A Toiling Darkness
Jaliza A Burwell
A Toiling Darkness
By Jaliza A Burwell
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2015 by Jaliza A Burwell
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/dormantwing
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
More From the Author
Reyna's Blood: Her Reality (Book One)
Coming Soon:
Reyna's Blood Book Two in March 2016
To Jonathan for loving this story so much.
Chapter One:
The woman caught my attention the moment she entered the alley. And not because her ass was hanging out of her short leather skirt or her breasts were nearly tumbling out of her blouse. It wasn’t even because she was stumbling around, completely plastered at two in the morning. I mean, she should know better by now. Don’t go into dark scary alleyways. Nothing good ever happens.
No, none of that got my attention. What did was the fact that she just became part of a scheme. A bloodborn down there has his sights on a soon-to-be mugger and the mugger now had his sights on the woman. The mugger-to-be was going to attack the woman and then when he was busy focusing on her, the bloodborn in the dark corner was going to take him down and call him dinner. It was a classic attack-while-they’re-distracted method.
Help them. They’re young and weak, and don’t deserve to be killed like this.
I snorted as El’s words from long past as they came to the forefront of my mind. Sorry El, but if they wanted to spend their nights sleuthing around in alleyways, then they got what was coming. Besides bloodborns have to eat too. Who was I to deny them a dinner?
Correction, vampires. Bloodborns were called vampires now. When one particular vampire made himself well known and coined the term vampire, creating legends about his kind, the other pires supported him. I thought he was just an attention seeking idiot and my opinion wasn’t going to change anytime soon—if ever. They are still bloodborns to me and will always be, but the humans knew them only as vampires and only as legends now, nothing real. They were only something fun to create movies and stories about to romanticize their existence. I wonder what would happen if they realize their vampires were real. Would they still want to have a romance with them?
I mean, I’m sure there are all kinds of fun for those who liked to toe the line between life and death. And I’m sure making out with a being who could only think about the blood pulsing through your veins is on the top ten lists of all line-poking enthusiasts. It definitely doesn’t make it on my list of things to do.
I looked back down into the alley, deciding to stay and watch. Why not? I got front row seats to the whole show, just the way I liked it. I sat on top of a building, my feet dangling and just waited patiently.
My body vibrated with unshed laughter. The bloodborn was still crouched down as the mugger tried to hide deeper into the darkness. He wasn’t doing a good job of it, at least to my eyes. The drunk woman stumbled to the wall and dug through her purse, cursing as she tried to find something. If she was smart enough, it was her phone to call for a ride. If she wasn’t then it was probably for a cigarette. She didn’t find whatever it was and cursed some more. The mugger had to be less than ten feet away and she still didn’t notice him, too focused on her little misfortune.
It was too damn funny. So evident that he was right there. Humans were so blind to their surroundings.
I felt a little generous and manipulated the darkness to wrap around the bloodborn who waited even deeper in the shadows than the mugger. This was the kind of night I needed—a night out in a city full of unsuspecting humans.
The bloodborn stiffened as he became alert. Though he didn’t fully understand what the moving darkness meant, the dangers I kept hidden in them, he knew they meant someone bad was nearby. Me to be exact. He looked up slowly and blanched when he spotted me. I smiled and jerked my head towards the humans.
You. Humans. Go for it.
I thought supportive thoughts, wanting a nice show out of it. I needed a good memory of the city before I left for a while.
Getting the message, the bloodborn smiled. He held a vile smile on vile lips that showed off his long pointy teeth. I wiggled my fingers at him in a childish acknowledgement and enjoyed myself as the scene was about to unfold. He turned back to his prey, feeling more confident now that he was so well hidden.
It was a simple scenario for tonight. A woman being stalked by a mugger who was being stalked by a bloodborn. I could already tell the scene was going to be quick, the script only a page long, if that. Still, a lot could happen in a very short amount of time, and I sat here, too curious about how it was all going to play out.
I was always curious about something. It could range to watching children playing in a park so innocently to beings preying on humans or my personal favorite, humans preying on humans. More times than I can count, it has been humans preying on humans.
And they like to call us the monsters.
She’s the devil’s child! A monster!
Kill her! Burn her alive!
I snorted at the jumbled memories.
I wasn’t any more a monster than the bloodborn. We all just want to survive in a shitty world. Eat when we needed to, sleep in peace, and just live. Instead we hide because humans will always out populate us and we don’t need another witch-hunt going global.
I watched patiently, nearly holding my breath in anticipation. One thing I learned, being alive for so damn long, was to wait. It’s all I ever do, especially now. Wait. Maybe I’ll figure out what it is exactly that I’m waiting for.
