Wither: Made The Way He Was
by Quortoth
Made The Way He Was
There’s an abandoned Motel, dilapidated. She doesn’t know where it is, why she sees it, just that she recognizes it. There’s a point to that place, some reason it’s in the dream.
Some reason that this blue themed dirty, practically door less place was there. Some reason it was there this two story waste. Why?
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A little red haired girl walked into the living room, going down the stairs. She looked around, “Mommy?” There was a broken lamp on the floor, and bloody foot prints.
“MOMMY!!” screamed the little girl. She saw her mommy on the floor in puddle of blood. Her eyes wide open.
The little girl didn’t understand, she knew something was wrong though. Whatever that was. It was bad, bad, bad, bad. “Ramona, help me,” moaned the mother her long wavy red hair covered in the blood from the wound to the skull she had received.
“Mommy!!” screamed Ramona, she went over to her mommy. She didn’t know what to do, “What’s wrong?!” tears were going down the small child’s eyes. She was screaming and crying, she got her little feet in the blood and blood got on her hands as she went to her mommy and hugged her.
Her mother laid out on her back, turned, she couldn’t move. Ramona’s momma looked up at the ceiling, blank. No thoughts of her pleading daughter.
“MOMMY! MOMMY!!” she screamed repeatedly.
Her mommy closed her eyes. Ramona started to hit her chest, “MOMMY wake, up,” hit, like she was angry, like mommy wouldn’t get up in the morning. Tears stung the poor little girls eyes as she hit her, hugging her, “Mommy, wake up!! Why won’t you wake up.”
The little girl just kept letting out yells and screams. Blood getting all over her cute clothes. Her mommy in her small arms.
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That building is important. For some reason, something is in it. Where is that building, where have I seen that building before?
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Ramona, teenager knelt on the carpet of her living room crying, and screaming like that child. She thought she was holding her mother. She brought her hands up and looked at them, she saw the blood. The blood all over her blue shirt. Her pajama pants.
Blood from the mother that was right there, the blood on the white carpet that wasn’t there anymore. Blood in her long wavy hair. Suddenly she looked up.
Cillian stood outside in the sunshine. That’s not right. Cillian standing out there, the sun not doing a thing to him. He looked from it and back down to her, his hands in his pockets, “What’s wrong with this?”
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~ April 27, 2004
Ramona woke up suddenly. She was gasping, sweat going down her forehead. All that was a bad dream. She sat up looking around herself, her pajamas drenched in sweat. Ramona swallowed, knew where she was.
She looked over to her alarm clock. It wasn’t making a single sound, the number 3:12 red in the darkness. Ramona stood up and went towards the bathroom.
The bathroom was small and white. Bright. The lights in there hurt her eyes, she closed the door and locked it then went to the mirror. She was wearing that blue T-shirt with the Lucky Charms slogan and a rainbow and that leprechaun on it, and her pajama pants.
No blood on her whatsoever. She looked at her long wavy hair, just that red way it always was. No blood, not her mothers, not anyone’s.
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Fisher was taking one of his dead fish out of his fish tank. He was using the green little net, he took it into the bathroom and pulled up the toilet seat. He put the gold fish into the toilet water, then he put the net at her side and pressed the flush mechanism.
The water went down. Fisher saluted the fish and said, “Everyone loved you Fisher Jr. I most of all people will never forget you.”
The toilet burial was commenced. He heard Ramona come in through the front doors of the insurance office. Fisher stepped out of the bathroom closing the door quickly, “Why good afternoon.”
“You seem down,” she replied.
“Nope, nope,” he said in denial, “I’m completely fine.”
“Another one of your Fish die?” asked Ramona. Fisher gave her ‘a look.’ “Fine, touchy subject,” Ramona put her hands up innocently sitting down in the chair in front of the desk.
“Now that we’ve moved on past that, I made some coffee if you’d like some,” answered Fisher sitting down behind his computer the chess board up. He was going to play someone over the internet.
“Wow, loss really does change a man,” said Ramona sarcastically. Fisher gave her, ‘that look’ again. Ramona looked down, the mood would become serious. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“What?” asked Fisher suddenly turning his full attention to his slayer.
“I’ve been having, dreams, again,” answered Ramona.
“What do you mean, dreams, during the day dreams?”
“No, night time,” she assured looking out towards the desk.
“What about?” asked Fisher folding his hands and putting them on the desk.
Ramona took a moment then spoke, “My dead mother.”
“Do you think it has something to do with slayers, or not?”
“Well there’s more to it. I see this building that I recognize, look up, see Cillian standing in the sun,” explained Ramona. “What’s it about?”
“I’m not a psychiatrist Ramona,” assured Fisher.
“I know.”
“Have you considered that these dreams just may be normal dreams?” cautioned Fisher sitting back in his chair.
“Considered it a lot, but they keep happening, and the same-”
“I do know the mind works in many ways to deal with being traumatized, if anything fear,” he said.
“What would I be afraid of?” asked Ramona, “She’s already dead.”
“But Cillian, that could be fear,” he looked like he was thinking about it.
“Sure you’re not one of those quack psychiatrists?” questioned Ramona finally looking at him.
“Very sure,” sighed Fisher.
“What am I afraid of, Cillian, doing, whatever?”
They were quiet for a long moment. Fisher spoke again: “Walking in the day. Maybe becoming invincible, being that the day wouldn’t be destroying him. It wasn’t destroying him right?”
“No it wasn’t,” answered Ramona, “He said, ‘What’s wrong with this?’”
“Fear is all I can really think of.”
“What’s that building have to do with anything?” questioned Ramona.
“You said you recognized it.”
“Yeah, feel like I see it often. But of course, I just can’t place where,” she answered.
“Do you get a feeling you know where it’s at?”
“I have a feeling it’s around here,” she explained. “Some random, old, abandoned Motel. With a lot of blue, missing doors, looks like a place that druggies would live in. 2 floors.”
“I’ll look it up,” assured Fisher, “You should just go on with regular routines, and if the dreams become any different, tell me.”
“I don’t want those dreams, I’ve blocked out that stuff for a reason.”
“I can’t help you there,” assured Fisher
“I understand,” she sighed looking down at the desk.
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Night came again. Ramona ran through a cemetery, running for something, or away. Interesting thought.
Ramona jumped grave stones as she went. Wherever she was going it was in a hurry. Most definitely a hurry.
Three vamps were running away from her, doing like her. Jumping over graves, going around trees.
Ramona jumped up over a mausoleum and ran over the top. She flipped off the edge and landed on the one of the vamps. The vamp was slammed to the ground. She grabbed out her stake quickly and staked him before the vamp behind her could grab her by her coat.
The female vamp threw her against a tree. Ramona hit her head, almost tasting the bark, but she kept going. She rolled forward. She did a hand stand and kicked the female one against the wall of the mausoleum. She landed on her feet.
Anther male vamp came up behind her. He went to punch her in the back. Ramona grabbed his arm and flipped him. He landed on the ground and flipped back up onto his feet.
Ramona kicked him in the chest. He grabbed her leg and twisted it. She hit the ground hard and threw her leg from him. He went with her leg and landed on the ground hard. Ramona flipped up and on top of him. She used her stake to punch him.
The female was getting away. Ramona took off for her with great speed. The female looked back to see how close Ramona was and she tripped over a gave breaking it. Ramona jumped over the vamp and threw the stake down to finalize the deal.
The vamp grabbed her arm and twisted the stake from it quickly. Then she flipped back up onto her feet. The vamp went to kick Ramona. Ramona dodged the blow and punched her across the face. The vamp tried to punch back.
