Blythe Sullivan
No Entry
Jane Bruno
She awoke to hell and knives and there Jane Bruno realized several things. Jane Bruno not want to wake up.
Terrors unnamed would walk the streets and the inhumane killers were all there before her. They dressed and walked and talked like humans. They blended in so well that it wasn't until she saw their teeth flash, their eyes change colors, their movements become too fast to be real, that it was obvious they were not human. When she was a cop, her greatest worry had been over humans. Now, her greatest worry was for humans.
I can't do this.
She balked against the idea of running and leaving the place. The idea of just leaving it all behind, never knowing why, never knowing what, never finding out who she was. Jane could die. She could kill herself, rid the world of a monster, but that wasn't what she was called to do and she knew it. Death came only to the pretty and the good. The rest of them were left to fend for herself, and Jane knew that she would have to let go of herself to save those left.
Eugene's hand rested against her shoulder and she leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his hand against her. "There you are, sleepy-head," he murmured. "I'm amazed."
"Why's that?"
"I thought you only slept well when you were smashed out of your mind drunk, you little shot away from AA," he told her. "Well, wipe off your ugly sleep and get ready."
Jane sighed and wiped at her eyes. She felt like death and around her the world was death. People moved left and right, everyone scrambling. Vampires, blood, knives, guns, everything too fast for her to grasp. Eugene lay next to her in a corner, a shot of vodka half drank on his left and she clinging to the entirety of his right.How long have we been here?
"There's another clan who wants to kill us—we have to get ready. Half of everyone is going. You should go too, Jane," he told her, reaching out to pull up her horribly tied pony-tail.
I'm going to die a vampire. I'm going to live a vampire. What is this? A fight? Clans? I don't want this. I didn't ask for this. Jane sucked in air deeply and blew it out through her nose, the opposite of what everyone had always told her to do when feeling anxiety.
"Yeah, why don't we?"
Eugene looked away and slowly stood up, letting her drop to the ground. In silence she thought, realizing with horror that he meant to stay. He'd never been one to back away from a fight before. In fact, she'd seen him take down several bartenders in the past.
Jane Bruno did not want to fight.
The urge to run away coursed through her yet she knew that she could not leave. I can't let them hurt Eugene. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be one of them. She did not want him to die—even though he already was dead. I don't want him to die again. I need him. She stuck beside him, too scared to stay, too stubborn to leave.
A buzz filled the air as the time ticked down and she readied herself. Some people fled, leaving only a handful behind. Those that had left were lucky. They would be safe. Jane couldn't say the same for herself.
Her hair, now tied back, looked darker than ever and her body felt sticky, in need of a bath. That would wait. Baths, luxury, peace of mind, all of that would have to wait. I won't be getting anything like that anytime soon, she thought to herself. Eugene handed her a drink and she drank, ignoring the color of the liquid, ignoring the taste. I hate myself.
