Thirst

An old friend

Cleo had a busy day ahead of her and couldn't wait for it to be over. The doors opened at seven and closed around five. It depended on the late comers who were desperate for their pet to be seen.  Cleo could never turn away a hurt puppy or a found kitten. 

Cleo dropped herself on the couch in the waiting room. "Ah! What a day."

Milly laughed as she finished filing some paperwork. "Don't go to sleep yet Cleo. Wait until we get home."

"That's easy for you to say. You still have energy left from the day."

"Hey, typing in all that information for you  from those documents are a lot of work. My hands are still sore from writing."

Cleo looked at her and started laughing. 

She got up from the couch and finished her closing duties. Milly cleaned the front office and began to close up her station. Once everything was done they both walked out of the office. She was locking the door when she heard something hard being dropped next to her. She turned to see Milly, lying  unconscious at her feet. Her mind went blank. At first, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. While figuring out what to do, black shoes appeared.

Looking up, she saw a pair of orange eyes. His other features were hidden behind a black hoodie but he was tall. She had to blink a couple of times. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her. This was such an unusual color that she couldn't believe it to be true. She couldn't admire the sight before her because this man, had hurt Milly.

He grinned. "You'll do nicely. Peter will have to come now that I have you."

"P-Peter? Who's that?"

He silently stared at her for a moment. "Someone who is very dear to you."

What?  Before she could utter a single word, he disappeared. She looked left and right, trying to see where he had gone. Or was he even real? Maybe working too hard was finally getting to her. Though Millys body told otherwise. 

As she convinced herself Milly had feinted from overwork as well, she felt hands go around her waist and mouth. She struggled to get free but he was too strong. Her body grow tired as her eyes become heavy. Her eyes tried to focus on Milly, hoping she was alright. 

A voice whispered in her ear. "Goodnight little one."

His laughter rang in her ears. She could feel her body being lifted up into arms as her mind went dark. The wind on her face sent her off into a deep sleep.

~Stain~

Peter sighed as he did many times before. He was in an apartment,  sitting on a cough, petting Vincent near the ear. The dog seemed to enjoy this as he just lay there, relaxing. Almost to the point of falling asleep. 

After he had told Dantee his name, this seemed to make them instantly good friends. At least, that's what Dantee made it look like. He began to tell him all about his life which resulted in being invited over to his house. Dantee had gone to the restroom and left a movie playing on the TV. It seemed strange for Peter to have a friend after all these years. The last friend he had was one of his kind. They were the same height but with different features.

He had orange eyes, gray hair and tan skin. People often mistook him for an old man until they saw his face. It was a face of a young angel, many said. He wasn't sure what was so angelic about his face because of the things he had done. If they knew, they would think differently. 

They used to be very good friends until one day, there began arguing who was the better fighter. Which resulted in a brawl. Peter won, but at a price. They had made a bet that if he lost, Peter would take away the memories of their time together. He apposed, because he didn't want to lose the one thing that made this long life worthwhile. In the end, he complied. While knocked out, he made sure to take away each piece that included him in it. The only way to reclaim what was lost was if Peter gave them back or if something compelled him to look for them. If it was the latter, it would take a long time, which he had plenty of. Or he could've remembered everything after waking up.