Ramona grabbed her arm and snapped it behind her arm. She threw the vamp against a tree and kicked her in the back of the head. Ramona grabbed her stake back up.
Tried to stake the woman again. The vamp hit the stake from her arm as it came at her. Ramona then shot another stake from her sleeve and stabbed it into the demon’s heart. The woman turned to dust right there.
Ramona backed up, taking deep breaths. Feeling the work. Tired aching muscles. She picked up her stake and put it in her pocket.
Patrol was over for the night, time to go home, do the needed. Ramona went towards the entrance of the cemetery to leave. She pulled her new bike out of the bushes and got on it heading down the side walk towards the road.
There was a black van sitting at the sidewalk, someone inside. Someone inside watching Ramona.
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‘What’s wrong with this?’ was the last thing Ramona heard in her dream world. Last thing she saw, Cillian asking her that question.
Ramona laid in her bed looking up at the ceiling, sweating from the other half of her dream. Everything was the same. She looked over to the clock by her bed, time to leave for school.
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As she took her regular walk to school she reflected in her head, sometimes out loud to herself, considering since no one was watching her. No one would think she’s crazy, probably already did.
She was tired, slayage, plus bad dreams, those are two unmix-y things. Ramona wasn’t afraid of Cillian, but then again she was. And willing to admit it.
“Yeah, I’m afraid,” she sighed to herself, “He’s killed 4 slayers. Wants to kill me, hasn’t been exactly straining himself when we fight.”
“Why would this matter to me?” questioned Ramona to herself, “I don’t have to worry about Cillian till he comes back to town. If he every comes back to town.
She watched the sidewalk, watched the cracks as she walked down the sidewalk, “They can just deal with him, those other slayers. The better trained Slayers, big shot ones that do not know anything what so ever about working alone. Cause well, that’s what I’m doing-
Ramona’s attention was diverted, “-working…a…alone.”
There had been a noise. Ramona turned around, something in the alley way moved. Tripped something. She watched it, couldn’t see it. But of course she had a general idea where it went. “Like watching me?” she questioned.
No answer. Ramona shot off down the Alley after whatever it was, hearing it run from her. She ran down the alley jumping garbage cans, whatever is threw down in front of her. It was some man. Ramona followed it.
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The abandoned Motel stood there in it’s glory. If it had any glory. Ramona turned towards the place. Hadn’t ever scene it in her entire life, but in those dreams. She knew that.
Whatever she had been chasing had stopped running, in fact it was nowhere in sight, so it could be running. She went towards the front of the building, looking at the sign, vacancies part of the light had long ago died she guessed. Ramona looked into the check in place.
No one there. The place was quiet. Ugly kind of quiet.
Ramona backed up to get a better look at the place. As she was walking under the second floor balcony/walkway there was a yell and a nightstand was thrown over the side of the walk way and down to her floor. Ramona got out of the way.
The nightstand hit the ground braking. The man in there kept yelling, things were being broken inside that room. Ramona went towards the stairs, kept quiet. Didn’t want him to know she was there, he was probably dangerous.
Glass was broken things thrown around. The man yelling like an angry mad man. She went towards the door and the yelling stopped. Ramona stopped. There was no door on that room. That’s how the nightstand got out.
Ramona slowly, stealthily went up to the door way. She heard someone walking around in there. They didn’t walk like they were angry, it was more like a pacing kind of walking. She went to the doorway.
The tall man thin and muscular of armed stood still, looking towards her. She stepped towards him. Was he the one that ran from her.
This man had to be at least 6’3”, white of skin. He had very handsome bright blue eyes. His black hair was wavy, kind of long and dirty, didn‘t reach his shoulders. He had facial hair, hardly more than stubble. This man stood before her shirtless, scratches over his chest, bloody hand prints on his jeans. At least the man had shoes, boots.
“Cillian?” questioned Ramona, confused.
Slowly Cillian cocked his head to the side, “Lady Red, long time no see.”
“What are you doing here?” demanded Ramona. “Where you following me?”
He took a bow, “Was going to kill the slayer.” He stood up straight, “Think a vampire could do that.”
“Then something has changed,” she asked sarcastically.
“Can’t kill you now,” spoke Cillian plainly.
“Why?”
“Not strong enough,” he growled looking at her in a deadly manner. Not like she died of course. He hit himself in the chest, “That annoying thumping.” He took in a hissing breath, “All of it says I can’t.”
“What thumping?’ questioned Ramona stepping towards him one step.
Cillian backed up one, “Well, what do you think?” She stepped towards him another step, he didn’t back up that time. Ramona just wanted to stop moving, watching him.
“Thumping?” she questioned out loud. She looked at his wrists, cuts, scabbed, dried blood going up his arms just a little. Ramona looked at her confused, “Why would you slit your wrists?”
He went towards her quickly, stepping towards her, making her step back, he growled at her: “Come on Lady Red, you’re a smart girl. Figure it.” Suddenly Cillian put his hand past her, forward into the beam of light coming through the doorway. Ramona watched.
Nothing happened to his hand as the sun touched it, he looked down at the Ramona. He looked to his hand quickly, “What’s wrong with this?”
She looked up into his eyes confused, he was towering over her, she swallowed, “Why….Why are you human?”
“You think, you know, can‘t hide, you think I‘m human?” trembled Cillian angrily. Slowly he put his right hand over his heart running his fingers on the scratch wounds. “I tried to cut it out. That annoying thumping.”
“You tried to take your life-”
Cillian looked at her hurt, “Well I sure don’t want it!”
Ramona didn’t know what to think, “How?” she just couldn’t believe this, even the fact she was talking with him. Why was she talking with him, why was he human. What’s wrong with all this?
Cillian folded his arms across his chest, shrugged his shoulders. He turned from her leaning against the wall at the end of the room, he slid down it and sat in the corner.
She just looked down at the floor. Her enemy, the man that was going to kill her. The man that had made a game out of killing her kind, humans and slayers a like. Sitting in a corner almost in tears. Didn‘t know if he‘d cry. Her enemy right there, and she was talking to him.
“Why haven’t you killed me? Weakened, human . Why?” Cillian looked at her.
“I don’t kill humans,” she answered, like she was hurt, angry, and confused. She wasn’t though, except for the confused part.
“What does that change?” he questioned looking off towards the blue wall on his right, holding his arms on his knees now, “Murderer. Was when I was human. I’m evil.” He held his arms out, “Out in the open for you, perfect kill.”
Ramona was quiet for a long moment. A very long moment. He let his arms drop slowly, hitting his head up against the wall once, like he wanted to hurt himself. She spoke:
“Doesn’t mean anything.”
He stood up slowly, “Then lets call it the death penalty Sweet.” Cillian stepped forward angrily, “Earned it, I’m bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad man.” That last part was spoken like from the mouth of a crazy man.
She actually chose to say this: “You want to die when you’ve been given another chance?”
“I’m dead!!” roared Cillian.
“How did this happen?” asked Ramona still in shock from the beginning of the conversation.
Cillian started pacing, she watched him go back and forth, “Why should I tell you?” he demanded quickly.
“I have to know.”
“No you don’t.”
“This is slayer business now,” explained Ramona.
“Oh, now the slayers run a business, mail each other pretty fruit cakes,” replied Cillian. He growled like he was fed up with himself, “Of course they can’t lift such a fruitcake.” Cillian looked over to her, “Do you know if those come in varieties, weight of the world and all.”
He yelled suddenly hitting himself in the head with his hand, He punched the nearest wall. Ramona pushed him down on the ground so he wouldn’t try to punch the wall again. The dust from the drywall stung the gashes in his knuckles from punching stuff.
