Badass Is What "They" Call Me.

Chapter Two.

Can my unending life get much worse? I threw another outfit on the floor with the other sad rejects. I glanced down at where my feet were suppose to be but instead found a heap of clothes covering them, I could just feel the idea of hiring a maid creep back into my mind. Yet, the idea sounded terrible for whatever maid decided to take on the challenge of cleaning my apartment. Haha. The poor women would have a heart attack, only to imagine what type of things could still be lying around my place. Spilled blood stains that not even Oxi-Clean couldn't remove, refrigerators with past due blood in them, and weapons everywhere you looked. Oh gosh... I guess I’ll have to give up that dream.

I looked up from the pile, to my walk-in closet. I had every designer clothes that a chic could want, things that snot-nosed Paris Hilton could never receive first hand. How she became famous I really will never know. Geez that chic looks like she has a stick up her ass when she runways if that’s what you can even call it. I walked out of the closet and into the bathroom.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, taking in everything I saw. All that stuff about when being turned and slowly processing from a newly fledgling into an uptight vamp you become gorgeous no matter how you looked before is true, but it never hides your inner flaws. My hair glossy copper-red brown and straight down to my mid-back, a tornado could pass by yet after it dispersed my hair would still contain its gorgeous radiance. I’ve been inside a tornado before, trust me, I know.

My eyes dark to a pitch black that in contrast glowed like a window was wide open in them letting light shine through them. Though my eyes much hotwired to my emotions can become ignited and hard when I lost my temper. I was a bit on the short side when it came down to my kind at 5’6 but nobody that ever met me in person underestimated that detail about me. My skin glows a golden sunset color that I always held "before" and "after". My body is that of a body, I never get guys and women that look towards looks rather than feeling. Through years of wandering and seeing relationships bloom and wither, you pick up on a few things. Even a cold-hearted vamp like me understands that without trust there is no relationship, nor love. Having a secret like mine does become a toll on trust and there which I decided to single life permanently, rather than hurt the heart or ego of another, years ago.

I have curves that outline my body’s shape, though I honestly believe there’s any need for it. My chest always being larger then family members I knew was something I wished I didn’t have. I’m a trained vampire, I own a domain and was raised since turned at age 19 to protect it many years ago. Fighting, jumping, dodging, and running are essentials needed but when your chest bounces when in action it can hit a nerve. My arms are slim yet caught between them can lead to a death grip. In simple words: Don’t take chances based on looks.

I took one last glance at myself, head to toe, it always gives me this unnerving feeling at how age-less I am from the day I changed. Walking out of the bathroom to the kitchen to get myself a box of vanilla ice-cream (one of the perks of being frozen: No over-weight stress)out of the freezer as I heard my cell phone ring. I scooped up a spoon on my way out and plopped down on the sofa, jabbed the spoon in the ice-cream and picked up the call all in less than 4 seconds. "Hellooo?" I drawled out, while melted vanilla goo fell on my thigh from the box. "Hey Rhine? It’s Cam. I call to give you a heads up alright? So don’t say I didn’t tell you..." I wiped the melted goo of my thigh. Confused I asked, "What’s wrong?" I stuck my finger in my mouth to lick the vanilla stuff off. Ew. Cam was an old friend that I met back in the late 1800s, he was a guy introduced to me a little over 10 years after my graduation at the ASA. He was in league with the higher class council leaders and gave me heads up on anything that were to occur in my domain ahead of time, he was psychically gifted. He wasn’t allowed to tell me but hey, some rules were just meant to be bent or better...broken.

"Well...Ellen is coming..." he hesitated and regretted as soon as that name left his lips. I bit down on my finger hard causing blood to dribble into the yummy ice-cream before my system could heal it up.

"Shittt!!!" I hissed. I couldn’t even tell what I was upset about at this point, whether Ellen was coming or that my ice-cream now looked like nasty Pepto-Bismol.

Ah damn...