Bloodbank

Twenty

First a hand, then a face peered around the door. By the impossibly light tone of the occupant's skin, and his hesitation in the sunlight, I immediately assumed that my luck had run out, that I had knocked on a vampire's door and that this was the end of the road for Scott and myself.

I stumbled back a little, out of his reach and into the sunlight, as Mason had done with me less than an hour prior, and I waited for him to attempt to grab me.

His arm lurched forwards, and I turned to run, until his white hand breached the shadows, sun illuminating transparent skin, and then nothing happened. I paused. And he beckoned inside, opening the door fully.

An audible sigh of relief involuntarily burst from my mouth, and I scurried inside. He closed the  door behind me as soon as I was on the other side of it.

"Are there vampires after you?" He asked, his voice low.

I nodded feverishly, taking in the surroundings.

The townhouse was quaint, one of those places that looks put together until your eyes lingered a moment too long, and then the cracks begin to show. Wood on the narrow staircase and banisters was splintered, the yellow stone of the floor was fractured, and the carpet that attempted to cover up the damage was frayed and unraveling. This was the house of a human.

I cleared my throat, attempting to dislodge the sand, "Do you have any food?"

The man nodded, and walked through a doorway into a small kitchen. I took a seat at the table, the soles of my feet seeming to ache more now that I was off of them. He opened a couple of cupboards, which were each half empty, and then placed some bread into a worn out toaster.

"It's stale, but once toasted you shouldn't be able to notice," he said.

"Thank you," I replied, observing him. His face appeared kind, warm brown eyes presumably studying me as I was him, dark curly hair framing his round features, stark against his skinny body. There was no sign of any tattoos that would mark him as property of the Bloodbank, and I adjusted myself to cover mine up. 

The toaster popped, and he presented me the toast on a chipped plate.

"My name is Henry," he said.

Between enormous bites of the brown, tasteless bread, I spluttered out, "Ebony."

I realised after a moment that despite not sharing any features with him, Henry's mannerisms reminded me of Nathan. I swallowed the dry food, and attempted to supress the feelings that thinking of Nathan regurgitated.

"I see you're from the Bloodbank," he gestured towards my tattoo, which I thought I had covered up but had only succeeded in bringing attention to, "is that where you're running from?"

I nodded, the truth too convoluted to explain.

"My.." he began, clearing his throat and then continuing, "my wife is there, did you see her? This high and blonde and wide brown eyes..."

I stopped listening after a moment, knowing for certain that I wouldn't remember who he was talking about. Once he had stopped and the silence was thick, I told him how I spent most of my time in isolation, away from the other prisoners.

He nodded solemnly, the little hope that had sparked in his eyes now diminished, "I tried to get myself taken with her, but I'm just a B positive."

I didn't quite know how to respond to him, so I merely stayed silent, not wanting to get involved with another person who would ultimately die. I had finished the toast now, and he took the plate and immediately started to wash it, searching for something to do to fill the awkward void.

A gust of wind drifted across the drawn curtains, the windows beyond them open to quell the stuffy atmosphere. Beside the window, my eyes landed on a black umbrella, and an idea flared.

"I have a friend who was also looking for a place to stay," I said, breaking the silence, "he has my supplies, including some blood we were going to trade. If you give us housing, you could share the profit?"

Henry nodded enthusiastically, and I got the feeling that I was the first human he had spoken to in some time. Feeling the edges of pity start to clutch me, I grabbed the umbrella and headed outside, back into the street.

*

The sun was just beginning to dip when I found the alleyway Scott was hunkering in. The shadows had moved slightly to the left with the passing of the sun, and Scott had moved with them, cowering beside the water pump. He didn't notice me at first, and I had to stoop down and lightly touch his shoulder for him to respond to me.

Upon recognising my sunburnt face, his mouth split into a smirk and he cupped my cheek, "I didn't think you'd come back."

"I found a house," I smiled, faltering slightly when I noticed that one of the blood sacs was empty. But it returned with full force. We could replenish our stocks.

Scott stood, and I opened the black umbrella, a canopy protecting us both from the harsh rays. He shouldered the bag of supplies, and we walked proudly through the neighbourhood I had stumbled through mere hours before.

As Scott was still struggling a little, and clearly in need of more blood, he leant on me as I guided him through the dusty streets. It was afternoon now, and they remained empty, meaning we could walk down the centre, black umbrella giving us the appearance of a two man funeral party. My footprints from an hour earlier, stepped over by mine going the other way, now mingled with Scott's larger feet. Before long we were at the doorstep, marked as different from its identical neighbours by a scrap of my shirt I had tied to the gate.

The door ajar from how I had left it, I stepped inside, closing the umbrella once Scott was covered to avoid bad luck. I closed the door.

"Henry?" I shouted into the empty house, "I'm back with my friend!"

Henry's face appeared from the kitchen, smiling at my reappearance, but it faltered as he laid eyes on Scott. His eyes roamed his burns, his impossibly pale skin, his piercing eyes.

"He's not one of us." Henry said.

"I know." I replied, stepping aside to allow room for Scott. I cupped his face in my hand, thumb lifting his lip to reveal his impressive canines. He tilted his head slightly, leaning into me, and I whispered, "I brought you a snack."

And Scott was on Henry before the final syllables had left my lips.

*AUTHORS NOTE*

that was exciting, i decided to give ebony some character development. good for her. scott is gonna need a lot of aftersun or he's gonna peel.

dont forget to comment its the highlight of my day (:

xoxox moist