Bites & Bruises (ManxMan)

Ten

The ground was covered in snow the night I went wandering in the wood again.

I needed to feed yet there was no animals in sight anymore, all hibernating or moved on to warmer parts. I would have done the same, I had been until I arrived at HollowVale and stumbled head over heels for a man who claimed to be a monster.

Part of me wanted to get my things and leave the small, supernatural town yet just the thought of being away from the arrogant man I was hopelessly falling for, had me reluctant to do so.

It had been a good twenty minutes before I finally gave up hunting and sat down on a log, ignoring the way the cold seemed to creep up my spine and settle deep within my bones.

Sighing softly, I cupped my hands to my face and blew into them. What am I going to do now? I thought with a scowl.

Rosá and Marius had been driving me insane lately. They would come home and be louder than normal, high off human blood and ignoring the fact I needed to rest before my patrol.

Since the other week, the older vampire had ignored him, brushing him off with blunt sentence though I could still see the fire in his stormy grey eyes.

Why did I have to slap him? I cursed myself mentally, knowing that I was so close to him finally kissing me and yet I had ruined it by letting my irritation get the better of me.

I don't belong to anyone. I huffed and shoved my hands into my pocket. The thought of being his makes you hard though, my subconscious giggled. You'd love to be owned by him.

Shaking off my thoughts, the faint smell of blood reached my nose and had my throat burning more. Stiffly getting up from my spot, I then began to follow the scent, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

The killer hadn't made an appearance for just over a week now and I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. It could only mean one of two things, they had moved onto another town or were planning something big. Neither brought me much peace and I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of the crime scenes I had seen.

Why was the killer infatuated with gays?

How would he even know if someone was gay? Unless... unless they were watching their victims closely.

My mental ramblings were suddenly cut short when I came to a small clearing.

I forced myself to swallow back the growl that wanted to leave me when my gaze wandered to a pile of what looked like human remains, though as I crept closer I soon found them to be vampires. Great. Just great.

Making myself go closer, I stepped round the bloodied area and found a grave stone which would have been hidden by shrubs had it not been winter.

Clarke Davidson,

Beloved son and grandfather,

You shall forever be missed and loved,

May you rest in peace always.

Bending down I found a set of freshly placed flowers set up against the stone, white rose petals stained red with crimson liquid.

Who is Clarke Davidson? I pondered as I reached out to rub away dirt and blood from the bottom of the headstone. Behind it, I discovered that there was no date engraved on the headstone and that had my frown deepening.

A cold gust of wind whipping round me had me snapping from my dark thoughts and I slowly straightened and took a step back, gaze wandering round the empty forest which surrounded me.