Thursday, May 15, 2014

Drabbles #9-11

You see him, just a few footsteps away, and instead of that familiar tug in your gut or that skipping heartbeat you usually feel when you see his face, you feel nothing. Nothing but calm, complete indifference. And then it dawns on you. He has cruelly forced your feelings out of your chest and when you offered your heart and soul to him, he threw everything back at you. And now? Do you have any feelings at all? You wonder-- is this just a lack of love, or is this the lack of any emotion? You decide to turn away.

My teeth tore into the human's throat, blood immediately gushing into my mouth. The thirst was too much to handle. He had been nice, while he lasted. I didn't make eye contact, because I knew too well of the glazed-over eyes and the expression of horror that I would see. I just concentrated on the blood. It rushed through my body and replenished my soul, if you will. I felt rejuvenated. The coppery tinge in my mouth was all I'd been wanting for the past three days. Tearing away, I let the body fall to the floor with a thump.

The gunshot rang through the air and only too late did I notice that Luke had been thrown to the ground, clutching his stomach, his hand covered in his own blood.
"Luke!" I screamed, rushing up to him.
"Go! Run! Leave me. There's no time!"
"I'm not going to do that," I shrieked. 
His piercing blue eyes looked at me. "You have to. This is a risk that you have to take. I'll be fine."
"You're shot!"
"This is just a superficial wound. Could be worse. It didn't hit anything vital. You have to go. Hurry. They're waiting for you."

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