Blood Bag

Blood Bank (Part 3 Julian)

I have mere seconds to adjust to the dark, stiflingly warm room before the throng of people start to surge towards us. Marcus and Randal step forward, pushing the crowd back, toppling a few eager bodies over in their haste. The smell of flesh and sweat is cloying and under it all, sweet and subtle, is the scent of blood coursing through veins. I resit the urge to pluck the nearest limb and sink my teeth into it. Doing so would be a death sentence to whomever the limb belonged to. Perhaps not today but later in the week that person would have an accident at work, or somehow get run-over by one of only forty unmistakably-noisy cars in the city. 

The bass thumps in my chest like a heart beat. I resist smiling at the irony of it. Instead laying my eyes on the sea of faces around me. It's simple I tell myself. Just pick. They all want this, it's why they're here. Samuel's looking at me with an eyebrow raised. I can tell he's thinking the same thing. It's like we're shopping in the produce section. The idea makes my stomach turn before I can stop myself imagining the people in front of me as slabs of meat on a counter. Just pick one. 

I watch the faces, who's life should I ruin today? Most of them are shockingly young, little blondes with cherub faces and thick black eye makeup. My stomach turns again. I try to see past them, to spot others but the same faces seem repeated time and time again. I spot a tall girl weaving her way lithely through the crowd, black hair like spun silk cascading over one shoulder and yet shes not a girl, she's very clearly a young woman. Her face is solemn, despite the throng of eager cheering souls around her. Her eyes flicker in the strobe lights and for a second I swear I can see madness behind them. 

I look to Samuel, he's spotted her too. He gives me a grin and a thumbs up. Out of all the humans in here she looks like the only one strong enough to endure what she will have to on a daily basis. As if she can hear my thoughts her eyes lock onto mine, she smiles at me and whilst I can't help but sense there's something oddly calculating about it, I smile back. 

"You want that one?" Samuel yells into my ear. Far louder than he has any need to since my hearing is accelerated enough that I can hear each clink as the bartender lines the clean glasses up  on the bar across the room. Half tempted to slap Samuel round the back of the head for referring to one of his own kind in such an offhand way, I give him a pointed stare before nodding. 

Samuel grins again, leaning forward to shout instructions at Marcus and Randal, then he turns for the back door. I follow him, not wanting to witness whats going to happen next. I know I should, I know I owe the human who's life I'm about to ruin that much but I just can't bring myself to watch her collared.