Cillian started laughing, “I can’t control it.” He said, “Not what I say,” he backed up on his hands backing up into the wall, “Fruitcakes have nothing to do with that weight of the world laying on your pretties shoulders.”
“How, what were you doing?” demanded Ramona.
Cillian stood up, “Feeding on a poor young blonde Lass. Then Bam!! I start feeling that heartbeat we all so enjoy and start puking that poor dead girl’s blood up!” His nostrils flared with anger, “My senses have changed, they’re so low.”
He put his hands over his ears breathing angrily. “You don’t know?” she asked him as he was backing up, “Who did this?”
“Already told you that!!” he roared.
“Shut up, alright, just shut up,” she demanded. Cillian got quiet, looking at her. Ramona just looked at him, hated him, wanted to help him. Didn’t want to help him, “This is wrong.” Cillian just looked at her.
“I need help,” He said hitting his head, a low thump, against the wall.
Ramona stood there watching him. She didn’t want to feel his sadness. He was human, humans have to live, work, play, eat, drink, water at least. He could do that on his own.
She turned towards the door. Ramona looked back at him then back outside. He kept to himself, mumbling against the wall. She left.
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That black van sat parked on the side of the road. It was night, and it sat parked down the street from Ramona’s house. Inside was an older aged man with computers, etc. in the back. He was sitting in his black leather chair at one of his computers printing something.
Out of the printer came papers with information on them about Ramona. Pictures. The man looked over to his bulletin board. The board had pictures of Ramona doing the things she did during the day.
Pictures of her with Katie, at the club, her in Fisher’s office. Her going towards that motel. Many pictures.
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Fisher was fixing a cup of tea for himself. He smelled the peppermint and pulled away, he turned around. Fisher gasped in shock, he dropped the cup. Cillian standing before him.
Cillian was wet from the rain, shirtless. It was night out and raining. Fisher swallowed, quickly backing away against the counter.
“I need help,” growled Cillian.
The scared British man scooted quickly away from him towards his desk. He pulled a stake out, Cillian suddenly grabbed him by the arms and pushed him down, “Don’t try it, you’ll only be stabbing human flesh,” growled Cillian.
Fisher scooted back against the bookshelf. “What do you mean?” growled Fisher. “I don’t help vampires.”
“Lady Red didn’t tell you anything,” hissed Cillian, “Doesn’t say anything. To her watcher, to her watcher, poor man, can’t get a job. Can’t prevail, train and train and they still keep secrets.”
“What did she not tell me?” growled Fisher.
“Got that thump back,” he looked at his hands, flexed his fingers, “Got that mortality back. Bad, bad, bad-”
“Mortality, you’re lying,” stated Fisher, gruffly.
“No, see, I’m the king of lies. But the kingdom doesn’t want me, takes it, twists it to truth and then hands it over for the crispy burner, tarnished-”
“You’re too fast to be human-”
“No, you’re just too slow!” hissed Cillian. Cillian winced, closed his eyes tight, let out a fed up low breath, “They pick you for reasons, I was in good shape, hardly opened the package-”
“What?”
“Sired, hardly old, youth, fast!!”
Fisher started laughing. Cillian looked at him quickly like the guy was crazy, or that he was just angry at the guy. Fisher calmed down a bit considering that it all wasn’t that funny, he looked at the poor wet man seriously, “You’re getting a taste of you own medicine.
Cillian just looked at him as he continued, “Human soul, human body, all this brought onto you so fast that it hurts. Especially that soul, it hurts.”
“SHUT UP!!” roared Cillian in his deep voice.
“You want me to help you get turned back into a vampire?”
“I want to know what did this!!!” sneered Cillian, he looked down disgustedly then back at Fisher, “And kill it.”
Fisher stood up and Cillian stepped back one step feeling threatened. Fisher spoke: “You don’t think I’d want to protect that smart individual?”
“Don’t want to help that way I see. Then kill me, I don’t need this world, I’ve heard of the death penalty-”
“Why don’t you just go into the police and tell them everything you’ve ever done,” suggested Fisher, he felt like he had the upper hand and everything now.
“They’d think I was mad!” growled Cillian, he turned away, “No more questions! I don’t want them, I want what I was, help me!”
Suddenly Fisher hit Cillian over the head with a book. Cillian went down on the ground, he went to get back up and Fisher hit him again, knocking him unconscious.
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That Motel was gone, it had left Ramona’s dream. Then there was a burning building. There was a some little girl screaming, and the sound of glass breaking.
Ramona felt like she was there, like the first of the three story building was touching her. It burned her skin though she wasn’t physically anywhere, just seeing it.
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A little red haired girl walked into the living room, going down the stairs. She looked around, “Mommy?” There was a broken lamp on the floor, and bloody foot prints.
“MOMMY!!” screamed the little girl. She saw her mommy on the floor in puddle of blood. Her eyes wide open.
The little girl didn’t understand, she knew something was wrong though. Whatever that was. It was bad, bad, bad, bad. “Ramona, help me,” moaned the mother her long wavy red hair covered in the blood from the wound to the skull she had received.
“Mommy!!” screamed Ramona, she went over to her mommy. She didn’t know what to do, “What’s wrong?!” tears were going down the small child’s eyes. She was screaming and crying, she got her little feet in the blood and blood got on her hands as she went to her mommy and hugged her.
Her mother laid out on her back, turned, she couldn’t move. Ramona’s momma looked up at the ceiling, blank. No thoughts of her pleading daughter.
“MOMMY! MOMMY!!” she screamed repeatedly.
Her mommy closed her eyes. Ramona started to hit her chest, “MOMMY wake, up,” hit, like she was angry, like mommy wouldn’t get up in the morning. Tears stung the poor little girls eyes as she hit her, hugging her, “Mommy, wake up!! Why won’t you wake up.”
The little girl just kept letting out yells and screams. Blood getting all over her cute clothes. Her mommy in her small arms.
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Ramona woke suddenly gasping like she always did recently. Why the burning house, why? She felt the sweat on her clothes, hated the sweat. Her heart throbbed against her skull.
She looked at the clock next to the bed. It had the numbers 3:54 on it. Was P.M. cause the light of day was shinning in through her windows, through her peach colored drapes. Ramona sat up and went towards the bathroom like every time she woke up.
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Cillian woke up slowly, dazed, confused. His head was throbbing like a hang over, his vision was odd. Cloudy, slowly his vision began to clear as he sat there. Sat there?
He moved his arms slowly, going nowhere. Looked down at his wrist. He was tied in a chair. Cillian pulled at the thick ropes but they were tied tight. Untying himself would take longer.
The toilet in the bathroom of the lone insurance office flushed and Fisher came out, looking to Cillian. Cillian, looking at him like an angry wild animal. Pulling at the ropes.
“I see you woke up,” stated Fisher.
“Untie me.”
“No,” replied Fisher.
“You think you’ve got the upper hand watcher, hardly, you think…hardly,” he said, slowly.
“I don’t believe I offended to your sly remarks about me being stupid,” Fisher said, calm, plain, letting nothing get to him.
“Going to question me?” spat Cillian resting his arms, under the ropes they were red from the pulling.
“Maybe.”
“I have nothing answer,” hissed Cillian, “Nothing to state! I’m a victim.”
“I see you’re thinking more clearly then you were earlier,” sighed Fisher going over to get himself a cup of coffee.
