Rampage [BK#1 in Dark Creatures]

I'm An Idiot and I Know It

No. Way.

I couldn't believe it. That little creep.

He had stashed at least a dozen bags of chips and Slim-Jims in the corner of my spot. The mattress now had sheets, and the dust on the ground had been swept up. The entrance to my spot now had a wooden board in front of it to serve as a door. It was held by one single nail, so someone could push the door sideways and slip inside.

Had he... Had that guy turned my spot into his own personal clubhouse?

I scoffed. "You have got to be kidding me."

I shrugged out of my jacket and sat on the mattress. As soon as I did, a swift scent of warm cinnamon and pine wafted up. Wow. He must've actually used sheets from his house.

Starving, I reached for one of the chip bags and dug into it.

It was starting to darken outside. What time was it? Seven? Eight? I wasn't sure. I didn't really care, though. I needed to sleep soon, no matter what time it was.

That's when the door was shifted open.

I jumped back, instinct taking over. My fangs dropped out, the claws extended, and a low growl escaped my lips.

The boy peered at me, holding a handful of Slim-Jims. He didn't look afraid, just curious. He took a slow step inside. I growled in response.

"Hey," he said, giving me a small smile. "I brought you something."

I hissed as he tossed the Slim-Jims a few feet away from me. I glanced at him, then the Slim-Jims. He noticed the six empty chip bags thrown around on the floor.

"I guess you're not hungry, huh?" he asked, gesturing to the bags. "Already had dinner."

I snorted. "You're dead," I rasped. My voice was deeper, more shadowed than it usually was.

He swallowed."I've been looking for you, you know."

I tilted my head, sniffing the air. He smelled like pine and cinnamon.

"I want to help you."

I laughed, the sound coming out like a mangled, breathless hyena. "I don't need help."

"Fine. Then tell me what you are."

I studied him for a moment. Then, approaching him, I bared my fangs at his face. "What do you think?"

"Maybe I could help," he repeated.

"I told you: I don't need help!"

"Yes, you do. I've never seen anything like you. It's like... You're human, but you're not." He straightened, looking deep into my eyes. "Do you even know what you are?"

Fed up, I grabbed him by the collar of his sweatshirt. He didn't flinch. Instead, he glowered at me, as if I should be scared of him.

"Get out," I snarled. I threw him against his makeshift door. "Don't ever touch my stuff again, got it? This is my spot. I live here. So don't come thinking you can claim it all for yourself, or I'll use these fangs on that pretty little face of yours."

He looked genuinely confused. "What?" He pushed himself to his feet. "I'm not claiming this place. It's all yours. I just figured you'd want some food and maybe even a door for some privacy."

I paused. "This... You did this for me?"

He nodded like it was obvious. Now that I think about it, it kind of was.

If I wanted to lay low, I'd need someone who could be my eyes and ears. Someone to run errands. Damnit, I needed him.

I huffed and turned my back to him. "You want to help me?" 

I didn't bother to wait for his answer. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and switched.

When I turned back around, he gave a startled gasp. "You!" he yelped. "You're the... You're the girl!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I am. Now, can you help me or not? I've got some people out there looking for me, and I can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before they find out I'm in Queens."

He stammered. "Wait, hang on. You're a person? And you live here? But... You left." He shook his head in wonder. I tapped my fingers impatiently against my leg, forcing myself to give him a second to process. "You left and now you're back and people are chasing you? For what? To lock you up?" His eyes widened. "Are you like a runaway science experiment?"

I groaned. "Okay, no. I'm not a test tube baby. I'm a person. I have this weird thing where I switch when I'm asleep, and I can control it a little, but that's not why people are chasing me." I sighed and grabbed his elbow, pulling him into the alley. "Come on. I need to get out of here. Do you have anywhere I can go?"

He just stared at me, speechless.

"Look, I know it doesn't really make sense. Just bear with me, okay? I need to get out of here. Can you help me?"

After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. My mom owns a little apartment just outside of town. It's empty, so you can lay low there for a while."

We walked in silence. I carried one of the sheets the boy had thrown on the bed across my shoulder. Inside I had stashed as much food as I could carry, along with my bag of chains. The boy hadn't said anything when I'd grabbed them.

Once we got to the apartment, though, the boy's tongue loosened.

"So, what happens when you're... You know." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. The apartment was small and cozy. The view wasn't great, but it was still a nice place. The electricity and hot water worked, so I could actually take a decent shower. I grimaced. How long had it been since I'd had one of those?

"Have you ever peeled a grape?" I asked, opening the sheet and laying the contents out on the floor. The boy squatted down with me and started to organize.

"I guess."

"It's like that, only I can still see myself when I switch. It's like something takes over my body, decides to play with it, and throws me off to the side to wait until it's done." I grabbed an armful of chips and stacked them in one of the cabinets. "How long can I stay here?"

The boy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We never come here. My mom is super paranoid. She just keeps this place in case our apartment burns down or if there's a serial killer running through the neighborhood." He gave me a crooked smile. "Not that that would actually happen."

I suddenly noticed how attractive he was. He had a strong chin and broad shoulders. He was well built, the form of a young athlete. His hair was a deep black, ruffled from the cool weather.

"What's your name?" I asked curiously.

"Des," he offered. "Short for Desmund."

"Desmund," I repeated.

"What about you?" He broke open a bag of Fritos. "What do they call you?"

"Bex," I answered.

"That short for something?"

I ignored the question. "Thanks for this."

We sat there for another half hour. I tried to answer his questions as best I could, but it was kind of difficult. He was asking things I hadn't even considered.

"Did your parents sell your soul or something?"

A look of surprise crossed my face. "Uh, I hope not."

It was getting late, and I needed to sleep. I figured I could chain myself up in the bathroom, to the towel rack, but it was a risk. I was probably strong enough to just rip that thing right off the wall.

"You should probably get home," I finally interjected before he could ask another question.

"What?" He glanced at his watch. "It's eight-thirty."

I nodded. "Yeah, and I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

When I finally got him to leave, I headed straight for the bag of chains. I wrapped them around my wrists, locked the other end around the towel rack, and stretched out on the cold tile.

I closed my eyes and waited. It was time.