erika_street: (shy)
[personal profile] erika_street
It had not gone well. No, not at all.

Perhaps Erika was crazy. She wondered if a person thought they were crazy, did that mean they were not? Only crazy people didn't think they were crazy, right???

She rubbed at her eyes and then her temples, where the headache threatened to blossom into a real head banger.

The cop had looked at her like she was crazy. Even worse, he'd spoken to her in a quiet, gentle voice, as if she were a child he was afraid to scare off, and was using great pains to gain her understanding.

How did she explain that she'd maybe been kidnapped? And that the kidnapper, whom she hadn't really ever seen, had maybe been the man who had... beheaded... killed... slain that demon looking monster thing in her restaurant parking lot?

She hadn't explained it well at all. Hence, the cop thought she was crazy, and now she was even doubting herself.

There were many times when Erika wished she didn't live alone. She often got lonely. She longed for a husband or a boyfriend. A family she could call her own. At times like this, that pain ached even deeper. No one had missed her. No one had even known she was in trouble. No one had even cared.

Would she keel over dead some day in her apartment, lying there rotting and smelly, until the stench finally alerted someone that her body was there?

Sometimes Erika was tired of living. Maybe it would have been better if that demon had got her. Or if her kidnapper had... done whatever he'd planned to do.

Damn, that cop had messed with her head. She wasn't crazy. She wasn't depressed. She wasn't seeking attention. It really had happened.

And somehow, she'd prove it.
erika_street: (serious)
[personal profile] erika_street
Erika came out of the lone bathroom to hear a clicking noise at the door. She froze in place. She waited.

Nothing.

Was it him? Was her captor finally coming? What did he want? She wasn't even sure who it was. Was it the tall handsome guy that had beheaded that... that thing in the Road Kill parking lot? Or was it someone else? Some thing else? What did they want? To kill her? Rape her? Torture her?

Ten heartbeats. Nothing.

Finally she went over to the door and put her shaking fingers on the door knob. She'd pounded on that door for hours. She'd pulled on the knob, trying to twist and turn the lock, but all to no avail. Yet this time, when she put her fingers around the knob and twisted, it turned easily in her hand.

Slowly she pushed the door open. Erika took a big breath and then stuck her head out into the hallway.

It was dark. It was closing in on morning. The hallway was full of shadows. There was one door to her right. She took a step out of the room and her foot felt something soft. She gasped and jumped backwards. Looking down, she saw her clothes. They had been laundered and folded, left by her door.

Erika was more confused than ever. Quickly she grabbed her clothes, but didn't bother to change into them just yet. She glanced to the left and saw nothing. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew better than to wait when the advantage seemed to be hers. She ran with her bundle of clothes in her arm towards the other door. It was unlocked, and opened into a back lot with a dense forest surrounding the building. Without a backwards glance Erika heaved herself into a sprint and escaped into the forest towards freedom.

She never saw the vampire leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He felt... confused, but knew letting her go, even after all that planning, was the right thing to do.

"Rhiannon," had been her name, and the conversation with her still echoed in his mind. And he'd changed his plans, letting Erika go.
erika_street: (Default)
[personal profile] erika_street
Erika’s day had begun like nearly every other. She awoke to find her cat, Timmy, sitting on her stomach and kneading her chest. He wanted breakfast, and began to lick her nose until she chuckled and moved him off so she could get up. She’d fed him, showered, and drank her coffee while skimming through the morning newspaper.

Of course, by this time, it was more like ‘afternoon,’ than morning. Her days ended way past midnight, depending on how busy the grill and bar was. By the time she drove home, ate some dinner, and went to bed, it was usually close to three or so in the morning. That meant she didn’t usually wake up until around noon the next day.

And then her work shift started at 3 pm so she would do it all over again.

Luckily Erika wasn’t one of those owners that had to be there seven days a week, 24 hours a day. She had a great general manager and assistant manager. Erika believed in balance. When you had balance in your life, you were usually happier and more productive. She insisted that her staff had quality time off, at least two days in a row every week, just like she had.

This day was her Friday. It wasn’t an actual Friday, since weekends were when The Road Kill Grill was at its busiest so she always worked. Midweek was her time off. She had expected to spend her hours of leisure with a good book while she sunbathed in her backyard pool and sipped wine.

But Erika’s day hadn’t ended like most days. Instead of driving home after her shift and making dinner, she found herself paralyzed in fear.

She had to have been hallucinating. What she saw couldn’t be. Frank, one of her regular bar customers, had turned into… something. Something hideous. But that wasn’t even the worst of it! No, the handsome guy that had been hanging around a lot lately, the one that had never said two words to her and yet she constantly had felt his presence in the dark or in the shadows as she walked her restaurant at night locking up, or when she took her garbage out, or when making the quick walk to the grocery store near her home, that guy had ripped the Frank thing’s head right off!

That’s all Erika remembered before everything had faded to black.

Now she groaned and slowly stretched. Her eyes fluttered open and then she became fully awake with a start.

This was not her bed. This was not her room.

