The Hunted

Carrie Sebring had just turned twenty one, and was spending her rather uneventful night sipping her newly purchased beer at the local Grangie’s Pub on the corner of the downtown square. The monkey invasion, which she refused to even consider at this point, for the downtown had been reclaimed as monkey free earlier that night, had taken up much of her friends’ attention. Nevertheless, they had rejoined and convened at the pub for her impromptu birthday party.

“Hey Jacob, it’s this young lady’s birthday!” One of her more raucous friends, John, called out to the bartender. He saluted them with the beer mug he was finally filling for a customer hanging in the corner, and then proceeded to smile and walk over.

“Happy birthday.” He said just above the din of the bar.

“Thanks dude!” Carrie said enthusiastically.

“You know what that means!” John yelled to the bartender, who smiled knowingly.

“Yup, I know the drill. Alright, miss, it’s time for you to crawl over the edge of the bar.” Jacob motioned to Carrie and cleared off the bar’s area with a clean cloth.

“What? Why?” Carrie said, utterly confused.

Jacob smiled and pointed at the sign hanging above the tap along the back wall. Metal plated, the wooden carved sign read, “Any who celebrate birthdays here must receive strikes equal to that of their new age, plus one.”

“Oh. Um, thanks. But no thanks.”

“You don’t really have a choice, dear friend.” John said into her ear as he unceremoniously hauled her up and over the bar. Jacob held on to her slightly struggling, albeit frail body and flailing arms.

Several hours and quite a few drinks later, Carrie removed herself from the bar, accompanied by a very nice, and very sexy man who had been outside the bathroom, offering his hand for comfort when she emerged, just finishing a round of puking. He had been hitting on her earlier in the night, when most of her friends had taken off. They had a common friend – the same John who had so ungraciously beaten her earlier in the night. John had left his friend in the caring hands of George, knowing that he would get her home safe. He had for every other girl that John had ever seen him with.

“So you live around here?”

“Yeah, I work at Green Tech. Like every other damn person around here.”

“Well, that’s cool, at least.”

“What do you do?” He asked her as he held her arm tighter, lifting her slightly when she lost her balance along the crooked sidewalk.

“Actually, I’m just home for my birthday weekend. I’m finishing up my last three semesters at Hardon State.”

“Where’s that?”

“About three hours away.” She admitted, giggling and stumbling a little as she made her way through the doorway and into the night.

“Hey, you feel okay, sweetie?”

“Eww. Why are you calling me sweetie?” Carrie looked up, almost sober, yet still so very trashed.

“Just a term of endearment. If you don’t like it, I won’t use it again. I wouldn’t want to offend you.”

“No, its fine.” Carrie mumbled.

“Well in that case, would you like me to walk you home, drive you home, or get a taxi? Maybe call someone you know a little better than me? I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.”

“Um…I’d really like to walk this off. Mom and dad knew I was going to get drunk, but I’m a little gone to be walking by myself, and too woozy to trust myself in someone’s car.”

“Alright, that’s cool. Whatever you want to do – I’m game.”

“I didn’t see you drink anything all night. Do you drink?”

“I like drinks of the non-alcoholic flavor. It just loses its flavor when you get older.”

“You can’t be that much older than me.” Carrie slurred. “You don’t look a day over twenty.”

“I’m twenty four.” George admitted. “But don’t tell anyone – I graduated a little bit early from college and came right here.”

“Oh, you’re one of those smart ones!” Carrie exclaimed, as if a light was coming on in her head.

“Nah. Not really. I just got lucky.”

“Well, I don’t want anything to do with Green Tech. Ever. I’m a psychology major, and I don’t want anything to do with this company or this town.”

“I take it Green Tech has swallowed your parents?”

“Yeah. Definitely. They work ten or twelve hour days, and I was never as smart as they wanted me to be. I get decent grades in college, but I always feel like I’m not good enough.” Surprisingly, Carrie’s voice cracked, and George felt almost a stab of guilt at what he was about to do to this young, sweet, innocent girl.

She was expected home, so he couldn’t take too much – but she was drunk, which meant she wouldn’t remember, and she would only notice a slight hickey on her neck. He hadn’t gone to surgical procedure, but he had straightened and sharpened his teeth by himself – something that he was very, very proud of. In fact, he put his talents to the best possible use whenever possible. And digging into that sweet, fresh pounding vein at her neck was going to give him such a rush – he couldn’t wait.

“That sucks.” George agreed with Carrie, easily sliding his arm around her. “I would definitely trade my childhood for yours if it would make your life any better. Mine was pretty normal.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, George!” Carrie cooed at him, much like a mother would at her child. “I wish I could have someone like you in my life all the time. All of the guys at school are dicks.”

