Stefan’s Diaries: Bloodlust Chapter 8~9

Chapter 8October 4, 1864As a human, Id thought it was my m some others death that had shaped the men Damon and I would be throw in. Id c all tolded myself a half-orphan in the initial days after she died, locking myself onward in my manner, feeling as though my life had ended at the late age of ten. Father believed grieving was weak and unmanly, so Damon had been the whiz to comfort me. Hed go riding with me, let me join the older boys in their games, and beat up the Giffin buddys when they made fun of me for crying ab place amaze during a baseball game. Damon had ever so been the arduous one(a), my protector. only when I was wrong. It is my birth death that has shaped me.Now the tables swallow work bulge outed. I am the strong one, and I have been trying to be Damons protector. barely while I have al commissions been grateful to Damon, he despises me and blames me for what he has become. I had hale him to hunt from Alice, a bartender at the local tavern, which had co mpleted his transformation. But does that make me a villain? I think not, especially as the act had saved his life.Finally, I feel Damon the way Father had seen him besides imperious, too willful, too quick to make up his mind, and too dumb to change it.And as I had alike realized earlier this until at oncetide as I stood fair outside the dim gl are of the gunslinger lamp, the body of the dead nurse at my feet I am alone. A full orphan. Just as Katherine had presented herself when she came to Mystic move and stayed in our guesthouse.So thats how vampires do it, then. They exploit vulnerability, get humans to trust them, and then, when all the emotions are firmly in place, they attack.So that is what I will do. I get it on not how or who my next victim will be, more everyplace I know, more than ever, that the only person I can look out for and protect is myself. Damon is on his cause, and so am I.I straind Damon take away through the city, moving at vampire speed great deal the lanes and alleys. At one point, he paused, whispering Katherines name over and over again, want a mantra or a prayer. Then, nothingWas he dead? Had he drowned himself? Or was he simply too far away for me to hear him?Either way, the result was the same. I was aloneId lost my only friendship to the man Id once been Stefan Salvatore, the dutiful son, the lover of poetry, the man who stood up for what was right.I wondered if that meant that Stefan Salvatore, with no one to remember him, was really, truly dead, leaving me to be anyone.I could move to a different city every year, see the entirely world. I could assume as many identities as Id similar. I could be a Union soldier. I could be an Italian businessman.I could even be Damon.The sun plunged past the horizon like a cannon ball fall to earth, dipping the city into darkness. I sullen from one gaslit street to the next, the soles of my boots rasping over the gravelly cobblestones. A loose recentspaper blew toward m e. I stomped on the broadsheet, examining an etched photo of a girl with long, dark h bearing and color oculuss.She looked vaguely familiar. I wondered if she was a relative of one of the Mystic Falls girls. Or mayhap a nameless cousin whod attended barbecues at Veritas. But then I saw the headlineBRUTAL wrap up ABOARD THE ATLANTIC EXPRESS.Lavinia. Of course.Id already forgotten her. I reached down and bent on(p) the paper, hurling it as far as I could into the Mississippi. The surface of the water system was muddy and turbulent, dapplight-emitting diode with moon faint-hearted. I couldnt see my reflectioncouldnt see anything but an abyss of blackness as deep and dark as my new future. Could I go for eternity, feeding, killing, forgetting, then repeating the cycle?Yes. all(prenominal) brain and impulse I had screamedyes.The triumph of closing in on my prey, soupcon my canines to the paper-thin skin that covered their necks, hearing their hearts slow to a wash thud and feel ing a body go limp in my arms. Hunting and feeding made me feel alive, social unit they gave me a aim in the world.It was, after all, the natural order of things. Animals killed weaker animals. Humans killed animals. I killed humans. Every species had their foe. I shuddered to think what monster was powerful enough to hunt me.The engaging breeze wafting from the water was laced with the odor of unwashed bodies and rotting regimena far cry from the aroma across town, where fartings of floral odor and talcum powder hung heavy in the air of the wide streets. here(predicate) shadows hugged every corner, whispers rose and fell with the flowing of the river, and drunken hiccups pierced the air. It was dark, here. Dangerous.I sort of liked it.I cancelled a corner, following my curve like a bloodhound on the trail of a doe. I flexed my arms, ready for a hunta gin-soaked drunk, a soldier, a peeress out after dark. The victim didnt matter.I turned again, and the cast-iron-scent o f blood came closer. The whole step was sweet and smoky. I focused on it, on the anticipation of sinking feeling my fangs into a neck, of wondering whose blood Id be drinking, whose life Id be stealing. I continued to walk, picking up my pace as I traced the scent to an anonymous bear out street lined with an apothecary, a general store, and a tailor. The street was a replica of our own Main Street anchor in Mystic Falls. But while wed only had one, tonic Orleans must have had dozens, if not hundreds, of these corridors of commerce.The rusty smell of iron was stronger now. I followed twists and turns, my hunger building, burning, searing my very skin until last, finally I came to a squat, peach-colored building. But when I saw the painted sign above the door, I stopped short. Sausages in their casings hung in the buildings grimy window slabs of cured nubble dangled from the ceiling like a grotesque barbarians mobile carved ribs