just don't worry about it. I'm sure it will eventually run out of battery power,” he added, continuing with the radio ploy to throw Mr. McArthur off his worry. Alan had only encountered the new roommate a few times. Sano was his name, if he recalled correctly. It was a name not heard every day, at least not in the United States. Maybe he was a foreigner; Alan recalled a delicate accent laced in the sparse words the apartment's new addition had given him during those brief encounters.

Sano had a very handsome face, Alan thought, and was well built. His hair and eyes were a spectacular shade of silver, something he had seen nothing of before. It seemed natural though…in an unnatural way, of course. His skin was also very, very pale, something he personally had strayed away from intentionally. Nothing could kill a mood faster than translucent flesh. Alan shuddered involuntarily and shook his head.

“I didn't think you young folks listened to the radio much, not with your computers and cell phones and all that extra nonsense,” Mr. McArthur noted, picking up his tea cup and sipping lightly from the rim. He sighed in delight as the warm amber fluid soothed his old bones once more. Alan looked over his shoulder and watched the old man drink his tea; there was something suspicious in those nearly blind blue eyes. Alan moved back to the table and sat down, resting his elbows on the table to support himself.

“I'm not much for the radio myself, Mr. McArthur, but it might be our new roommate,” he said casually. Mr. McArthur's eyes narrowed quickly at the standoffish bit of information that Alan passed so nonchalantly across the little kitchen table.

“A new roommate? There are others aside from Lyrial and yourself dwelling here?” there seemed to be utter shock and horror in the old man's voice. It was as if he had suddenly stumbled upon something of utmost importance—something that he should have known ages ago. Alan frowned a little at the reaction, not expecting such a sudden change in demeanor from his guest. The notion of Mr. McArthur being so deeply disturbed by the idea of he and Lyrial adding a roommate to the apartment in order to be able to afford the rent sat poorly with Alan. Were they not allowed to keep their home? Could they not find the most suitable way to cover rent? He and Lyrial needed more than hand outs from the cathedral a few blocks out of town. Since they had stopped attending mass, the charity had stopped as well. That was just fine with Alan; he hated going to the catholic masses which could last for hours if the priest became overzealous during the homily and then publicly embarrassed by having people he didn't even know offer him financial assistance because he and Lyrial were obviously incapable of sustaining themselves.

“Yeah, a new roommate. Rent is a bitch sometimes,” Alan mumbled and Mr. McArthur frowned at the profanity. Alan held his hands up briefly in apology but did not continue on the subject. It was clear that the neighborhood grocer was very unsettled by the idea of a new roommate as if he expected to be attacked suddenly from the stranger. Alan could still not fathom why the elderly man would be so devastated. Had he expected them to alert him of the new resident? He wasn't their landlord. Alan simply never felt inclined to inform Mr. McArthur of the new tenant—every detail of his and Lyrial's personal life was not up for discussion, even with their dear grandfather.

“They're talking about us, Lyrial,” Sano murmured through her hand. The look in his bright silver eyes was playful and mischievous. “The old man's on to us. Best come out and publically profess your inescapable attraction to me and admit to all the guilty pleasures we've indulged in for those countless, magical nights.” Lyrial huffed indignantly, her furious blush hidden in the darkness of the room.

“We'll do no such thing!” she whispered and pulled her hand from Sano's mouth. “Put some clothes on and behave yourself, please! Mr. McArthur is a kind, decent, old gentleman,” she added, defending the white haired man.

“I think he's a suspicious old bastard. Smells strange, too. Like candle wax and stone,” Sano commented with a grin as Lyrial turned to head back to the kitchen.

“He's a good man. Besides, I don't smell anything,” Lyrial replied.

“Psh. You wouldn't, girl. I'm just better equipped than you,” Sano said, tapping the side of nose gently.

“Please go back to your room and behave yourself until Mr. McArthur leaves. I don't want your naked self giving him a heart attack,” Lyrial said with a compassion most becoming. It was a sensitivity Sano was itching to upset.

“And if I refuse?” the misplaced Vampire cooed. “What if I don't want to hide and sulk out in that bedroom? I've been in there all day. What if I simply don't want to behave?” His questions were making Lyrial uncomfortable, so much in fact that she stopped her retreat to the kitchen and glanced over her shoulder in time enough to see Sano close the space between them, circling his arms around her waist and moving one hand up to cup his palm over her mouth, mimicking her behavior towards him earlier. Lyrial's brown eyes widened at the weirdly cold feeling of Sano's bare body pressing against her back. She had been held from behind by a man before; she remembered it being warm, comforting, and affectionate. On occasion, when Alan would come home drunk from a night out with friends of unmentionable sorts, he would hug onto her in such a manner, leaning on her smaller frame for support, his chin digging slightly into her shoulder as he rambled on about how dear of a friend she was to him.

