A Twisted Tryst

The sun was low in the sky, rich neon orange, like the craft mac-n-cheese monstrosity children adore. I watch it burn streaks into the sky turning clouds lavender. Dreary, my feet dragging, I make my way after a harrowing day to the one place that offers sanctuary for those like me; a place full of being, life’s blood surging through veins. I feel my heart pulse with joy and ecstasy descends as I step over the bounds of the park; open, secluded, canopied. But this instance the same does not apply for I have a niggling feeling at the back of my mind. Taking a deep breath, I discreetly scan my surroundings for anomalies, though anomalies were to be a norm here, and notice piercing blue eyes staring back at me. A thought at the back of my mind frustrates me as it refuses to breach and surface. Familiarity strikes my conscious as I recall the same eyes at lunch, the exhibit and at Goldman Sachs. Realization and adrenaline hit and I assess my situation. I duck low into an alcove with an overhanging cover from a cherry tree, ripe and in bloom, hoping against hope that those eyes bathed in my past don’t follow me here. I nestle into the crevice betwixt a decrepit structural wall and the shaft of the tree. Taking deep breaths to control my racing heart, I lay as still as ever. I hear a creak and a twig snaps, commonplace and yet it still makes my hackles rise. I would not have been surprised to hear a growl from my throat if I were even remotely canine.
With a sudden jerk I am hoisted into the air by a vice – like grip on my arm. Two stoic faces greet my mask of boredom, masking sheer unadulterated panic. “Well hello boys” I drawl fully aware that I’m baiting them, “what brings you to my neck of the woods, so…far from your territory.” I see irritation flash in their eyes, and something else, more sublime; was it fear or rage, I seem to be disremembering how those felt ever since… but I do not go there ever, especially not when I need to keep my wits; a mechanism I have perfected for over a long time. I relax, letting a cocky stance take over. “Now, is there a message for me or is this charming tete a tete a cordial tribulation? Do not tell me he misses me still.” Laughter saturating my voice until it’s a lilt. “That must be so pathetic, making his lackeys come after me to…. What was it last, pledge his undying love to me once he had adequately chastened me?” I seethe at the mere thought of his tenacity. I let them see inferno in my eyes and they visibly flinch. Satisfied, I strut forth, “Constance, and is it… yes, Ronan, I recall you from the last instance I was visiting Mikhel’s. I also recall someone” I say in a sultry voice, “being quite besotted with me. Have we come far from then.” Satisfied with how his face turns red, the rest of his anatomic reactions, I shall only assume. Knowing the irregular blood flow would impair both thought and body, I move on to Constance, swaying my hips for Ronan’s benefit. I come closer and closer, forcing his hand into action. As soon as he moves, I flash out, snapping his wrist, and in the process ripping his arm off. “Well, it did get the job done.” My eyes turn somewhat feral and my fangs descend. I drink deeply and snap his neck, abruptly halting his scream. Still shocked, Ronan is at a standstill, and I feel somewhat bad for him, if only he wasn’t Michel’s man “Thana”, he pleads. I gently tilt his head and drink deep until he is dry. I throw him from me and stand up to assess. Calling a clean-up crew, I speak into a phone “a reservation for two; the usual works.” Throwing the phone next to them along with two engraved chips, I walk away, planning and orchestrating my next appointment. The sun sets, plunging the world into darkness.

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