My last suicide attempt

49

"Your mother's very decent," Xian noted. "She's clean, by the way. It is an improvement, is it not? You should be proud of her, Avni."

"I am," I sighed. "But this isn't about my mother, it's about you."

I gestured for him to follow me, and he did, keeping close behind. We exited the living room in time to see my mother pass by us, a smile intent on her lips. When she saw Xian and I walking up the stairs, she giggled.

"Use a condom!" she laughed.

I could hear Xian's snickers behind me, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring her and carrying on walking up the stairs. My mother's laugh began to fade, and all was quiet save for my footsteps and Xian's occasional chuckles to himself. I twisted the door handle on my bedroom door, and shoved it open, exposing the gently lit room.

I had turned on my bedside table lamp, and with the sun fully gone, the room was enlightened by a slight orange glow against the night creeping in from outside. I walked right in, glancing back at Xian, who was slowly, slowly walking in. He shut the door behind himself, and began glancing around, a faint smile on his lips as if he were proud of something...

I opened up my window, and almost instantly, a large gust of wind blew into my highly heated bedroom. The sky was already beginning to be painted with faint stars, the moon large and full ahead. I could see the town's lights, dots of different colours sprinkled across the horizon. Watching them for a little while, I sat on the windowsill and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as if that'd somehow keep me in one piece.

"I didn't know you played," I heard Xian said quietly behind me. I turned to look at him, to see him run a finger across all six strings of my acoustic guitar.

"My dad taught me how to play," I replied.

He carried on sliding his eyes across the guitar, a slight smile on his lips. He slowly crouched down onto his knees, looking at my rack of CD's, nodding his head every now and then. He stood up straight, and walked in my direction.

As he went past me, he nodded, his eyes on mine as he said, "You have a good taste in music... for a half-mortal."

I just rolled my eyes. After walking past me, his hand unmistakably brushing my waist, he moved to my dresser table, glancing at the pictures that sat atop it. He picked up a picture of my father and I on holiday in France, taken by my mother while we drank coffee.

"Is this him?" Xian asked.

"Yep."

"You have his eyes, you know." He looked up at me and nodded. "Definitely."

I smiled. "I'll take that as an open compliment, then."

He put the picture back where he found it, and went to my wall of memories. On which, lay tickets to all the gigs I'd ever been to, photos of my friends and I, pictures from my prom and all sorts. A bit of everything.

I sat on the windowsill watching Xian as he scanned them, his lips pulling up in a half-hearted smile. Eventually, however, it faded as he leaned against the wall on his shoulder facing me, his emerald eyes showing no emotion once more.

"Where have you been these past three weeks?" I mumbled cautiously.

"I had things to do," he said back coldly, blankly. "People to sort out."

"Is that the only explanation I'm going to get?" I asked, slightly annoyed. "You leave for three weeks without an explanation, expecting me to be okay about it all the while. And now you come back and tell me you 'had things to do' and you had 'people to sort out'. That's not an explanation, that's an excuse you should use on your girlfriend when you just spent the night with somebody else!" I growled. "Not that you should cheat on her anyway... But that's besides the god damn point!"

He c****d his head to the side, leaning it against the wall, watching me. The glow coming from my lamp made his eyes seem ablaze, and his hair seem somewhat darker, and the shadows under his eyes stand out.

"You were not okay with my absence?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Answer my question first." I shot back, my tone acidic.

He pondered that for a moment, and briefly getting closer until his cold icy breath tingled my nose, his eyes never left mine. So bright, so emerald, so alluring. It was silent between us as he weighed his answers, all the while his eyes grazing over my form sat on the windowsill.

"I was trying to keep the rogues away from here," he finally said. "Away from you. You don't know the things they want to do to you, princess. I had to do what I had to do, which included telling you not to follow me. I didn't do what I went out to do. In fact, I did the complete opposite. It's not over, Avni. It's never going to be over. They won't stop until they get you, and they're never going to get you. Not under my watch."

"What do they want with me? WHY do they want me?"

"They want to kill you. And as for why... I can't tell you. Not yet. One day, I swear I will tell you... just not today."

"Why the hell do you care so much?" I muttered. As soon as I'd said it, I wish I hadn't. I didn't really want to hear the answer, but I got one anyway.

"I never said I cared," he replied hesitantly. "But you have a job to do for me. Remember? I need you around to help us put a stop to the rogues."