Sano, however, was different. His chest was silent, no breath or heartbeat reverberating from behind his ribcage. His flesh was tepid and unnerving in its resignation from life and heat. Lyrial wiggled relentlessly to escape from the uncomfortable hold but the inhuman strength that Sano possessed kept her quiet and against him.

“Shh…watch,” He whispered against her ear, allowing his breath to tickle the side of the girl's face. Lyrial shivered and shook her head in response but he persisted.

“It's getting late, my boy,” Mr. McArthur said remorsefully, as if finally recovering from the unexpected shock of there being a third resident in the apartment. “I won't keep you any longer,” He added and set down his half-empty tea cup on the table's worn surface. Alan got up to help Mr. McArthur out of the kitchen and to the front door where his cane had been left upon entering. Sano stepped backwards, further out of the moonlight from the window and up against the wall of the living room so that he and Lyrial were completely engulfed by shadow. Mr. McArthur stared at the corner of the room, trying to peer into the impenetrable dark. Alan cleared his throat, opening the front door for the old man.

“I'll let Lyrial know you had to go. Don't worry, Mr. McArthur. She's had a lot going on recently. She'll be fine though,” The braided young man said off handedly as Mr. McArthur finally gathered his hat, coat, and cane and walked limply out of the apartment.

“Be safe my boy, and please, let me know if the two of you require anything,” He said, looking over his shoulder but never stopping.

“Will do,” Alan said with a tired smile before shutting the door. He slid the chain lock in place and sighed heavily, leaning his back against the wood. “I thought he'd never leave,” He added and chuckled in a broken way. “Lyrial?” He asked and pushed off the door, moving to the kitchen and putting up the mugs.

“Lyrial? Come on, girl, where'd you go?” He asked and walked into the living room, groping at the wall in attempts to find the switch. When his fingers hooked onto the plastic piece jutting from the plaster, he flipped the switch up but it clicked blankly, no lights coming on.

“Oh come on,” he groaned, flicking the switch up and down impatiently. “Lyrial! This isn't funny anymore. First you leave me all alone with that old geezer, and you know how much he hates me, and now you've messed up the lights. Come on, that isn't like you,” Alan said impatiently, his violet eyes frowning as he continued to play with the switch. With a grunt of defeat he waved off the useless light switch and walked in the dark towards his bedroom. He moved right past the silent figure of Sano who held a fitful Lyrial in his grasp. A wicked grin passed over the Vampire's face as the other occupant of the flat moved unknowingly past their position and retreated to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“He's right, you know. That is nothing like you,” Sano said, finally moving his hand from Lyrial's mouth and allowing the girl to dance out of his grasp. She shivered and hugged herself, rubbing her arms up and down quickly to generate some kind of heat.

“What's your problem? Put some clothes on! And don't go around hugging onto people when you're naked! I don't know where you've been where they find that acceptable, but here it's just creepy,” She said, flustered. In an odd way she had enjoyed being held by the strange silver haired young man; it was something dangerous, being the arms of a predator; it was something taboo, the nude embrace of an unknown man, especially one of the undead. Lyrial shook her head, dismissing any and all thoughts of enjoyment from her harrowing experience with the Vampire. She refused to be one of those cliché girls in horror/romance novels that fell in love with beasts and found their “human” side. Lyrial was no fool—Sano was a predator and there was nothing human about him, despite how human he appeared. No, she wouldn't be caught like that.

“So feisty,” Sano replied, sticking his tongue out in a childish manner. “Fine. I'll dress. However, I refuse to allow you to go to bed,” he said and Lyrial stopped walking. Her intent was to go to bed now and forget about the weird encounter and the near embarrassment of Mr. McArthur discovering that they had a deviant living with Alan and her.

