Dorian's Destiny: Altered (12 page)

In one fluid movement Thomas snapped the
behemoth's neck and chucked his limp body over to Dorian. “You
better hurry. You wouldn't want your dinner to get cold.”

Dorian heeded his suggestion. Precious
seconds could make a significant difference in the temperature of
blood, and with a vampire's sensitive palate, those seconds meant
enjoying a delicious meal or enduring a disappointing one. Without
the moral qualm of ending a life, he drained Tiny dry. He had never
felt so satisfied.

Gripping Ashley with one hand, Thomas cupped
his other over her mouth before the scream in her eyes escaped from
her mouth. “Please don't scream,” He pleaded, replacing his hand
with only a finger when she nodded.

“You...you...killed my brother.” she
sobbed.

With a sigh, Thomas brought a hand to his
chest. “Tiny was your brother? Sorry, my dear. I overreacted. I
didn't intend on killing him, at least not so hastily. It was his
monologue. It's such a pet peeve of mine.” Thomas explained, his
voice dripping with fake sympathy.

Ashley tried to wiggle free from grip. After
failing, she started to cry. Searching for help, she looked to the
corner where Dorian had stood.

Noticing the shift in her gaze, Thomas
snapped his fingers to draw back his prey's attention. “Dorian
won't be any help to you, nor is he a threat. I'm the only one you
need to worry about.”

“Where did he go? He seemed pretty decent.
Maybe he went for help after you murdered my brother,” she replied,
desperate for her words to be true.

“I wouldn't get your hopes up. Dorian hasn't
gone for help. I would tell you where he is, but I don't believe
you would want to know what he's doing.”

“What?” She asked, shaking and crying.

“Well, I'll tell you since you're just so
nosy.” Thomas tapped the end of her nose. “He's still in his
precious corner, leaning over your brother's dead body, that's why
you can't see him, happily relieving him of all the scrumptious
blood he no longer needs. Now, before you go shaking your head in
disbelief, my friend is a vampire, and so am I.” Thomas laughed,
flashing his fangs and red eyes.

“Welcome back. Did you have a good nap?”
Thomas smiled down at his victim.

After fainting, Ashley had
been carelessly placed in the chair formerly occupied by her
tormenter, who sat on her dead brother's stool. Dorian again stood
in the corner, arms folded against his chest, wearing the last of
her brother’s blood smeared across his face.

“Let's have some fun, shall we?” Thomas'
smile widened to showcase his fangs.

Glancing back to ensure his audience of one
was ready for the show, he proceeded to toy with his food. “Now,
maybe if you play along, you will come out of this ordeal in one
piece. If you don't, well...”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she
managed to push out a meager, “Okay.”

Admiring her extremely decorated body,
Thomas admitted, “I like all your body modifications, especially
the piercings. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of the ability
of humans to alter their bodies. Being a vampire, such alterations
are impossible.”

Choking back a new surge of tears, she asked
apprehensively, “What are you going to do to me?”

“I haven't decided yet. I'm making this up
as I go along,” Thomas shrugged. “How many of these wonderful
piercings do you have?” He fondled one in her lower lip.

“I'm not sure,” she answered, shaking her
head.

“I guess we can find out together.” Looping
his pinky through the ring he had been fondling, he yanked it free
from her plump bottom lip, splitting it in two. Before she could
scream, he brought his mouth down hard to hers in a passionate and
bloody kiss, savoring the fear laced substance. During their
intimate exchange, he discovered a tongue ring he hadn't noticed
before. “Number two,” he chimed, pulling the metal rod from his
mouth after releasing her from his brutal kiss.

Leaning down, he whispered
seductively in her ear, her blood dripping from his lips. “Sorry,
my dear, but I lied about you surviving this ordeal in one piece.
In fact, you are about to endure a slow and agonizing death. But
fear not, your death won't be for naught. It will help sustain a
much more significant being.” Rising to stare into her terror
filled eyes, he gently wiped away fresh tears. “Now, it isn't
necessary that you die to provide what I need – that part of the
process is simply for fun,” Thomas added callously. “Shall we
continue? I gather, this could take a while, given all the
piercings visible, and all the hidden ones I’m sure you possess,”
he joked, unzipping her leather vest as she trembled beneath
him.

