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1

“This is why… I work alone.”
He looked around. Nobody was following him. He continued towards the graveyard, rain spitting all around him. A bouquet of a dozen red roses sat in his hand, a gun in the other, he held his finger on the trigger, ready to kill anybody that he claimed as his enemy.
The tombstone wasn’t large, it wasn’t far away from those like it, it wasn’t special, it didn’t stand out. It looked like all the others, gray, plain, ordinary and of no importance to anybody but to those who knew the victim, and hardly anybody knew him at all.
“You work alone, huh?” he spoke to the stone clearly, no emotion in his voice, he was calm, his face was solemn, but those like him could see the anger corrupting his soul. “Then why did you accept me…?” he blinked, then opened his fingers, dropping the flowers at the face of the grave. “Now its my turn, to show you my power,” he lifted his hand and stared at his weapon, examining every detail on its barrel and handle. Flowers, roses.
He had always hated the smell of sweet things, he couldn’t stand them, they made him nauseous, he felt sick to his stomach every time he was able to catch the scent of cakes and pies and cookies as a child. But his friend had always smelt of flora, red roses.
Cocking his gun, he took one last look at the grave and then turned his back, stalking off in the direction of the city. He entered, the streets empty and abandoned. They were cold and lonely, and it seemed as if nobody had been there for centuries. The buildings were gray, deprived of all color and crumbling at a single glance. The roads were dirty, trash was everywhere and there were dead bodies that rotted, evidence that they’d been there for a while.
After wandering around for a while, he heard shrieking, a high pitched voice crying out as if being beaten, and he wandered around an alley, in between two buildings, one a bookstore and the other a movie shop.
He saw a young girl being brutally beaten by four men, on first instinct, he was to turn and leave, but when he saw the look in the girl's eyes, it reminded him of his friend, and he raised his gun to their heads. “Stop.”
An evil cackle broke out from behind him, and he listened as the man stepped towards him. “We’re doing this kind of thing to her, and that’s all you have to say?”
The men beating the girl looked up, pausing their actions and all grinned, the child whimpering and slouching.
“Cain Albotros. Its been a while,” the man walked around to beside him and smiled even more. “How old do you think she is?”
He didn’t answer, but continued to stare straight in front of him. He was staring at the girl.
The man leaned in by his ear. “Fourteen.”
Cain showed an opening, the man immediately pulled out a gun and aimed it at his temple, but he focused on the girl, he had to save her, something told him, it pushed him to save that little girl. He grasped his gun and shot one of the men, they all scattered, himself jumping backwards to stay clear of injury. He never really cared about getting hurt, but he attempted to keep himself clean. Just for the girl.
As he placed his foot on the wall of a building, he pushed off of it, and shot another man, then getting in front of the girl and fleeing the alley with her in his arms. She stared at his necklace, shocked and then tried to get closer to him, feeling how gentle he was for someone of his manner. He looked up to one of the empty buildings he was running towards and when he heard the hard thumping of footsteps behind him, the men following him and shooting their weapons, he leaped onto a garbage bin, quickly stuffing his gun into his sheath and then grabbed onto one of the window ledges. It was diminutive and slippery because of rain, but he held onto it, refusing to let go.
He saw a bullet hit the brick building right beside his ear and looked upwards. He pulled himself onto the ledge and then soared off of it, flying towards the top of the apartment.
“Dammit!” the man screamed and he took his men and disappeared behind a candy shop.
Cain watched them, sighing, he brought the girl down one set of stairs and kicked in the door to a room. It was clean, everything inside of it looked exclusive and obnoxiously ‘in your face’, but he put the girl down on the couch and went straight towards the bedrooms to see if there were any clothes her size.
The girl stood up on weak legs and collapsed, a hand grasped her shoulder and she gasped smacking it away.
Cain slowly got up, straightening his bent posture. He stared at her for a moment, gazing into her eyes, reading her expression and clearly wanting to ask her questions that he didn't think she would answer, and then handed her some clothes and a towel. “When your able to, have a shower so I can see and treat your wounds,” he pointed to the washroom.
