Victor just couldn't get her mind(his mind just a few moments ago) off the smell of blood, the aroma of flesh,
and of serving the will of her mistress with full dedication. It consumed her to the point of obsession,
knowing how wrong it was, knowing that she wasn't supposed to be feeling this way...that she was really human.
And that she was really a he--, a man. Not this little slinky spawn of Satan. But the more she struggled
against her nature, the harder it became. She started jerking her body involuntarily, almost manifesting
physically the wrestling that was going on between her vampire "un-soul"(for lack of a better term) and her
still present but thoroughly depleted human soul.
Tim watched with the smug satisfaction that only an evil being could possess. He didn't realize it, but his
soul too was struggling to get out of the hold, the spell that the more powerful demon side of him was putting
him under. Tim had been a skeptic all his life. Not only did he not believe in the supernatural until today,
he wouldn't even allow himself to engage in things that he any magical paraphernalia in it at all. When he was
six, instead of having a magician at his birthday party, his parents had a guy who brought dozens of lizards
and snakes to his house. Instead of reading "Dr. Strange" comics, he settled for Fantastic Four. Instead of
reading Harry Potter, he watched old Doctor Who episodes or read Neal Stephenson's novels. Paul was always the
more gullible one, the D&D freak, the one who believed that magic could exist, and if it did, it didn't
necessarily ruin the fragile continuum that humanity had dug out for itself via the wonders of science.
As Tim watched the bartender shake and moan in pain, the two would be victims continued to play cards and chat
among themselves, seemingly oblivious to the internal showdown that was going down a few feet in front of
them. Victor still battled against his vampiric urges, now urging him in a sweet, feminine, tempting voice
that it was OK to give in. That the two fellows in front of him weren't meant for anything important, that
nobody would miss them since they had no families to go home to...that they tasted so good. That vampires were
above humans on the food chain, that they didn't understand the dark underbelly of nature as well as dark
beings like vampires did...that it was in your nature now to consume like a wild animal...
"No" he said to the demon inside of him. He wouldn't do it. With a sigh, he continued to resist not running
over and bite their throats off right now.
"Ah!" she screamed, suddenly taking a glass mug and smashing it against her head, breaking it into little
fragments on the floor. Her head started to bleed, but since it was now a living corpse, no pain was felt.
What was going on? Was the vampiress inside punishing Victor for not turning, or was Victor punishing the
vampiress for trying to turn him? Maybe it was both. The struggle went on unabated for a few more minutes, in
between the raucous laughter of the two men in the back sharing a private joke between themselves.
"Enough" stated Tim regally. "Come here." The vampiress' body suddenly started accelerating toward Tim,
standing face front in front of her, entirely against either Victor's or the vampiress' will.
"Maybe I was wrong about you. You want to be a martyr? No blood stains off my clothes."
Tim's finger nail for his right index started to grow and harden. The curve of it started to appreciate,
becoming far sharper and pointier than maybe any nail in history. Within moments, it was at least a foot long,
now more of an appendage than anything.
With her left elbow, Tim hooked on the reluctant vampiress' waist and pointed her nail directly on Victor's
heart.
"See you in Hell, I suppose."
Just as Tim was about to stake Victor's heart and turn her into but ash, a hunk of rock salt suddenly pelted
both of Tim's eyes, blinding her.
"Ah!" Tim screamed, suddenly blinded and coming to the realization how far he had fallen down the demon hole.
And not even a half hour into it, either. He was pathetic.
"Ma'am, drink this" he heard, reaching out for whatever the men in the back were offering him. He received
nothing, it was for the bartender.
"It's synthetic blood" Tim heard the other voice say. "We can't turn you back into a human man ourselves, but
we can refer you to a good guy who'll fix you up and remove the nascent demon inside of you. This card right
here."
Tim heard but did not see the man give the bartender, Victor, a business card.
"And as for you" said the second voice, suddenly talking in Tim's direction. "You're late. We've been waiting
at least two hours for you to arrive, according to your energy signature anyway."
"What? Who are you?" asked Tim, totally confused. They had looked like a couple of older guys playing cards,
but evidently they were more than that. "Secret identities" Tim thought. "Figures".
Who are the two men?