The scene began when the mugger finally decided his best chance was now, so he attacked. He grabbed the woman by her high ponytail and yanked her back, pressing his knife against her neck. The woman screamed and tried to fight back, but like I mentioned—she was too intoxicated. The struggle only caused her to throw up all over the front of the mugger when she managed to face him and tried to push him away. Instead, her weak attempt to fight turned into a grasp for an anchor as she bent over and hurled. She just wasn’t able to take the sudden movements. Surprise, surprise. Not really.
The mugger cursed with disgust as he shoved her away. The woman’s little purse was in his hands, so he got what he really wanted. Instead of leaving, like he should have, he stood there for a few moments, his chest heaving with adrenaline as he stared down at his victim. His mind worked through an idea that fluttered around, his adrenaline pumping a little too much for him to be able to completely grasp it. When he finally did catch it, his body broadcasted those thoughts loud and clear and they weren’t pretty. He was considering raping the woman, even after she threw up all over his jeans and shoes.
Disgustingness at its finest.
One of my little talents is reading people—no thanks to endless years of experiences. I can look at someone and easily get into their heads and figure out what they were thinking, especially if they were filled with pessimism. Pessimism called to the darkness and I was the one who answered.
Even now, I could feel h
is thoughts knocking at my psych, demanding attention. It made me hate my little talent, even if it saved my neck time and time again. There was nothing more uncomfortable than seeing into the mind of someone like his. His mind wasn’t dark; if it were, I would enjoy it. No, his mind was desperate, just plain desperate for things he wanted and couldn’t have. Pure greed.
Ugh, his thoughts were making me feel dirty.
At this point, the woman was nearly passed out on the ground, her cheek pressing against the dark asphalt, probably in something vile like piss or whatever else accumulates in alleyways. I was about to leave, not interested in seeing someone raped, but the mugger never made it passed his consideration. The bloodborn finally made his move and attacked. It was a completely boring and one-sided fight. The man didn’t even have a chance to scream. His mouth gaped open and before the scream ever left his throat, his neck was broken. The being buried his face into his neck and fed, his mouth feeding off the mugger’s blood.
Aaaand scene. A very quick script. Kind of disappointing really. I liked my shows with a little more action. A little more blood and fighting.
I stood up, dusting off my frilly dress, and wavered on the ledge of the building as I balanced my way back to the front.
This city was everything I needed. It was simple to hide here, with an endless supply of old abandoned buildings built hundred of years ago and enough tall buildings to create all the darkness I needed to enjoy myself.
Yeah, Rheems was just the kind of city I needed. This place was definitely better than New York City, with all its glass buildings and too many lights. Rheems worked hard to keep its history, and travelers from all over came here to see what kind of history it held so close to its chest. There was the tourist-attracting harbor that wedged itself into the city. The transit system was simple and easy, and contributed to the unnatural loss of tourists. If someone wanted to disappear, all they had to do was come here and throw themselves into the arms of strangers. Especially when more than thirty percent of the city’s occupants were beings like the bloodborn and me. A lot of them didn’t mind the extra snacks the unsuspecting tourists provided, especially when they practically delivered themselves into the arms of a hungry being.
I’ll have to thank Lord Kay later for finally convincing me to try out this city—if I ever see him again, and I’d rather not. Though it seems that lately, I’ve been seeing him more than I cared to, which is not at all.
A noise broke my thoughts. The sound was a mixture of a scream and a moan, followed by nothing but the sounds of cabs honking and people laughing as they went about their night. Something else had happened in the alley. I turned around and squinted, hoping to see anything that would give me a clue of what that noise was. Nothing. My curiosity got the best of me and I turned to go back.
What could have gone wrong in such a short time?
Dumb question.
I was in a world where anything was possible. Maybe another hunter showed up. How fitting that would be too, to have a hunter turning into the hunted, falling prey to another.
I took all of five steps when a man jumped up onto the building, using strength that would give pause to any human—if they weren’t already running away. The newcomer was tall, a little over six feet. Then again, everything seemed tall to me. My form was of a preteen, a pale little girl with curly blonde hair held back with a black bow and big blue eyes. I enjoyed being small. Others looked down at me and knew I was better than them, that they couldn’t kill me even if they wanted to. And if they dared, they died trying.
The man dropped the body of the bloodborn. His chest was torn out, eyes open and blank. There was nothing vile about the bloodborn any longer. He was just dead. The man turned, using the shadows to keep his features hidden. I flicked my hand and removed them with a simple thought.
If Darkness commands, darkness concedes. Hence my name, Darkness. At least my current name.