Cillian was quiet for a long moment. They were both quiet. Fisher went over to his office chair behind the computer with his cup of coffee in hand. Keep awake, day was coming, Cillian could probably untie himself. Fisher took a drink of his coffee, Cillian looked at his ropes, then Fisher.
He swallowed, watching the watcher, “I’m not stupid, just a little crazy, I’ll get over it presumably. Lass. But thinking you have the upper hand is just going to turn the tables, and you’ll be the one turning the tables on yourself.
Fisher didn’t reply, “I take it you can understand.”
“Then thinking you have the upper hand, wouldn’t you be turning the tables on yourself?”
“Didn’t say I thought I had the upper hand,” he sneered. “Humans don’t usually grasp that idea.”
“Oh, I grasp it quite well,” stated Fisher putting down his cup of coffee.
Cillian watched it. He looked back at Fisher’s face. “Do you grasp betrayal?”
“Betrayal?”
“Yes, betrayal. Betrayal, fighting amongst the clan is weakness. Learned that when I was eating the Nazis, etc.,” stated Cillian, “Learned a lot about the tower of maturities, the tower of loyalties.”
“Where are you trying to lead me? If you don’t tell me soon, I’m just going to gag you,” answered Fisher.
“Ramona, had-”
“She hasn’t betrayed me.”
“Standards, standards,” stated Cillian.
“I don’t give a shit about your bleeding standards,” assured Fisher. Cillian looked at him for a long moment waiting, or not waiting, just being there. Fisher continued: “Ramona didn’t say anything, she didn’t betray me.”
“You’re angry,” stated Cillian, “I can tell.”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m not falling for any of your tricks.”
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“Are you feeling alright?” questioned Mark watching Ramona eat, “Kind of missed school, with the whole, sleeping like the dead thing.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked.
“Tried,” stated Mark, he lifted up his sleeve, “Hit me real hard in the arm then rolled over.” There was a huge bruise there, bad one, Ramona looked away she didn’t want to see it or she’d spit out her fruit loops, “You kind of looked sick.”
“Oh, sorry about that,” stated Ramona.
Mark shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing I haven’t gotten in a bar fight, except that was by several men.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Ramona said in a sarcastically distasteful way.
Mark shrugged his shoulders again, “You’re really short, no one will believe you anyway.”
Ramona looked at her serial. Why was she eating breakfast food in the afternoon?
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Fisher wanted to go to sleep, the light of day didn’t help the drowsiness he’d been experiencing since morning, since anytime. Fisher read in his books, thought twice about just locking that staring freak into the bathroom. Let him talk in there.
Cillian hadn’t spoken. He just watched Fisher, “Is this, watching me treatment supposed to somehow phase me?”
A smile slipped up on Cillian’s face, “I don’t figure. But of course, I’ve always been a rather curious subject.” Fisher just looked at him. Went back to his book after a long moment, “What are you reading?”
Fisher looked up. “When your slayer comes, are you going to scold her-”
“Don’t finish that,” replied Fisher, expecting something dirty to come afterwards, like any being of filth such as Cillian.
“I was finished.”
Fisher took a breath, long sigh. He went back to reading the book. Cillian watched him, kept talking, “It’s sad really…A slayer, keeping secrets from the one man she, should, be trusting. One person that knows, everything about them. Hmm….But you haven’t known her all that long have you?
Cillian waited for a reply didn’t happen. Fisher turned a page in his book, Cillian went on, “Good to know that she’s mean, one the more afflicted slayers.”
“What’s that mean?” questioned Fisher.
He laughed towards Fisher, then answered, “In my time of killing I’ve realized that a slayer that has had the visions more than others tend to last longer. Rare ones.”
Fisher went back to his books. Cillian cleared his throat, “I know more then it seems,” Fisher ignored him. Cillian got quiet for a long moment.
“I don’t take it you’re hearing voices anymore.”
“Do you care?”
“Just answer,” groaned Fisher.
“I hear them, hard to distinguish the two, realities. I have to also take into consideration, I think I could play with you,” stated Cillian, “Make you one of my games, minds in my hands.”
“You really do have a big ego,” stated Fisher closing his book.
“What…are…you…reading?” clarified Cillian.
The door into the office opened. Fisher looked to the door. Cillian smiled. Ramona stopped in her steps at that doorway.
She practically held her breath as she stood there. Seeing Cillian tied into a chair shirtless, dirty, the same she left him. Ramona looked from Cillian to Fisher’s eyes, “Fisher.”
Fisher stood up, “Go into the bathroom.”
Cillian looked down at his feet. Closing his eyes, he giggled a little. Ramona went towards the bathroom. Fisher followed.
Ramona turned towards Fisher as he closed the door in the bathroom, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ramona just looked at him. “Why?”
She swallowed, “Didn’t think it mattered.”
“Didn’t think it mattered?!” he demanded, “Do have any idea what’s going on?”
“Do you?”
“He came to me for help,” stated Fisher.
“Why?”
“You should have told me, this is rare, this is-”
“A freaking miracle, so what,” answered Ramona, “He’s evil. Doesn’t matter, just leave him alone.”
“Why are you jerking you responsibilities as a slayer?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” groaned Fisher folding his arms together, giving her his mad/serious look.
“Let him live like everyone else does, work-”
“Normal human beings Ramona, they commit suicide too. This is, different, I don’t want to say amazing,” he began again.
“Then don’t.”
“Everything happens for a reason, alright. He gets turned human, it was done for a reason, something out there, eight wants him to suffer, or it wants him to have a second chance.”
“He could have asked me for help,” hissed Ramona.
“You should have brought him to me.”
“Well I didn’t.”
Fisher shook his head, “Is this because of your dreams, your mother?” Ramona went towards the door angrily, she went. “Don’t go.”
Ramona went out of the room. Fisher followed right behind, stopping, with her. The ropes had been untied, Cillian was gone. The door closing behind him.
She shot to the chair, grabbed the ropes and took off after Cillian.
----------------------------------
Cillian took off running down the street passing people. Shooting through the walking pedestrians. He knocked a couple down.
Ramona followed, passing the people. She knocked down a couple, telling them sorry quickly. With all her might, she sped up and went after him faster.
He turned a corner and ran down an alley way, quickly he climbed the fence, he jumped over the other side. Fell to the ground, he pushed himself up as he heard her push herself up over the top of the fence.
Ramona landed on all fours. She ran at the running Cillian. She quickly grabbed him and slammed him down on the ground.
The throwing down was painful. He rolled over on his back. Got back up on his feet. Ramona went to kick him in the face.
Cillian had grabbed something and slammed her across the face with it. Ramona went against the nearest brick wall, blood dripping down from her busted bottom lip. He gripped the piece of wood tightly, “Give me my death penalty Lassie. Give it.”
Ramona wiped the blood off her lip. She went at Cillian. He went to swipe her in the head with the boards. She ducked back and flipped kicking him in the face. He hit the wall behind him.
He rolled off the trash bin under him and landed on the ground, coughing. His face bled. Ramona grabbed him by the hair, “You’re not going to run.”
“Big words for a little woman,” growled Cillian.
Ramona pushed his face down against the concrete, “You’re not going to run. You’re coming with me. Fisher will see what made you this way. So, you’re not going to run?”
Blood dripped down from Cillian nose, it hit the concrete. He winced, “I…won’t…run.”
----------------------------------
The lights of the house were all off. Night. Ramona’s dad’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway, and there’s no way to tell if Mark was home. But he wouldn’t bother them, probably.
Ramona took out her house key and opened up the locks, she stepped in over the threshold and went to close the door thinking Cillian had come in. His face was cleaned up, lip busted, scratch on his nose, nothing big, “Well,” she said quietly.
