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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1583937
A slayer finally meets her match and is forced to flee her home in order to escape him.
Every feature of him was defined, sharp. A pale face chiselled to perfection - gently curved chocolate brows lining colourless oval eyes, sleep heavy lain in the corners. The only flaw in perfection. Carefully coifed ebony hair, cuspidate at the tips were sculpted with gel until every spike lifted evenly from the roots. His nose was perfectly shaped and driven to a point in the centre of his face, the complexion even from bridge to tip and not a pigmentation visible to human eye; he was clearly beyond human. Heavenly rose lips peeled back over his crystal teeth as he smiled a crooked grin, revealing a pair of spotless prominent canines - fangs. Werewolf or vampire, he was perfect. His smooth shaven chin angled to a sharp finish, closing the boundary of perfection to hold forever in immortality - what everybody desired but could not possess.


I wished to be like him, such a statue of immeasurable beauty, but none would grace me with the bite of passion, able to end my current life to begin a new one, far superior to the former. My blood was poison to all, from werewolf to demon, and none would touch me, none would dare to come near. That was an advantage at least, to avenge my envy and lust - I was the greatest slayer in the history of the world, both mortal and immortal. None of their kind could bite me and live to forewarn the others. Unstoppable. I protected all mortals, lived to serve my race - a hero. My daily business was just that, skipping from town to town astride my powerful red Kawasaki at high speed to wherever I was needed worldwide, taking out those who threatened human existance.


But this guy? He was different - innocent. When I stared at him with the eyes of a hunter, a killer, I saw nothing - he held no ravage craving to tear the young woman's head off he held in his hands, nor a desire to satiate sick fantasies. I could only see the eyes of a passionate man, gently guiding a willing young woman into the darkened alleyway behind Dreevers bar. She was going to die...and I had to save her.


Slipping my black burgalers mask under my chin, I stalked off into the shadows, a small onyx tipped silver pocket knife clenched against my sweaty palm. Somebody was going to die tonight.


I edged closer, submerged in shadows, and peered around the mouth of the alleyway. He hadn't killed her yet; one hand secured around her throat, the other across her arms, he held her firmly against his body. He was enjoying every moment. My dagger glinted in the dazzling moonlight and compromised my position. I cursed under my breath and strode casually along the cobblestones to where he stood, a smug grin pasted on his flawless face. How could he do such a thing to a poor unsuspecting woman, the sadistic freak.


"Well, hello there." His velvet voice rang through me like ecstacy, smooth and seductive. He skilfully manoevred to conceal the woman in the shadows as I approached. "What's a delicate young lady like yourself, doing wandering these dark and dangerous alleyways by night?" I paused, examining his crazed expression - a sadistic grin and wild eyes blazing with lust and amusement. Would he really try to bite me? Was he truly that stupid?


I smiled, forgetting he couldn't actually see it. "Just stopping bloodthirsty leeches, much like yourself, from murdering innocent passers-by."


His rose lips curled back into a menacing snarl and I laughed nervously. Every sound in the world ceased at that one moment and he stared at me, confused, cocking his head to one side as he spoke. "Something the matter? Usually, a leech would have a dagger through his heart and head severed by now."


I hesitated - it just didn't feel right to kill him, the young woman seemed like more the monster than than he did. She was the one I'd rather kill. Something, and I'd never experienced such a sensation before, stopped me from killing him, stunted my savage desire. I was left physically and mentally unable to advance.


Realising I wasn't intending to stop him, the beautiful guy twisted his horrified victim back into my full view and smirked evilly. "Remove your mask and I won't make this horribly painful for her." I grimaced; decisions, an ultimatum. Slowly, I lifted my hands to my neck and hesitantly tugged my mask up over my head. I flinched uncomfortably as golden curls fell around my shoulders; I didn't dare meet his gaze.


