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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4. Chapter 4: Eliza
Rating 5/5 Word Count 956 Review this Chapter
ELIZA:We had lingered in the blood-soaked warehouse for a few more hours. I had to admit Eliza’s appetite for sex was nearly insatiable, and I was more then happy to facilitate her needs.
We strolled back through the slums; the rain had been mercifully succeeded by a thick layer of fog that made it nearly impossible for humans to see our practically glowing eyes.
Eliza sighed contently, swinging my arm to and fro with a force that would’ve snapped a normal man’s arm in half.
“Why do you always seem so surprised by me?” Eliza asked, curiously.
Our pace slowed even more as I turned to face her—her smile momentarily distracting me.
“Well, it’s just that you became a newborn vampire little more then a day ago, and well… you’re very in control.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked.
“Yes of course it is but…” I trailed off, because try as I might I couldn’t think of a negative side to Eliza.
“But what?” She pressed, looking at me in earnest.
“The first years of my vampire life I spent with another vampire called Maria, and I helped her create an army of newborns.”
Eliza just looked confused.
“I spent so long with the newborns, memorizing their patterns, emotions. But you,” I brushed her cheek with my thumb, “…You’re so different to anything I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Different in a good way?” she hesitated, bringing my hand back up to her face and holding it there.
I laughed and kissed her, she started to get carried away and I gently eased her back, she glared at me before breaking into her breathtaking smile.
“I guess I should tell you all about me then,” she sighed.
I realized with a jolt I actually knew nothing about Eliza’s previous life, it made me feel slightly wrong that I had been extremely intimate with her.
Eliza waited until we were back at the rotting house before beginning. She sat on the chaise lounge looking more than wary as I took a seat beside her.
“I was born in New York, on the 16th of October 1930. My father died when I was three, he was killed with a group of his friends; they were all strangled. My mother and I moved to Philadelphia in 1938. She still lives there, and I moved here to Seattle just over a year ago to find work.”
Eliza stopped at this last part, a wry smile crept across her face, then the doubt in her eyes returned and she stared at me.
“Go on,” I encouraged, feeling her trepidation.
“Jasper you have to understand that I was penniless when I arrived, I was young, naïve and frightened.”
I couldn’t understand her pleading tone; it was like she was begging me not to be angry.
“I met a man in the slums called Oscar, and he said he could help me find a job.”
Eliza stopped and I felt her shame, she took my hand.
“Jasp” she breathed, even while experiencing her emotional turmoil I couldn’t help but like the affectionate shortening of my name.
“Please promise me you won’t get angry,” she whispered seriously looking my deep into my eyes.
“I, that is to say Oscar found me a job with a nice woman called Ms. Marts.”
My stomach tightened uncomfortably, I knew that name. It was prolific in the slums, I was feeling the first stirrings of the anger I promised not to get.
“Go on,” I repeated, but this time I said it through gritted teeth, my tone unnaturally level.
“I became a…” Eliza took a deep unnecessary breath. “I was a prostitute.”
I snapped part of the chaise lounge off by accident, Eliza’s breathing faltered and she stood, backing away slightly.
“You promised you wouldn’t get angry!” She reminded me.
“That was before you told me you were a prostitute!” I yelled, anger shaking through to my very core.
“What difference does that make? I’m still the same person!” she yelled back.
“No, you’re not, you’re a…” I stopped myself, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Go on say it!” Eliza goaded. “Say it Jasper, tell me what I am, tell me you southern prick!”
I felt my control snap.
“You’re a whore!” I snarled.
“And what do whores do Jasp?” There was no affection in her term of endearment now, it was verging on venomous.
“Just shut up Eliza.” I breathed holding the bridge of my nose again.
She sauntered over to me pulling my hand away from my face with vicious force.
“What do whores do?” she hissed against my earlobe.
“They let men fuck them for money.”
“That’s right, you’re a clever boy, I let them fuck me,” Eliza spat, I could feel it rising in her, wanting to break free.
“Sixteen years old and I was being fucked by men fifty years older, I remember the shit who took my virginity. I’d love to snap his fucking neck,” she whispered fiercely, her eyes darting frantically about the room…I could feel her slipping.
“Eliza calm down,” I said while trying to regain some of my own self-control.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, you bastard!” She screeched, throwing the chaise lounge across the room.
Her chest rose and fell in deep movements, her crimson eyes burned brighter then ever before and I saw her humanity—the thing that separated her from the newborns of my past, disappear and be replaced by feral bloodlust.
Eliza growled at me, and I wasn’t her lover anymore or even a friend, I was her enemy—just another vampire that was standing in her way.
I was in a standoff with a deadly, impossibly strong newborn. And as if to make matters worse the scent of fresh blood wafted in through the door, a little girl had caught her leg in her jump rope had grazed her knee.
“This is going to be rough,” I murmured as Eliza lunged at me, teeth bared and ready to kill.
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