“I need-” he stopped himself, he walked in, “Force of habit.”
Ramona closed the door and locked it behind them. Cillian looked around at the dark place. Ramona went to the coat closet and came out with a sleeping bag. “Upstairs,” she replied to Cillian who stood there watching her.
Cillian followed her up the stairs and to her room. They got to the top of the stairs someone flipped the hall light on suddenly. “Well, well, well,” stated her brother walking towards her, “Someone’s up real late, aren’t they?”
“What do you want?” questioned Ramona.
Mark saw Cillian and was confused, “The man that broke my arm.”
Cillian looked down at Mark, “You’re a rather small man, hmmm…” he smiled.
“He has nowhere to go,” hissed Ramona, “Now go to your room and go back to play your X-box or sleep I don’t care.”
“Dad didn’t say you could let him in the house, dad didn’t say you could have anything to do with him,” hissed Mark.
“I don’t care, and you know nothing of what I do, at night-”
“Any reason I should know. Didn’t you two try and fight to the death in the living room, and now you’re going to throw a slumber party?” Mark explained.
“Yeah, that’s why I brought the sleeping bag, now go to bed,” ordered Ramona.
Mark looked at Cillian angrily. A sly smile appeared on Cillian’s face, he started to make a disgusting heavy breathing sound. Mark quickly went at him.
Ramona pushed her brother down, She punched Cillian across the face. Cillian hit the side of the wall, he laughed. “Can’t take a joke Lady Red?”
Mark got up quickly and was going to go at Cillian, Cillian went at him. Punched him in the face. Ramona pushed him down on her bedroom floor, “Stop this alright, both of you. There isn’t going to be any fighting. Mark GO TO BED!!”
“I’d be threatening him now,” laughed Cillian standing back up, “Give him a little warnin’.” Mark was breathing hard, watching Cillian, angry. “Be warnin’ him, that sometimes I tend to loose control and beat people to death.”
“Mark,” growled Ramona.
Ramona backed up into the room watching her brother. Cillian was standing in there. Ramona closed the door and locked it, “What the hell do you think you were doing?!”
Cillian just looked at her. Plainly, blankly. “Answer me,” she persisted angrily.
“Playing a game,” he said in that emotionless tone.
“Why do you talk that way?!” she growled, “This isn’t funny, none of it. You’re my enemy.”
“Obvious Trojan horse,” he stated.
“No Trojan horses about it-”
“That’s why it’s obvious. You’ve invited me, the enemy in,” he replied softly.
“Are you trying to get me to kill you?” questioned Ramona, confused.
“If anyone will, I want it to be you, now,” he folded his arms across, his chest and thought about it, “Unless someone else makes a better offer.”
“You mean getting you turned back into a vampire-”
“Why would they turn me, now days they don’t pick right. I was picked for my speed, strength, senses, anger, especially my anger. They wouldn’t pick me, because I’m right for the job,” stated Cillian hurting a bit. The soul made him feel guilty even for saying that.
“I’m not going to kill you, so stop acting the way you do.”
Cillian looked down at her. Ramona turned toward the spot across the room and rolled out the sleeping bag, “Here, somewhere to-”
“Can’t go to sleep,” he shook his head no.
“Why not? Isn’t sleep what manic depressives do?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“You have insomnia?” questioned Ramona.
“Haven’t slept,” stated Cillian.
Ramona didn’t trust him one bit. She wanted him gone, wondered why she brought him there. Why was she going to help. But something of a slayer was in her that made her want, for lack of words, want to help. He sat down in that spot, that corner where the sleeping bag was.
Cillian sat there shirtless. Ramona looked at him, “I’ll get you another shirt.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re distracting.”
Ramona unlocked the door and was back in no time with another shirt. White button up shirt. She threw it towards him and closed the door. Locked it. She sat down on the bed.
Cillian put the shirt on, for some reason even though his vision was great, he knew what he was doing, he kind of didn’t and buttoned the shirt of up wrong. “Planning to watch each other all night?”
“If it’s what it takes,” she stated.
“Slayers and their jobs,” hissed Cillian.
----------------------------------
The night was going, it seemed slowly. Ramona watched him. He watched Ramona. Watching thing. Ramona looked down every now and again.
“You’re getting tired,” he said, plainly.
“Why aren’t you?”
Cillian shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his boots, on his feet still. Ramona held back a yawn. He laid his head against the drywall.
“Why do you hate the idea of being human?”
He looked up at her, didn’t like the lavender colored wall much really. Sat there for a moment then replied, “Immortality is beautiful.”
“You kill people.”
“Not about the killing,” he moaned, didn’t want to talk. “But completely.” Ramona looked at him confused, “Having control.”
“Where did you get your ego?”
“Not being defeated, that’s where.”
“Well you’ve been defeated,” she stated plainly.
“But you’ve been defeated by my kind, millions of times.” She looked at him a little more confused. Cillian looked at her, “Someone of your kind has to get knocked off for another, or at lest it did back in the day. But not now of course. Never now.
He growled at himself closing his eyes tight, remembered those that he’d killed. “Wasting away in my own juices, it’s what you wanted.”
“Tell me, why have I been defeated by so many?”
Cillian put his hands over his ears, “For my kind, it just takes one of us to make hundreds. It’d be kind of boring, they’d probably not be too bright of dark offspring, but I can guarantee you, they’d make more, then they’d make more. So on and so forth.”
“Doesn’t mean I was defeated.”
“You’ll never be able to stop my kind.”
“Well, you’re human now,” hissed Ramona.
Cillian turned back to the inside of the corner, leaning against it. “Why can’t you go to sleep?” He had a reason.
“Because, you’re a murderer-”
“For god’s sake, just go away,” he stated bluntly wiping his eyes, “I want to hallucinate without you!”
Ramona was quiet for a long moment. She looked at him, really looked at him. He was sad, eyes were wet. Cillian made faces actually like he was in pain. He was one shot away probably from shaking.
“Do you promise you won’t try and kill me in my sleep?” Cillian looked up at her, “I don’t want you around if you’ll try and kill me in my sleep. If I think you will, I’m kicking you out, you can live this world on your own, not sleeping, whatever. Not doing anything till you die. I don’t care.”
He took a deep breath, swallowed, “Say you’re doing the right thing, but you’d completely sacrifice me.” He paused, “I wouldn’t kill you in your sleep unless you could fight in it.”
“You want an epic battle,” Ramona understood.
“When I’ve killed, the victims have always had a chance to struggle, fight back, they just choose not to,” he sighed, sadness rising in him, “I tend to pick the unpredictable ones.”
“You’re sick.”
“I know,” he hissed.
“Don’t touch me, my brother, my father,” she spoke confidentially.
Ramona didn’t feel safe around him, she made sure her bedroom door was locked. She went into the bathroom. Came out in her pajamas and stake in hand. She put it under her pillow, watching him. He was scratching his throat, the hair was sharp, stubble, black, not a single gray, youth.
Cillian sat there looking at her. “Don’t watch me the whole night, or I won’t be able to sleep,” she stated.
“Why have a stake for the unstakeable?” questioned Cillian.
“If you try anything I’ll stab you somewhere,” she laid her head down on the pillow, “Somewhere where you won’t die, but it’ll hurt like hell.”
“I already gave you my word,” he clarified.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still evil.”
----------------------------------
“He’s staying at your house, human?” questioned Katie, very enthusiastic about the situation, they were sitting at a table outside the lunchroom.
“Yeah,” stated Ramona.
“So, uh, is he cool?” asked Katie.
