Demons

Chapter Two

Zacky was frustrated with himself, as he roamed the dirty backstreets of Long Beach. He was glad, though, that it wasn’t sunny today. If it had been sunny, then he would have had to wait until about eight o’ clock to feed. By then he’d almost certainly be hysterical with hunger. But he was frustrated because he knew he should have fed last night, but he hadn’t, therefore causing him to endure over six hours of torture at school, being forced to constantly inhale each tempting, tantalizing (mostly) scent of every single person around him. He’d even caught a strong whiff of Brian, once, and he’d sat there shuddering as his muscles tensed with the need to resist killing him… But seeing as he’d been around Brian all day, his smell had been in his sinuses the whole time and it was driving him insane. Brian smelled… good.

He was also frustrated, because he’d been wandering the streets near his home for over half an hour and he still hadn’t found something to eat. His hands were shaking, his head was throbbing, and his throat was burning and aching. It was becoming hard, almost impossible, to handle; he’d never been this hungry for blood, not ever.

And then he saw her, as he walked into perhaps the hundredth alley that day.

Dinner.

She was black, very chubby, with bleached-blonde hair hanging past her broad, naked shoulders. Trashy, sticky pink lipstick was smeared across her fat lips and neon-green eye shadows was dashed lazily over her eyelids. She wore a strapless, overly-tight pink top and a denim mini skirt, showing off her flabby thighs and shapeless legs. She was leaning against the grimy wall of the alley smoking a cigarette, one of her arms hanging by her side and displaying large, scabby track marks.

But despite the despair that was nagging in his mind at the fact that she was going to taste absolutely disgusting, Zacky didn’t give her a second before he dropped his school bag to the floor, and lunged at her.

He latched his jaws onto her neck, his fangs sinking deep into her rubbery skin as she screamed and writhed beneath him, her chubby hands swatting at him as her cigarette fell to the floor. Zacky clamped his jaws down further, making a face as the first trickles of blood ebbed into his mouth and down his throat. He was right; disgusting. The junkies always tasted gross.

He brought his right hand up and slammed it against his mouth, muffling her terrified and agonized screams as Zacky started to drink her. He could feel his thirst slowly being quenched, but the burning at the back of his throat wasn’t going away and by the looks of things, it wasn’t going to. He sucked out as much of the stomach-churning liquid as he could, pressing the whore harder against the wall as she continued to wriggle, her attempts at escape becoming more feeble by the second. He felt her body shuddering and convulsing as more blood left her body, and after a few more seconds her screams died down into little incoherent mumbles and whimpers. As soon as he felt satisfied, if you could call it that, Zacky forced himself to unlock his jaws from around the whore’s neck, causing her body to slump back against the wall as she slowly slid down to the ground.

Her head fell back and hit the wall as she just stared at Zacky, her eyes rolling back into her head as little pained moans left her lips. She was so close, on the verge of death, and not bothering to put her out of her misery Zacky turned away, wiping the corners of his mouth and licking his lips, swallowing the last of the blood in his mouth. He grimaced at the taste of it, the underlying hint of cocaine lingering on his tongue. There had been heroin too, which was already making Zacky feel slightly sick. But still; he was still hungry and that particular crack whore had been one of the worst he’d ever drank.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, flexing his fingers and trying to slow his breathing, ignoring his aching throat. He always got an intense adrenaline rush when he fed, and it always took him a while to calm down. He wasn’t used to any of this, at least not enough. His body was shaking and his breathing was erratic, his head was spinning and the sweat on his forehead was cold as ice.

Eventually he felt his fangs retract and he pulled himself away from the wall, the thirst still raging in his throat. It was better than it had been earlier, much better, but it was still noticeable. How he was going to be able to control himself around Brian later, he didn’t know, but more food would have to wait until later.

He reached into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out, checking the time. Almost 5.15pm, meaning that he had about half an hour to clean himself up and calm down before he had to make the fifteen minute journey to Brian’s house.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder before walking away from the now-dead crack whore that lay in a crumpled, bloody heap against the wall.

*Time Elapse*

Zacky knocked loudly on the front door of Brian’s house, his foot tapping impatiently against the ground as he waited for an answer. Mrs Haner answered it, her hair tied in a bun and her lips parted in a wide grin, as always. She always smiled at Zacky, but Zacky had stopped thinking it was creepy ages ago. He supposed she was just nice.

‘Hi Zack!’ She said, her grin subsiding into her usual motherly smile. Zacky smiled back, still tapping his foot against the ground. He realized, and stopped. ‘How’re you, honey?’

‘I’m good, thanks…’

‘Well that’s good to hear. Brian’s in his room, and I’d knock if I were you. I never know what he’s doing up there…’ She trailed off and Zacky chuckled nervously at the thoughts, before grimacing slightly.

~

‘Brian?’ Zacky called, knocking on Brian’s bedroom door as loudly as he could in order to be heard over the blaring music that was coming from within. There was no reply for about a minute, and Zacky sighed, before pushing the door open and stepping inside. And in that exact moment, Brian screamed a loud and girlish scream as Zacky quickly covered his eyes with his hands.

‘ZACKY!’

‘Oh, god, Brian, are you doing what I think you’re doing!?’