City of All Things Ruined - A Mortal Instruments Fan Fiction (COMPLETED)

Chapter 46

 (I know it's short, but it's just a filler, nothing important)

CHAPTER 46 –

MAUREEN

Frankly, I’m impressed with myself. Since Simon turned me into a vampire, everything’s improved about me. I’m faster, stronger, and even though I’m dead, I’ve never felt more alive. I guess... you could say I’m bad. But I’m a kid, that’s natural.

Being head of the New York vampire Clan has its assets as well: I can get away with anything, like killing mundanes. Tearing their throats out, normally – I guess that way I can turn them into a work of art before I drain them.

Before I stopped by the Institute, I’d paid an entire mundie family a visit, and they were oh so generous. I don’t think they’ll have me round again anytime soon, which is a shame: Their blood was divine.

After my little arts-and-craft lesson earlier, my hands are still soaked in crimson blood, looking like elbow-length gloves. I’ve gotten so used to that little ‘accessory’ that the skin on my hands is stained red. I bet Simon would like it.

“Kaelie’s death. Red to raise enchantment down.” My Simon murmured to his little friends. I loved the way his hair fell lazily into his eyes, exposing his clear forehead, now rid of the Mark of Cain. That mark had been his shield for so long – anyone who laid a finger on him would have the pain reciprocated 7 times over... So I guess if you killed him, you’d die seven times over?

I zoned out of the conversation below me, thinking about that for a while.

Once I tuned back in, I saw a thin woman with a ridiculous skirt say, “It’s what Will would have wanted.”

I was fixated with the woman’s fashion sense. She didn’t have a splash of pink on her anywhere! Not like me, with my bunchies, my little pony T-shirt, pink leggings and pink sneakers. I’m the height of fashion, that lady is just an old fuddy-duddy.

I cringe as the rafters creak under my weight, but thankfully, none of the shadowhunters and downworlders had the brains to look up.

“I guess we better head out,” The warlock, Magnus Bane said. Barely managed to suppress a gasp, I watched in giddy excitement as a drop of blood spills off my hands, landing flat on the warlock’s head. It flattened one of his gelled spikes, but he didn’t notice.

After everyone had cleared out, I jumped down at least 20 feet, crashing into the ground, splintering the wood, but I didn’t feel a thing. I know I left my bloody footprints leading out of the door, but I guess it was my little message to them.

Shutting the door quietly behind me, I look around checking the coast was clear – not that it mattered. I guess I could just kill them, but I know I couldn’t bring myself to kill Simon. Sebastian says we might have to, but I don’t want any part of it.

I have to stick to the shadows. Unlike Simon, I can’t go out in the daylight, so instead, I grab a beaten up old umbrella, concealing my skin from the sun.

I laugh to myself as I sit on a bench, staring at the Institute menacingly, waiting for the plan to take its course.

(double update I thing)