Daimon, DANIELLE BOLGER [read my book .txt] 📗

in the works, don't you?” He brushed my hair behind my ear. “It's okay, Kev will look after you now.”

He started to turn but I gripped onto his shirt. He faced me again.

“Ryan, that man, is he...” I considered my words for a moment. “The fifteenth victim?”

He opened his mouth as to say something then closed it once more. When he finally spoke, he chose his words very carefully. “There's been a new victim, yes. You'll know all the details when an official statement is made. I've got to go now and so do you. If you don't leave now, I won't be able to protect you and you'll be stuck in lock-up for trespassing an active crime scene. You don't want that, now do you?”

I shook my head meekly.

“Good. Go on then, Kev will look after you from here.” He stared at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for a response. I nodded. “Good. Take care, Jane.” Ryan walked off.

“Don't look so glum,” Kevin cheered. “You’re in my capable hands now.”

I turned and looked back at the man cradling me warmly in his arms. I wanted to smile back at him, but leaning against his chest made me acutely aware of his heartbeat and I felt like crying again. He sensed my unrest and brought me to my feet, guiding me away from the site. A last glance revealed burned out candles and large quantities of blood deposited on the stone and streaked across leaves and tree trunks. Oh, God, what was mine and what did I spill? What kind of monster have I become, to kill a man in cold blood like that? He was only trying to help me!

“Don't look at it,” Kevin whispered as he led me away. “Some things are best to be read, or written about, only.”

I looked deep into Kevin's face for the first time as we ventured alone through the forest. His fiery red hair was as passionate as ever and his perfectly straight teeth gleamed luxuriously. His lips were also engorged, plush with blood. That same blood thumped in a shallow artery in his neck, driven by an internal rhythm. He looked delectable.

I, hurriedly, tore my eyes away from him, afraid that another moment indulging such features may lead to a recurrence of that wretched undead creature that appeared moments ago before my eyes.

“Hey, it's okay, Jane. Don't worry. We're well away from that scary place. It's just you and me now.”

My stomach growled.

“Sorry, and your stomach, too.” Kevin laughed. “Wow, I didn't think you would have had much of an appetite after that.”

I did have an appetite.

Kevin rubbed behind his neck. “If you like, I could probably escape Detective Ryan's command for a while and take you out to lunch. Would you like that?”

There was only one thing I felt like consuming.

Kevin continued talking to me; I heard the words but all I could think about was my hunger and my sudden realization of how to fulfill it. His neck pulsated so tenderly, so temptingly.

What am I thinking? I can't indulge in that. What would I do— throw a man that weighs one and a half times my body weight to the ground, rip into his chest and tear out his heart? No, it’s not even possible. I don’t have the strength for that and I would be thrown into lockup instantly. Everyone would be disgusted with me and I would be considered insane. Oh, how I long for a taste…

“Hey, Jane, hear that ruckus? That's the blood-sucking reporters we're approaching. You wouldn't happen to be friends with any of them, would you?”

The discord of the street was clearly audible, had been for some time, and I was not looking forward to listening to any more of it. Regardless, I was upon it before I knew what hit me. I envisioned ripping out each one of their hearts and devouring them whole.

What the hell are you thinking? I screamed inside my head. I was beginning to think that if I could not get my thoughts under control, I would have to commit myself to a mental institution before any further damage could be done. That, or turn myself in to the police.

As we entered the street, Kevin finally released me. “So, did you drive or would you like a lift?”

Before I could reply Sandra suddenly appeared in front of me. “Jane! What the hell happened to you this time? You disappeared ages ago. There was this scream, and when I realized you weren't back yet I started to think that maybe it was you. Please tell me you haven't wound up in another drama.”

“What? A scream?” Kevin cut in. “Oh, that's right, one of the new officers thought she saw a brown snake. I know, right? Freaking out about a snake at a crime scene? I guess it is the bush and those suckers are everywhere. We looked all around for it, but couldn't find it. Probably crawled into a hollowed tree-trunk or something. In our search, I found Jane trying peer over the edge of the tape. Of course, you lot are meant to stay on the road, so I thought I'd best escort her back so she didn’t get lost again. Are you okay now, Jane?”

I had to smile at his gallantry. “Yes. Sorry for taking up your time, officer.”

“Hang-on!” Sandra slipped in. “I know you.” She thought a moment. “Yeah, Kevin… Deverall. You were one of Jane's brother's friends.”

Kevin laughed. “You got me. Jack and I became mates when we started the force at the same time. Here, I can instantly recognize you as Jane's little friend, Sandra.”

“Little. Hmph.” Sandra pouted. “Well, good work. Thanks for bringing her back. We'll be outta your hair from here.”

“Actually, I offered to buy Jane some lunch. I'm feeling in a charitable mood, so I suppose I could extend my kindness to a tag-along as well.”

“Tag-along?” Sandra spat the words, then shut her mouth promptly. She battered her eyes cutely in the way that only she could. “Bah, I forgive you. Free food it is.”

“I'm not going,” I whispered, breaking my companions' chatter.

“What do you mean you're not going?” Sandra demanded. “The kind gentleman is offering us a free lunch. It would be the height of rudeness to reject. Of course we're going.”

“No, Sandra,” I continued in a quiet, yet resolute, voice. “I don't feel like eating anything,” I lied.

“Well, I don't know how you're going to get back to the Horizon without a car.”

“I'll call a taxi.”