She looked down to the bundle of clothes in her hands and nodded, then carefully stood back up and felt Cain move around her to get to the kitchen. She proceeded to the bathroom and started running the water. When she got underneath the hot shower, she groaned as it stung inside her wounds and pulsated against her bruises. Wincing, she continuing with washing her hair and cleaning her body, washing away the dirt that coated her skin from being beaten. She watched as the filth in her matted hair changed the water’s color as it ran down her back and along the tub, and when she couldn’t see anymore blackish water draining, she turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing the towel that softly wrapped around her small, thin figure. She sheepishly stepped out of the restroom and made her way to the kitchen, where potatoes, chicken and vegetables were being cooked. She felt herself begin to drool but then sensed Cain move, watching from the corner of his eye. He uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the window, his gun shining off of the sunlight that had appeared from hiding behind heavy rain clouds.
“Sit down,” he pulled out a chair for her and she nodded, sitting in the oak seat, it was supple against her injured skin, but so were Cain’s hands, and she didn’t know which one felt better. His fingers touched all of her bruises and open wounds, healing them, they glowed for a moment and then disappeared, the spots they’d been in still slightly tender to even look at.
“Thanks,” her voice was rough, she cleared her throat and repeated herself.
Cain stared at her for a moment and then rose, he turned his back and took a step.
“Why did you… help me?” she asked.
He stopped. “You remind me of someone,” he began to walk off. “Someone I lost.”
She watched him in the direction he wandered away in, then got off the chair and ran to the bathroom to put the clothes he’d gotten for her on. She brushed her hair and teeth with items that looked like they'd never been touched and took a surprisingly deep breath for her tiny lung capacity. She could smell something, something that made her immediately exit the room and dash for the kitchen. A heap of food, the same food that had been cooking on the stove only moments before sat on the table, steaming and ready to eat. She looked around, maybe it was for him.
“Eat,” Cain appeared behind her and she flinched and turned to him. “It's for you.”
“Aren’t you going to eat something?”
“No. I don’t eat that type of stuff.”
“Then what do you eat?”
He didn’t answer and she sat down at the table and shoved as much food as she could into her mouth at one time. She wanted to rid herself of the flavor of dirt, a dirty flavor that still settled on her tongue even after brushing her teeth.
Cain glanced at her every few moments while standing at the window and eventually, he removed his gun from its hold and checked his supply of ammunition. He wouldn’t be able to get more for a few days, so he’d have to act sparingly on the remaining clips that he had left.
“What happened to him?”
Cain looked at the girl. “My partner?”
She nodded.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell her, but something about her made him speak. “He was killed.”
“How?”
“A V-Hunter. They kill all levels of Vampire’s, and anybody who gets in they’re way.”
She looked down. “He was… a Vampire?”
“No. He was much stronger than a Vampire.”
“Much stronger?”
“He was an Aterroll. A Vampire who drinks the blood of Vampire’s, and is typically the most dangerous Vampire in the world.”
The girl was silent, she stared at her empty plate and then sat back. “You’re an Aterroll too, right?”
Cain glanced in her direction.
“But why do you wear a cross? Aren’t Vampire’s afraid of crosses?”
“No. But its inverted,” he brought out the necklace and showed her his earring. “Meaning that I’ve committed sin against the heavenly father’s word. I’ve killed many people in the past.”
“Were you born a Aterroll?”
Cain shook his head. “No. My partner... he saved me from dieing by sacrificing himself. I was born a Vampire. If we get the chance to drink from an Aterroll, we transform,” he thought for a moment. He’d been saying no a lot.
The girl stood and placed her plate in the sink, rinsing it off.
“How did you know?”
“I’ve met Vampire’s and Aterroll’s before. The moment I laid eyes on you I could tell.”
“Then you know that I could kill you whenever I want to, right?”
She nodded and smiled sweetly. “But something tells me that you won’t.”
He stared at her and then looked away, back out the window. The rain's stopped. He thought.