[Original: Fiction] "Once Bitten, Twice Sure" [Zeke Jones, PG]
Title: Once Bitten, Twice Sure
Prompt: writerverse challenge #25 scenario prompt (what would have happened if a character made a different choice)
Word Count: 1, 158
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Warnings: very mild non-graphic injuries mentioned
Summary: “Perhaps you do not like the direction your life has taken?”
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Once Bitten, Twice Sure
“Police,” I said clearly, keeping my weapon trained on the suspect. “Turn around slowly and hands where I can see them.”
The black-cloaked figure turned. She was younger than I’d expected, maybe thirty-five or forty, but she had the rest of the look down, from the wart on her nose to her pointed shoes- she had lost her pointy hat when I chased her down the alley.
She scowled at me. “Daughter of the night.”
I didn’t lower my gun. “Officer of the law.”
The witch shook her head. “A powerful creature such as you, reduced to a mere civil servant? A waste of power if ever I saw one.”
I ignored her. “You are under arrest, for vandalism, assault and resisting arrest. You have the right-”
“Or perhaps you do not embrace your new heritage?” she continued. “Perhaps you do not like the direction your life has taken?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” I said, really hoping she’d use it. “If you give up that right-”
“Your path has been a difficult one, child. But I could ease your way…”
I holstered my weapon and reached for my handcuffs. She didn’t have a weapon- because, really, where would she have put it in that dress?- so I had no way of knowing that when she reached a hand toward my face, I should have ducked.
Her fingers were icy cold, and they were the last thing I felt as my world spun into darkness.
*
I had been debating whether to take the subway home that night. It was late, much later than I usually worked, but I had been helping the children’s librarian set up for a program the next morning. The night air was warm as I walked down the front steps of the library, and it was only a few blocks to my apartment, especially if I took that shortcut through the alley behind the bakery. But it had been a long day, and it was very dark out.
I took the subway home.
The next morning, Olivia, the children’s librarian, grabbed me as I came in the door. “Zeke,” she said, “you didn’t walk home yesterday, did you?”
I shook my head, and she looked oddly disappointed. “Why?”
“There was an attack last night! A murder!”
Apparently, about the same time that I’d left the library, a woman had been attacked in the alley I used for a shortcut. Rumor was, it had been vampires.
Philadelphia had a fairly large vampire population, being a major metropolitan area, but they were horrible snobs. Even though they were most of them visible members of society, I had never met one. I’d also never heard of them attacking anyone, either- they did drink blood, or so I’d heard, but evidently they didn’t get it from random passerby on the street.
Still, it was enough to put the city on edge. I took the subway home for two full weeks, even though the weather was gorgeous.
By the end of three weeks and no further sign of the rogue vampire, I decided I was being ridiculous. I took my regular route home that night, including the alley behind the bakery, where all traces of the murder had been removed. I was almost to the end of it when I heard a low moan, and instinctively turned.
It was a man, propped up against the bakery dumpster. No, a cop- I could see the glint of his police badge in the dim light from the street.
“Hey,” I said, dropping to one knee beside him. He looked at me with hazel eyes that wouldn’t quite focus. “Hey, are you okay?”
He drew a wheezing breath. “Call…” he rasped. “Call it in.”
“Sure. Just hang on, okay? “My cell phone had died the day before, but I spotted the radio on his vest. “Hello?”
“Who is this?” asked a voice on the other end.
“I’m Zeke Jones,’ I said. How did they always say these things on those cop shows. “There’s an injured man. An officer down. Um…”
“Howell,” said the cop.
“Officer Howell,” I repeated, into the radio.
He was looking paler by the second, and his breathing was getting worse. He reached for the radio, but I caught his wrist. My fingers left streaks of red on his pale skin that took a moment to register.
“He’s bleeding,” I told the police dispatcher. “Oh, my god.”
The blood was hard to see against the dark blue of his uniform, but now that I was looking, I could see the ragged gash along his ribs. I shrugged out of my cardigan and wadded it up against his side.