*****

Dorian stood in the corner, observing the
torture Thomas inflicted on his latest victim. This had been his
position countless times. He never engaged in the torture, but he
no longer turned away, finally desensitized from the mutilations.
However, when Thomas began to undress Ashley, he made his exit,
desiring his first glimpse of the nude female form to be less
altered.

Back inside the lobby, he gazed out the shop
window. The blood-soaked face of a monster reflected back at him.
“You're what I truly am, aren't you?” he asked the creature staring
back at him. “And I suppose, Thomas is what I'm destined to
become.” He shook his head in disagreement, when deep down he knew
his words couldn't be truer.

He sighed in relief when the choking screams
from the other room finally ceased. Turning from his gruesome
reflection, he watched Thomas' blood splattered body traipse toward
him. Stopping a few feet away, he released the contents of his
cupped hands. The sound of metal hitting the concrete floor stung
Dorian's ears.

“35 piercings!” Thomas announced after the
clanging stopped. Following Dorian's eyes, he inspected his
bloodied body. “What can I say? I got a little carried away,” he
laughed before disappearing briefly, returning with several towels.
“You didn't stay for the finale. Still squeamish?” he questioned,
wiping away Ashley's blood.

“No. To be honest, I was bored,” Dorian
answered bluntly, turning back to stare at the other monster.

“Ha!” Thomas boomed, grabbing Dorian's
attention. “You are such a horrible liar.”

Forcing a weak smile, he admitted,
“Unfortunately, you're right, but if I tell the truth, it will just
give you more ammunition in your tease Dorian stockpile.”

“Ow, that hurt.” Thomas grabbed his chest
like he had been shot. “I do enjoy teasing you, but I promise, if
you tell me, I will refrain from using the knowledge to tease you
now or to increase my so-called stockpile.” With his hand still
against his chest, he made a cross over his heart. “Cross my
heart,” he added sweetly. Having rid himself of his own victim's
blood, he reached up to remove the leftovers of Tiny from Dorian's
face.

“Leave it.” Dorian barked, pushing away
Thomas' hand, not wanting to be without the reminder of what he
was.

“Okay?” Thomas responded curiously.

Distracting him, Dorian reluctantly revealed
his reason for abandoning the 'finale'. “Here's the truth, and try
not to laugh. I left before your finale because I didn't want my
first image of a naked woman to be like her.”

“You've never seen a naked woman?” Thomas
asked, jaw dropping.

“That's just what I said, isn't it?” Dorian
replied, regretting his decision to be truthful.

Closing his mouth, Thomas paced in front of
his friend. “Yes, sorry. Just taken back a bit. I understand, given
your circumstances before evolving. I guess I assumed you would
have taken a peak since then.”

Dorian shook his head.

“Well, we will definitely have to remedy
that situation. I take it that your preferences lean more toward
natural beauty?” Thomas inquired. Dorian didn't respond, letting
him ramble and plan their next night out the entire ride home.

The hands of Megan's watch ticked by,
counting the minutes she sat there alone. Painful evidence she
wasn't worthy of Dorian's time. A lingering tear finally fell,
streaking her freshly made face. Wiping her cheek, she rose from
their bench. That's how she referred to it from the moment their
bodies occupied opposite ends of the wrought iron structure.

Why am I acting like a love struck school
girl? How could I be so stupid? After one evening, musing that he
might be the one.

She chastised herself for believing she had
found the man who could create with her the astonishing love her
parents shared. A love that spanned from the moment their eyes met
to their final breaths. She knew that kind of love existed; her
parents were proof. She saw it every day growing up. So she didn't
waste her time dating random guys she knew weren’t the one. With
Dorian though, she felt it, deep in her chest. He obviously didn't
feel the same.

How could I be so naive?

Glancing around one last time, she hoped to
see him running toward her, calling out an apology for being late.
Unfortunately, the park was empty and silent. Accepting the harsh
reality, she trudged away, abandoning the park and any hope of true
love.

*****

Blood gushed from Dorian's lower lip as he
bit down hard, desperate to keep himself stationary. His body
yearned to sprint to Megan's side to beg and plead for forgiveness
for his tardiness. However, his mind was more rational.

