Part 4: The Lick That Changed Everything

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Patrick's POV:

"And he just licked you?"
"Yeah."
Elisa laughed, probably harder than I'd ever seen her laugh in her life.
"Why, though? Like was he high or something?" she asked, still giggling.
"Honestly, I don't know. It just pissed me off at the time."

She took a deep breath and got up from the couch, switching off my boombox  in the process.
"The kind of people you come across, Patrick, just amazes me."
I followed her as she started up the steps.
"These past few days have been more eventful than what I'm used to which I can't tell is bad or good," I said.

"Most definitely good. I would die being cooped up in this boring place without a little action to keep me sane. Tell me again how those monsters crashed through the door," Elisa grabbed a bottle of water out of my fridge.

I had stocked up again on food yesterday before I would forget and starve to death.
"I told you I don't really know what happened. The more days that pass the harder it is to remember the details of that night."
She only smiled and sat cross-legged on the ground.
"Are you sure you didn't dream it? You do have a big imagination there."

"Oh great. Now you don't believe me."
Elisa took a sip of the water, "I'm the type of person who needs some hard evidence before I believe something that wild."
"But I'm your best friend. You're supposed to trust my word."
"Well..."
I rolled my eyes and sat down next to her.

"Have you found a prom date yet?"
"Nah. I've just accepted the fact that I will never have a date ever."
"I'm sorry, Elisa. Whoever you have a crush on probably isn't worth going with anyway. He's probably a world class jerk."

She smiled, "Oh he's worth it, and he's not a jerk either. I just don't think he'd be interested in me."
"Who wouldn't? You're pretty, smart, and amaz-"
"How's that wound doing?" she asked.

"Uh...I actually haven't checked it. I think the last time I did was when that weirdo licked it."
I lifted the bandage, and Elisa raised her eyebrows.
"What? Is it bad, Lis?"
"Are you sure someone cut you there?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"
Elisa ran to my room and returned with my mirror. I observed my face carefully but saw no signs of the giant cut that was once on my cheek. In it's place was a barely visible scar, and it bewildered me how it could have healed so quickly.
"That guy probably did it," she joked.

But I didn't laugh. I continued to stare in amazement at my own reflection, and the joke seemed to lose its humor little by little until it became a reasonable explanation in my head. How could Pete have done it with his saliva? He was just some guy unless maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was something much more.

Pete's POV:

I watched the elderly, dirty man fiddle with the beer bottle in his hands, contemplating whether to drink it or not. His clothes were in rags while his graying hair was long and knotted. He glanced up when he saw me walk towards him and took a swig of the alcohol.
"Hi," I greeted, joining him in the filthy alley.
"What do you want?" he slurred, this time downing a gulp of the poison.

"Nothing."
I could hear his heartbeat quickening the longer I stayed, and I could practically see the blood travelling underneath his skin. This was my only shot.
"Would you happen to have any change? I spent all of my food money on this," he laughed, lifting up the bottle.
"No," I scooted closer to him, "What's you name?"

The homeless man seemed surprised that I would ask this but answered anyhow, "Isaac."
"That's a nice name. I'm Pete. Would you like to know something, Isaac?"
"Sure," he closed the beer and stuffed it behind him.
"Come closer."

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