Blood Juniper A Vampire Tale - Volume 1 Chapter 53 One Thing After Another Part 1

“You’ve been awful quiet. It’s starting to worry me.”

Ash stares blankly into the dirt. Her toe is pointed and circling to draw a picture in the filth. It’s somewhat ther.a.p.eutic, as if she’s flushing all the lingering madness from Allure into the earth with her twirling foot.

The prickly bricks scr.a.p.e against my jacket as I shift against the wall to view her directly.

Her lids hang heavy, features expressionless. We’ve been hiding out in the back alley to recover for sometime. Did Allure scar her? Did she go catatonic?

I touch her shoulder, “Please say something so I don’t have a brain aneurysm.”

She stops padding the ground to gaze up at me with those liquid eyes. They are a swirl of harlequin behind her curling babydoll lashes.

She blinks with sluggish effort and responds in a far off tone, “Thank you for getting me out of there. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?” I stare at her hard.

She searches the low hanging clouds in the alley, pursuing her lips ever so slightly.

“What happened in there wasn’t your fault. It was just bad luck,” I affirm but she’s hardly reacting to anything I’m saying. What could be troubling her? “Hey, we didn’t murder anyone, thats a miracle in its own right.”

Still fairly stone faced, probably traumatized. I’m desensitized to what vampires are capable of, I attempt to be sympathetic, “I’m sorry you had to see all of that. I know that was a lot and it was really… upsetting. I wish I could’ve kept you from it.”

There’s a humming sound that gurgles from her throat almost like a callous chuckle. Ash can be snarky but I haven’t seen her express such cold indifference. I stare somewhat baffled by it.

“I think I’m pretending to be shocked and horrified by what happened in there. I mean, I am a little shaken by it, but not as much as I should be.”

I wait for her to continue, listening intently and interested.

She closes her eyes, her features scrunch in a lightly salted expression before clarifying, “My reasons for wanting to go down there were not entirely innocent. I was definitely curious but I had some vague idea of what happens in Allure. I just don’t want to admit that that”

She looks straight into my eyes, they are full of self-disappointment. It tugs at me in an uncomfortable way. It’s undeserved, she has no reason to berate herself.

She breathes deep, finishing her thought, “That a part of me is seeking it out. A part of me wants to drink and be violent and hurt and murder innocent people. I can still hear the death screams in my head And I’m not entirely disgusted by it.”

The look in her eyes is breaking my heart and angering me. Why is she beating herself up? She hasn’t done anything wrong.

She turns away and glowers at the dirt, “I want to be a good person, but I’m not,” her voice has hushed into a faint whisper, “I’ve become a monster.”

“No,” I assert with such volition it could be mistaken for fury, “That is not true.”

I’m in front of her locking eyes with her.

“You are a good person. Hell, if you were religious you’d be considered a saint. If you’re a monster then the rest of us are completely irredeemable, humans are no exception.”

Her eyebrows are raised now, mouth curved round in surprise.

“So, you have a little devil on your shoulder, so what? Everyone does. The bottom line is, I have met few people as kind, well intentioned and forgiving as you.”

“You’re exaggerating. If what you say is true, then why do I want to do bad things?”

I give a short laugh, “Everyone wants to do bad things. It only counts if you actually do it.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t know how you got me out of that club, Sam. I wanted to kill so desperately it made me physically ache. Kill violently, too! I couldn’t think straight, I could have hurt you, you know. I’ve never had this crazy urge to do terrible things, never.”

“Being hungry is not your fault. It’s theirs for tasting so damn good, it’s criminal.”

I get a small smile from her as she snorts at that, but she is still down on herself. I hate to see her suffer. If there was a way, I’d take it away, take on the extra hunger if it came down to it. Shit, that would blow Bloodstruck out of the water. I’d be max security asylum levels raving. And I’m not exactly sane to start.

But I *would* do it, for her. That’s a bit terrifying, what does that say about me?

I shake the thought and smirk ruefully at her, “Ashlen, you couldn’t be bad if you tried.”

That chipped at her funk, she glares at me, “You won’t be saying that when I rip someone’s head off.”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m old and wise.”

Now I get a real laugh, “Ah, yes. How old exactly?”

I’m going to keep her guessing until the end of time, “Older than you. And you’re in a sour mood because you didn’t get a proper dinner. So, how about we go somewhere a bit safer to eat?”

Her face melts into its former shape as she sighs, “I guess we should.”

“Great, let’s,” I take her hand and lead her out of our hideout before she has second thoughts.

It’s unearthly still compared to the dance club. Odd, like stepping onto solid ground after sailing on rocky waters.

The gray clouds shroud overhead like a massive tree. It creeps lower pressing us in, like we’re being tucked and shipped away inside a cardboard box.

