Act One: Dark Disorder, Part One
Blood trickled down his neck, illuminated by the light of the neon signs that surrounded him. He never knew that it would get that far, that dangerous. He should have known, but how could he? He’s not psychic. He can’t predict scenes like that taking place. It’s a scary thought, thinking that they existed and finding out for a fact that they did. Also losing something precious to him, his heart, his blood, and ultimately, his soul …
The streets seemed dark to him, not of the sense of light, but of a sense of feeling. People and creatures lurking in every corner. Homeless people browsing the streets and alleys for places to sleep and to find warmth. Sad, really. Depressing. But they don’t know of the constant darkness that lurks behind them, feeding on them knowing that no one would really care. To everybody else, they were just drunks with no homes, stories with no happy endings. But to certain vampires, they’re breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even a snack if you will. Should he warn them? No. To him, they have nothing to live for, it just doesn’t matter if they live or die.
So he walked the dark streets, knowing that the sun would come up in a couple hours, rambling to himself the same thing over and over again …
“And as always, innocent like roller coasters. Fatality is like ghosts in snow and you have no idea what you’re up against. Because I’ve always seen what they look like. Becoming perfect as if they’re sterling silver chainsaws going cascading …”
The rain started to gently fall, and with each step his Converse were quickly drenched. Trailing through the rain on an empty road, the gray snow formed a sheet of ice over the city streets. The wind blew, throwing scattered raindrops at him, hitting his face, his hair, and his body. If he were like any other normal person, he would shiver and try to get home faster. But he was not like anyone else anymore. Complete silence. The only sound was the grunge music ringing in his ears from the dirty rock club down the street.
But he walked. Drenched in the rain and with blood shot eyes. Shocked and in a trance with what had just happened, and His jet black hair hanging in his face not wanting to be seen. Just a shadow on edge.
As the rain dripped down his scalp and fell on his neck, the blood was wiped clean. His mind was so set on everything that was happening around him, that he forgot about the wounds that pierced his neck. He pulled up his hood and a thin red stripe could easily be seen on his pale skin a few blocks away. His black tee shirt clung to his pale body, as did his jeans to his legs.
He couldn't feel the ice cold chill of the air any longer, numbed by his sickness. Just stared at the side walk below his feet, the cold wet concrete that lay before him.
A sudden misstep and he slipped on the frost-caked sidewalk. As his jeans darkened and oozed blood around his knee. He sat up against a red brick wall of a rundown apartment building.
Tears rolled down his pale cheeks, it was the warmest and only touch he'd felt since he felt her comforting corpse. "But she was dead now," he thought. Her eyes were stained gray and lifeless, vacant of color. He sat there on the ground inhumed in his own thoughts, feeling so weak so helpless, “And as always, innocent like roller coasters...” He began mumbling again; he paused, and cocked his head to the left, hearing the swift sound of foot steps grow closer and louder. He hastily came to his feet and started walking, running almost, away from the figure.
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