“There's no point in continuing this
charade,” he whispered. “I shouldn't befriend her or worse fall in
love with her. I could so easily. I've already gotten too close,
entertaining the notion that she could be more than a meal. Another
mistake to add to my collection. Mistakes seems to be the only
thing I'm good at. In fact, my whole life has been one big mistake,
my mother knew that 21 years ago. Why has it taken me so long to
realize this truth?

Watching her walk away crying, broke his
heart. That was a small price to pay for his monumental mistake. He
remained in the shadows until she left the park, then followed
after her, intent on protecting her from both Thomas and
himself.

*****

Megan stared at the chart, trying to turn
the strings of letters into words. However, this simple task proved
impossible. Her stinging eyes couldn't focus, still sore from hours
of weeping. Thankfully the redness had faded, which wouldn’t have
been easily hidden.

“Honey, what's wrong?
You've been reading the same chart for ten minutes,” asked the
caring voice as a loving arm wrapped around her
shoulder.

“Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired,” she
responded, appreciating the tender embrace.

Releasing her after a squeeze, Josie called
her out. “I might buy that, if it wasn't the beginning of your
shift. Now, when our shift ends, I would appreciate an explanation
for such a drastic switch in your mood from last week.”

For the remaining seven hours, Megan
concentrated more on what she would say to her best friend, than
the tasks at hand. She debated with herself on whether to tell the
truth or concoct a lie. Ultimately, the truth won out, in a
completely one-sided battle. Lying was not one of her strong suits,
especially not to Josie. When the clock finally hit midnight, she
was grateful it had been a slow night with no real emergencies.

Sitting inside the small coffee shop only
two blocks from St. Mary's, Megan glared at the cup in front of
her. She feared if she attempted to grasp it, it would shatter into
pieces on the floor after slipping from her sweat-covered
palms.

Seeing the worry plainly on her face, Josie
placed her hand on top of her friend's. “Please tell me what's
wrong?”

Pulling her gaze away from the cup and up to
Josie, she saw the same concern in those hazel eyes that melted her
heart a year ago. “Josie,” she whispered before burying her face in
her hands. Tears poured from her eyes when she thought there
shouldn’t be any left.

Leaving her seat directly across from her
friend, Josie hopped into one right beside her, sympathetically
clutching her with comforting arms. “Megan, look at me,” pausing
she waited for her distraught friend to comply, “tell me his
name.”

“What?” Megan blurted.

“Tell me his name so I can find him and beat
the snot out of him,” Josie repeated.

Shocked that she knew exactly what was
wrong, immediately stopped Megan's her tears and induced
uncontrollable laughter. “What makes you think I'm crying because
of a man?” She asked in between giggles as she wiped her
cheeks.

Gently rubbing Megan's arm, Josie explained
her deduction, “Honey, when a woman cries like you've been crying,
it's always over man. Not only that, but I can easily connect the
dots. Last week you seemed to be on cloud nine; this week you're
down in the dumps. Now, tell me his name,” she demanded a third
time.

“I hate to admit it, but you're right. All
these tears are because of a man, who will remain nameless.” Megan
reluctantly admitted the accuracy of her friend’s uncanny
assessment, though she withheld Dorian's name, rattled slightly by
Josie's severe tone. “Don't look at me like that. I don't want my
best friend going to jail over something so silly. I simply
convinced myself that the impossible was possible, that's all.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Josie smiled
reassuringly, “but would you mind explaining exactly what you
mean?”

“Do I have to?” Megan asked feebly.

“Yes,” Josie stated firmly.

“Fine, but only because I love you,” Megan
relented with a weak smile. “Oh, and you can let go now. I promise
not to fall apart again.”

“Sure.” Josie gently released her friend and
returned to her previous seat.

With shaking hands Megan
took a slow sip of the now cold coffee before diving into her soap
opera. “I guess I'll just start from the beginning. About a month
ago, on the night we were so crazy at work and you insisted I
leave, I... wait a minute, this is all your fault.” She announced,
smiling at her confused friend. “Yeah, if you hadn't shooed me
away, this whole silly ordeal might not have happened.”