“Katie, this guy isn’t just some random single you pick up at a club. Cillian is a mass murderer.”
“Oh, I know the story, I was just wondering-”
“Well don’t.”
“What’s he like though?” questioned Katie, “Ooh, can I come over.”
“No,” Ramona said plainly.
“Please.”
“No, you’re going to go to my house and stay there, etc. No, coming over to see him,” replied Ramona.
Katie took a bit of her sandwich, “It’s kind of weird, how, he’s human, you know?”
“I know it’s weird,” sighed Ramona, She stirred her mash potatoes. “I hate his guts completely, I fear him, but I have to keep him safe, stuff like that.” She swallowed, “He’s weird himself.”
“What do you mean?” questioned Katie.
“Stayed up the entire night. He’s probably been awake longer than that. But he was watching me the entire night. I’m worried he’s going to start doing something,” said Ramona. “But he said he wasn’t going to.”
“Probably will.”
Ramona looked at her milk, “He tried to kill himself. And he’s crazy. Said weird things, started humming last night to himself. Of course, it’s either the soul making him crazy or, well, the insomnia.”
“Why won’t he sleep?” asked Katie.
“I don’t know, same reason I won’t, bad dreams,” replied Ramona, maybe a theory.
“That’s how you knew he was watching you the whole night, you stayed awake. That’s not good either Ramona,” said Katie.
“Don’t worry about me, part of the job,” sighed Ramona, she took a drink of her milk and put down the small carton feeling like she was too old for that carton.
“What kind of bad dreams?”
“He has guilt to atone for.”
“No you,” clarified Katie, she was deeply concerned about her friend.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talking about it could make everything better,” stated Katie.
“Talking about it,” she laughed, “You’re starting to sound like my old shrinks.”
Katie didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to say anything.
Ramona looked around, she felt like she was being watched. Something was there. Watching her. Ramona looked around, parking lot. Red cars, blues cars, black van, yellow care. Black van. Ramona looked back to Katie when the bell rang.
----------------------------------
Ramona unlocked her house door and stepped in over the threshold. She looked around, Cillian probably hadn’t come out her room. She went up the stairs and went towards her bedroom door down the hall. She knocked on the door, “Cillian, are you still in there?”
No one answered, “Don’t tell me, you killed yourself?”
The door unlocked. Cillian opened the door, “No.”
“Why didn’t you unlock it when I first knocked,” replied Ramona.
Cillian shrugged his shoulders. Ramona looked around the room, the place had been cleaned, Ramona looked up at him, “You cleaned my room?”
“It’s a habit,” sighed Cillian looking down at his boots. He looked at his shirt, long blues sleeves, but they weren’t long enough, stopping at the forearm, “Your brother’s clothes are too small.”
“It’s supposed to fit that way, on the arms,” assured Ramona.
Cillian looked at his forearm confused, “I’m hungry.”
“Come on, no one’s home,” stated Ramona.
Ramona lead him downstairs into the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?” she asked.
“Anything,” he said quickly.
She opened the frig and looked in as Cillian sat down at the island, watching her. Ramona pulled out a package of turkey. Cillian opened it quickly and started eating it, like a pig with manners. She turned around towards him looking at him confused, she pulled out a gallon of milk from the frig.
Cillian ate the meat, “I was going to make a sandwich for you.”
He shook his head no, “This is fine.” Ramona put the milk jug on the counter she went to the cabinet to get a cup. Cillian opened the jug and started drinking down the milk. This wasn’t gross to her, she was very surprised.
“You do know if you drink it too fast you, will throw up,” replied Ramona.
Cillian after a moment put down the half full jug, his spine felt cold from the cold milk, “What else do you have?”
“Slow down,” laughed Ramona, she stopped that laughing, spoke seriously, “Just slow down, okay.”
“Haven’t eaten food, in years,” he stated, “Haven’t fed on even blood in days.”
“Are you full?” asked Ramona looking at the empty thing of turkey, “Ooh, how about some healthier food too.”
Cillian started scratching his face where the beard was. Ramona cocked her head to the side, “I thought vampires grew facial hair.”
“It takes longer,” replied Cillian, “And never had it before.”
“Why suddenly?”
“I guess it’s because of my being older,” he replied, “It itches. And I’m all dirty.”
“You think large buckets of water thrown on you would fix that?” stated Ramona. She felt like she should be mean.
Cillian looked at her angrily, “Why don’t you sleep?” he just looked at her, she asked again “Is it bad dreams.”
“You don’t know anything child,” he hissed putting his hands down on the counter.
“I know something about bad dreams,” replied Ramona.
“I’m still hungry. I’m going back to your room, you can go slay.”
“But you’re still hungry.”
Cillian ignored her and went up the stairs. She heard him close the door, heard him lock it.
----------------------------------
Ramona went to Fisher’s. “How’s he doing?” questioned Fisher.
“Angry with me, like I care,” stated Ramona.
“Angry, natural emotion, especially when one wants to be killed but it’s not happening,” Fisher sat behind his desk.
“He’s had time to try and commit suicide.”
“Of course.” Fisher and her were quiet for a long moment, “He’s there alone?”
“Yeah.”
“This isn’t going to make up for what you did,” he explained.
“I just didn’t say anything, okay. Doesn’t mean anything, okay. Have you found out anything?” questioned Ramona.
“I don’t believe, he had none of the symptoms expressed for this kind of transformation,” stated Fisher.
“I’m worried, what if he does something?”
“It could happen, god forbid,” sighed Fisher picking up a stack of books off his desk and placing them correctly on the shelf.
“I don’t want him there, alone of all things,” explained Ramona, she was pacing, “This is all wrong. And I think he followed me to school today.”
“You’re the slayer, you would have sensed him.”
“He’s been sneaky, he’s been a vampire, sneaky vampire for decades, it could happen,” she proclaimed.
“Also was forced into the military for decades, learning what they knew,” sighed Fisher.
“Just making my point,” sighed Ramona, “Trained sneaky.”
“What if he is following you.”
“Humans can be mastermind killers, he could be trying to figure out where I’m weak at.”
Fisher turned towards Ramona stacking the last book, “Wouldn’t he want to fight the strong you, being the egotistic man he is.”
“What if that’s just what he wants me to think?” suggested Ramona.
----------------------------------
Cillian leaned back against the corner. Looking off in the distance, not feeling like he needed sleep. The sun went down. He had pulled his shirt off. Didn’t like that thing, it seemed scratchy. He felt so hungry, so sleepy, he’d tried to sleep, it didn’t work.
Up all the time, hearing things, watching things. Something stopped in front of the house, he heard the wheels squeak. Cillian stood up and looked out the window.
That black van was going down the street. Cillian stepped back from the window, standing in the way of the sun light. He looked at that light.
Cillian slowly put his hand into the warm light coming through. Flexed his fingers. Closed his eyes. Cillian pulled back quickly.
He closed his eyes tight, out of the sun, “This isn’t right,” he hissed.
“I’m ashamed of you,” replied a female voice.
Cillian’s eyes opened quickly, “Julia?”
“I’m ashamed of you,” she replied again.
Cillian turned around towards her. Surprised, his eyes opened up wide. “No,” he moaned to himself putting his hands on his ears, “No, not real.” His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the replica of his dead love.
“You’ve turned yourself into a fiend, you evil-”
“Go, away, you’re not there!!”
She held her arms like she was cold, “I was in love you. Now, you’re just some thing. You haven’t a heart.”
“Shut up please, please go away,” stated Cillian going down on his knees.
“You keep acting like that thing you were,” she growled.
