It's 1947. Jasper is alone, and it will be another year before he meets Alice. Roaming the Seattle slums, and desperately hungry. Jasper gets more then he bargained for when he discovers a young girl writhing in agony, abandoned in a back alley. Jasper is about to take advantage of the seemingly already dying girl, only to find that she's not dying she's changing. Rated adult for violence, swearing and scenes of a sexual nature. THE FINAL CHAPTER IS UP! Banner by the wonderfully talented JokesOnJane
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2. Chapter 2: Fierce
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I knew a place; it was always empty, dilapidated. It was just beyond the slum boundaries.
Even the most desperate citizens of the slums never went there, afraid the remainder of the roof would fall in, or the floor would give way. It was an old house like in frightening movies, once it had been grand, and it was now rotting from the inside out.
Perfect for us though, I thought, though I had to stop myself. Us? I had only just meet this girl, who wouldn’t be a girl for much longer, and I was already referring to her as though she was a part of me.
She groaned again, grasping at my shirt.
“Not long now.” I murmured “We’re almost there.”
Once inside, I set her down as gently as I could on the mould-ridden chaise lounge, drawing the curtains as I went. I pulled off my long coat and placed it over her, not that it would do much good.
I was about to try and start a fire in the ancient fireplace, when she spoke. Her voice although barely audible, and cracking with pain, was beautiful like a light breeze on a warm summers evening.
“Make it stop,” she whispered.
I went over to her, taking her hand in my own, it was cold like ice.
“You’re going to be ok, the pain will stop soon.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and her face scrunched up in agony.
“Can you tell me your name?” I asked softly.
She panted through another wave of torture, her grip on my hand never loosening.
“Eliza,” she breathed.
“I’m Jasper. Eliza, I promise I’m not going to let you die.”
Her heart rate picked up suddenly, I could actually see it pushing against her chest.
She screamed violently, but her heart continued to slam about inside. From my experience with Maria I knew it would be over soon, her heart would feel as though it was taking off; like a bird.
I counted the minutes in my head, ten, twenty, thirty. I almost expected to see a bruise form above her ferociously hammering heart. After two hours I began to think the transformation was going wrong, she should’ve changed by now.
I turned away from her, I could see through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains that it was still pouring down. I was so caught up in the sound of the rain that it took me a moment to realize that I could no longer hear her heart.
I whirled around, striding over to her. She was completely still, pale, not breathing. But was she dead?
“Eliza?” I whispered.
Her eyes shot open and she leapt backwards from me with a shriek.
“Eliza it’s all right, you’re safe, I’m not going to hurt you!”
She eyed me warily, never relaxing her position.
“It’s me, Jasper. Remember?”
“J…Jasper?” I couldn’t believe it was possible but her voice was even more beautiful then before, like music carried on the wind.
“Yes, I found you and carried you here.”
Eliza’s eyes continued to dart around the room, and as I watched I felt a twinge of sadness, the green had gone, replaced by crimson.
“What happened? Where am I?”
“I don’t know what happened to you before you changed, and we’re in a house just above the slums,” I explained, I needed to keep her calm; newborns were dangerous even at the best of times.
“Changed?” She muttered, a little crease in her forehead appeared. “What do you mean changed?”
I steeled myself to tell the truth to the beautiful girl.
“Eliza you’re not human anymore, you’re a vampire.”
“No,” she gasped, whirling around to stare at the broken mirror on the wall.
I heard her breathing quicken, saw her hands tremble and felt her emotions spiral out of control. A scream of pure rage escaped her perfect full lips, and she threw herself at me, teeth bared and snarling.
We went crashing backwards into the grand staircase, our hard, stone-like bodies destroying the wood and iron like a knife through butter. I grabbed her wrists and held them tight, she attempted to snap at my neck, but I flung her across the room.
She was back on her feet in an instant, dropping into a hunting crouch.
“You! You did this to me!” She screeched, her musical voice echoing around the broken room.
“No, when I found you, you had already been bitten!”
She rocked back on her heels readying to pounce once more; I blasted her with soothing waves.
“Eliza I’m telling the truth!” I cried.
She held her stance but some amount of reason came back into her eyes.
“What do you remember before me?” I asked, taking the tiniest of steps towards her.
“Rain, I… I don’t know it’s all fuzzy, and grey,” she snapped, becoming frustrated.
“All right, just try and focus.”
