The Vampire's Claim (boyxboy)

Chapter 16: Kill 'em for Kindness

The fatter rat was winning. Not really a surprise, there was a reason he was so fat and it was not from losing crumb scrimmages. Tiny rat, though, made it clear that he wasn't going down without a fight by swiping his talons at the other. They circled each other hissing.

I didn't acknowledge when he appeared next to me. He didn't try to say anything. There wasn't anything that could be said.

Fat rat struck jumping on the smaller one. They were a fur mess of teeth, claws, and screeching. Tiny rat managed to get away from the fat rat and they went back to circling each other.

It was the headlights that sent them both scampering into the dark of the alley. Well, damn. I'd never know the winner now and I had ten mental bucks on the fat rat.

"Kyle," Eskil mumbled placing his hand hesitantly on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and stood up from the curb.

I could feel the taxi driver's wide-eyed on me as I slid into the back seat. Eskil had tried to get me to change before we left, but I refused. Everything was a mix of harsh reality and surreal disbelief.

Eskil sat down next to me. He quickly handed the driver a slip of paper.

"You want to go here?" Taxicab asked. Guess not many silent people got in the car and gave their destination by post-it note.

"Yes."

I stared out the window the entire ride. Eskil was as stiff beside me. He too stared out his own window in thought, though occasionally I could feel his eyes drift to me. Waiting to see when I'd finally crack.

It could have been a long car ride or it could have been very short. I didn't know and I didn't care. I was only aware it was over when Eskil got out of the cab. I started to too before taxi cab stopped me.

"Are you okay man?" He asked eyeing Eskil out of his passenger window.

He had seen my clothes. I looked down at them and the matted wetness still clinging to them. "Yeah. Don't worry. It's not mine."

That probably shocked him more, but I was out of the cab before I could see his reaction.

Eskil stood in front of some stairs staring up at the place before him.

"Where are we?" I asked, stuffing my hands in my pockets and stopping next to him.

He glanced at me before quickly looking away. It was the most I had said to him in hours.

"Home. Come." With that, he went forward quickly ascending the stairs to the front door. I followed.

I don't know what I'd expected from Eskil's home. Something grand, maybe full of Baroque art or Renaissance masterpieces. Something light, fit for Versailles. Once these descriptions might have described this place, but it clearly had been a long time since life set foot in these halls.

Dust laid nestled on all the furniture. Spiders made their homes in every crevasse. Wallpaper peeled from the walls and the smell of rotten eggs perfumed throughout.

"Nice home." Eskil ignored my snark and led me through the dark house. I didn't even see one light switch. Was he still living in the candle era?

Eskil opened a closed door and stepped aside. "I'll bring you new attire." He disappeared so quickly afterward that I didn't have time to argue.

I didn't want to. I really didn't, but I supposed I'd have to eventually and what the hell, why not now?

At least his tub had running water. I waited until it was full and peeled the stained clothes off. The water scorched me, yet I sank into it anyway, and it turned a rose pink.

Then I scrubbed. And scrubbed. And scrubbed. I scrubbed until the pink turned a brilliant red. It still was not enough.

Everything was disoriented when I came aware. Another symptom? The last—fun fact that I learned—was burning my intestines from the inside out. That had been a joy. Maybe it was finally all over. I felt better. Not great, but I was no longer in the pain realm of severe agony.

It was when I looked down that my heart jumped into my throat. Red. I was covered in red. It ran from my hands, coated my shirt and jeans, and I felt it drip down my face. Mine? No, impossible. There was no way it was mine. With this much blood loss I'd be dead.

Dead. Memories flashed through my brain and I cradled my hand in my head. Eskil leaving. Me screaming. A knock on the door. A maid, she was worried. Her by my bedside trying to help with the chains. Me, hearing the blood pulsing under her skin. Me, snapping. Her, screaming. The warmth down my throat. Clawing, Clawing. Her limp, falling down beside the bed.

"No—God—I didn't—please no—God—" The begs poured from my mouth. Some small part of me lied, hoped, that this was another side effect, that this was all hallucination. The bigger part of me knew that it wasn't. The taste of iron bombarded my mouth. And the smell—no there was only one solution. I had to look. So I did.

Eskil found me later, cowered beneath the curtains, staring at the dead body across from me. Staring right into those big, dead, brown eyes.

"Kyle." He was in front of me immediately blocking my view. Desperation coated his face.

"I killed her." The words were hollow. It couldn't be real. She had been so nice and tried to help me and what had I done? "I fucking killed her."

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

What was he going on about? I fucking killed someone, fucking clawed and gnawed at them until they died, and he was asking me if I was hurt?

"I killed her. Me. I killed her."

"A reaction—" He started to soothe.

"Don't you get it? I fucking killed a person?!" The anger took over. "This is all your fault! If you had just given me some blood—if you were just here—where the hell were you?"

He reached out to calm me but I smacked his hand away. Surprise and hurt flashed on his face. "It will be alright. I will take care of this."

"Bet you're used to doing that, aren't you?" This obviously wasn't the first murder scene he had dealt with.

"Change Kyle," He tried to get me to stand but I curled even further up against the wall.

"No." The anger had drained me. I was tired. I barely had the energy to breathe. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Dead. My fault.

Everything else processed in segments. Eskil taking me outside and heading back inside to deal with the body. Me, sitting on the curb staring out into the darkness. One rat, stumbling upon some food in the alley across from the hotel. Another rat, a fatter rat, coming out and challenging it.

"Kyle," Eskil's voice sounded from outside the bathroom door. His voice brought me back. I stopped scrubbing, my body raw from my efforts.

"I'm fine," I said. I wasn't fine. "I'm done." I climbed out of the tub and dried myself with a towel I found in one of the cabinets.

Eskil handed me a pressed stack of clothes and led me across the way to another room. A bedroom.

"You are tired," He noted eyeing the bags under my eyes.

"Yeah." That was true, I was tired, but not the kind of tired sleep would cure.

He turned to leave but stopped. "Of everything know this Kyle: what happened is not your fault. You are not responsible for the blood effects. It is not your burden to bear." Then he left.

I sunk to the floor. He was terribly, terribly wrong. Because everything that happened was completely and utterly my fault. A fact that I was not ever going to forget.

Oh was that a shocker? Seriously, poor Kyle :( I was going over the whole scenario of Kyle's withdraws to decided where I wanted to pick up the story, and I just knew this would happen. Vampire blood is more than just making someone depended on it. It messes with a person on a whole other level too. But all that will be explained in later chapters. 

Thanks for reading and until next time! ~