Tears went down Cillian’s cheeks.
----------------------------------
Ramona was walking home from Fisher’s, alert of her surroundings. It was night. She was wondering what she’d find when she got home. Dead people, or just one dead person, Cillian. Slit his wrists in the bathtub or something. She kind of wondered actually, did he even know how to fill up the bathtub. He hasn’t had a thing to do with bathing since he got there.
She stopped in her tracks. Ramona looked around, looked behind her. Cars parked next to houses. “That Van,” she stated noticing it.
The lights on that van went on. Ramona cocked her head to the side. She had more important things to do.
Get back home, vamps try and get her all the time, all you have to do is goin in that house. They can’t get in that house. Not your house.
Ramona turned from the van and started walking down the sidewalk quickly. What she didn’t know though was that the man inside the van wanted her to come to him. He cocked his gun he had prepared for her. Blow her brains out on the street, nice and quick too.
----------------------------------
“Fisher, something’s following me,” stated Ramona, “Or someone.”
Ramona was talking with Fisher over the phone, pacing her room. The shower in the bathroom going, which answered the question of where Cillian went.
“I’m afraid to say Ramona but, there’s many, many black vans in New York City,” replied Fisher sitting on his couch in his living room, having some hot tea, eating a cookie.
“I know that Fisher,” sighed Ramona, “I can’t have two problems, Cillian and Stockers Anonymous.”
“Once they flipped their headlights on did they move anywhere?”
“Well parked in front of the house across the street,” stated Ramona.
“Really?”
“Yes,” stated Ramona, she looked towards her closed drapes.
“See what happens Ramona, if they make a move, defend yourself.”
Ramona sighed, “Sure.”
“I can’t help you all the time, you have-”
“Responsibilities. Bye Fishy.”
“What?!” demanded Fisher.
Too late Ramona had hung up the phone. The bathroom door opened. Cillian was drying his hair off some more, standing there shirtless. “Do the pants fit?”
“Yeah,” stated Cillian, he put down the towel as he scratched his jaw, itchy from the hair on it.
“Quite scratching your face.”
“Can’t,” he replied, “It itches.”
“Shave.”
He cocked his head to the side, “Don’t know how.”
Ramona just looked at him for a long moment. “I’ll show you.” She went up to him and they went back into the bathroom. Ramona turned on the sink. She left the room for a moment and came back in with a can of shaving cream and one of her dad’s razors. Cillian was dazed, watching the water flow into the sink.
Ramona turned off the water. “Okay, stand next to the sink.”
She stood next to him, looking up at him for a long moment. Cillian towering over her. She sat up on the sink for extra height. He looked at the mirror.
Seeing his reflection, He reached out to touch the mirror as she put shaving cream in her hand, “Not used to seeing your reflection?”
“I look like a homeless man,” stated Cillian.
Ramona looked at him and he turned towards her. She put the shaving cream on his cheeks. He looked at her like she was crazy when it touched his cheek, “Cold.”
“Yeah,” she said putting it on him.
She wiped her hands off and picked up the razor, “We don’t slit our wrists with these,” she replied. He watched the razor. Looked to the mirror when he couldn’t see it touch his face. “You go up against the grain,” said Ramona. She knew he’d try it so she just told him, “Don’t talk.”
Slowly she shaved his face, putting the razor in the water ever so often. The hair just came off with the blade, “Here, you try.”
Cillian took the blade after a moment of forethought. He looked in the mirror trying to do what she did. He did it, He dropped the razor, hissing in pain. It fell in the sink.
“Oh, come on,” she said, “Don’t be a baby about it.” Ramona took the razor out of the sink as he held his cut. She pulled his hand away, “Oh, it’s nothing.” Cillian looked at her, “Not ever that much blood. Let me finish.”
He didn’t mind, he didn’t like doing it. Made him think about committing suicide. The other things, slightly made him think of his father.
After a long moment, they were done. Ramona took a wash cloth off the side of the sink counter. She wiped off the excess shaving cream. He spoke, “Where did you learn this?”
“My brother, he had me shave his face when he had that broken arm thing going for him,” she said softly. She put down the wash cloth, “He milked that for all it was worth.”
“You’re a small woman,” he replied.
“Thanks, I guess,” she said. Ramona looked at his face, “I can’t tell you cut yourself.” Ramona put her hand to his cheek. She was going to feel it, “I think I did pretty well.” His skin was smooth. Cillian looked down at her gray eyes.
Cillian’s hand met hers on his face. He was checking for her hand, just checking. Making sure it was real kind of thing. Ramona looked at his hand. Large manly hand.
His skin was warm, his palm was warm. Slowly Cillian took her hand. She looked at his blue eyes, big blue eyes. Breathing softly.
Cillian leaned in towards her face, towards her lips. His hands so warm. She saw this coming, Ramona leaned in.
“Ewe,” it hit her, “Ewe.” She slapped Cillian.
He pulled away. “Yuck,” Ramona looked at him confused. She got off the counter, “No way, not happening.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have a heart!” growled Ramona, “You aren’t a human being, you’re wrong!” she left the room. Cillian heard her leave the house, she slammed the door behind her.
----------------------------------
Ramona had to walk. This was all wrong. She heard that van behind her. Pulling over. Thinking it could trick her. Cillian tried to trick her. Found her weakness, if that’s what it was. “Ewe, wrong, all wrong,” she spoke to herself going away from the house, farther and farther away.
She ignored the van. Just had to walk.
----------------------------------
Cillian sat on Ramona’s couch. Sat there, drinking, just drinking, he’d never thought of drinking away his problems. When he was human he didn’t have problems like that to just drink away. Thought the buzz felt nice though so he drank, and he drank. But didn’t drink all the time.
He sat on Ramona’s couch, in clean jeans and a clean white T-shirt. A bottle of scotch in hand, turns out, Ramona’s dad liked it, and liked it old. Cillian felt that buzzing feeling already. He could drink well and hard.
Why did he almost try that, why? He didn’t like her, if he was a vampire he would have tried to kill her. That was his goal. If he was still a vamp, she would be dead. Death, he wanted that.
“Still here?” hissed Mark. Cillian looked at him, sitting there, not caring, letting that buzz agitate him. “Why don’t you talk, why don’t you leave. I know what you and my sister have been doing.”
“Nothing,” stated Cillian, low voice.
“Liar-” Mark stopped, Cillian had some kind of strange look about him. Mark didn’t understand, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Cillian didn’t like how Mark was looking at him, “You stop looking at me.” He took a deep swallow.
“No,” replied Mark.
“I said…You, stop…looking…at…me,” he said as plainest as he possibly could. Mark didn’t move his gaze, neither did Cillian.
----------------------------------
~1930:
Cillian sat on the parlor couch in his home, in the midst of a dinner party. His sat there drunk. The family couldn’t tell he was drunk, you asked him he’d just deny it. Or something worse.
His hair laid down on his shoulders, his fine suit. Glass of fine liquor in his hand. Looking at a man that was part of the party, that knew he was drunk, “I don’t like…the…way…you’re…looking…at…me,” growled Cillian.
----------------------------------
~ 2004:
Cillian stood up quickly. He lunged at Mark. Cillian punched him in the face, punched him again, again. Mark got slammed against the living room wall. Cillian punched him across the face. Three more times.
Mark punched back. Cillian grabbed him by the shirt and threw him down on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Cillian felt his blood and Mark’s on his hands. Mark’s face was bleeding. No time to think about wounds.
----------------------------------
~ 1930:
Cillian threw the staring man on the coffee table in the middle of the parlor. That table smashed to pieces. The people of the party were coming into the room.
