Deadly Thirst

September 9-Trixon

Most people actually wait for a certain time to go plowing into a battle. I don't, all I do is wait for my prey to come to me. However, this strategy doesn't always work. A lot of times, I have to go to them instead of them coming to me.

"How do you plan on getting Sita back?" Dyson has been training me over the past three days, teaching me all sorts of techniques on fighting and defense.

"I don't know, Dyson. All I know is that I have to get her back before they turn her like they did to Michael," I answer. I punch hard at Dyson, but he ducks and lands a roundhouse into my gut. I bend over my stomach, gasping for air. I knew Dyson was good at this, but damn!

"You need to learn to be quicker. You're supposed to be the fast one, remember?" He teases me and jabs at me, but I don't give in to his taunts and experience. Instead, I clench my teeth and growl at him. He laughs and luges again, this time landing a hook to the side of my face. Anger pulses through me, forcing me to attack. I run at him, tackling him to the ground. Dyson struggles to gain the upper hand but I land punch, after punch, after punch into his face, determined to end this right now. 

"STOP!" Dyson's voice rang throughout the house, echoing off of many walls. He is panting, blood dripping off his face into a small pool at his feet. "Enough, Trixon." 

I stare dumbfounded at my hands. I watch the blood trace many different tracks on my hands. An eerie calm washes over me and I wonder how much power I really have. The immense joy I had felt while pummeling Dyson was wonderful, and I've never felt anything like it. Well, maybe the aura I felt coming from Michael a few years ago, but he doesn't count anymore.

"Dyson, are you pissed at me?" I ask teasingly. I know he had been taunting me so I would do that, and it was fun! Never before had I felt the darkness that I hold so close like that. If anyone found out about it, I would become toast.

"Hell, no, boy! That is what you need to be doing! You need to attack, not giving them a chance to hit you. Pummel them like you did to me and you'll be just fine." Dyson claps me on the back and leads me towards the kitchen. "Most people can't do that. Remember that always, no matter what, you will always have someone rooting for you."

"But what if hey kill her, Dyson?" I whisper. I don't have to look up to know that he doesn't want to think bout that, doesn't want to say that his friends are going to be destroyed again. 

"She will stay alive, Trixon, that I'm dead serious about," Dyson pulls out a strip of jerky and starts chewing it. He gestures to the pile and I reluctantly take one. The second my teeth rip a piece off, my whole body feels like it's on fire.

"What the hell did you put in this?" I shriek. I claw at my throat, determined to rip it out. Dyson looks confused, as if what he had put in it wasn't meant to hurt me.

"Beef, corn mill, poppy seeds, and a little bit of blood, why?"

"It fucking burns, you motherfucking asshole!" I curse like there's no tomorrow, which in my case is probably true. I can feel my throat being scorched as I swallow down a glass of water.

"It shouldn't be burning you..." Dyson murmurs, shoving chairs and plates all over the place. When he found what he was looking for, he handed it to me: the jerky package. The symbol that is on the wax is an E and a C, the symbol of the England Court. Shit! Of course Jason would want me dead. 

"Get me some of that hibiscus honey, it will cancel out the poison," I shout to Dyson. He looks bewildered when I look up at him and I wonder what the hell is on my face. When he sees the look on my face, he runs to get the nectar from his hibiscus flower. My mom would put hibiscus nectar in her vaccine. When she first found out about Jason's plan to wipe out the whole supernatural population except for himself and a few others, she worked like crazy to make a vaccine for it. Dyson ran back into the room, dust all over his windbreaker. Of course, I pour the nectar down my throat and instantly the fire ceases. I grab my bags and stalk out the door. Jason already knows that I'm here, I have to leave. Too much stress. Jesus, why can't my life be easier than this shit?