Rituals, Regrets, and Really Dumb People

Chapter 1: The River Red, Part 3

"So, because they do wrong, you believe you're allowed to do wrong too?" she asked.

"Better me than some CEO or politician backstabbing you," I answered. "At least I'm honest."

"What a stupid way to see the world. Honesty is only a good trait when you use it for the betterment of your fellow."

"Funny coming from a walking corpse that sucks blood from rats and butcher shops. I won't be lectured at by the likes of you."

I wrangled her around and threw her away. She stumbled back and hit the altar, or what I thought was an altar. Altars usually didn't move when something as light as the priestess hit them. That said, she got back up on her hands and knees and I turned to face her, my fingers squeezing into the cushioned handle of my morning star.

"God," she muttered. "I didn't think you were as pathetic as you are."

"What?"

"All of this because you feel powerless?"

"I never said that. I've been rotten to my core since I could think for myself. Since I was a wee one. I am a lot of things, but I am not powerless. As you can see."

She laughed. "Uh huh. 'But CEOs and politicians will do it.' It sounds like cope to me."

I wagged my morning star at her, threatening her. "Shut your whore mouth or I'll shut it for you."

She stood and waved her hands around in mockery. "Poor baby. You sow pain in others because of your own inadequacies."

What was this string of psychobabble she was throwing my way? It was irritating me. This woman didn't know me, yet here she was making a bunch of baseless accusations. I assure you, I do not have, nor feel, any inadequacies.

"Shut up," I said as I stepped towards her and swung the morning star upwards, from beside my legs, socking her right in the gut. That'll make her reconsider her position.

She rolled and tumbled around on the floor, blood oozing out on her white robes. She grabbed her stomach and held it, finding the fortitude to get back up to a foot and knee. "Boy," she said. "What a loser you are. Did mommy not love you enough? Daddy didn't play football with you?"

Argh! I hit her again, spiked her right in the shoulder and knocked her face first into the floor. Damn blow would have crushed most men, but here she was, getting back up.

"You—you—let me guess—you didn't get to go to prom, get the queen for the night?" She began laughing at me. None of this has to do with me not going to prom. I just didn't care enough to. How'd she know that anyways? "If you wanted to go so badly, I would have taken you. You seem like you needed an older woman to guide you. You're sort of cute, maybe I would have given your geeky ass a chan—"

I hit her one good time across the face. Probably knocked a tooth loose, hopefully a fang. That one shut her up. I turned and I looked at the door. This hag was keeping me from my goal, she had distracted me long enough. I took a few steps forward, but I ended up stopping when I heard that infernal laughter echoing behind me. That's right, vampires don't just die because you hit them a few times. I threw my morning star down and I turned to her, my bloodied right hand sticking two of my fingers outward; my index and my middle. I was going to do this annoyance in once and for all.

"Come here," she said to me, waving her hands towards herself. "Come have the last dance with me."

Oh, I'll give her a last dance. I stomped on over and I shoved two of my bleeding fingers right under her ribs, through her robes and skin. I'd make a wound so deadly it'd bleed her out infinitely. Who needed a stake when you could just create a wound like that? It was a death stroke. I rarely did this; it was painful for anyone who was touched by it. It was a slow way to die, to have your wound so cursed to bleed indefinitely, so I reserved it for ones who deserved it the most. She definitely deserved it.