He mounted the man and punched him in the face repeatedly. Quickly. Grabbed the man by the head and slammed his head on the wood.
----------------------------------
~ 2004:
Cillian punched Mark in the head letting go of him. He pulled his arm back again. Suddenly Ramona pulled Cillian off Mark. He automatically swung and hit Ramona up side the head. She fell back on the ground.
He realized who he just hit. “Ramona?” Why wasn’t she getting up, was she just unconscious? Cillian looked at the blood on his hands, looked at the beaten Mark. Mark wasn’t moving.
Confused, sad, scared. Cillian ran out of the house.
----------------------------------
~ 1930
Cillian kept punching away at that man’s face till he was pulled back by his farther, and house worker. Two of his cousins pulled him off to. Blood, blood, blood.
One of the maid went over to the man. Didn’t understand, didn’t know what he’d did. Things in the room for Cillian were spinning. He was calming down, family holding him back. He stood there.
The maid looked towards them, “He’s dead.”
----------------------------------
There was a burning building. Suddenly Ramona sat up, she took in a quick breath. She was a live completely a live. She looked around the room for Cillian, he wasn’t there.
Ramona saw her brother lying there. She almost couldn’t tell who he was. Quickly she went to his side, “Mark, Mark, wake up, please wake up,” she felt for a pulse.
He was a live. Ramona went to the phone quickly and picked it up, dialing 911.
----------------------------------
Cillian walked down the night street. Looking at the blood on his knuckles, “I am a beast, why?”
He hated being human, life so fragile. Life so wrong. Cillian walked down the side walk. He smelled something.
Smoke. Cillian smelled smoke. There was smoke in the air. He heard the sound of sirens. His eyes opened wide.
There was a burning building. Cillian ran towards it to see what was going on. Men talking, a bunch of men talking. The scotch wasn’t affecting Cillian anymore, the talking just wasn’t audible.
“There’s a little girl on the 4th floor,” stated one of the fire men.
Cillian looked at the firemen, quickly he ran towards the back of the house. He went in. No one watching him go in. The men outside doing the work, trying to get in.
He went in quickly. He heard the little girl screaming, little girl crying. Quickly he went down the hall. Smoke all around.
----------------------------------
“He’ll be fine Miss Locke,” replied the EMT in the ambulance as they went down the street.
“Thank you, thank you.”
“Whoa,” stated on of the drivers.
Ramona looked out the window, she saw that burning building. That was the burning building, that place, the exact place.
----------------------------------
“HELP, HELP!!” screamed the little girl.
“I’m coming!!” called Cillian.
He found the room quickly. Fire, fire all over. Cillian looked around for her. He couldn’t see her. “HELP, I WANT MOMMY!!!”
Cillian found the screaming girl. She was hiding under the bed. The room was hot, Cillian had sweat in his eyes. He got down on his knees and looked under the bed, “Lassie, come out here,” he offered his hand.
The little girl trembled and cried. She didn’t come. Cillian quickly grabbed the girl and the bed went down, the post of the bed on fire. He picked her up.
He ran out of the room. The way him came in blocked. Cillian looked around, the stairs weren’t on fire. Great.
He ran out the building with the girl in his arms. Firemen came to their aid. “Man, how’d you get in there,” said one of the fireman, “Boy, you’ve got some courage.”
One of the fire men took the little girl. Cillian heard a scream from inside of the building. Before anyone could stop him, Cillian shot off towards the building to go back in.
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Fire, fire all over. There was a screaming woman inside. He couldn’t find her. She was screaming so much. Cillian coughed, he coughed again. His head hurt.
He covered his mouth and followed the screaming, followed it to one of the kitchens. There was fire all over the place, “Where are you?!!!”
Suddenly something pushed down Cillian and out the window. The stove in the kitchen pulled it’s last string, blowing. Whatever pushed Cillian, it was strong. It was Ramona. They went through the window of the apartment building. Glass going everywhere. Explosion going everywhere.
They hit the ground. Cillian landing on top of Ramona. An average person wouldn’t have been able to survive that fall. Cillian saw her, he was struck with surprise. Laying over her, “Are you alright?”
Ramona looked up at him. Cillian looked deeply into her gray eyes. Then he rolled over off of her suddenly.
She sat up, “CILLIAN!!”
Cillian ran off, he ran away from her. Ramona got up to chase him down.
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Ramona ran and ran, followed him to that old abandoned motel. Cillian ran in through the door less room he’d been staying in. He went up against the wall in the back. His arms against it breathing hard. Tears going down his cheeks.
She ran in behind him, slowing down when she saw him, “Cillian.”
“I couldn’t, I’m wrong, I’m bad.”
“You, you saved that girl.”
“I killed you. I killed your brother.”
“NO, you didn’t. He’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
“Couldn’t,” stated Cillian sitting down in that corner.
“Couldn’t what?” she questioned.
“Couldn’t, just couldn’t,” he replied like he was angry with himself.
“Save that woman?”
“SHUT UP!!” roared Cillian.
“You saved that little girl,” stated Ramona going towards him.
“No, I didn’t, I didn’t save her at all. I killed her,” replied Cillian, sobbing.
“It’s your soul, it’s all this stuff, this stupid stuff making you think this way.”
“I’m evil-let her live, killing her, showing the bad,” he hissed.
“Stop talking like that. You did a good thing, it’s okay, you tried to save that woman, but it was just her time.”
“My time, you saved me,” he stood up. Stood up slowly.
“I had to.”
“WHY?!!” he roared, looked at the drywall, hitting his hands against it, “WHY, WHY, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TAKE MY TIME!!!??”
“Because it’s what’s right,” assured Ramona.
Cillian turned towards her, he went at her, grabbed her by the shoulder. Tears went down his cheeks, “I’m a bad man, BAD, BAD, BAD, MAN!!”
“Now, I wouldn’t go thinking that young man,” stated a voice, “I mean I hardly know you and I don’t think you’re that bad. Especially after saving that girl.”
Ramona pulled from Cillian, she turned to see that man. The man that had been sitting in his base of a black van, following her. “Who are you?” questioned Ramona.
“Someone special.”
“You don’t know what I am,” sighed Cillian.
“I’m sure that everything will be fine, for you anyway,” stated the man.
“What?” asked Ramona.
Everything seemed to go slow. Everything, seemed to flash like a life before one’s eyes. That man had pulled out a gun. Aimed it. Aimed it so quickly, aimed it so slowly. Like it could be stopped, if only your body wasn’t going as fast as that other body with the gun.
The man put his sweaty finger on the trigger. Moved it. Not a shaky gun holder, meant he was confident, or did the sweating prove different? The gun went off.
“CILLIAN!!!” screamed Ramona.
Cillian went down on the ground. Ramona was supposed to have gotten shot, “Damn it,” hissed the man cocking the gun again.
Ramona went to Cillian’s aid, a bullet in his heart. The man aimed the gun to hit Ramona in the head. “You shoot her here….Now…” ached Cillian, “I’ll survive….survive……hunt you down….and….torture you…slowly.”
The moment seemed slightly frozen, even though it wasn’t. The man smiled, “Okay.” He pulled the gun away, “I guess I can wait a little while.”
The man walked out of the building. Cillian looked up at Ramona, she pulled off her jacket and put it on the wound to hold pressure.
“I’m bleeding a lot?” asked Cillian.
“Yeah,” assured Ramona.
“I deserve it.”
“Shut up,” she stated, pulling out her cell phone.
“No…”moaned Cillian, she ignored him. “…No.”
To be Continued…
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