Page 33 of Our Little Monster
I kicked the stand up quickly and started to roll while pushing the gas; it took everything in me to take off. I leaned all the way down, my chest practically flush with my gas tank as I made it onto the main road.
Their home wasn’t far from here, or at least that’s what I told myself as the minutes ticked by.
Eternity.
Eternity.
Eternity.
The infection made time seem to slow. I felt like it was taking me forever to accomplish anything. When I finally saw their long driveway, I turned down it and kicked up the gas a little out of sheer willpower to get to them.
I stopped my motorcycle, and it tipped over as I was climbing off, which caused me to stumble to the ground. I crawled up the few steps on their porch before I got to my knees to try and reach for the door. It opened before I could get to it.
My breathing labored, covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and probably unwanted tears Bastian stared down at me with an animalistic cock to his head. The predator slightly showing himself through his skin.
“Help… me…” My words were drawn out, and darkness made my vision tunnel.
“Do you accept our deal?” he asked, coolly placing his hands in his trouser pockets as he leaned against the door frame looking down at me.
I didn’t have time to think about it anymore. I would die if they wouldn’t help me.
“I’ll work… with you… now… help… me,” I demanded, feeling darkness take over more and more of my sight.
He looked me over before a lopsided grin curved his lips.
“You lasted longer than I thought you would.”
“Fuck you,” I gurgled out the words laced with venom before I lost consciousness. I swear I heard him chuckle in my dreams.
10
Thorne
Flashback…
Iwasjustaboutto crack some eggs into the frying pan when I heard the familiar clink of glass on wood. Turning around, my gaze landed on Nox, who stood nonchalantly by the counter. The morning light streaming in through the window highlighted the intricate swirls of black ink tattoos that adorned his chest and arms. You wouldn’t know how many shirts this man owned based on how often he walked around without one.
He groaned, stretching his sleepy muscles high above his dark tousled bedhead. I quirked an eyebrow as Nox poured the bourbon with a carelessness that seemed to mock the early hour. His daylight ring tapped the glass bottle to the beat of a song.
“Isn’t it a little early to start drinking?” I chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter with my arms crossed, watching him.
“Never too early,” Nox retorted, the corner of his mouth lifting into that familiar half-smile.
The creak of the door announced Bastian’s entrance before he strolled into view. Put together as always in a silk button-up and slacks, he looked every bit the composed man he always was, even at this early hour.
“Victor wants to meet with us today,” Bastian said, his voice carrying a note of respect for the man who had turned him so many years ago.
Victor was more than just Bastian’s sire; he was a good man, a friend we had encountered from time to time over the long stretch of our lives. It had been a few months since we last saw him. We could use a visit.
“Let’s not keep the man waiting,” Nox said, voice as smooth as the liquor he was sipping on. "We can bring the good bourbon with us." he added, lifting the bottle with a lopsided smirk.
“Victor does appreciate the finer things,” I mused, pulling on my worn leather jacket.
“Well, let’s eat first, and then we can head over there. I’m starving. I stopped by the bank on the way home,” Bastian said as he set the little paper brown bag on the counter. He pulled out the vibrant pouches filled with our equivalent to a meal and tossed them our way.
He grabbed his own bag and sunk his fangs into it with the ease of someone popping open a soda can. I looked from the stove to the crimson pouch in my hand.
“Yeah, that does sound like a better breakfast today,” I admitted, setting aside the skillet. We hadn’t gone on a hunt in two days, and I was definitely feeling it. I was sure we all were.
