The vampire's wolf

The vampire's wolf-Chapter 9-Blood red moon

Rayne’s P.O.V.

 

“I have a very strong feeling that the opposite of love is not hate- it’s apathy. It’s not giving a damn.”

                -Leo Buscaglia

“Perhaps a lunatic is simply a minority of one.”

                -George Onwell, Nineteen eighty-four

“He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.”

                -Oscar Wilde

 

I sat at the diner, looking out the half dirty window out on the street. Humans, pack members, vampires... they all mingled and interacted with each other on a daily basis like it’s something of a normality for them, but for those who knew where and how to look there was a clear difference between humans and paranormals.

Most humans didn’t even know that the paranormal world existed. They read insane legends about us, about our world, written books and made movies, but they didn’t know the truth.

Paranormals walked with more strength, sometimes even with elegance, but always with caution. They knew they could be attacked at any given moment by someone they couldn’t beat and that was it for them. They would die, their existence in this world would stop.

But humans… no. Humans had that ‘know-it-all’ attitude like nothing scared them. They acted like they were all powerful. Gold like.

And even though all of them knew they would eventually die, of old age if not anything else, they don’t pay attention. Their minds aren’t clogged with worry of who will kill them, who they need to kill, no. They worry about paying the bills and walking the dog.

Many times I have wished I was human. I wished I was born in a normal family, went to normal schools, had a normal family. A normal life.

But then I wouldn’t have the strength I have now. The speed, the knowledge. I couldn’t protect myself like I can now. I would fall prey to a human or a paranormal. I could be a victim in a car accident, a robbery, murder.

I would be powerless to stop it. Just like humans are.

That was probably my biggest fear. And humans-without knowing- have to live with that. They have to live with being powerless and no weapon they make can help them.

That made me rethink my wishes many times.

So then I wished I was a ‘normal’ paranormal. Not a warrior, assassin, mercenary, whatever.

I wished I owned a shop in town or something similar. Go to work in the morning, go home at night.

Still, there’s that worry that someone could kill you just because you’re a paranormal or a different species. Or you just found yourself at the path of a wrong paranormal.

So I wished I didn’t live. At all. that I wasn’t made nor born. That way I wouldn’t have to worry or fear.  I simply wouldn’t exist.

Too bad that when you create a paranormal, give birth to it, that is, you can’t really take it back.

It was weird though, the pain needed to stop for me to die, but I also needed the pain- sought it out- to live. When I don’t feel pain does it mean that I’m not alive? I didn’t know.

So I went through life like this; thinking, worrying, fighting…

“Sorry to keep you waiting man. I was talking to Luc and wasn’t paying attention to the time.” Dima plopped down in the seat opposite of mine, wearing a goofy grin that seriously got on my nerves.