Something To Kill For

Chapter One: The First Step Forward

I was exceptionally thirsty and it was raining, making the smells that much more potent in the air. No one was in the streets, seeing as a huge storm was currently thundering down on Philadelphia. The rain showered down in buckets and I was completely soaked, sticking my hair to my face.

It was daytime and I was out with the humans, trying to blend in. This was something I still hadn't gotten comfortable with and I was wary: on my guard.

I saw a small diner a few yards away and started to make my way there, so that I wouldn't attract attention standing out in the rain doing nothing.

I was still trying to fight the thirst, half of me wanted to give in, but the other half told me that I couldn't stand killing anyone else. I hated this part. I hated what I was, because I had to feel what my victims felt. The fear as I closed in for the kill, the regret that they wouldn't see their friends and family again, how confused they were at what I was doing, and finally nothing, as I finished them off.

As of late, I was much more depressed than usual. Peter had shown me that our kind could live differently than how we had in the South, and that had helped my mood for a while. But, there was still something missing in my life. I had left Peter and Charlotte to search for that something. So far, I hadn't found anything that sated the pain of living like I did. Well, not living – existing, I suppose I should call it.

I had no idea what the hell I was searching for, but I knew I needed something. I needed an escape, a light in my cold, dark existence. At one point, I even tried feeding in different ways, to see if it would provide any stimulation. I tried extreme sports (even more extreme than what humans consider dangerous), I sought company in the night (a disastrous situation), I tried running it off, but nothing seemed to work. Presently I was trying to abstain from hunting at all, which would explain why my eyes were constantly dark.

It was like just being wasn't enough without the war, yet I hated when I was wrapped up in all of that, and quite glad to escape the killing massacres. I was water and everything else was oil, we could only be together for so long, before we separated indefinitely. I was getting sick of it, of everything.

Outside of the little diner, I paused to make sure I could refuse the temptation that their smells aroused in me. There weren't that many people in at this time of day, so I decided it would be sufferable.

I walked in to the small room, looking down as I closed the door behind me. I shook out my hair as soon as I was in the door. When I looked up, my eyes locked on a small gal. She jumped off of the tall stool where she was sitting, by the counter, and skipped up to me. I was confused and I didn't know what to expect. She was smiling, and I felt what she was feeling, stopping me from taking the defensive and expecting an attack, as was my nature. She felt relieved.

She was the most beautiful creature that I had ever seen; eminently more gorgeous than I had thought Maria was when I first saw her. Her hair was short, black and stuck out at odd angles in a disarray of spikes. She was tiny; everything about her was small. She was very slender and short, yet healthy looking. Her features were small, and she exuded confidence. Her eyes were a radiant inky black, and mischievous. In fact, she looked mischievous. However, she radiated happiness. Her smile was warm and knowing.

She bounded straight up to me so she could look up into my eyes.

"You've kept me waiting a long time." Her voice was high-pitched and singsong, and it suited her. She was still smiling as she stared into my eyes and I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time, and I could tell that she was feeling it too. It was fulfillment; hope.

I ducked my head as I remembered my manners. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

She held out her hand, toward me, so I could take it and raised her eyebrows. I took it without thinking and smiled at her. I knew then that she was the something I was looking for, the light of my existence. She was the something I would kill for.