“I'm tired, Sano. I'm going to bed. You can stay up all you want as long as you don't cause trouble, but I'm going to bed,” Lyrial said, restating herself intentionally as if to emphasize her mortal need for rest. The vindictive and challenging grin settled on Sano's handsome features caused Lyrial's insides to turn to ice. A quiet and ominous sounding growl came from his direction, but even in the dark of the unlit living room, the brunette was well-aware that the impatient gurgling sound was not coming from the Vampire's throat but from his stomach. Panic raced through Lyrial's system and her heart quickened its pace, becoming a noticeable thumping in her own ears.

“Sano,” She said carefully, moving backward towards her room, glancing briefly over her shoulder. The door was shut, but not locked she knew. Looking back at the nude silver haired young man she estimated that if she sprinted suddenly, she could make it to the door, wrench it open and then lock it behind her before Sano had a chance to silence the rumbles of his abdomen. Sano's smile widened and his large fangs poked rudely over his bottom lip. They seemed longer to Lyrial than they had been just moments before. The fierce ivory had extended at the thought of feeding!

In a moment of premonition, Sano sprang forward towards the helpless girl. Lyrial reacted in the only way she could, stumbling backwards at a pace too quick to maintain, a tragic escape plan that caused her feet to tangle with one another and send her plummeting towards the carpeted floor. With an uncomfortable thud, Lyrial hit the living room floor and skidded slightly against the carpet on her rear, before falling back completely. Before she could even blink, Sano was there, pinning her shoulders to the neutral hued carpet, bearing his weight upon her to keep her trapped between himself and the floor. Lyrial's eyes widened and she struggled as best she could, fighting the unbelievable inhuman strength of the hungry Vampire, panicking as her efforts were made clear to be in vain.

When her feeble attempts to escape registered as pointless, Lyrial did the next sound thing that came to her fear hazed mind.

“Alan! Alan!” She screamed, flailing furiously in attempts to at least dislodge Sano from his offensive hold. The Vampire hissed, baring his fangs to the girl in warning before he clapped his hand over her mouth. Hot tears were gathering in the corners of Lyrial's gentle brown eyes, her chest rising and falling at the rapid pace conducive of a panic attack. She felt as if her heart would crack her ribs in its dreaded state and leap from her chest.

“If you don't calm down, little one, you'll pass out. I'm sure you don't want to be left unconscious and so vulnerable around me,” Sano said in a mocking tone, continuing to show off his impressive fangs to his captive. Lyrial thrashed her head from side to side, the hot tears slipping down the sides of her face as her skin turned pink from the stress. Muffled gasping sounds came from her throat as she struggled to even out breathing, taking in sharp swallows of air from behind Sano's hand. Her head felt hazy and her face hot as the adrenaline in her system continued to grow and traumatize her racing pulse.

Sano now only had one hand on her right shoulder but the incredible force his light frame produced was astounding. The more Lyrial struggled and thrashed about, the more exhausted and feeble her attempts grew. Had Alan not heard her shouting for him? He had only disappeared into his room not fifteen minutes previous. Surly he was not changed, in bed, and fast asleep in so short a time expanse. It then dawned upon Lyrial that Alan had the habit of putting in his headsets and allowing the lulling rock of his music to put him in a more susceptible state of rest. By now Alan's music was filling his head and drowning out her cries for help and the unmistakable sound of struggle coming from the living room, not ten feet from his bedroom door. Lyrial cursed her roommates sleeping habits, turning her tear glistening eyes towards Alan's door with harsh betrayal in their usually warm oaken orbs.

“Shh, shh…there, there.” The words attempted to soothe but through the haze of worry and panic, they did little but to incite new fear.

“That's a good girl. Just relax.” Again the lucid voice broke through the barrage of labored breath and frightened whimpers.

“This will only take a few minutes,” Sano cooed into the young woman's ear, resting his cheek against her own. The hot tears wetted his flesh and the mix of hot and cold caused a strange sensation in the Vampire. He lingered, nuzzling his cheek against Lyrial's pink, panicked face. A satisfied purr began to rumble in his chest, drowning out the occasional whine of his stomach which still demanded to be satisfied. The brunette's eyes flicked up to Sano's face as curiosity passed over his features while experiencing the feel of her living warmth. It was as if he wanted to hold onto the warmth, pretending to possess it; as if he never wanted to let go of her, bathing in the living heat which radiated from her terrified form and seeped into his cold carcass, penetrating to the bone.

The silver haired guest adjusted himself to straddle Lyrial's waist, holding her left arm above her head while lifting the other upwards. With her mouth now free, she whispered in quick quiet bursts of mercy-seeking.