“Jane, don't be daft, just come with us and I promise you'll feel better with something in your belly.”

“I said I'm not going!” I snapped.

“Jane, do you want to go home?” Kevin asked.

I could hear both their heartbeats so acutely at that time, slightly offbeat. Kevin's was performing at a slighter faster pace than Sandra's, but both held their individual rhythms so precisely. “Yes, Kevin. I just want to be alone. Let me go home. It's so noisy here, I can't think.”

Sandra glowered, but Kevin held only compassion. “Sure, I'll take you home.” He turned to Sandra, failing, to restrain a broad grin. “Sandra, I'll still shoot you. Can't have someone as skinny as you disappearing if I can help it.”

Sandra continued to observe me speculatively, and then responded, incredulous, “Me disappear? Please, I've put on weight. There's no chance of that.”

“You've put on weight? Since when, your birth?”

“No.” Sandra giggled. “Well, yes of course. I mean since, uh, the last month or so. I have kind of been indulging, but I'm back on track now. I'll tell you what, though,” she winked, “let me drop off this piker and we'll hitch up.”

Relieved to have been granted the prospect of my own solitude once more, I tuned out of their conversation. Struggling to shut out my newly attuned senses and my own monstrous desires, I concentrated on clearing my mind. As Sandra drove me home, I sat in silence. She tried a few times to start a conversation, mostly to pick my mind on what I saw, but I only responded with a few short, vague responses. I noticed her sullenly throw glances my way, but I cared little for what thoughts transpired through her mind. All I could care about was trying not to care: not to care about how incredible the revisited memory felt; not to care about how much I liked watching evil me so proudly holding the still-beating heart in her hand.

The more I thought about it, the more desirable my friend looked, in the most demonic way. No, I wouldn't be that creature! I'd rather be nothing—a vegetable, dead—than such a vicious thing.

Maybe you are both, dead and monster—A zombie that crawled out of her place of rest. A malicious voice speculated in my mind.

Eventually, we arrived at the curb to my house. As I opened the front door, Sandra sung out, “Jane, is that it? You're not even going to say goodbye?”

“See you, Sandra. I'll talk to you later,” I replied as I walked through the threshold.

“Jane, you're really worrying me. I don't think you're okay. Do you want me to stay and we can talk? I can help you if you're in some kind of trouble.”

Listening to her heart increase its pace, and watching how excited the pulsating area on her neck had become, I had to look away so that she would not see my tears. “I really need to be alone now, Sandra. Please, just let me be alone.”

She sensed my desperation. “Okay, we'll talk later, but call me if you need anything.”

Still turned away from the car, I nodded and closed the door behind me.

****

When I entered my home, I was finally given respite from my simultaneous monstrous and succulent temptations. However, as I peered at the discord in which I’d left my house, the tenuous hold on my emotions finally lost its grip and silent tears transformed into powerful sobs.

Why did this have to happen to me? What am I? What kind of monster have I become? A human heart? Could I really have...eaten that?

Weeping profusely now, I crumbled to the tiled floor of the foyer with a thump. I saw a vague image of myself in the shiny surface; only, it was not quite me. It was that demon-girl. Flawless white skin, shiny dark-brown hair and eyes that held pupils so large that no color could be seen to them. There were black streaks down my cheeks, as if mascara carried down from my eyes, but I was not wearing any makeup. I brought a hand to this fluid and examined my hostile black tears.

Curling my fist, I punched through the image of the monster-girl. My effort broke the tile, leaving behind a fist-sized indent in cold gray concrete. My knuckles had small shards of the tile embedded in them. I plucked each of these out, starting to struggle to see through the oil leaking from my eyes. Blinking it away, I took a closer look at my hand—there was blood on it, but no wound could be found as its source.

“What am I?” I sobbed, shaking my head in confusion. “How did my hand heal itself just now? That chest wound in the forest, that healed, too.” I placed a hand on my chest and was mildly comforted by the thumping. “My heart, he stole it, but then after I ate...” I gulped suddenly realizing the connection. “The man's heart healed me last night and it makes me strong now. I would have been dead if I didn't have it. That man, Valentine, he cut out my heart which made me need...” I could not finish the sentence out loud but my mind did not shy away from the words—I need human hearts to survive.

I didn't want to believe it, but I knew it had to be true. Like a child craving sweets to provide the energy necessary for growth, I craved hearts to satisfy my own physical requirements.

“No!” I screamed out loud. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't. I wasn't a murderer, much less this monster. “No, I would rather starve!”

I stared at the broken tile in front of me. Gathering the pieces, I tried to rearrange them back into their original positions. With a little glue, I could fix it; return it to normal. Sure it would always be cracked, but it would be a tile once more and that cold concrete underneath would be covered up. I could hide the damage to the world. It could work; I could fix it.

I ran to the garage, snatched some glue from the handy shelf and dashed back to the front. I hurriedly squeezed the adhesive from the bottle. It was a little viscous since it had not been used in years, but runny enough that it was workable. I replaced and stuck down every single piece. I fixed it. The cracks were displayed in an obvious spider-like design and the pieces were terribly uneven with gross amounts of excess glue, but the concrete was covered. So long as the tile shards remained, the cold gray foundation was invisible to the world.

Satisfied that one error was corrected, I turned my attention to the rest of the house. This meant sweeping and mopping the rest of the tiled floor with a strong mixture of detergent, vinegar, and