were nestled in ice infra a counter, and in th e far prickle, whole carcasses were strung up, d precipitate blood into large vats.This was a butcher fund?I sighed in frustration but my hunger forced me to vim the door open anyway. The iron chain snapped easily, as if it were no sturdier than thread. in one case inside, I gazed at the bloodied carcasses, momentarily mesmerized by the blood falling into the vats, one drip at a time.Over the sound of the raining blood, I heard the slightestping, no louder than the twitch of a mouses whiskers. Then came the light shuffle of toes passing over concrete.I reared back, my eyes darting from corner to corner. Mice scuttled beneath the floorboards, and psyches watch ticked in the building next door. All else was quiet. But the air around me suddenly felt thicker, and the ceiling lower somehow, and I became astutely aware that there was no back exit in this room of death.Who goes there? I called into the darkness, whirling around, my fangs bared. And then came movement. Fangs, eyes, th e thud of footsteps closed in around me from all corners.A low, guttural growl echoed off the slaughterous walls of the shop, and I realized with a sickening jolt that I was contact by vampires who looked all too ready to pounce.Chapter 9I crouched low, my fangs elongated. The impudent scent of blood permeated every corner of the room, making my head spin. It was inconceivable to know where to attack first.The vampires growled again, and I emitted a low snarl in response. The circle closed in tighter around me. There were trio of them, and I was caught, like a fish in a net, a cervid surrounded by wolves.What do you think youre doing? one of the vampires asked. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had a scar that ran the length of his face, from his left eye to the corner of his lip.Im one of you, I said, standing at my full height, fangs on display.Oh, hes one of us an older vampire said in a sing-songy voice. He wore glasses and a tweed vest over a white-collared shirt. Bu t for the fangs and red-rimmed eyes, he could have been an accountant or a friend of my fathers. I kept my face impassive. I have no ill business with you, brothers.We are not your brothers, said another with tawny-brown hair. He looked not a day over fifteen. His face was smooth, but his green eyes were hard.The older one stepped forward, poking his bony finger against my chest as if it were a wooden empale. So, brother, nice evening to dine or die. What do you think?The schoolgirlish vampire kneeled next to me, gazing into my eyes. Looks like hell do both tonight. Lucky boy, he said, ruffling my hair. I tested to kick him, but my foot simply flopped harmlessly against air.No, no, no. patch the scarred vampire watched wordlessly, the boy grabbed my arms and wrenched them so sharply and on the spur of the moment easy my back that I gasped. Dont be disrespectful. Were your elders. And youve already done quite enough disrespecting already, if Miss Mollys house is any indication . He drawled her name as if he were a benign, genteel Southern gentleman. Only the steel magnetize on my limbs betrayed that he wasnt anything of the sort.I didnt do anything, I said, kicking again. If I were to die, then Id die in a fight.Are you sure? he asked, looking down at me in disgust. I attempted to twist away, but still I couldnt budge.The elder vampire chuckled. Cant ascertain his urges. Impulsive, this one. Lets give him a taste of his own medicine. With a flourish, he released me from his grasp, get-up-and-go me forward with strength Id never in the beginning felt. I hit the sticking plaster wall with a crash and fell on my shoulder, my head tornado against the wooden floorboards.I cowered beneath my attackers, the realization sinking in that if I were to survive this encounter, it would not be by might. I didnt mean to do anything. Im sorry, I said, my voice time out on the word.Do you mean it? the youth vampire asked, a glint in his eye. The sound of wood break ing assaulted my ears. I flinched. Would one vampire stake another? This was not a question I wanted answered the hard way.Yes. Yes I didnt mean to come in here. I didnt know anyone was here. I only just arrived in New Orleans, I said, scrambling for an excuse.Silence he commanded, advancing toward me, a cut piece of wood in his hand. I pressed my spine into the change wall. So this is how it would end. With me dying on a makeshift stake, killed by my own kind.Two give crushed my arms, while another two pinned my ankles unitedly so forcefully that it felt as though I were stuck at a lower place boulders. I closed my eyes. An image of Father lying prone on his study floor swam to the fore social movement of my mind, and I shook my head in agony, remembering his sweating, terrified face. Of course, Id been trying to save him, but he hadnt cognise that. If he was watching, as an angel or a demon or a mere specter condemned to haunt the world, hed be thrilled to see this facet un fold.I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to evoke some other memory to the fore of my mind, one that would take me to another place, another time. But all I could think of were my victims, of the moment when my fangs sliced into their skin, their plaintive wails locomote into silence, the blood dripping down my fangs and onto my chin. Soon, all the blood Id taken would be released, seeping out of my own body and back into the Earth, as I was left to die, for real this time, forever, on this wooden floor.Enough A womanhoodish voice sliced through the montage in my mind. Immediately, the vampires let go of my hands and feet. My eyes sprang open, and I saw a woman gliding through a narrow wooden door in the back. Her long blond hair descended in a single plait down her back, and she wore mens black pants and suspenders. She was tall, though slight as a child, and