“Please! Please, what are you doing? D-Don't do anything brash!” On the verge of tears once more, Lyrial closed her eyes awaiting whatever fate the Vampire had in store for her. The growling of his stomach returned to her ears once more and she whimpered, allowing the tears of alarm to slip out from under her eyelids and coat her heated cheeks in a new layer of saline. Another soothing coo came from the Vampire and again Lyrial felt his breath against the side of her face as he pressed his cheek to hers, absorbing the warmth from her flushed visage.

“I won't hurt you, Lyrial. I would never hurt you,” the silky voice urged in her ear and the captive girl restrained herself from laughing in disbelief. He was completely naked, holding her down forcefully to her living room floor, baring his fangs at her with his stomach growling…but oh, he wasn't going to hurt her. Well they certainly weren't skipping through meadows together.

“Please don't kill me,” Lyrial whispered, keeping her eyes tightly shut. Here she had survived the gun wielding lunatic, Christian, only to be taken down by the very creature he had been trying to destroy in the first place! Briefly, Lyrial wondered if she should have allowed Christian to take Sano away—to have killed him. Perhaps if she had then she wouldn't be in the state she was in now, terrified, pulse raging, and close to death once more. Ever since finding Sano in the alley that fateful day, Lyrial and Alan's lives had been turned upside down. She blamed herself for the stupid act of Samaritan charity. She should have called the police that day; she should have called an ambulance and let the proper authorities deal with Sano's injuries and his unique appetite.

Proper authorities? What was she thinking? Sano was a Vampire, a creature clearly not of this world. She doubted if there even were proper authorities, equipped and prepared to deal with supernatural beings that somehow came from horror stories and entered the real world. Lyrial fancied herself insane—completely deranged. She had brought a stranger into her home without knowing who or what he was and allowed him to stay. When a man capable of removing him came, she dismissed the notion and allowed Sano to stay. She had watched Sano murder Christian, pushing him out the apartment's window. She had seen his mangled body on the night's concrete and witnessed the blood pool from Christian's cracked skull onto the sidewalk. Lyrial had also seen how upon morning the body and all traces of the accident had disappeared, as if by magic or some darker force.

Lyrial had possessed such a quiet life, something now she missed terribly. All these strange incidences were too much for someone of her nature, sensitive, quiet, reasonable, and logical. She couldn't comprehend things defying physics and the very laws of nature. At some point a fortnight ago she had gone completely insane and her life had started to unravel around her. Now she lay at the mercy of the beast himself. With her eyes tightly shut, she waited for those powerful looking fangs to do their duty as seen in so many horror films, ripping into the flesh of her throat and spilling her precious life blood all across the apartment floor, decorating Sano's pale naked body in a ghastly collage.

The idea of being torn apart by a hungry creature was not exactly appealing, but Lyrial found the longer she was held in suspense, pinned beneath Sano's weight, the more impatient she became. She was not one for mind games and soon her panic turned to fury.

“If you're going to eat me, just do it! I'm sick of waiting to die!” She cried suddenly, opening her defiant brown eyes to gaze up at her captive. However, the sight that met her was nothing she had expected. She regretted her words instantly as she watched the Vampire examine her wrist, brushing his surprisingly soft lips against the tender flesh on the underside of her arm.

“Impatient, are we? I'm not going to eat you, Lyrial. Just a taste,” Sano explained and pressed a chaste kiss against the beating pulse of her wrist. “I told you I wouldn't hurt you, Lyrial. I wasn't lying. Like you, I need nourishment. If I don't feed, I will die. It's as simple as that.” The way he spoke was neither forceful nor sarcastic; it was matter-of-fact and suggested logic and sound mind. The brunette blinked owlishly, stunned and surprised but still very uncomfortable.

“Feed?” She asked, as if it had been the only word that had registered with her whirling mind. The silver haired Vampire nodded his head gently, dragging his large fangs against the flesh of her wrist, leaving scratches in their wake. Lyrial's face contorted in discomfort and her brows furrowed. It then made sense; he was going to feed off of her! Was that not the same thing as killing her? As eating her? Did Vampires have some kind of caste system involved with their food? Was she not worth killing? Lyrial hoped so. She hoped she would be nothing but a temporary midnight snack this time and never be dined off of again.

