Bite Me

Chapter 2

She's at me in a second. Her fingernails are sharp like steel, red claws coming at my throat. She sees my gun, but she doesn't see my other hand tighten against the cool leather of my whip. She's on me, and I hold her back with one arm, the same one holding the gun. She takes it out of my hand and shoots me in the head at point-blank range.

The sound isn't as loud as a regular gun, but it makes quite the sound nonetheless. She doubles back, the force of the pistol repelling her backwards. I stand up and brush myself off, and she stares at my head where the bullet hole should be.
Somewhere, in the background of our fight and our blood, I hear a dish fall and shatter onto the ground. It's not as loud as the gun, but it rebounds into the silence like a bomb, and we stand there panting, staring at each other. Her breath is haggard, and her red eyes meet mine.

"How?" She gasps.

The gun is still in her hands, but I can see the blisters forming. She drops it. The flesh on her hand is now red and raw, and she looks at it and snarls.
"You!-"

She lunges at me once again, a flurry of fists and hair and by this point, I can barely see her anymore. Outside I hear voices. Shit. Someone heard us. 
She's almost on me again when I pull out my whip and crack it. It's a loud, awful sound, and it scares the hell outta her.

I crack it again, and this time it hits her on the arm, drawing some blood. She hisses at me. Her eyes are glowing, not with power but with rage, pure hatred and pure anger. She thinks I hurt her. She doesn't know what pain is. She begins to back away into the door leading to the rest of the motel. She starts running, and I chase her. She's well ahead of me, but the stairs she climbs are wrecked with mould and water damage, and her foot falls through. I hear the front door open, and the voice of the truck driver calls a name.

She yells, more out of anger than pain. I stalk slowly to where she is stuck, at the very top of the stairs. I crack my whip menacingly, and I kneel down to her level. Her breath is loud and haggard, and her skin is cold. But her eyes? They're on fire.
"I'm going to suck you dry, Huntress. You'll be nothing but a husk, an homage to the death of humanity, nothing but-" 

With one finger, I close her mouth. I hold down her jaw with my palm, and I look straight at her. My whip is still in my hand, and with that same hand,

I caress her cheek as she struggles against both my grip and the floorboards. 
"I don't think so. You will be an homage to the last of a filthy, dying breed. Once I kill you, you'll just be part of a forgotten history. Understand?" 

Footsteps and the sound of the same name being called growing closer.
I back away, and she opens her mouth once again, free from my grip. I crack my whip again, and this time it hits her with a death blow. Her face is bloodied just as the trucker comes in and stares at me in disbelief.

"I knew you were trouble, you-"

He stops as he watches her body grow old in front of his eyes. The recently dead skin ages at a valid pace, centuries of life taking its toll on her corpse. Her cheeks and eyes sink into her skull, and she's almost grey by this point. Her hair falls out in clumps and disintegrates onto the floor.

The trucker backs away.
"What the fucking hell...?"

He stumbles over a broken floorboard, most likely that had fallen during our fight.

He looks years older, which is what sometimes happens the first time a person sees a vampire. It fades within the hour, however.

"She's a vampire. Or, she was. I killed her. And now you're going to take me to New York."

He scoffs. 
"Or what? You'll shoot me?"

I crack my whip, just to scare him a bit.
"I wasn't scared of her. Do you think that I'll be scared of you?" 

He backs away from me, fear in his eyes. I would never kill a mortal not affiliated with vampires, but sometimes bending morality into little white lies is necessary.

I climb down the stairs and level myself with him. I push past him into the main room and pick off my gun from the floor. Its usual silver sheen has been replaced by the metallic smell of the blood that so heavily coats it. My arm hurts where the Vampire had scratched me, and I know that if I don't do something fast I wouldn't be here very long. 

"Get your truck. You're driving me to the nearest town," I growl at the man. He doesn't protest as I cock my gun at his forehead. It won't do anything to him, but it's better if he thinks it will.
He starts to go through the front, but I stop him.

"Go through the back," I say.

"But there ain't anyone-"

"The back."

I shoot at the wall, and she immediately flinches and covers his ears. He's gone in a second, and I follow him out. The morning sun is already hitting the barren landscape that stretches on for miles. Somewhere, I think I hear an eagle cry, but it's interrupted by the sound of his truck approaching.

I climb in, and he begins to speak.
"My name's -"

I wave my hand at him dismissively.
"I don't care." 

He seems taken aback by my answer, but he continues our drive in silence.
I think about how soon enough I'll be in New York, and I'll finally find her. I'll finally find one of the last daughters of the Dracula bloodline, and I'll eradicate her. She doesn't deserve to walk this earth, even as a reanimated corpse. I'll get rid of her.
Lilith, you'll never know what hit you. Not until you realize it was my whip