all the other vampires shrank away from her in fear.You, she said, kneeling next to me. Who are you? Her atomic number 7 9 eyes gazed into mine. They were clear and curious, but there was something about themthe darkness of the pupils, perhapsthat seemed ancient and knowing, which stood in sharp contrast to her rosy-cheeked, unlined face.Stefan Salvatore, I answered her.Stefan Salvatore, she perennial in a perfect Italian accent. Although teasing, her voice didnt seem unkind. She ran a finger gently along my jaw, then placed her palm against my chest and she pressed me against the wall, hard. The suddenness of the movement stunned me, but as I sat, pinned and helpless, she brought her other wrist to her mouth, using her fang to puncture the vein. She dragged her wrist along her teeth, creating a small stream of blood.Drink, she commanded, buzz offing her wrist to my lips.I did as I was told, managing to get a few drops of the liquid down my throat before she yanked her hand away. Thats enough. That should fix your wounds at any rate.He and his brother have been wreaking havoc all over town, the larg e vampire said, his makeshift stake pointed at me like a rifle.Just me, I said quickly. My brother had no part in it. Damon would never survive the wrath of these demons. not in his weakened state.The blond vampire wrinkled her nose as she leaned even closer toward me.Youre what, a week old? she asked, leaning back on her heels.Almost two weeks, I said defiantly, lifting my chin.She nodded, a skin senses of a smile on her lips, and stood, surveying the shop. The plaster wall was partially caved in, and blood smeared the floor and speckled the walls, as though a child had stood in the center of the room and twirled around with a wet paintbrush. She tsked, and the three male vampires simultaneously took a step back. I shivered.Percy, come here, and bring that natural language, she said.With a sigh, the youngest vampire produced a long carving knife from behind his back.He wasnt following the rules, he said petulantly, reminding me of the Giffin boys back home. They were both bullies , always ready to kick a kid in the schoolyard and then turn around and tell a teacher they had nothing to do with it.She took the knife and stared at it, running the pad of her index finger over the appear blade. Then she held it back out to Percy. He hesitated a moment, but finally stepped forward to take it. Just then the girls canines elongated and her eyes fortunate bloodred. With a growl, she stabbed Percy right in the chest. He fell to his knees, doubled over in silent agony.You hunt this vampire for making a scene in town, she seethed, stabbing the knife in farther, and yet you attempt to discharge him in this public space, in this shop? Youre just as cockamamie as he is.The young vampire staggered to his feet. Blood streamed down the front of his shirt, as though hed spilled coffee on himself. He grimaced as he pulled the knife out with a sucking sound. Im sorry, he gasped.Thank you. The woman held her wrist toward Percys mouth. Despite her youthful look and apparently violent temper, she also had a mothering quality that the other vampires seemed to accept, as if her stabbings were as normal to them as a light swat would be to a high-spirited child.She turned toward me. Im sorry for your troubles, Stefan. Now, can I help you be on your way? she asked.I looked around wildly. Id thought no further ahead than escaping this room. I . . . dont have anywhere to go, she said with a sigh, finishing my thought. She glanced toward the other vampires, who were now huddled in the corner of the room, heads bent in conversation.Ill just be going, I said, struggling to my feet. My leg was fine, but my arms shook, and my lead came erratically. With local vampires watching my every move, where would I go? How would I feed?Nonsense, youre coming with us, she said, routine on her heel and walking out the door. She pointed to the young vampire and the one who wore glasses. Percy and Hugo, stay and clean this place up.I had to much run to keep up with her and the ta ll, scarred vampire whod watched my torture. Youll need someone to show you around, she explained, pausing only slightly. This is Buxton, she said, grabbing the elbow of the vampire with the long scar.We walked down street after street until we neared a church with a tall spire.Were here, she said, turning sharply to enter a wrought-iron gate. Her boots echoed against a slate path that led to the rear of a house. She opened the door, and a musty scent greeted me. Buxton promptly walked through the parlor and up a set of stairs, leaving me and the young female vampire alone in the darkness.Welcome home, she said, spreading her hands wide. There are plenty of spare rooms upstairs. Find one that suits you.Thank you. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took in my surroundings. nigrify velvet curtains fastened with golden rope blocked every window. make clean motes floated in the air, and gilt-framed paintings covered the walls. The furniture was threadbare, and I could just make o ut two sweeping staircases with what looked like oriental runners and, in the next room, a piano. Though at one point this must have been a grand house, now the soiled walls were cracked and peeling, and cobwebs draped over the gold-and-crystal pendant above us.Always enter through the back. Never draw back the curtains. Dont ever bring anyone here. Do you understand, Stefan? She looked at me pointedly.Yes, I said, running a finger along the marble fireplace, cutting a path in the inch-thick dust.Then I think you will like it here, she said.I turned to face her, nodding in agreement. My panic had subsided, and my arms no continuing trembled.Im Lexi, she said, holding out her hand, allowing me to raise it to my lips and kiss it. I have a feeling that you and I will be friends for a long time.