The leaves whisper and gossip in the quiet. A green shuddering against the grey, brown and black. There’s trampled grass weaving its way through the crumbling payment, springing out and splitting it apart slowly but surely.

Not many are roaming about the unmoving streets late on a Thursday. It’s starting to get too cold for most.

“Avoid Fifth and Cuckoo Burrow Road. I used to work at a late night diner over there,” Ash cautions, still melancholy.

Noted, good to know.

I notice she’s got a leftovers smeared stiff on her cheek and chin. We should clean up before approaching anyone.

“Let’s go wash up at that little convenience store. Don’t go for anyone inside though, these places always have cameras,” I grumble, it’s trickier to be inconspicuous as technology advances. I have my ways of redirecting suspicion, but Ash isn’t equipped with that kind of fall back.

The automatic door shimmies aside, it’s more pittful than wobbly ninety year old scooting around with a cane. A very sad, off-key chime announces our arrival as we step onto an ugly brown mat that used to be red judging on the edges.

A bored clerk pays us no mind. He grinds a stale piece of gum between his back molars in noisy open mouth chews. His glassy eyes are glued to an outdated TV set playing the local news.

There are two others perusing the junk food. Their heartbeats are timed like drumming fingers on a desk.

Ash and I wander to an opening along the side wall. To my surprise there are two single stall bathrooms. I was concerned a high caliber establishment such as this wouldn’t even have one.

Ashlen mindlessly pushes the ladies restroom wide. She looks up and sharply gasps, her hand wraps around her mouth, “Oh, jeez!”

“What is it?” I peek inside, public bathrooms do have the tendency to be quite frightening. I find a dingy mirror straight ahead. Ashlen’s eyes are averted from the reflection.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had blood all over?” she chides low with embarrassment, “I look like a walking horror. I nearly scared the crap out of myself.”

I chuckle, “You don’t look that bad. I’m not exactly squeaky clean either.”

She glares at me, “You barely have any on your face. I’m a mess!”

I shrug, “I wouldn’t exactly call you a mess, I’ve seen much worse.”

I’ve been covered in it before.

I turn to the adjacent bathroom pushing it open and enter, “You’ll feel better once you clean it off your face. The lingering fragrance can be agitating.”

I close the door with my foot and wrinkle my nose at the damp, musty odor leaking out of the walls.

I glance up at speckled ceiling tiles. Very unsightly, it’s as if termites had burrowed holes in the textured fiberglass. Some are discolored with yellow stains from humidity and one is caved in from a crack down the middle. An aroma of vinegar and chalkiness is fuming behind one of the hideous corner tiles. It appears someone is stashing a good amount of drugs up there. Top notch, what a ritzy place.

I twist the knob on the filthy sink and snag a paper towel. There’s a split in the bottom corner of the spotty mirror.

The cheap paper is streaked orange when I’m finished. I crumple it up and toss the wad over my shoulder into the overflowing bin.

I inspect myself then meet my own gaze. Decades and my appearance hasn’t changed. I should have grey and white hair springing out of my head, should be covered in aging lines. Wrinkles, sunken eyes, skin mushing against the bone.

Nope, I’ll look twenty-two until the end. I suppose my hair is a bit more unruly then it used to be, can’t really be bothered with it anymore. Oh well, what can you do?

One thing did change, though. I didn’t kill tonight. I can’t believe it but I’m sure pleased about it, relieved.

I catch myself grinning like an idiot. A small victory, I’ll allow a little bit of basking. It’s good to appreciate the small things.

Twenty-two forever. Well, maybe not forever. My smile slips thinking about the Psychic twins. Self destructive, hmm? I don’t need to be told what my future holds, I have a plan. Self destructive or not the end goal is what matters.

What would my life have been like if I had never died? Would I be married, had kids, a house with a white picket fence and all the other common life things? Would I have had *grandchildren*? Strange, that’s really strange to think about what could have been.

I wouldn’t know half the people I know today. Ash and I would have never met, she probably would have gone on living normally too. The thought of never meeting is acutely painful.

That’s a selfish hurt. It would be so much better for her if we never found her to begin with. We should have never met.

My hands are clenching at the thought of not being with her, my chest feels like it’s folding in on my lungs. What is my malfunction?

My thoughts are drift to other things that could have been different. I think about my mother, remembering her ageless beauty. Would I be able to recognize her still? The odd pain in my chest applifies a little more, sucking all of my insides slowly into the center. I miss her and… my father.

I catch my hand is mindlessly creeping to pocket that always holds my stepfather’s watch. My jaw ticks.

I am the worst parts of him and none of the good that my father was.

In fact, I put his very worst to shame.

Groan out in frustration and jamming my fingers into my eye sockets. Not the time, not the time to mope, reminisce, dwell or regret None of that.

I forcefully shove it all out, burrowing my fingers into my eyes. Suck it up, switch it off. Done.