Quickly she flipped the covers back and hopped out of bed. She glanced down to find herself wearing white boxer shorts and a black tank top, and nothing else. She frowned. These were not her clothes. Glancing around she couldn’t find her clothes anywhere. She ran over to the door and tried the knob, but it was locked. She knocked loudly and shouted, but no one came. What the hell was going on? Erika felt equal measures of fear and anger.

The room was quite sparse. Just a bed, a side table with a lamp, a closet that was empty, and a door to an attached bathroom. A quick exploration of that room also came up fairly empty. A toilet with one paper roll, tissue box on the counter with a sink and bar of soap, and a bath/shower combo. Nothing else.

Erika paced the room for hours. There was no window in either room but she could feel the heat of the day baking all around her. No one came when she continued to call. It was as if she was utterly alone on another planet with a relentless sun.

Her life had turned into some kind of nightmare, and she was not anxious to see what would come with the sunset.
tristan_vamp: (Default)
[personal profile] tristan_vamp
He’d been stalking the demon for several weeks now. Its favorite hangout seemed to be this Nevada diner, The Road Kill Grill. Tristan had been amused by the name and figured that was why the Sparkva Demon preferred it for a hunting ground. But then Tristan observed the owner and it all made sense.

Erika smelled sweet. Tristan’s own nostrils twitched in the wind from his perch on the diner’s roof as Erika, the owner, emerged from the closed diner to walk towards her parked Chevy Citation in the lot. The Sparkva was leaning against a light post smoking a cigarette. To any casual observer, he looked like a lost old man waiting for life to pass him by. Erika, recognizing him as one of her new regular bar customers, hesitated when she spotted him in the glow of the light. Tristan cocked his head and steadied himself, watching from his high position above them on the roof.

“Goodnight Frank,” Erika called out. Frank nodded at Erika as she waved and turned to walk towards her car in the seemingly deserted parking lot. He flicked out his cigarette and tossed it on the ground. In the blink of the eye that it took for Erika to turn and walk towards her car, Frank the Sparkva demon morphed into his true form and leapt upon Erika’s back.

Like most demons, ‘Frank,’ was not attractive. In his true form he sort of looked like Lou Ferrigno in the Incredible Hulk, only even uglier. His hair was long and stringy in a mud color that dripped with oil. His bulky body was also a mud, dull orange color. It was his fingernails that were the real danger. The tips were sharp points, and any scratch could prove lethal to it’s prey with an intense and almost spontaneous infection that quickly entered the bloodstream to infect the host, killing it in mere moments. 

It was those fingernails that made Tristan move so quickly. With his long leather jacket flapping in the breeze, Tristan leapt from the roof to land upon the Sparkva’s back just as it reached Erika. She screamed and dove for her car, but she dropped her keys in the panic and fear. If Erika could have crawled under the car she would have. Instead, all she could do was scream and try to protect herself by pressing her body as close to the car as she could. 

Tristan’s fists drove down into the demon’s shoulders. His surprise attack caught the demon just in time. Tristan was careful to avoid the fingernails. As the impact of Tristan’s cold body met the demon’s, they both collided with the hard gravel ground and rolled twice. The Sparkva grunted and then cried out, arching it’s back to try and free himself from Tristan’s weight. But Tristan expected that. He moved with his supernatural speed, his cold fists moving quickly from the demon’s shoulders to around his neck. Tristan’s fingers bit into the demon’s orange skin. He squeezed and then quickly twisted and pulled his grip upwards, severing the demon’s head from its neck. Just like that, the demon was dead.

Erika screamed again. Loudly. And then, she fainted.

Tristan shook himself and then turned to glance at the unconscious young woman. He sighed. He’d deal with her in a moment, but first he had to dispose of the demon’s remains. Thank goodness this was not a town that bustled with people at nearly three in the morning. It didn’t take him long to tear the demon’s corpse up and toss it into the dumpster. Then he simply lit a match and threw it in with the rest of the trash. He was careful enough to move the dumpster away from the building. He didn’t want the Road Kill Grill to be toast, after all.

Erika still had not stirred. He ran his fingers through his hair and again shook his head. It’s not that he ever expected thanks. Tristan knew he didn’t deserve it. Not after all the things he’d destroyed. Not after all the people he had destroyed. He knew he could never make amends and he never deserved anything else but the constant darkness and chill. Still, the night was long and lonely and silent, once the fighting was done.

Slowly he approached the fallen woman. As her warm scent filled his senses, his teeth elongated. His hunger for human blood was almost all consuming. He could hear it rushing and pumping and filling every part of her body. God, he ached for it. 

Tristan gritted his teeth and tucked his fangs behind his lips. He bent down and picked up the fallen keys. Without thinking about what he was doing, he unlocked her Chevy car, roughly extracted her from the ground, and not so gently tossed her into the passenger seat. Then he crawled behind the steering wheel and slammed the driver’s door. “Bloody awful car,” he muttered, firing up the engine. 

He never saw nor passed another living or unliving soul as he drove out of the parking lot and out of Searchlight’s city limits.

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