Chosen

Chapter 8- Escaped

A/N: work 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 it 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 Danielle 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽

I kick a nearby pebble, mumbling profanities to myself. The anger has only subsided slightly.

"I may not have vampire senses but I can still hear you cursing the living hell out of Daniel." Jenn says. I turn around and glare at her. How dare she say that vile name?

"Oops, sorry, forgot." She smiles sheepishly, holding onto her shoulder wound. One of the damn royal guards cut her with a spear while we were escaping. That was 20 minutes ago. I can still taste his blood on my teeth.

I feel my fist clench up, "I should've gave him a more painful death."

She shakes her head. "I'm pretty sure what you did was enough." She says, laughing.

Maybe that's true, I wouldn't know though. All I did was rip a few of his limbs off and feed off of him. Not as severe as it would usually be if they dared to touch Jenn. I may have killed her hairdresser for burning her once, or twice. Doesn't matter to me.

Honestly, I don't understand how she puts up with me. Killing for me is practically a profession, and she knows that. She still stays with me, not even for a second scared about me ever attempting something.

I remember the first day we met.

4 Years Ago:

I bring their neck up to my mouth, letting my fangs rest in it. The girl screams out loud, making me laugh in the inside.

Does she really expect anyone to hear her? I've murdered everyone in this small department store, the proof being the bodies lying around us. No one's helping her now.

I listen to her heartbeat, noticing how it's slowing down by the second.

Finally, it completely stops, and my meal is finished.

I let her drop on the floor and lick the remaining blood off my fingers.

"Whoa, you certainly had some fun." A voice says from behind.

I lick my lips, excited for another snack.

A petite blonde stands near one of the decaying bodies, amused at the view. She definitely can't be human; mundanes would scream and pass out at the sight.

"Yeah, and it looks like I'm about to have some more."

Before I can move, a stake is flying right over my heart, moving closer and closer.

I slowly walk back, pressing my back against the wall. The wood hovers closer, piercing the shirt over my chest.

Shit. I'm dead.

I'd like to thank my mother and father for giving birth to me, Erik for showing me true humanity, all of my victims for sustaining me. A special thanks to Matthew from Los Angeles for making my nights special.

It stops abruptly.

The witch's eyebrows furrow in confusion. She flicks her wrist, trying to throw the stake in my chest again. It doesn't move an inch.

"Well I can't kill you, so the universe is obviously trying to tell us something. Let's be friends." She suggests.

So not just a witch, also clinically insane.