The shadows receded and the man stood in front of me in all his glory. He was amazing. His eyes were a radiating dark brown, filled with a power that hummed through his entire body unchecked. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow and his hair a shimmering black. The dimple in his chin added a sense of boyishness to him. There was this soft glow around him, as if while it was nighttime, it couldn’t quite touch him. And he wasn’t rejecting the darkness either. There was this edge of compatibility to his soft glow and the night. I tried to tear my eyes away from him with difficulty and eventually just gave up.
What could I say? I was attracted to anything dark and he fit my image of the perfect man. Somehow looking at him, he just felt right to me. Which only made me think he was bad news, really bad news.
Nothing good ever comes out of handsome men. Lord Kay was a classic example.
“A little girl?” the man asked, sounding bewildered.
I glared at him, pouting my lips and putting my hands on my small waist.
“So what?” I finally asked after giving him another once over. He even shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the rooftop as if someone should be up here with me. “What’s wrong with being like this?”
“You saw what happened in the alley?” His voice carried easily to me and I could taste the concern in his words.
Concern?
I looked at the man again. He had a guarded look, but he was still inexperienced and his dark chocolate eyes gave him away. He knew I saw the scene that happened down below and he was worried about me.
Was I supposed to be freaking out? Crying? Screaming bloody murder? He was expecting something and wasn’t getting it and it was throwing him off. Well, he can expect all he wanted, he still wasn’t going to the reaction he wanted from me.
“What do you want?” I asked him.
He blinked, surprised by my question. The question did come out a little snippy. His brows furrowed as he tried to unjumble his thoughts.
“How old are you?” he finally asked.
I was tempted to tell him I wasn’t some child, that I was older than dirt. I wanted to watch him try to wrap his mind around it. I only held back because I couldn’t figure out what he was all about.
“And what about you? Who are you? Why are you here?”
Where did you even come from?
Even now I couldn’t really sense him. He had to have been nearby when the bloodborn attacked and yet I felt nothing. I always knew when a being was nearby, I could sense them in the darkness—little bleeps on my radar. And yet nothing from him. He was a blank space.
Already he was a confusing man and we’ve barely said ten words to each other.
I couldn’t call him a being of the night. He just didn’t have that flavor. He wasn’t a hunter, nor the hunted. That confused me even more because everyone was one or the other in my mind. I couldn’t even say he was human. Not when he leaped up six stories onto the roof while carrying a dead body. There was also this random feeling of familiarity to him, as if I should know him.
I shook my head and waited for a response, watching him cautiously. He stepped towards me, not saying anything, and I stepped back, keeping my distance. I understood beings and had lived long enough to know when something wasn’t right with one of them.
This man hit my intuitive radar as something different, possibly dangerous.
“You’re not human.”
He paused, not liking my statement. His reaction was like I called him scum or something. His face showed the disgust. The stranger was handsome with the square jaw and smooth dark skin. Kind of like an everlasting tan those orange women are always jealous of. Maybe they should try the beach instead of the tanning booths for the more natural look.
He looked me up and down, realization dawning on him. “Neither are you.”
“Hmph. Why did you kill him?” I pointed to the body. It wasn’t my business why, but like I said, I’m a curious little thing.
If he wasn’t a hunter, then why go out of his way to kill a bloodborn? No being would interfere with another over something like
this. He glanced down, then back at me. His concern was still there, but now he was on guard, probably realizing I was more than I seemed.
Good. He wasn’t as dumb as I thought. Definitely slow on the uptake though.
“Why did you let him kill that man in the alley?” He cocked his head in puzzlement. “Never mind, forget I asked. You’re what? Twelve?”
I said nothing, silence being my best friend.
“Shouldn’t you be home, with your parents or something?”
I bit down the inside of my cheek, holding back a laugh. My parents?
He could only see me as a little girl. That was a first. No one ever saw me as just a little girl, even the humans. They looked at me and just knew.
I was Darkness. My name, my whole existence, everything about me radiated darkness. I was the root of most fears, the foundation of most horror stories, and the cause of all nightmares. In different parts of the world, I was even a legend.
Someone didn’t get the memo.
Hell, I’m in existence because of humans’ fear of the dark during a time period where fire was a rare commodity. Dirty little humans would huddle around their small fires in hopes of casting the darkness away. Of casting me away. When man learned to draw pictures thirty thousand years ago, some of their pictures were warnings against me. They created me and then casted me away. Human was something I never was. Parents aren’t something I ever had.
“If I’m not human, then why do I need parents?” I asked. I’m always surrounded by beings who already knew better and humans who wouldn’t even be able to grasp the reality of our existence. He was like a newborn, so unfamiliar with the world around him.
He blushed and mumbled something underneath his breath. It was kind of cute, not that I would dare call a handsome man cute. Wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s balls. “My apologies, I guess I’m still getting used to this.”
Aha, he was a newborn.
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