I exit the washroom and small cubby to the main store. I lean against the wall to wait.

Triumph is so short lived. I’ve been accused of being downer more than a few times. We all have our burdens to carry and grief is the heaviest. Am I the pessimist for noticing the source of the weight? Suppose so, cynicism and awareness must go hand and hand.

I examine a dark haired girl holding a bag of ch.i.p.s to keep my mind preoccupied.

She has one streak of artificial red pulled into a messy bun. Her shoulders are slouched as she holds the bag out, peering into it for much too long like she’s staring into an abyss. Seems she’s having a tough day too.

I overhear the local news about some disappearance, missing persons are all too common in New Corvis.

Ashlen scuttles out of the bathroom with a haggard sigh.

The dark haired girl glances over out of the corner of her eye, looking equally as dismal. We could all commiserate together if she wasn’t so appetizing. A spicy scent is wafting from her sweater.

The girl jerks her head in a double take motion at Ashlen. Her eye squint and her eyebrows dip low, like she needs prescription glasses. Then her eyebrows arch like two cliff top in an awestruck expression. Oh no, what is Ash doing?

I crane my neck to check on her, nothing. She’s zoning out staring at some illuminated bottles behind a windowed fridge.

“Ash?”

We both stare at the girl. Oh great, who’d we run into now?

“No way, Ashlen! Where have you been?”

The girl runs over and grabs by her forearm. The two girls gawk heavily at each other.

“Holy shit, it *is* you!” The woman exclaims, “What the hell happened? Are you ok? Everyone has been freaking out! They kind of fired you at the third no show but nevermind that! I’m so relieved to see you. Everyone thought you died, like taken out by the mafia or some shit!”

Not good, I need to take care of this. A cool mint sensation immediately flood my system right on cue. Ash is speechless as the girl bombards her with more questions and endless exclamations.

“No one could get through to your phone and your apartment! Ash, the cops are searching for you! Seriously, tell me you’re ok!”

“Jill, is this a friend of yours?”

They both turn to look my way. Ash catches on almost immediately, she looks displeased pressing her lips together. She knows what has to be done, even if she doesn’t like it.

“*Jill*? Ash, who is this? Why is he calling you Jill?”

“I think you’re mistaking her for someone else. We don’t know an Ash.”

“What! Dude, are you high? This is one hundred percent my missing friend! Ash, what the hell is going on!” She flips her head back to me with balled fists and a scowl, it’s going to take a little extra effort to convince her. She’s skeptical, self assured and her mind is pretty secure, “Who are you? Do anything funny and I’ll scream at the top of my lungs, buddy! Explain yourself, right now!”

“Look again,” I push harder against the resistance, I’ll find a weakness somewhere. I’ll create uncertainty, that’s easily exploitable, “she’s not who you believe her to be.”

I see the persuasion taking effect. She warily looks me up and down before giving Ash a second look. The seeds of doubt have been planted.

“But What? No, you’re Ashlen, right? Ash talk to me.”

Ash stares at me from the side looking torn. I shake my head in a small stern motion. I plead inside my mind as I stare back. ‘For her sake, do not reveal yourself.’

I’m going to persuade this girl no matter what but I’d prefer not to scramble the poor girl’s brains with two conflicting stories from the two of us.

She bites her lip to conceal an almost pained expression and nearly whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m not Ash.”

Good, I know it’s not easy but it’s for the best. It will be easier in the long run.

“No No. You look just like her! Did he brainwash you Or?” she turns back to me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Who *are* you?”

“I’m Jason and this is Jill. I’m sorry, we don’t know you. She must look a lot like your friend.”

The heavy arch of her brows smooth slightly, her face becomes softer as the persuasion trickles in. Got her, she’s finally convinced. Ash is obviously upset but tries to hide it, clenching her jaw.

“I” She releases Ashlen’s arm and her face falls, not into embarrassment but into depression, “I’m so sorry, you look like the spitting image of her. My friend has been missing for like two weeks.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry about your friend,” Ashlen sounds almost as downtrodden as the girl.

“Yeah, I must be going crazy,” she sighs and shakes her head, “This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen to someone you know, right? The cops are investigating her apartment, even her parents are there and they don’t even live around here Ugh, sorry, why am I even-”

“Wait, what!” Ashlen blurts in her face, startling the girl backwards.

“Uh-What?”

“Did you say her *parents*!”

“Uhhh Yeah. It’s a big thing, it’s on the news and everything. Lo-look! It’s playing live on that TV.”

She points to the grainy TV. That’s the Chinese place. Oh, Ashlen Why does she have to see this? What a disaster.

I catch Ash darting out the ramshackle sliding door, she nearly plows through it before it has a chance to open. Shit! She just lost it! Not good, not good.

“Sorry, she’s quite sensitive. I hope you find your friend,” I spit out quickly and immediately pursue Ashlen.