Faerie's Charm Chapter 1 EDIT

Chapter 1

This is not a successful night for me. I get up off the ground after being knocked down by the vampyre I've been trying to kill for the past half hour.
Now, that I'm standing up, I look at my enemy once more. His face is stoic and his posture is almost army-like. He could have just feasted on an entire town and felt no remorse. Looking into his eyes and knowing what he is, I can see the type of creature that would kill someone, even when their blood is not needed, just to watch them die. Just like the vampyre that killed my father. Vampyres usually only feed on humans. He murdered my dad for the sake of killing him, I think.

The creature is disguised as a man, but he isn't. His eyes are piercing and are filled with something that isn't either fire or ice. They stare into mine in a way that seems violating, prying into me as windows to a soul and mind of one that thinks far too much.

"I hate you vile creatures!" I yell.

While he's distracted, I lunge forward with my own weapon. Tonight, I have my Japanese oak longsword, mostly because my two elm daggers are now protruding from some female vampyre's stomach somewhere in the woods less than a mile away. Most of my weaponry is wooden, because it works more efficiently against vampyres than anything else.

My blade manages to rip off one of his sleeves, before he jumps back, and I do as well, but not before circling him, ready to make my next move. His arm slightly muscular in such a way that he doesn't appear weak or frail, but not too burly, either. He's also adorned in what appears to be attire from the late 1800s or early 1900s. So, not only will his blood be indulging, but also well-seasoned. I stare the male fiend up and down and lick my lips thinking about the warm rich substance that is only a few cuts and scrapes away, underneath his pale layers of skin.

"Elias Ishoda," he speaks for the first time, loudly enunciating my name for emphasis. "Keiran's son. I have heard of you. There is something both disgusting and intriguing about you and a darkness that seems to radiate your being. I can see it right now. Especially in that smile of yours." My smile drops at those words.

"You act just like your father, except there seems to be a more of a killer instinct in you," he chuckles as my now straight face turns to a frown. "I can see your patience wearing thin, so I will just introduce myself, as I already know your name. My name is Cassius," he says, smiling a crooked vampyre smile.

Of course, I think, finally processing what my enemy just said, the rouges don't have surnames. They either drop them when they leave control of the king or just aren't told their last names by their parents or guardians if they're born into the rouge lifestyle.

"So you are a rouge. Then your name must be just Cassius and Cassius only. It appears that you'll put up a strong fight, as you rouges are not known for giving up easily,"

"I hate to disappoint you, but I am not--"

"Okay, enough chit-chat," I declare "It's been at least fifteen minutes longer than I anticipated to rip open your flesh and suck out every last drop, Cassius!"

Of course, my words are rewarded with a hiss, right before he blocks my attack. I have to give the man credit, he's really strong, but I'm a pretty swift guy myself. I land right on my tailbone, at least ten feet backward from where I was standing and notice that there's a huge gash in my lower left arm.

I sigh, because that was originally my dominant arm, before I taught myself to be ambidextrous, so therefore it is my favorite. I take the sword from my left hand and hold it in my right. However, this unfortunate turn of events is now a good thing. A sly smile makes its way to my face as I find an opening on the left side of his body. I pretend to shakily get up. Most vampyres have sympathy for weakened opponents, and because it is battle code – even for the rouges –  that they wait until their opponent is standing to strike again. Half-way off the ground, I race towards his vulnerable side and stab him there as hard as I can. I jump out of the way as the dark liquid that runs in his veins shoots into the air about five feet. Apparently, I struck an artery. As tempted as I am to stand in front of the dark, twisted mimic of a water fountain and drink away, I don't, because the stain will never come out and I'd have to throw away one of my good jackets. Vampyre blood becomes pure black when it dries.

"I should... have known," Cassius pants as he lies on the ground "...that you would do something like this. You don't trust me, after all. I suppose I am now your prey. But before I go...," he trails off.

I inwardly sigh. I'm not fond of dying requests, especially coming from vampyres, but I take this request anyway. It's the least I could do for tricking him.

"Come closer, first," he demands in a barely audible voice. My sympathies work against me and I indeed, come closer to him. I can see a clear view of his silver eyes, intensified by the moonlight, his young features that belong to someone that looks to be about twenty years old, his lips bloodied, and his chocolate brown hair dirtied by battle. He reaches his arms up very slowly and puts a hand on either side of my face. I didn't plan on him touching me. I guess I'll have to purify myself later,  I think, before I realize how close his face is to mine. Oh no, I think, but it's too late. His lips are on mine! I'm now panicking, before I remember that this is normal. Oh yeah, the goodbye kiss. An awkward vampyre custom -especially since we're both guys- but it's a real custom that the dying do to people they respect, I remind myself as his warm, bloody lips rest on mine for a moment.

But then, his lips linger and begin to move on mine. No, I'm just getting too worried. I must be overly tired, I tell myself, right before his tongue is in my mouth. I instantly jerk away and Cassius is laughing.

"I was just yanking you!" he cackles, trying to get up off the ground and failing in the process "Or whatever it is you teenagers say these days. But I have to admit, that had to be one of my favorite moments in over fifty years! The look on your face was worth it!"

It takes a moment to gather my thoughts. It's not every day that you meet someone - especially a vampyre - that suddenly changes their personality and dialect midstream like that. I want to ask him where he learned such an old 90's term, before I realize that he just kissed me like he would a girl and is laughing about it like a deranged person that just escaped from an asylum.

"You're sick!" I yell.

The strange vampyre either doesn't hear me or doesn't care because he just keeps laughing, laughing, and laughing, without any end to it. He doesn't have to catch a breath anyway, I think grimly.

Who the hell does he think I am? I'm not going to take this, I think before knocking him upside the head with the handle of my wooden sword and finally stopping his disturbed and unnatural laughter.

I decide that I'm not so bloodthirsty anymore. Flicking what blood I can off of my wooden instrument and sheathing it in a makeshift sheath, I begin to walk away. Thoughts of being in a nice warm bed cloud my mind. Home has never sounded more welcoming. However, a pervading sense of dread fills the air. Try as I might, I can't seem to shake it. I feel as if this Cassius is piercing my very core and not just with his prank. It's as if he's affecting me at a soul-deep level. I run to my house as fast as I can and don't look back.