"Is that the stupid favour you wanted me to do?"

"No." he smirked at me. "That favour's something completely different. And no, I won't tell you that either. Not yet."

"So I'm just bait for your plan so YOU can be happy?" I said quietly, mockingly, emphasising the 'you' in my sentence - this was for his own happiness. What would happen to me when this was over? Would he leave me to fend for myself once I've been 'trained'?

I turned my head away from him so he wouldn't see my eyes water with tears I should never shed. Not over something as stupid as being used for a vampire. But that was how this started out, wasn't it? Being used for a vampire's needs?

I got no reply. Letting my tears fall silently without sobs, I watched as rain began to fall across Southampton, shattering the hard silence between Xian and I. Finally, I brought my head up after subtly wiping away what was left of the tears, to see Xian lying on my bed staring up at my white-wash ceiling, scowling. I didn't know how long he'd been lying there, but he was frozen, not moving a single inch.

I got off of the windowsill, and stared at him. I began to walk around my bed, but was stopped. I jumped when I stumbled straight into his chest, and when I looked up at him, there was something about his eyes seemed menacing, his smirk evil and twisted. My instincts screamed at me to move away from him, but before I knew it, my back collided with the wall and a rippling pain shot up my spine.

Groaning, I was about to move away, but he was there, his chest against mine, his eyes on mine, his hands on either side of my head. I couldn't move, because he was everywhere I looked. He was all I could hear in the deathly silence, his breathing, his whispers, his hands tapping the wall by my head. I didn't know if I was breathing, because for a minute, I didn't know how to.

He certainly wasn't breathing.

His hands moved to my cheeks, the tips of his fingers slowly moving up so he could press his index and middle finger gently to my temples. I stared up at him as he leaned down, pressing his forehead on mine again, his nose touching mine. A sudden shock of pain ran through my body, forcing me to close my eyes. But when I did so, I could see it - barbed wire connecting mine and Xian's minds together, weaving through our heads, our memories, painfully scarring each and every thought in our heads until they became one.

His mind in mine, and mine elsewhere, I could see it all. His memories, all of those seductive whispers he'd ever said to girls, all the feelings it felt to withdraw blood from exposed throats.

Every thought he'd ever had... mine.

+ + +

To kill somebody you do not know, perhaps it makes you feel a little more numb, a little more soothed from the life you lead. To kill somebody you know, maybe it can make you feel relieved. Like a weight has been lifted, yet your chest has been torn apart if it be a friend, and the numbness will soon settle. To kill somebody you love dearly, your family, all you can think about is how much it hurts. But even then, it never truly is the pain. The hurt you feel shies away from the surface, or at least masks itself from you, intertwining the pain with a numbness that you can only succumb to.

Anybody and everybody would kill to enfold into the tempting dark numbness that could only be the aftermath of death…

~

It hurt to have my thoughts pried forcefully from my own head. It hurt very, very much. The barbed wire was scorching hot and I could feel it frying against the memories of mine I so wished not to share with Xian…

In his mind, however, I could see it all. I felt like I was seeing the whole universe, just locked up inside his mind. The icy cold thoughts of his prey on nights out, the warm sensation when the blood filled his body, it was so… so…

Beautiful.

But when the blurs, the chains of thoughts slowed down… what I saw… what I saw, it broke my heart. It burned in my stomach, it tortured my sights.

- - - - - - - - - -

“How do you feel, brother?” George asked him. He looked up at his older brother stood in front of him in a tuxedo and a smile on his face, despite his knowledge. Yes, George knew all about him and his needs. About him and his monstrous transformation. And yet, George had not left his side. Always caring, always helping as much as he could.

He sighed. “Tired.”

“Is there much a-do I may help you with?” George asked with concern. “I can go by the blood bank if needed?”

He shook his head. “You have done enough, George. I acquire no more from you. Not now, not ever. And I can only thank you for all you have done, including not telling father about me. You have kept me safe for so long. Too long, perhaps.”

“It is my job, is it not? We be brothers by blood, therefore I belong by your side for as long as it may be required.”

“I wish not to lose you.” He sighed deeply. “However, I wish not to damn you to this eternal hell I have caused upon myself.”

George moved closer and put a hand upon his shoulder. “When I go, dear Stich, I will go with triumph forever inside of me for all you have done. I am proud of you, brother, despite what your thoughts may be. If I was not abnormally proud to call you my blood, my brother, would I be here?”