“Well, why don’t you transfer elsewhere?”

“My school has the best psychology program. Period. My parents wouldn’t accept me going anywhere else.”

“Well, college is about you, right?” George asked, slowing her stumble and his walk to a minimum. “You should do what you want – not what they force you to do.”

“I guess. It’s getting them to see it that way that is a little…difficult. If you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I understand. My parents weren’t the same, but I know a lot of people who were or are in the same situation as you find yourself right now.” George explained, casually throwing his arm around her. The drunken girl eased into his grip, despite her objections to his speech patterns.

“Wow, you’re starting to talk all science-y.” She grumbled.

“What?” He acted surprised, cursing himself internally for the slip into a higher language form. She couldn’t handle it.

“You took like, fifty thousand words for a sentence.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He announced. “It’s late at night, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re walking me home!” She announced, giggling. She almost fell, and he threw his body in front of her to catch her.

“Exactly. What made me so damn lucky that I get to treasure your company for another five or ten minutes while I escort you home to your family? Me of all people, who am a lonely, estranged bachelor working at minimum wage for a huge company…”

“Minimum wage at Green Tech is double the minimum wage for everywhere else. Every person in town knows that.” She chided him. “But why are you single?”

“I’ve just never found the one.” George admitted, falling into his shy and bashful routine. He could see that this particular act was the one that she would fall most willingly for. Cute, courageous, but lonely and innocent. She, the great and knowledgeable college student would save this genius from himself…it could make a great book!

“I’m sure you will! She or he could be anywhere!” She reassured him.

“Oh, I’m not gay.” George assured her, biting his lip. He could never tell what they wanted the response to be when they made that insinuation of male to male relationships. Some of the girls would fall head over heels at a little gay bashing, and others would be offended if you said anything more than, “That’s not really what I’m into…but I have a gay friend!”

“Well, that’s good.” She said. Allow the reader to realize that this was what she intended to say. Instead, it came out as more of a, “Thash gud” to George’s ears. But, being very good at translating drunken and slurred speech patterns, he was able to continue on his conquest.

“George?” She asked, stopping her stumble to look up at him. He leaned back away from her face to guard himself from the reek of alcohol, supporting her by holding her shoulders.

“Yes?”

“I dunfeel shulgud.” George translated, then stepped back just in time to avoid the puke and vomit spray aimed towards his legs and his shoes. Stepping behind her, he helped her to her knees, brushing her hair back. This was, although not ideal, perhaps the perfect time to feed. She wouldn’t notice while she was throwing up her stomach’s contents onto the otherwise clean sidewalks of Sedona.

“Noted.” He said, grinning as he slunk behind her, brushing her hair away from her neck. He could see the vein pumping in the dark, and it was calling to him. He needed it. She wouldn’t notice. “It’ll be okay.” He murmured, feeling his teeth begin to ache with anticipation. He had been waiting all night for an opportunity. He drew closer as she gagged some more, careful not to bump his head into her neck – she may actually notice that. Holding her head more firmly, whispering a few more carefully placed sympathetic murmurs, he finally sunk his teeth into the sweet, life pumping vein that was bulging on her neck.

Relief flowed inwards almost immediately as the taste of blood flooded his senses, the smell of blood deep in his nostrils and the feeling of power over the young woman intensified by the firm grip on her head. As promised, she had not even noticed, still gagging.

“I dunfeel shulgud…” She noted again between breaths as she knelt, gasping for breath on the sidewalk, with this stranger too close to her, yet too far away, and altogether involved in some sort of weird erotic experience that she didn’t quite understand, nor would she remember just minutes from this moment.

Having drunk his fill for the night, realizing that she was beginning to feel faint from both the excursions of the night and the blood he had removed, he reluctantly released his hold. A little blood droplet on each incisor mark was all that remained, and he rose immediately to quell suspicion.

“I know.” He assured her. “You’ve had a rough night. Home’s not much farther. Do you think you can make it?”

“Ugh.” She said, struggling to rise before falling pitifully before his feet again.

“I guess I’ll have to carry you, then.” He said, bending over. “Where do you live?”

Carrie mumbled an address at him and he nodded, remembering briefly where it was in the scheme of where they were now and where they had to go. Two blocks west, and another block south.

“Got it.” He assured her as he hoisted her up and over his shoulder. It would be a good work out, and he was in no mood to sleep now – he was ready to roam for more of those poor, drunken souls, to elude from them, their blood and plasma flow. “We’ll be there in no time.” George began his not-so-long walk towards her house.

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