“Vampire,” wheezed the cop, Howell. “Rogue vampire. Tell ‘em…”
“I will,” I said. “Hello, dispatch? Officer Howell says it was a vampire, a rogue.”
“Copy,” said the radio. “Miss? An ambulance is on the way. Can you perform any first aid?”
“I am,” I said, “but please hurry.”
I could hear more voices on the radio, talking to each other, but I stopped listening when Howell wrapped fingers around my wrist, surprisingly strong for how bad he looked. “Jones,” he said.
Had he heard me tell the radio dispatch person my name? He must have. I lifted the sweater to check his wounds, and quickly put it back- I wasn’t usually bothered by the sight of blood, but I was starting to feel lightheaded.
“Jones,” he said again.
I pressed a little harder on the makeshift bandage, ignoring the dark spots creeping into my vision. I would not let this man die.
“Jones!”
He was the injured one, so why was I feeling so weak? It felt like lead flowing through my veins, weighing me down, coldness spreading through every muscle.
“Hezekia!”
My eyes snapped open.
I was standing in the alley behind the bakery, staring into the worried face of my partner. His hands were tight around my biceps, holding up most of my weight. For a moment, I blinked up at him, then broke free to fling my arms around his neck.
“You’re not dying!” I cried.
“No,” he agreed, catching me automatically and patting my shoulder a little awkwardly. “But I thought you might be. What happened?”
Over his shoulder, I could see another pair of cops, Ling and Corman, putting the witch in the back of their patrol car.
“I think I was drugged,” I said. “And hallucinating. I… I think I saw what my life would have been if I hadn’t been Bitten.”
“And?” Howell prompted, softly.
I had never asked to be a vampire. That Bite had changed my entire life, completely and forever, in a direction I could never have imagined, in ways I was still figuring out.
But not all changes were bad.
“And,” I said, standing on my own again. “I think I’m exactly where you should be.”
Howell offered me a rare smile. “Yes, you are.”
THE END
Current Mood:
crappy
Prompt: writerverse challenge #25 scenario prompt (what would have happened if a character made a different choice)
Word Count: 1, 158
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Warnings: very mild non-graphic injuries mentioned
Summary: “Perhaps you do not like the direction your life has taken?”
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Once Bitten, Twice Sure
“Police,” I said clearly, keeping my weapon trained on the suspect. “Turn around slowly and hands where I can see them.”
The black-cloaked figure turned. She was younger than I’d expected, maybe thirty-five or forty, but she had the rest of the look down, from the wart on her nose to her pointed shoes- she had lost her pointy hat when I chased her down the alley.
She scowled at me. “Daughter of the night.”
I didn’t lower my gun. “Officer of the law.”
The witch shook her head. “A powerful creature such as you, reduced to a mere civil servant? A waste of power if ever I saw one.”
I ignored her. “You are under arrest, for vandalism, assault and resisting arrest. You have the right-”
“Or perhaps you do not embrace your new heritage?” she continued. “Perhaps you do not like the direction your life has taken?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” I said, really hoping she’d use it. “If you give up that right-”
“Your path has been a difficult one, child. But I could ease your way…”
I holstered my weapon and reached for my handcuffs. She didn’t have a weapon- because, really, where would she have put it in that dress?- so I had no way of knowing that when she reached a hand toward my face, I should have ducked.
Her fingers were icy cold, and they were the last thing I felt as my world spun into darkness.
*
I had been debating whether to take the subway home that night. It was late, much later than I usually worked, but I had been helping the children’s librarian set up for a program the next morning. The night air was warm as I walked down the front steps of the library, and it was only a few blocks to my apartment, especially if I took that shortcut through the alley behind the bakery. But it had been a long day, and it was very dark out.
I took the subway home.
The next morning, Olivia, the children’s librarian, grabbed me as I came in the door. “Zeke,” she said, “you didn’t walk home yesterday, did you?”
