Quarantine has been lifted. After several days of vomiting, boils, boredom and psychotic episodes it seemed as if whatever illness that was ailing our little undead five-some had cleared up. Minus my inescapable psychosis. Release was sought, and still denied. We were all "examined" by some Tremere lackey. By examined I mean peeked in on, given the thumbs up and then left to fester for another THREE DAYS. I somehow managed to keep my cool. Mostly. I may or may not have left a few obscene blood inscribed doodles on the wall. Try explaining those to the maid. Then emancipation began with the loud clanging of the vault door opening. In a flash, the Ventrue were up and voicing bawdry complaints.
Mongrel held back, assessing the situation. The situation being my paper thin self control and the few human servants between us and liberation. "Do NOT attempt to dine on the Sheriff's help."
I try to appear as appeasing as possible. "I'll behave." He retains a firm grip on my arm as we hightail it out of this damnable prison. I can't help but leave on my own terms so I chant my own jaunty little tune. "Free at last, free at last. Now Madelyn's gonna rip up some ass!" Mongrel snorts laughter next to me and we make our getaway.
We're halfway home when I start to get twitchy. The compulsion is practically burning a hole through my being. My eyes skitter back and forth, probing the area for a victim. Mongrel senses my voracity and stops walking. "Do you need to go? Now?" I nod distractingly, still surveying with the eyes of a hunter. He grabs my chin, forcing me eye to eye. "Be smart about it, clean up after yourself and most importantly try to keep your head on straight." I give him my assurance and he releases me. "Call if you need me." he says over his shoulder while retreating. I note his haste. I know there's apprehension. It's a lot like letting a rabid dog off his leash to massacre the neighborhood. A tiny, almost non-existent part of me wants to follow after him. Call off the hunt and behave myself. Spare Mongrel's indirect guilt and an innocent life or two. The smell of fresh blood stops that train of thought in it's tracks.
There's a small gathering of teenagers in a backyard a few house down. Creeping closer, I get a count. There's four of them. Two females, two males. All fairly inebriated. More than enough to sate my need. Catching a lucky break when one of the males stumbles around to the side of the house to relieve himself. I wait until he's finished, the last thing I want right now is a golden shower. I hear him zip his pants up and I pounce. Far too famished to make this first one last, I rip into his throat in a frenzy, my hunger crazed grip crushing his skull in the process. The top half of his body quickly becomes a slightly mushy mess. I drop it and run my bloodstained hands through my hair. Licking my lips I let out a quiet sigh of contentment. A bray of drunken laughter brings me to the task at hand. Where's my bag of toys when I need it. I spy a tire iron laying in the bed of one of the teens trucks. Hmm. Ok, I can work with this. I smile at the bludgeoning weapons heft in my hand as I slink into the shadows of the backyard. The remaining male and one of the females are canoodling in a hot tub next to the shed. The other female is on the screened in porch. This is splendid. Smiling and silently climb onto the porch, I approach her from behind, using the tire iron to throttle her into silence. Pulling her into the house so any unpleasant noises won't be heard, I throw her onto the kitchen floor. The tire iron smashes into her chest, sending shattered ribs into her lungs before she can draw breath to scream. Her blood pools onto the tile in a delicious way. Kneeling into the puddle, I feed from her dying body until the lacerated heart stops beating. I dispose of the tire iron for a freshly sharpened knife from the butchers block. Controlling my excitement I creep stealthily to the couple, who are in the throes of a passionate kiss in the frothing water. I ruin their beautiful moment when I thrust the knife into the back of the neck of the female. It slides through to jab the male with its dripping tip. I push her convulsing body to the side, leaping into the water with a splash. The male lets out a humorously feminine shriek and I'm forced to hold his head under the bubbling water until his struggling ceases. I pull him up, checking for the faint pulse before sinking my fangs into him. His blood jets out and I swallow as much as I can before releasing him into the reddening water. The hot tub gurgles away making hypnotic swirls of crimson. I'm captivated for an indiscernible amount of time before shaking myself alert. Time to clean up.
Dragging the bodies into the kitchen, I rig up a contraption with the gas range. I hurry out of the house, already a safe distance away when I hear the small blast of the stove as it obliterates the bodies I left in its vicinity. There. T's crossed and I's dotted. When I finally reach home, I come upon my only hang up of the night. My clothes are soaking wet with blood and water and I smell faintly of propane. I grin when the solution comes to mind. Stripping down to my bra and Cookie Monster adorned underwear, I shove my stained clothing into a trash bag and enter the house. The look on Mongrel's face is worth a thousand words as I flounce past him. As I prepare to use up all the hot water I hear his laughter echoing down the hallway. I grin and step under the spray, knowing I've avoided any possible hard feelings from my little spree.
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