Shiver 3 : Trowa
Old. He felt old. He was old. He was nearing the end of the tunnel but he saw no light. No, his light was at the other end, before he sank into this vampiric life. Or non-life, as it was.
Immortality bore a price, he reflected; for some it was nominal, for others vast. His own had never rested lightly upon him and now the years pressed heavily.
It does not matter, he told himself. It will be soon.
The ride to the nearest city is a long one but I do not think either Quatre or I mind. He is pressed snugly against me, arms about my waist. The nighttime scenery flies heedlessly past us. Right now nothing in the universe is more important that the sensation of air flowing by, the feeling of my lover against my back, the movement of the motorcycle beneath me. A timeless moment.
We arrive at the city in a seemingly short time. Dismounting, I chain my bike, cloak it. Most likely it will not even be noticed.
Quatre is quiet beside me. He does not like the city, I know. He does not like the act that we must perform here. Next to Wufei he is the eldest but he has never liked killing. I doubt he ever will.
The rest of us myself included affect indifference. Yes, we were once mortal, we were once their kind But Eternity widens the gap between humanity and vampirism to immeasurable distances. None of us are or have been human for a very long time, no matter how human we may seem at times.
We separate to hunt; it is an unspoken rule between us. We hunt alone, we do not speak of the hunting.
It is always night here, even when the sun is bright. Nothing can wash away the shadows that haunt this place and it is here we seek our prey. A bit ironic in some ways, shadows hunting shadows in a land of shadows
I shake my head, forcing my mind away from such silly musings. I allow myself to sink into the blackness that is always hovering at the edge of sight and become the predator. My eyes fill with silver, my teeth grow to points. I see, smell, feel everything. I own the night.
My mate has gone west so I head east. I am silent, ghosting over concrete.
There a single, small figure huddled in the gloom. A young woman,
maybe twenty. Her face is dirty and her clothes tattered. Perhaps she would
I tip her chin up she looks at me with tired eyes. She does not know who I am and she does not care.
I kneel slowly beside her let my mouth settle gently on her neck she does not resist. I drain her slowly and when I stand I leave a quietly slumped figure behind.
Quatre is already back, waiting for me. He is almost quivering with energy. It is a bit odd, I think, that though he is the one that disdains the hunt the most, it is he that is most affected by new blood. He practically vibrates, radiates with it. His embrace as he gets up behind me is amorous I can feel the still-sharp points of his teeth grazing my own neck lightly.
::We should hurry home, love,:: he says. ::The others are probably already asleep.::
::Oh, is that your main concern?:: I ask teasingly.
:: No.:: I can feel his smile against my skin.
I rev the engine. We are home soon.
My eyes are closed as I lay back on the bed. I can feel my lover moving over me, above me
The whisper of his skin against mine is a soft, midnight melody. This is music I would not share with anyone but him.
Quietly he sits in the moonlight streaming through his window. Tonight is for contemplation. The centuries stretch behind him, and, if he wishes, ahead of him. The moon is full, bright. It has not changed.
It is the same as the one he used to see above him so long ago He only wishes he could see it as he did then.
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