I shook my head, and she looked oddly disappointed. “Why?”
“There was an attack last night! A murder!”
Apparently, about the same time that I’d left the library, a woman had been attacked in the alley I used for a shortcut. Rumor was, it had been vampires.
Philadelphia had a fairly large vampire population, being a major metropolitan area, but they were horrible snobs. Even though they were most of them visible members of society, I had never met one. I’d also never heard of them attacking anyone, either- they did drink blood, or so I’d heard, but evidently they didn’t get it from random passerby on the street.
Still, it was enough to put the city on edge. I took the subway home for two full weeks, even though the weather was gorgeous.
By the end of three weeks and no further sign of the rogue vampire, I decided I was being ridiculous. I took my regular route home that night, including the alley behind the bakery, where all traces of the murder had been removed. I was almost to the end of it when I heard a low moan, and instinctively turned.
It was a man, propped up against the bakery dumpster. No, a cop- I could see the glint of his police badge in the dim light from the street.
“Hey,” I said, dropping to one knee beside him. He looked at me with hazel eyes that wouldn’t quite focus. “Hey, are you okay?”
He drew a wheezing breath. “Call…” he rasped. “Call it in.”
“Sure. Just hang on, okay? “My cell phone had died the day before, but I spotted the radio on his vest. “Hello?”
“Who is this?” asked a voice on the other end.
“I’m Zeke Jones,’ I said. How did they always say these things on those cop shows. “There’s an injured man. An officer down. Um…”
“Howell,” said the cop.
“Officer Howell,” I repeated, into the radio.
He was looking paler by the second, and his breathing was getting worse. He reached for the radio, but I caught his wrist. My fingers left streaks of red on his pale skin that took a moment to register.
“He’s bleeding,” I told the police dispatcher. “Oh, my god.”
The blood was hard to see against the dark blue of his uniform, but now that I was looking, I could see the ragged gash along his ribs. I shrugged out of my cardigan and wadded it up against his side.
“Vampire,” wheezed the cop, Howell. “Rogue vampire. Tell ‘em…”
“I will,” I said. “Hello, dispatch? Officer Howell says it was a vampire, a rogue.”
“Copy,” said the radio. “Miss? An ambulance is on the way. Can you perform any first aid?”
“I am,” I said, “but please hurry.”
I could hear more voices on the radio, talking to each other, but I stopped listening when Howell wrapped fingers around my wrist, surprisingly strong for how bad he looked. “Jones,” he said.
Had he heard me tell the radio dispatch person my name? He must have. I lifted the sweater to check his wounds, and quickly put it back- I wasn’t usually bothered by the sight of blood, but I was starting to feel lightheaded.
“Jones,” he said again.
I pressed a little harder on the makeshift bandage, ignoring the dark spots creeping into my vision. I would not let this man die.
“Jones!”
He was the injured one, so why was I feeling so weak? It felt like lead flowing through my veins, weighing me down, coldness spreading through every muscle.
“Hezekia!”
My eyes snapped open.
I was standing in the alley behind the bakery, staring into the worried face of my partner. His hands were tight around my biceps, holding up most of my weight. For a moment, I blinked up at him, then broke free to fling my arms around his neck.
“You’re not dying!” I cried.
“No,” he agreed, catching me automatically and patting my shoulder a little awkwardly. “But I thought you might be. What happened?”
Over his shoulder, I could see another pair of cops, Ling and Corman, putting the witch in the back of their patrol car.
“I think I was drugged,” I said. “And hallucinating. I… I think I saw what my life would have been if I hadn’t been Bitten.”
“And?” Howell prompted, softly.
I had never asked to be a vampire. That Bite had changed my entire life, completely and forever, in a direction I could never have imagined, in ways I was still figuring out.
But not all changes were bad.
“And,” I said, standing on my own again. “I think I’m exactly where you should be.”
Howell offered me a rare smile. “Yes, you are.”
THE END
Current Mood:
crappy