More (or less) Human than Human (Draft-will be rewritten)
"I am not one to care. Not about vampires nor their human familiars. I don't care about you either, you see. You are a tool. A stepping stone to finding a vaccine. It's in your blood. So your blood is all I care about." Her face was pressed roughly between his thumb, index and middle finger as he pinned her against the wall. Her pouty lips were pressed out in a tight rosebud as her eyes, round and angry, glared at him venomously. The warm breath of his words licked her lips as he whispered closely to her luxurious mouth, taking the time to pretend to be drawn to it and not understanding why he wasn't. Despite the fact that she had released his brother from being a vampire, a part of him held her responsible for not saving him. Who the hell knows? This one is not about to tell. "Some find comfort in my honesty." A slow toothy grin spread across his face. He was pretty sure that she had the desire to smash it in. Hell, if she gave him what he needed, he would give her the chance.
"Should have run when you had the chance. I told you to run. Didn't you believe me when I said that you could have a normal life again? You should have run."
Twisting her head to the side, she struggled out of his grasp and spat into his face. "I did not realise that I had to run from you. Are you deranged? Let me go." She hissed as he caught her lips between his own and bit down. The salty and coppery stain of her blood flowed onto his lip and he swallowed it like it was nectar from the gods. "God!" She yelled in a whimper as she pushed him away and blotted her lip with her hand. "Arsehole!" The slap stung the side of his cheek and caused his head to violently snap to the side. Now there was blood staining his own lips as he accidentally bit down on the inner bottom one. His dark eyes found her first and his head slowly turned to face her.
"Come now, Miranda. Stop pretending. We are too much alike for this charade. You feel nothing even though you wish you did. We are ghosts. I've seen you observe them with cold detachment." His hand reached out to run through her dark tresses. Getting to the ends, he grasped them like straw and pulled her closer. "You felt nothing for them even though you are a part of them. Humanity. You pick it apart not because you care but because you don't understand it. Don't feel apart of it. The only thing that reminds you that you are alive is pain."
"You bore me. Shut the fuck up and stick to observing cells under a microscope, will you?" He chuckled under his breath as she massaged her jaw. "Want my blood, do you? Could have asked, you utter prat. What the hell got into you?"
What got into him? That was a perfectly legitimate question with a completely illegitimate answer. He felt it as it crawled through his blood. The poisonous drug...the perfect drug. No. Stop. The haze passed through his eyes as he blinked through bleary eyes. He needed clarity. Needed...help...
"Yes, your blood." Uh-oh. He slightly swayed in his step and grabbed onto the wall. Fuuuuck me. It might be too late. The crime scene investigator looked him over analytically and with caution. Something was not right in a way that made her skin crawl.
"What's wrong with you?" Her heart thundered in her chest as she recognised the symptoms. "You're turning." She whispered hoarsely while sliding along the wall toward the door.
"No." He shook his head. "No." Not too certain though. "I-I don't know. Run, Miranda. Get out of here." He had injected himself with the compound that he had made that spliced out what made vampires, well, vampires, but left what gave them their strengths. Something wasn't working this time. Each time he tested it, it got worse, not better. He would have to figure out why. If he made it. The haze returned as his eyes grew dark. When he looked up what felt like five minutes later, she was still there.
"Didn't I tell you to run?" He didn't remember lunging at her, but he didn't remember the needle being stabbed into his side either. Her sarcastic tired voice was distant and cold when he heard her say: "I hope that this kills you, you sonofabitch, I do much better relating to the dead."
"Should have run when you had the chance. I told you to run. Didn't you believe me when I said that you could have a normal life again? You should have run."
Twisting her head to the side, she struggled out of his grasp and spat into his face. "I did not realise that I had to run from you. Are you deranged? Let me go." She hissed as he caught her lips between his own and bit down. The salty and coppery stain of her blood flowed onto his lip and he swallowed it like it was nectar from the gods. "God!" She yelled in a whimper as she pushed him away and blotted her lip with her hand. "Arsehole!" The slap stung the side of his cheek and caused his head to violently snap to the side. Now there was blood staining his own lips as he accidentally bit down on the inner bottom one. His dark eyes found her first and his head slowly turned to face her.
"Come now, Miranda. Stop pretending. We are too much alike for this charade. You feel nothing even though you wish you did. We are ghosts. I've seen you observe them with cold detachment." His hand reached out to run through her dark tresses. Getting to the ends, he grasped them like straw and pulled her closer. "You felt nothing for them even though you are a part of them. Humanity. You pick it apart not because you care but because you don't understand it. Don't feel apart of it. The only thing that reminds you that you are alive is pain."
"You bore me. Shut the fuck up and stick to observing cells under a microscope, will you?" He chuckled under his breath as she massaged her jaw. "Want my blood, do you? Could have asked, you utter prat. What the hell got into you?"
What got into him? That was a perfectly legitimate question with a completely illegitimate answer. He felt it as it crawled through his blood. The poisonous drug...the perfect drug. No. Stop. The haze passed through his eyes as he blinked through bleary eyes. He needed clarity. Needed...help...
"Yes, your blood." Uh-oh. He slightly swayed in his step and grabbed onto the wall. Fuuuuck me. It might be too late. The crime scene investigator looked him over analytically and with caution. Something was not right in a way that made her skin crawl.
"What's wrong with you?" Her heart thundered in her chest as she recognised the symptoms. "You're turning." She whispered hoarsely while sliding along the wall toward the door.
"No." He shook his head. "No." Not too certain though. "I-I don't know. Run, Miranda. Get out of here." He had injected himself with the compound that he had made that spliced out what made vampires, well, vampires, but left what gave them their strengths. Something wasn't working this time. Each time he tested it, it got worse, not better. He would have to figure out why. If he made it. The haze returned as his eyes grew dark. When he looked up what felt like five minutes later, she was still there.
"Didn't I tell you to run?" He didn't remember lunging at her, but he didn't remember the needle being stabbed into his side either. Her sarcastic tired voice was distant and cold when he heard her say: "I hope that this kills you, you sonofabitch, I do much better relating to the dead."