Bikes & Blood

𝐗𝐗𝐈.

"In the end everything collides, my childhood spat back out the monster that you see."
-My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark, Fall Out Boy

David

The sun descended beneath the crashing waves of Santa Carla and in its wake; the moon gilded across the twilight sky, bringing with it the silvery-white stars that smattered the sky like paint on a canvas. Saline encrusted wind blew through the coastal town, eliciting an unusual chill across the bright and lively lowlands with unforgiving ferocity.

Moisture hung thickly in the howling wind as though a storm loomed on the horizon; brewing above the white-capped sea below Hudson's Bluff, colliding against the rocky cliff face with a deafening rumble. Leaves rustled, flapping in the unrelenting gales that whisked the breaking of a family bond to the tree line ghosting a large lodge-like house.

Glacier-blue irises followed Amara's silhouette through the lounge room and kitchen windows, predatory interest churning within his eyes as relentlessly as the waves crashing against the shoreline of Santa Carla-analysing every little movement the bay-haired girl made. Clouds obscured the flawless sky, plunging the darkening world into a deeper, grey hue that masked the stark snow-whiteness of hair in the tree line.

David shifted the weight of his body to his thighs, adjusting his gloved grip on the tree branch above his head with the ease of a tiger stalking its prey. The simple, thin leather ribbon attached to his earring brushed his face, anchoring him in amongst the thick branches of an oak tree. Cloaked in the darkness and his black trench coat, David tucked the flapping lapel tightly to his charcoal-grey shirt, dislodging the tail of his coat from beneath his boots with little thought; obsidian-black fabric brushing against his black jean-clad legs with the howling of the wind.

"How long have you known about them?"

David angled his head, tearing his gaze from his clothes as Michael's venomously spat words drifted across the night and to his ears. Bitter resentment seared his chest, reminding him of memories that he'd rather forget with startling clarity. His jaw clenching with poorly restrained anger, grip tightening on the branch above with enough force that it groaned in protest.

David knew he shouldn't be here, but the darkly malicious side of him drew him to the house of his nightmares-torturing him in more ways than one as agonised bellows of pain filled his mind. An agony he could never wash from his mind. Not that he wanted to, because, in some sick way, he needed those pain-filled screams to remind himself of his vow.

He could admit to himself that he'd made several mistakes twenty-five years ago that stemmed from the soil-brown-haired man in the moonlit sunroom. Mistakes he vowed to never make again. And maybe that's why he'd listened to the siren's call that brought him to the oak tree.

"Depends on what you mean by that, Michael."

David's lips twitched with faint bemusement. His keen irises honing in on Michael as the brunette bristled at the usage of his name. The muscles in his back coiled, tensing with unchecked resentment as Michael levelled an unimpressed glare at Amara. David knew that the way Amara had spoken his name reminded Michael of him-terrorising him with nothing but mere memories.

And something within David stirred at the sight, thrilled at the effect he had on Michael even after all these years, reflecting in the crumpled ash-grey shirt and denim jeans covered by a thin dusting of dirt that he wore. His brown curls mused from the many times he'd raked his fingers through his hair as a contemplative silence swept across the house.

Michael's voice broke the silence, confusing the platinum-blonde who lurked in the shadows. "They're itchy, aren't they?"

David's gaze darted from Michael and to Amara, scrutinising her from beneath the canopy of leaves as his baby-blue irises locked on her bared throat. His eyebrows lifted with puzzlement as his gaze tunnelled onto a bite mark akin to the one he'd left on her throat. Pale white and perfectly healed in the shape of two never-meeting crescent moons, four noticeable one-millimetre indents left behind from the elongated incisors and canines that accompanied his vampiric tendencies.