Blood and Bone

Darius walked late into the night. It was eerily quiet. But, the terrrain changed. Instead of desert, trees popped up and brush. He heard a strange noise from behind a thorny thicket and up on a gentrl rise. Then, a shot zinged by his head and Darius was surprised by a lone gunman, crouched low behind the brush and a dune. Darius was his target and this was likely a poorly planned robbery. Darius slid down the other side of the road, which sloped downwards, sharply. He took cover behind the dirt as the gunman fired again. Was this one of the riders, townsfolk, or someone new? Darius was not sure if he was interested in the answer. Instead, he took action by crawling and walking below the road, in the same direction he had previously been going. Darius was growing immune to the constant violence, which seemed to hamper his travels all through this area, the American westcoast. Another mile down the road and Darius had almost forgotten the lone gunman. Though, he looked back occasionally, in the coming darkness, for signs of pursuit. Few would chase a vampire in the dark, but this bandit might not know of Darius’ origins, or his own potential for violence.

His mind returned to issues of the present. Darius, through his travels, had heard of a witch on the westcoast, near Los Angles. It was rumoured that she could change the immortal into mortal men. If this was true, then Darius wondered how many of his kind remained on the westcoast of the US, if any. He had not seen another for a half century. If the rumours turned out to be true, then there might be others of his kind there, in the City of Angels.

Darius felt compelled to seek her out. A part of himself wanted to become human again. It had been centuries since he had felt fear or passion. A part of himself wished for mortality, again. He was curious to experience humanity again, after so many years. He vaguely remembered feelings of: excitement, curiousity, fear, anger and love. A lifetime of killing and consuming had left him feeling almost nothing, now (other than bloodlust). He felt almost nothing, as well for the people he killed. Human life was worth so very little. His human days were almost distant memories, now. Darius decided to find this witch, at any cost and he would find her in the heart of humanity’s evil, Los Angeles. He travelled through the night and up what remained of the Pacific Coast Highway. Cliffs loomed on his left and the ocean swayed on his right. The sound kept him company on his solitary journey.

Then, his ears began to pick up the sounds of people, rustling off in the distance. He crested a hill. He was now overlooking West Boulevard. Los Angeles lay in the not too far off distance. He was near the Hollywood sign, which was fading and falling apart.

It had only taken him two days of monotonous travel to reach this location and already, his appetite was rising. Down below, the skyscrapers and urban sprawl were practically destroyed. Buildings were crumbled and the millions of Los Angeles residents had been reduced to a few thousand. There was a reason for this. In the city’s center lay a large crater, likely a bomb strike, or similar. Radiating from its center and all around the strike was a tent city full of scavengers. Darius saw them as murderers and savages. They fed upon each other for a morsel of bread. They looked so desperate; yet, he still wanted to join their ranks.

Los Angeles had improved since last he saw it, Darius thought and laughed, sardonically. There were fewer people and buildings since his last visit. He wondered where they had gone. Perhaps, the looming radiation had decimated some. He shrugged off thoughts of their misfortune. Darius walked down the hill. His progress was broken by brambles and steep slopes. Soon, he found himself in a steady stream of survivors.

They seemed oblivious to his true nature. He listened to the voices on the streets; he was listening for a name, the name of the witch. She would be here, somewhere. He pushed his way through the throng.

A voice, or an instinct told him to head further west, towards the coast and he listened to his intuition. It drew him back to the ocean. Darius began to feel a pulse in the air, some sort of energy was drawing him near, to soemthing. It was guiding him. He wondered if the energy was malevolent.