He smiled. “No. I suppose not.”

“I certainly would not!” George smiled. “As said many times before, I will never leave your side. Not until you order me soberly to do so. Now, fix yourself up, boy! We have a ball to attend to!”

“You will get me out, if I need to George, won’t you?” he asked nervously. “I wish not to harm anybody.”

“The night is still young, Stich, you shall be on my sights always this evening. Yes, if needed, we will run.” George’s voice was suddenly grew quiet. “We can run together, if you wanted. I shall run with you… away, if you wanted. We do not need father and his ways.”

“I am not the type of company you wish to keep, brother.” He replied sombrely. “As you said anyway, we must go, the night may still be young but the Michealce had started long ago, did it not?”

George nodded slowly, his lips curved up in a secret smile at his brother. They both fixed themselves up, and together descended down the stairs as high authority, highly ranked and highly spoke of. The marble floors were imprinted with the slight footprints of a thousand people all entering the ballroom ahead.

The golden doors swung open, revealing the large room. The scene before them was magnificent; the floors stone and reflecting the images of the swirling people Michealcing as one, the golden outlines of the room and stairs they had yet to proudly walk down were shining brightly, reflecting the light given off of the chandeliers above them Rabifully.

“Sir George,” A man said to his brother. “You are needed upon your father’s orders. Do you wish to attend to his needs, or would one rather stay with Sir Stich?”

George glanced at him. He nodded, and George was soon gone from his side. With a sigh, he descended the marble stairs alone, the golden banisters slightly colder under his skin as his hand brushed across it. At the bottom, awaited a girl in a midnight blue dress, half her face covered by a mask that matched her dress. When he glanced around, sure enough, every woman in the room was masked.

“Will you be mine tonight, Mr. Harryson?” She asked him lightly.

“I will be, yes.” He replied, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his side. Together they walked, his eyes everywhere on the humans surrounding him as he held the vamperic girl close.

Yes, for she was his maker, his lover, his reason to be damned.

“How do you feel, Stich?” She asked him as she turned to face him so they could Michealce. He took her hand in his and put an arm around her waist again, as she set her hand upon his shoulder delicately.

“Fiery,” he replied. “I feel as though I am on fire. It hurts, but it is manageable… for now.”

Her long blonde hair was curled down just after her slender shoulders. Her eyes were a bright blue that he could only fall into every time they met his own eyes, and her lips were painted blood red, pulled up in a smile against her pale skin.

“I believe in you.” She whispered in his ear. He leaned down and caressed her cheek with a kiss, and she smiled up at him as he drew away. Together they Michealced, spinning, locked together. Every so often, George would cast him a slight nod just to ensure he was safe.

The clock was two minutes away from touching midnight, the ticking endurable yet heard throughout the ballroom. Laughter and conversations had filled the air, the silence broken long ago. He was cast aside with his maker, who stood with him, her hand clasped in his.

“They say,” she said, her voice flowing gently, music to his ears. “That it is wrong to be with a creature of the night at midnight, because this is the hour they are most hungry. Do you think this is true, my love?”

“Possibly,” he replied. “It is often the time I long for George’s blood when he comes to see if I be all right, and it is also the time when he feeds me the most blood at any one time. I think George believes it to be true… but me? I am not so sure. Maybe it is the thirst building up unconsciously during the day. I do not know.”

“Your George is very wise, is he not?” She said with affection.

“Yes. My George is very wise indeed.” He confirmed, subtly using emphasis on the ‘my’ to imply George be nobody else’s but his. “I wish not to lose him, but I shall do nothing of the sort as to damn him like we.” He repeated the same words he had said to George earlier.

“Do you think of this as a curse, my love?”

“More often or not, yes.” Was all he replied, before she left him with a kiss, and not a word more.

He was not stood alone for long before George came to stand by his side, a smile deeply set in his giddy face. His emerald eyes were bright, and his dark hair was disarray, untidy for George.

“It is nearly midnight, brother,” George said quietly. “Do you wish to go by the blood bank just in case? It has been a day since you have eaten, I do not wish to enMichealger anybody here just as you do.”

“We shall leave for the blood bank in just minutes, George, however first I must find my mistress.” He said with concern. George nodded, and without any further a-do, he left his brother alone to go and find her.

