The Trouble With Slaying

The Trouble with Fitting In

"I mean, they can't possibly put in that much subtext and not realize. It's all a clever ploy to put stuff in and let the audience infer whatever they want without being blatant about it. Kind of like a, one size fits all, type of thing. Right?"

I sighed and paused in chipping off the layers of filth in an effort to find the stove hidden underneath. I was sure it was under here somewhere. My efforts were not helped at all by the running monologue the half breed was spewing at me. "I don't care about your stupid comic books."

He frowned at me from his seat on the newly cleared counter. "Manga."

"Same difference. Whatever you decide to call your adult picture book, I'm not interested."

The Dhampire just grinned, infuriatingly at ease. I had spent almost an hour in this kitchen, cleaning out four trash bags full of junk and trash. Going through all the drawers and cabinets had produced another trash bag full of junk and the conclusion that there was no rhyme or reason to this kitchen whatsoever. I had managed to find a spray bottle of bleach and a sponge and put them both to use, but I was pretty sure the mass quantities of dirt, grime, mold, and vermin filth was easier dealt with by simply burning the entire building down.

I had noticed the Dhampire watching me from the doorway and ignored him. He hadn't gotten the message and five minutes later he had hopped up to sit next to me and begun to rant about nothing in particular. Despite me alternating between ignoring him and snapping at him.

"You know, as soon as you drop the rasism, you'll fit right in."

I snarled. "I don't want to fit in with monsters. I'm nothing like you leeches and your mutt friend. I'm better than all of you because you're not a race. You're vermin! And you should be eradicated from the face of this earth!"

The Dhampire's gaze flicked towards the living room and I caught him wince right before a knife went flashing past my nose to thunk into the cabinet. I expelled the breath that had caught in my throat and turned to look at Shaw, glaring at me. He flipped another blade in his hand to catch it by the tip and raise it like he was going to throw it. "Wanna say something else?"

I grit my teeth. "What would you call them then? Because all I've seen them do is take what they want and leave nothing but ruin behind them. They have no mercy. No remorse. No humanity! They devour everything in their path and leave nothing behind!"

I flinched as the knife came hurtling for me. Then gasped when the Dhampire reached out and caught it before it could end me. He smiled as he tugged the first knife from the cabinet door and hopped off the counter. "Come on Shaw. Let's take a walk."

Shaw snorted, but let the young male lead him out of the apartment. Though, not without a warning look my way as he took the knives back from the Dhampire when they were extended. I whirled and resumed my vendetta against the gunk on the stove. I winced when the door slammed, then leaned heavily against the stove, my hands shaking.

When my heartbeat had slowed a little, I resumed working. I had the kitchen almost clean when the door opened and I heard the Werewolf bellowing. "Hey Shaw! Boss?!"

I heard him clomp into the doorway of the kitchen, much louder than the Dhampire had been. I didn't turn to look at him even when I felt his eyes on me.

"Where's Shaw newbie?"

"With the Dhampire."

The mutt sighed with irritation. "Where's Sawamura?"

"With Shaw."

I stiffened when the brutish dog strode into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of my shirt to yank me around. His hot breath in my face made me sneer and he snarled back. "Listen smart ass, I'm not playing games with you. Where'd they go?"