“Just relax and leave it to me,” Sano said in a tone meant to be assuring but it did anything but for the girl whose wrist he was examining like a fine piece of meat. Lyrial's breath came out in short bouts of anxiousness, closing her eyes tightly to hide the animal like appearance of her strange houseguest from her brain. Not seeing him descend upon her wrist, mouth open, was a small comfort and curse; it was like looking away when a nurse brought you a shot—you knew it was coming, you knew it would hurt when the hyperemic needle would transverse your skin, but for some reason not knowing exactly when the puncture would take place a was a relief; out of sight, out of mind.

However, like the unexpected kiss of a nurse's unseen needle, the moment Lyrial felt the tips of Sano's oral ivory break the tender flesh of her wrist, she cried out and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. Pained pools of tears were pressed from the corner of her eyes, slipping down the curve of her cheeks, gravity pulling them towards the haloed mess of curly hair against the floor. The tears disappeared into the chestnut forest as the girl thrashed her head from side to side, trying to deny the sharp pain in her captive wrist. She felt a strange suction against the puncture wound and became acutely aware of the meaning of the sensation. A sense of weakness overtook Lyrial as Sano took his first swallow of blood. It was a strange feeling, losing blood. The actual extraction didn't hurt but the two burning holes in her vein did.

Lyrial's struggling wore down with each mouthful Sano took from her. Her heartbeat peaked in its terrified race before beginning to slow down as the necessary fluid started to thin out. Her breaths became shallow, digging for the energy being stolen from her prone form. Sano held onto the back of her hand with tenderness unbecoming of such a feral ritual. His other arm rested against Lyrial's collarbone, keeping her against the living room floor, though he no longer required to press down with the same force as before. Three, four, five mouthfuls and the amount of pressure exerted down on Lyrial's collarbone lessened. The young woman found herself slipping in and out of her senses. She felt very cold and tired. Her eyes started to fall shut, the lids suddenly too heavy to support.

“Close them and they close forever, doll.” Sano's voice registered blearily in Lyrial's mind and she was coaxed into consciousness by the silver haired Vampire shaking her shoulders abruptly. The vision of Sano languidly lapping at the small wound on her wrist came swimming into view when her eyes opened and began to focus in the dark living room. The sound of the phone ringing registered as well, faintly at first, but then bellowing in Lyrial's ears; the high pitched tone coming from across the flat. One ring, two, three, four, five, six…the recording clicked on and Lyrial and Alan's voices drifted in to fill the absence of ringing.

“Hey, you've reached Alan and Lyrial. Neither of us managed to get up off our lazy asses in time to answer the phone—sorry!—so leave your name, number and a quick message—you only have thirty seconds!—and we'll get back to you if we remember to.” A beep followed and for a moment there was silence. Then a hesitant woman's voice came on.

“Lyrial? It's…me again. I know I called last week…but I didn't hear back from you,” it took a moment for the dizzy brunette to realize who was leaving the message before her eyes widened. She had never called Kaya back that time and the guilt twisted in her belly, distracting her from the sick display Sano made of cleaning her wrist. She barely noticed that the two distinct puncture holes closed up as the Vampire's tongue ran over them and left only two barely noticeable scars in their wake.

“It is still all right that I come visit soon, right?” There was hopefulness in Kaya's voice; a thin hope that seemed sustained by some unseen and temperamental force that could give out at any moment without notice. “My number has changed again,” she admitted and read out the new number at which she could be reached. There was another long pause before the voice spoke up one final time.

“I heard about the break in at your apartment. Are you all right? Be careful, Lyrial, there's—“ the message recorder clicked off, the time allotted for the message had expired. The young woman frowned at the tone in Kaya's voice before her telephone rude cut the other girl off. Before she could think further on it, she felt herself being lifted up off of the ground. Her feet, however, never touched the carpet. The next thing she knew, she was cradled in two very strong arms. Sano shook his head, walking Lyrial towards her room. She would not be able to stand for a few hours and it was late by mortal standards. He watched as her eye lids fell closed.

“Sleep, Lyrial,” he said, moving into her bedroom and setting her on the mattress. He pulled back the blankets and slid her frame beneath the covers. The Vampire sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the mess of curls that framed her face.

“What are you?” he asked, expecting no reply from the sleeping girl. Instead he hoped something in her face would elude her apparent secret. He touched his lips curiously and a frown settled over his well-groomed brows. “No human's blood makes my mouth tingle like that. What's your secret, little one?” He paused laughing quietly to himself he ran a hand through his silver bangs.

“Or do you even know?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Metamorphosis: Genesis