“I remember that I wanted to get out of the rain, it was so cold it almost felt like burning. I knew this shortcut and when I got halfway down the alley--”
Eliza stopped in mid-sentence so abruptly I thought she had died on her feet, her breathing went shallow and fast once more.
“Eliza, what is it, what do you remember?”
“There was a man.” She finally dropped out of her defensive crouch, sitting cross legged on the rotting, threadbare carpet. “He said I looked cold.”
“He asked me where I was going and I said home, then he asked if anyone was expecting me, and I said there was no one else but me.”
Sorrow filled her eyes, and she looked as though she was choking on the tears she could no longer cry.
“I didn’t want to tell him those things but they just came out.”
“It’s ok, do you remember anymore?”
“Um, he pushed me into the wall and…”
She didn’t need to go any further, the emotions rolling off her were more then enough; I felt her fear, anguish, and finally—pain; so much pain.
Eliza let out a wail, and tore the stone mantelpiece from the wall.
Then she froze as did I, a noise from outside drifted into the room, a drunk was singing stumbling along past the house.
A growl built in Eliza’s chest and her eyes seemed to glow when she caught his scent, I launched myself upon her, pinning her to the ground.
“Eliza, no!” I screamed.
“Get off me!” she snarled, thrashing about beneath me.
“I can’t allow you to hunt yet! You’re a danger to yourself!”
She didn’t listen but kept screeching and clawing at my arms. I held her firm, never lessening my grip, or adjusting my position.
After 10 minutes, even though it seemed like a lifetime, the drunk eventually staggered onwards taking his appetizing smell with him.
I let my grasp loosen slightly, Eliza whimpered into the floor, clutching at her throat.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered dropping her other arm completely and standing up.
“It burned,” she shuddered, curling into a fetal position.
I was surprised at how much the past thirty minutes had affected me; memories of my years with Maria came flooding back, of making the newborns control their thirst as well as my own.
Eliza brought me out of my reverie with a dry sob; I sat next to her letting my hand rest softly on her nearly dry hair.
“Why can’t I cry?” She breathed without looking up.
“I don’t know; we just can’t.” I moved my hand slightly in a way I hoped was comforting.
“What else can’t we do?”
I bit my lip for a moment wondering how much I should tell her, I didn’t want to make her angry again; I didn’t know if I had the mental energy to cope.
“It’s a bad idea to go out in the sun, it doesn’t hurt us, far from it but people would know we were different.”
“How?” She asked, holding her hand out for mine. I took it without thinking, and it felt good.
I could’ve sworn I heard Eliza giggle, but it may have been another whimper.
“It’s rather uncomfortable to eat human food, only do it for appearances sake. You have to bring it back up.”
I paused before speaking again.
“We don’t sleep.”
I felt the whole of Eliza’s body tense, but she relaxed just as quickly. She carefully sat up, rubbing her face briefly with her hands.
“Can I still have sex?” she asked abruptly.
“What? Um… uh-well—err. Yes,” I stammered.
Then something made my brain whirr awkwardly.
“What do you mean by ’still have sex’?”
For the first time since we’d met a smile broke across Eliza’s face, it was like watching the sunrise after being in darkness for a hundred years.
“Oh please, it’s not like I haven’t done it before!” she sighed with a trace of a laugh.
I just stared, yes Eliza was beautiful and highly desirable, but to me she was little more then a
child. I had the sudden inexplicable urge to defend her honor, or rather to find the man who took it from her and take his life; it seemed like an equal trade.
“How old are you?” I couldn’t keep the fury I felt towards this assassinator of virtue out of my voice; Eliza visibly flinched.
“I turned 17 last month.”
I bit back a growl, trying to make out patterns from the holes in the curtains to calm me down. Eliza suddenly shot to her feet, a tiny squeak escaping her mouth, and once more her hands flew to her throat.
The drunk was back, closer to the house then before, his scent hit us like being punched.
Eliza spurred on by thirst and newborn agility was out the door, before I could grab her.
I saw her leap at the drunk, saw her sharp new teeth rip into his neck, saw his life source pour into her mouth.
And I couldn’t resist anymore, my bloodlust took over.
I didn’t care; I didn’t care if I killed every citizen in Seattle.
The want for hot, luscious human blood coursed through me, and I wanted Eliza to be with me as we ravaged Seattle of its life.
- Violet Gage
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