He frantically pushed through the crowds, but the midnight blue dress was nowhere in his sights, nor was her golden blonde hair. Eventually, all the forms of humans were becoming a blur to him, and the fire inside of him was growing. His head was spinning and he could taste the poisonous venom coating around his retracted fangs, the predator within awakening.

“So much… blood…” the voice in his head purred.

No. Don’t do this to George. He couldn’t…

“So many hearts…”

Don’t do this…

“So many throats…”

Don’t do…

“So… many…”

Don’t…

“HUMANS!”

He slyly ascended back up the marble steps to the golden doors. He slammed them shut, catching the attention of everybody as he locked the door loudly, making the sound echo throughout the ballroom.

He turned around again, facing the room to see everyone looking up at him with shocked faces… confused faces. Everybody but George, who looked frantic.

“Do not do this, brother!” George shouted up at him.

“It is in my nature,” He whispered back. “It is in my nature to kill. I told you, George that I was not the good company to keep, did I not?”

“But I said we shall leave for the blood bank! You delay me, brother! Do not bring this upon yourself! Unlock the doors, and I will help you quench this feeling as I have done many times before! We will do this together, Stich!”

“Blood bank? What does he mean blood bank?” Somebody asked.

“I don’t understand – he said it be in his nature to kill?” Someone else said.

“VAMPIRE!” Someone else screamed. “GET THE HUNTERS!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I cannot let you do so.”

With that, he flitted down the steps, Rabifully snapping the necks of everybody he passed as he weaved throughout the room. When finished, he slowly, slowly drained the bodies of all blood left in their system, the warmth spreading quickly as the beast was both descending and ascending inside his mind. Wanting more, but yet getting what he wanted in the first place – the blood of a thousand. And yet, throughout all of the people he drank from, the girl he loved so dearly was not one.

She had gone, once again, for all eternity no doubt.

The room became eerily silent, the blood of the ones he had once loved smeared on the floor, the warm, metallic taste lingering in his throat. He slowly looked up from a young girl’s throat, eyes scanning the room for more. He dropped her limp corpse on the pile of people that lay at his feet, and began to walk across the room.

The monster finally retreating, he gained his sanity back, unaware of all the need, the thirst that had overtaken him as the clock struck midnight. Chiming loudly throughout the entire ballroom, he stared at the people surrounding him, limp corpses on the floor bathed in their own blood, confused as to what had just happened.

“George!” He bellowed, sinking to his knees at his brother’s body. He lay there, his throat exposed with a large chunk missing from it, his eyes staring straight ahead, his lips as white as his skin.

Dead.

The last words George had ever spoken to him echoed in his head over and over, as the tears he – as a vampire – should not be so weak to cry rolled uncontrollably down his cheeks.

“We will do this together, Stich!”

- - - - - - - - - -

I gasped and fell to my knees, breaking the barbed wire forcefully. Coughing and coughing, I clutched my chest as if that would stop my heart from hurting as much as it did right at that precise moment. The monster so greedy, the monster so careless had killed Xian’s brother, and Xian himself did not even know it.

Everything hurt. I didn’t know why, but every muscle in my body ached, every bone felt as though it had been broken, and the pain was unbearable. I felt everything he did; the need and urge to drink, the unbelievable heart-shattering pain when he realised what he had done…

Slowly, I began to weep as Xian stood before me, looking down at me with hard eyes.

“I know what you saw.” He said coldly. “I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to see what you are going to become, because I do not want you to do the same to your mother and friends as I so carelessly did to my brother.”

Gasping for breath, I couldn’t reply, so I just looked up at him.

“Just let me teach you how to be a decent vampire. If you refuse me any longer, I will leave you as I was left, and you will do what I did. I’m trying to help, and you deny it. Just let me help. For once, just listen to what I say.” he had crouched down to my level, his emerald eyes hard, emotionless. “Your fate is unknown, Avneet Jackson. You are wanted by so many for the same reason, and you don’t even know it. You hold within you so much – perhaps even too much – power. Your predicted future is immortality, yes, but there is another option. It’s a choice that not you, not anybody can control. But… just let me in. Let me in to your life, Avni, let me help you before you hurt or even kill those around you.”

Still crying, gasping and choking, whimpering in the process, I nodded. Xian nodded back, but soon clenched his jaw, as if he were angry.

“Somebody will be round an hour before dawn to pick you up tomorrow.” With that, Xian was gone, leaving me with nothing but a fried brain, tortured images and his icy words that lingered in the air for company in the pitch black night.

+ + +