For the Hopeless

Chapter 9: Her Gay Best Friend

Vampires, Bailey thought as she paused to watch the fight. I didn't think they were supposed to be so easily conquered. She turned her gaze to the unconscious male at her feet and couldn't help a small smile. Then again, I've never been explicitly told that they couldn't be pussies, either.

She was forced from her less-than-serious thoughts by a fist to the face, an attack she should've seen coming. She staggered back, her arm up to block a follow-up punch in an instant. The other man, sporting the same long, gleaming fangs as the one Dameon was brawling with, had decided to come after her. She swung back at him, but he blocked her fist with little trouble. The foot to the ribcage that followed wasn't quite as easy to stop, however. The man hit the pavement, and she followed him down without hesitation.

"Why are you doing this?" she found herself asking as she pinned him down, his hands held tightly above his head. "Why are you betraying your own kind?"

"You act like we have a choice," was the man's harshly spoken response. He attempted to knock her off of him, expecting it to be easy because she was so tiny, just a mere woman. But of course, she didn't budge. She was too strong for him, too determined.

"Why don't you?" she asked, her expression stern, her hold unrelenting. She wanted an answer. She wanted a reason for all of this nonhuman-to-nonhuman cruelty.

"It's either this, or we end up as experiments," he hissed, leaning up in an attempt to put his face in hers. "We would be just like the rest of you."

"Do I look like an experiment?" she snarled back, gladly getting in his face. "Do I look like some helpless creature awaiting death?"

"To me?" he asked, suddenly becoming eerily calm, smiling knowingly in her face. "Yes." She let out a cry of frustration and tore his arms from his body, blood spattering across her face. He screamed, but she silenced him soon enough. His head joined his arms, both falling down the manhole where she'd so carefully thrown them.

She stood, hauling the rest of his blood-spewing body to the hole and dropping it in. She didn't care if there were evidence left behind – it wasn't as if they'd be able to tell it was her – but she didn't want it out where it could cause immediate alarm. In the dark, the blood covering the street would likely go unnoticed. An entire body wouldn't have.

Once that grisly duty had been taken care of, Bailey turned her attention to Dameon's fight with the other vampire. Dameon appeared to be winning, but it was hard to tell, really. Both of the men were covered in cuts, coated in each other's blood as well as their own, so neither of them were actually doing too well.

"I didn't think a mere vampire would cause you so much trouble, Dameon," she taunted from the sidelines, her arms crossed and her expression void of emotion. He growled in response, ducking beneath an attempted punch from the vampire and springing up to execute a fluid blow to the man's jaw. He stumbled back, against the wall of the police station, and Bailey intervened.

That devilish red glow filled her eyes as it always did, and the man's head was severed from his body by an invisible force. Only a red haze lingered. With blood spraying from its neck, the headless body fell against Dameon, who shoved it quickly away. The head floated slowly through the air, bobbing eerily up and down, until it was resting nicely upon Bailey's waiting palm.

"Throw the body in the manhole with the other one," she ordered, her eyes on the ashy gray eyes of the head. The pale skin was slowly turning the same color. Soon, it would crumble like a poorly composed statue, but not soon enough. It would take nearly ten minutes for the bodies to become dust; someone could easily see them in the meantime.

The head flew from her hand as she was jerked backward, against a lean, bony body. She gasped as a pair of fangs entered her neck, a strand of hair being painfully pulled as it was caught up in the bite. The unconscious vampire had awoken, obviously, and this was his last ditch effort at beating her. She could feel the vampire saliva entering her veins, smell the pheromones seeping into the air around her, but neither chemical had any effect on her. A normal person would've been feeling immense pleasure, falling into a sluggish lull; but if anything, she could see more clearly, feel the pain more sharply. And it pissed her off.