The Hunted [s.u]

i. HEART STRINGS

     I wasn't always like this. Not at first. Before, I depended on the shadows to aid me in my hunt. Now, I depended on alcohol.

     A bell rings above my head as I shove open the bar door, the heavy smell of liquor and cigarette smoke trailing into my nose. Eyes from every angle of the bar land on me, but I shrug them off as I walk up to the counter. I'm used to people looking at me. I mean, who wouldn't stare at a girl wearing a heavy black coat in the summer? "What can I get for you, little lady?" The bartender asks, forcing a toothless smile. My ID comes quickly out of my wallet and I nod to behind him.

     "Whiskey, on the rocks," I grumble. He glances down at the card on the counter, and picks it up, examining the girl in the picture. He looks back at me, observing my features. The piercing gray eyes catch him off guard, and I flash a grin.

     "Arden?" He asks, unsure if I was lying or not. I bow my head, and he hands me back my ID. The plastic card is shoved back into the wallet I stole and thrown into my jacket. He pours the golden liquid into a glass and drops four ice cubes into it, the ice cracking as it absorbs the liquor I'm about to consume I gladly take it and drink, the smokey flavor numbing my senses. If only I could drink all the time to forget. The odd sound of the bell reverberates through my ears and I look up to see a handsome man walk in.

     His eyes are dark blue, but I can see behind the color. Blue layers his animalistic golden eyes, making him prepared to lure in prey. His intoxicating smell overwhelms me, but it no longer has the effect on me like it used to. My eyes travel down his hollowed out collarbones, and I find myself wondering if he has a helios tattoo. The man takes a seat at a table with a blonde girl in a skimpy black dress. His eyes dance across her dainty body and he swipes his tongue over his regular canines. I can almost picture his fangs sliding out of his gums.

     He doesn't notice me, and I take the hidden advantage, doing my best to enjoy my drink. A light haze settles over me, but I push it aside as I watch him attempt to flirt with the blonde. She gladly accepts his invitation, grateful for the company. She doesn't know that she's letting in a monster. The counter digs into my shoulder blades as I lean against it, the metal of my stake quietly clicking on the wood. The metal rubs into my my scarred skin, but the tip does not scratch it. As I adjust my weight I feel the stake move with me, as if we were one whole.

     The man places his hand on her upper thigh, and her muscles tense, but she does not push him away. He moves closer and whispers something into her ear and she gives a small nod. Before I can even order a second drink, the two stand up and make their way out the back door. I throw a ten on the counter and pull up my hair into a ponytail, not caring about the pieces that weren't co-operating. The elastic slaps against my brown hair and I step away from the counter, unwillingly leaving my drink behind. It's like I can hear the bottles of whiskey whispering my name. Arden, come back. Ignoring my desperate thirst for alcohol, I walk out through the front door again and the bell chimes. The shadows blend with my black clothes, concealing me in the disloyal night. Even though I feel hidden, I know I'm never truly safe from monsters. I learned that the hard way.