A muffled yelp startled my eyes to flash to the young woman, agony and panic staining her expression as his lips held firm against the base of her jugular. Vampire, indefinately. Hearing the soft slurping and gulping of her draining blood knocked me sick and I felt light-headed.


I turned to run, it was too late to save her now, I had to save myself. The corpse slumped noisily to the dank cobblestones as I started to escape the scene - he was coming. A silent rush of wind alerted me to his tactics and I pivoted gracefully on my toes, sprinting back towards the poor young woman. The instant I felt another gust, I was pinned to the hard ground, my heart pounding against my chest and shoulder aching where he struck me.


He knew what I was from my knowledge of his tactics - he had to. I averted my eyes from his intense stare.


"Well, well, well. What have we here? A pretty little slayer who knows our moves? Very valuable...and interesting."


I stole a glance at him hovering above me and took a deep trembling breath as his crooked sadistic grin resurfaced. He tightened his grip on my throbbing shoulder and I urged to howl in agony, but I wouldn't give him the reaction he craved. I bit my lip and forced myself to ignore the pain - a strangled groan managed to escape my lips. I'd never manage it again, it caused too much internal ache. The image of that poor defenseless woman fuelled my solemn emotions and I sighed quietly as he released my shoulder.


I'd been lucky to have survived this long - slayers didn't tend to manage more than five generations to their families; I was the sixth - but I was going to die now.


"You're too beautiful and strong to just kill, so I guess I'll be keeping you, love."


I snarled menacingly to shield my sheer horror at his intentions and glared directly into his hypnotic eyes - a dangerous move, but he wouldn't kill me just yet. He chuckled once and pressed his cheek against mine, burning hot in comparison.


"I'll be back for you at one; until then, love." And he disappeared. Slowly, I pulled myself up and propped my weight behind me on my hands. I scanned the area - nothing. He'd gone, for now.


I panicked and sprinted as fast as my legs would carry me back to the sidewalk, where my red Kawasaki motorbike hovered eagarly against the curb. I didn't even pause as I leapt astride the seat and kicked it to life before the break had been removed. Hastily, I acellerated along the winding streets, speeding over five foot ledges and narrow ramps. I didn't slow down once until I was parked on the back of my silver Jeep Gladiator. I chose my transport for power, not appearance.


I bulleted to the front door - even here wasn't safe anymore. I wrenched a set of keys form my pocket and unlatched a large mechanism of locks with trembling haste. I had to get away from there, from the town, as far away from my collegues as I could - he was coming.


I didn't bother to lock the door as I dragged four large heavy duty duffel bags from my bedroom closet and set them prepared on the bed. I proceeded to pack, piling everything in an unorderly fashion into each of them. I was sure to make sure that I left just enough detail to suggest that I still lived there. And hopefully, just enough to stall him.


'I don't even know his name or what he wants with me, I wondered; what could I have possibly done to him? Nothing registered as I loaded my vast array of weapons into a single large storage chest - ninja stars, dangerous knives of all forms and countless makes of guns and ammo - I wasn't going down without a fight. I spread a single silver Beretta disassembled on the bed, alongside my onyx tipped silver knife.


Once all was packed and ready, I rushed the duffel bags down to the car and tossed them carelessly behind my bike. The weapons chest was next down and I positioned it carefully on the passenger side floor, just in case. I was almost ready to go. 12:45am - I'd have to hurry.


I bounded back up the staircase and dropped onto my knees beside my bed. Slipping the blade into my black cargo pocket, I swiftly assembled the Beretta. My hands blurred as they skilfully manoevred the metal into position; I'd never been taught to assemble a gun - it was just a logical thing for me. Slamming a fresh round of ammunition into the base, I slipped the gun into the holster attached to my thigh. Nothing could stop me now.


12:50am. I burst from my house and pulled the front door securely shut as I dove into the drivers seat. I pulled out of the driver and skidded along the winding street without so much as a final glance behind. Perhaps if I did, I would have noticed the large black rottweiler with crimson eyes that follow me as I left.
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