Vampocalypse (old first draft)

Chapter Six

I opened our door and stepped out to see – you guessed it – Hector in waiting, again. He was as handsome as ever, still in his work clothes, the dark jumpsuit. I was picturing him as a cat, stalking the mouse hole, waiting for the defenseless mouse to emerge when he spoke.

“Hi.” He was trying to be friendly, or maybe he was just luring me in before pouncing.

 “This is starting to become a bad habit.” I said instead of a greeting.

 “So is your defiance.” He easily retorted. “Why won't you give in already?”

 “I'm not going to give in.” I told him. Skip came out behind me. He passed us by, scoffing without even a second glance. I gave his back the evil eye as he trotted down the long, gray hallway.

 “Then why are you still standing here?” Hector teased.

 It was lunch hour, and I should have been following my brother down to the dining area, but I wasn't very hungry.

 “I just wanted to come out here and tell you to stop stalking me. It's very unbecoming.” I squared my jaw and narrowed my eyes in a stern expression.

 “You know what I think?” He was as amused as ever.

 “I don't care.” I was as stubborn as ever.

 “I think you like me stalking you.” He explained anyway. “I think you get a kick out of the attention. A girl like you-”
“What do you mean, 'A girl like me'?”

 “With your bright hair, attention begging eyes, and those pouty, kissable lips. I bet they taste like cherry. I do miss cherries.” He leaned closer as if to breathe me in. I may have flinched a bit – it's not easy to keep your composure with a life-sucking superior invading your space. Still, I didn't back away. “You smell different than yesterday.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Nothing major, only a slight...have you been outside?” He seemed shocked at his own question.

 “Of course not. How would I get outside?”

 “You have a slight floral scent, I didn't notice it yesterday.”

 “I don't know what you're talking about. My shampoo?”

 “No. That's not it. You don't smell like the others.” Could this possibly get any creepier? He was too close. I could feel the energy coming from his body. It was fierce, wild, and hungry.

 “Please keep your distance.” I said.

 “You smell like... *sniff* the old one, your grandmother.” He declared.

 “What? You know, if that's a come-on line, you're really running out of ideas.”

 “No. I'm being serious. Well...I was, but if you think I'm slacking, I'll have to do something to make up for that fast.” He inched closer, and closed the rest of the space between us by pulling me toward him. It was unsettling, to be honest, the way no body heat wafted from him, not to mention his strength and the firmness of his body. For all purposes, I could just as well have been embraced by one of the many rigid metal objects in the compound.

 I admit, I yelped. I had never been so close to a superior before. He towered over me like some great, frosty structure of doom. His chilly hand gingerly cupped my face, his thumb rested on my cheek as the tips of his fingers splayed softly over my ear and through my loose hair. Slowly, he leaned-

 I jumped back so violently that my whole body jarred when my back hit the metal door of my quarters. My heart pounded a furious rhythm. I was speechless. Frozen. He almost kissed me! The superior almost actually kissed me. Now he was looking at me with that flawless smile, not in any way offended at my reaction. He knew what he was, and how dangerous he could be, after all.

 "Another time then." He promised. “You'll warm up to me.” He tapped the tip of my nose with his pointer, then gave me a wink, and in a snap he was gone.

 Chills ran up my arms and down my back. I almost made out with a superior. Was that normal? I had never heard of a superior being intimate with a firsty. He had been giving me signs, sure, but I thought it was more or less a blood thing. I suppose it was much more.

 Dazed, I stepped back into the quiet apartment. Grandma was in her rickety chair, busying herself with her knitting. I perched on the window bench.

 The thing that disturbed me the most wasn't his persistence or even his motives. It was the way I had felt when I thought, for one terrible moment, that he was going to kiss me. It was something odd. Not fear or disgust. Instead, it was...excitement. He was a bloody fiend; something I could never want. I argued with myself. Why did I react like that?

"What's troubling you on this happy day, love?" Grandma asked, breaking my thoughts.

"Just trying to sort things out." I sighed.

 "Sooner or later, you're going to need someone besides your old grandmama, child." She said knowingly. "You could do much worse than that young man."

 "I told you, he's not a man, Gramma. He's a vampire." I felt secure enough in our isolation to say the forbidden word.

 "And a darn good one at that." She added.

 "How so?" I quizzed.

 "He's not like the others. He's spunky, he still has human attributes. He feels, Harper. You'd be hard up to find another like him. There aren't any anymore. They've become brazen, too unbound. Dark. He's not like them."

 "He is what he is." The moonbeams beat a path through the darkness, finding its way through the glass and bars of the window. In our dim room, the moonlight shinned on my hand giving my skin a grayish tent, and I wished I could be as resilient as the moon. To come up night after night and face the creatures, still managing to shine as bright as it - possibly - had even before they existed. Sure, it was the moon, and it couldn't understand such trivial circumstances, but nevertheless, it did what had to be done: giving the world its pale light regardless of all the cruelty and evil in it. Complete darkness would not exist as long as the moon was there. Could Hector be like the moon in a way? A dim light in the midst of all the evil around him? Something of the night, that still carries reflections of the day that he once inhabited? I had no way of knowing that. It would be nice to believe so. I hated to think it wasn't possible, that those illuminating smiles he gave me weren't a sign of uniqueness after all, but no more than a ruse to draw me into his vicious game.

 "He's different." Grandma insisted.

 "How can you know?"

 "I can see it in his eyes.” She stated simply, as if that answered all the questions about anyone's morality.

 “I don't see anything in their eyes except coldness.” I admitted.

 “Not this one. You'll see it. It may take some time, but you will.” She gave me her sweet, kind grandmother smile in an attempt to soften me up to her words. It worked. I was no longer willing to disagree, but I was curious to know what made her think this way.

 “Why do you say such things?”

 “An old lady knows. You just remember what I said. Now, come read a book to me, love. These old eyes aren't well for it." She requested.

 It was possible that she was just amusing herself by thinking if I got close to a superior, maybe I wouldn't dislike them so much, and in turn fit in better. Maybe she hoped I would start to appreciate them like everyone else and wouldn't feel so alone alone after she passed. I could understand her concern if I put it in those terms, but I wasn't about to squeeze any more information out of her. I hefted from the bench, shaking of my troubled thoughts on the way to the book shelf.

 "Gone With the Wind or The Hobbit?"

 "I feel adventurous today." She smiled.

 "The Hobbit it is." I plucked it from the shelf.

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Gramma and I enjoyed the adventure of Bilbo Baggins for many hours, but before I was able to get to the elves' kingdom, it was time to stop reading and prepare for my coming of age party.

 I was feeling somewhat awkward about all eyes being on me for the night, but Gramma would join me for the party, so I felt I could handle whatever came. I thought I could handle anything. Turns out, I was wrong.