have a reflection.
As it moved so did I; a shadow ghosting a shadow. Skittering from roof to roof, I kept my stare locked on the dark form. Stumbling once on an exposed ventilation pipe I nearly plowed into the lip of the building. It was only my preternatural quickness and agility that saved me from what could have been a very embarrassing story to tell my supervisor back at the office. He had chastised me many times for my habit of wearing heavy black boots. I couldn't help it. I had an affinity for chunky shoes. As the shadow stopped, I threw myself down. Perhaps it had heard my foot hit the pipe or caught my scent on the cool night's breeze. I couldn't tell if it had detected me. Lying silently in a cold puddle of rainwater, I knew a moment of discomfort was much better than anything the shadow could do to me if discovered. I had to move. Hiding behind this lip, I was risking losing it. Truth be told, I was very good at my job. I was a predator. The hunt was now second nature to me. But the job always felt like punishment for what I was. It was either the Brimstone Syndicate or expulsion into the sun. At least this option kept me alive. That was more than I could say for many of my supernatural brethren. Many of whom I had personally terminated.
A strange thought occurred to me. I missed the beat of my heart. In this situation, when I was still human, I knew my heart would have been thumping hard and fast as it pumped the necessary blood to my body. I started to take a slow breath out of habit as I felt the emptiness in my ribcage. Shaking my head, I rolled onto my side.
Lifting my head, I peered down into the street. The shadow hovered just beyond a pool of light spilling down from the streetlamp. It stood completely still amidst the huge drops of rain; the wind barely ruffling its clothes. The dark fabrics it wore were just visible in the darkness, yet I could smell them. Silk had a very distinctive odor, probably because it came from a worm. I watched quietly, waiting for its next move.
It was already too late when I realized it. Its stare was burning into me. Cursing under my breath, I moved without a second thought. My position had been compromised. The shadow was onto me. Shuffling to my feet, I leapt off the edge of the roof without looking below. I hit the wet sidewalk hard. A mortal's knees would have buckled from that height, but I took off into a dead sprint after my prey. One of the benefits of already being dead, I assured myself. The shadow was ahead of me, but not by much. Decisions swarmed my brain.When I caught up with the shadow—if I did—what would I do? The .45 ACP pistol in my shoulder holster would only slow it
down, and in fact shooting it would probably succeed in pissing it off more than anything. Diving over garbage cans and whipping around corners, I took mental inventory of my supplies. I was equipped with the bare minimum. I'm sure my tool kit was at home probably having a lovely night. I had a few spells in my jacket, but those weren't going to do anything either. I gritted my teeth. That only left me with one option. But I had to get close. Too close. I had been caught off my game. But that's when fate always seems to intervene. Intending to have a quiet drink at a human bar, instead,he walked in. It took me a minute, but there was something about him, something familiar. Maybe it was the outdated, expensive clothes he wore. Maybe it was the way he moved; his hands and arms seemed to flow like water as he gestured. But it was his eyes that gave him away.
He was a Vampire.
As it moved so did I; a shadow ghosting a shadow. Skittering from roof to roof, I kept my stare locked on the dark form. Stumbling once on an exposed ventilation pipe I nearly plowed into the lip of the building. It was only my preternatural quickness and agility that saved me from what could have been a very embarrassing story to tell my supervisor back at the office. He had chastised me many times for my habit of wearing heavy black boots. I couldn't help it. I had an affinity for chunky shoes. As the shadow stopped, I threw myself down. Perhaps it had heard my foot hit the pipe or caught my scent on the cool night's breeze. I couldn't tell if it had detected me. Lying silently in a cold puddle of rainwater, I knew a moment of discomfort was much better than anything the shadow could do to me if discovered. I had to move. Hiding behind this lip, I was risking losing it. Truth be told, I was very good at my job. I was a predator. The hunt was now second nature to me. But the job always felt like punishment for what I was. It was either the Brimstone Syndicate or expulsion into the sun. At least this option kept me alive. That was more than I could say for many of my supernatural brethren. Many of whom I had personally terminated.
A strange thought occurred to me. I missed the beat of my heart. In this situation, when I was still human, I knew my heart would have been thumping hard and fast as it pumped the necessary blood to my body. I started to take a slow breath out of habit as I felt the emptiness in my ribcage. Shaking my head, I rolled onto my side.
Lifting my head, I peered down into the street. The shadow hovered just beyond a pool of light spilling down from the streetlamp. It stood completely still amidst the huge drops of rain; the wind barely ruffling its clothes. The dark fabrics it wore were just visible in the darkness, yet I could smell them. Silk had a very distinctive odor, probably because it came from a worm. I watched quietly, waiting for its next move.
It was already too late when I realized it. Its stare was burning into me. Cursing under my breath, I moved without a second thought. My position had been compromised. The shadow was onto me. Shuffling to my feet, I leapt off the edge of the roof without looking below. I hit the wet sidewalk hard. A mortal's knees would have buckled from that height, but I took off into a dead sprint after my prey. One of the benefits of already being dead, I assured myself. The shadow was ahead of me, but not by much. Decisions swarmed my brain.When I caught up with the shadow—if I did—what would I do? The .45 ACP pistol in my shoulder holster would only slow it
down, and in fact shooting it would probably succeed in pissing it off more than anything. Diving over garbage cans and whipping around corners, I took mental inventory of my supplies. I was equipped with the bare minimum. I'm sure my tool kit was at home probably having a lovely night. I had a few spells in my jacket, but those weren't going to do anything either. I gritted my teeth. That only left me with one option. But I had to get close. Too close. I had been caught off my game. But that's when fate always seems to intervene. Intending to have a quiet drink at a human bar, instead,he walked in. It took me a minute, but there was something about him, something familiar. Maybe it was the outdated, expensive clothes he wore. Maybe it was the way he moved; his hands and arms seemed to flow like water as he gestured. But it was his eyes that gave him away.
He was a Vampire.