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An Deacra Fall Iad


Glass shards crumbled to shiny dust under Mitchell’s boot tread.  Those he hadn’t kicked out of the way crunched menacingly as he approached Jason.  The drunkard instinctually backed away.  Jason’s first worry was over the wad of cash in his pocket.  He kept his front facing the dark man in an effort to shield his bulging back pocket.  He knew he was in a bad spot, but he was a scrapper and had been his whole life.  He thought he was evenly matched with the man.  There were near the same height, and if anything Jason was the bulkier of the two.  

Compounding a series of bad decisions he had made during the night, the drunk decided to reach down for a shard of glass.  He bobbled down, grasping the first cold piece of glass he could find by feel alone.  It cut into his palm, but he didn’t notice immediately, shielded by the numbing effect of being drunk.

“Thanks, mate,” he grumbled as he lifted it up.  He threw his arm back, intending to use the large glass shard as a weapon.  Blood leaked down his wrist and forearm.  Jason winced as his open wound mixed with the spilled alcohol from earlier.  The unexpected stinging sensation caused him to miss delivering any blows with his makeshift weapon.

Jason stumbled back, the darkness of the alley engulfing him.  One of his feet trampled on the tail of the stray cat in the alley causing it to screech and hiss, clawing at his leg to get him off of its tail.  The drunk began to flail.  “Get off! Get off me!” he yelled at the cat and kicked it toward the looming presence that had blocked his exit from the alley.

The smell of blood hit the vampire instantly. Drowning out the stink of alcohol like it had before, and replacing the smell of dried blood with something much more appetizing.

Mitchell took a step forward, not at all phased by the makeshift weapon held up to him, and stopped. It was hard for anyone, much less a vampire, to find someone intimidating when they were so drunk they were unsteady on their feet. Mitchell couldn’t do much more than watch with amusement as the drunk winced and stumbled back. Straight onto the tail of a cat.

If there was anything that had managed to elicit more of a reaction from Mitchell, beyond the brief amusement and disgust, it was the screech of that cat. His smile had already fallen, and he quickly took a step back as the stray was kicked towards him. The poor thing flew through the air and landed at his feet. Maybe if he was human, things would have turned out differently, but as Mitchell looked back at the stranger, the cat just hissed and ran away. Back towards the vampire’s prey and the darkness of the alley.

He supposed he could have lunged forward then; while the man was likely distracted by the cat. There wasn’t really anything the drunk could do to hold him back, but then everything would have been over that bit quicker. It had been too long since Mitchell’s last kill and he intended to enjoy this one. To keep his act going for as long as possible. Especially with the jealousy he suddenly felt for the humans; that he’d steadfastly tried to ignore. Telling himself it had absolutely nothing to do with Anna protecting them instead of being with him.

“You want to get that seen to,” beginning to move forward, slowly, Mitchell nodded down towards the man. Without making it clear whether he meant the glass cut on his hand or the cat scratches on his leg. He smiled, “Do you have money for a taxi?”