Saturday, January 10, 2009

Chapter 2: New faces, old stories.

Chapter 2
New Faces, Old Stories.

Her name is Ayumi Hattori. A vampire. She was turned at the age of 20 years old, and has been a vampire for twice that, yet she looks as if she were in her early twenties. Hair, white as a ghost; eyes, as cold and blue as the depths of a glacier. Japanese in descent, stern in demeanor, she looks like a priceless work of art chiseled out of fine marble. Yet, behind the facade of cold heartlessness, and the ageless intelligence in her eyes lies a girl who's been robbed of her youth, yearning for understanding, adventure. . . and sometimes, love.

She belongs to a coven of vampires who are battling against a company that uses their blood in experiments. This company is known as United Technologies. United Technologies is a government contracted military company "specializing in diversified defense routes and biotechnological warfare weaponry".

After infiltrating this company in the guise of a young chemistry student on an internship, she was found accessing top secret files from her desktop computer. Once found, she was immediately "interrogated" in "a constitutional and humane manner", and thrown in a cell in an underground jail facility after keeping her lips sealed. Now, after days melded into one another, without contact with her coven, without a drop of blood to drink, she was getting tired, despondent, and isolated. She didn't need to feed yet, but she could feel the life slowly being sapped away. She needed to escape.

Shortly before the guards normally toss in some sort of cheap TV dinner and a glass of tapwater, the door opens.

The guards toss in a young man, and close the door tightly. He looked as if he were in his early twenties with brown hair, a goatee, and a few piercings. As he lay face down, she could hear his breathing, slow and involuntary.

*He must be tranquilized! I wonder where the hell they dragged him from.* She thought to herself.

*He was probably minding his own business when some of their ridiculous experiments ended up beating his door down. He probably survived only to be dragged away to this fucking cell. Poor guy.*

She already knew his whole story, already knew what he was in for. And yet there was something odd about him. She could smell in on his skin, radiating from his breath. What was it?
She couldn't quite place it. . .

He started to mumble incoherently. The moonlight from the tiny sliver of what could be considered a window shone on his face as he flipped over in a trance sleep.

*That's it! I know that smell! He's kindred. Descended from werewolves. He's definitely older than 10, when his tribe would take him through his first change. So what is going on? I guess I'll have to find out when he wakes up. The suspense is killing me!*

In this world, werewolves and vampires are just like humans. Some good, some bad, but most are just stuck in between, trying to make a living. She thought about him, and where she would take him if she could just break out of this hell. She sits up on the bed, staring at him, wondering silently as the tranquilizers slowly run their course.

There was a pack of werewolves living close to where her coven hid during times of duress. During the full moon, she and her elder, Segesvár, would join them around the fire. The pack seemed to be a little rough around the edges, but warm and welcoming at the same time. Perhaps she could introduce him, and help him become what he truly is inside. The thought warmed her heart, and gave her hope. A goal. A reason to break out. God will he ever wake up?

"Uugh. What the fuck. . . " He suddenly groaned while reaching up to his head.
She was caught in mid-thought. *What should I say?*

"You're awake! I thought you'd sleep forever." She says, surprised at her statement, almost forgetting what her own voice sounded like.

"Where am I? Who are y. . . " He stops in mid-sentence as he looks up at her, in awe.

"You're in an underground jail facility run by a company called United Technologies, and I'm a fellow jailmate, if you will. You can call me Ayumi. Is. . . something wrong?" She noticed he was staring blankly at her. Mustering up all of her courage, she resists blushing.

"S. . . sorry. I'm just a little confused. I was trying to get to sleep, when all of a sudden. . . "

"When all of a sudden you were attacked by zombies. Right?"

"Something like that. My roommates were playing drinking games out in the kitchen when they broke right through the front door. I picked up my handgun and shot most of them, but one of my roommates is dead, and the other. . . I have no idea." He said, in disbelief of his own words.

"They're both probably zombies, too. They probably put you in here to cover their tracks. You know the story. . . damage control. I'm sorry. It sounds like we've got a lot to talk about. So what's your name?"

"My names' Daniel Strachan."

{Creeeak} The meal door opens, and two crummy dinners are placed beside two lukewarm cups of tap water.

For a few seconds, the jail cell is silent. Then, silence gives way to more conversation, more explanation, more questions. Ayumi explains United Technologies to him. Their sinister ways, deceptive plans, and dark secrets. She tells him about her vampirism. The relationship between blood, and where UTechs "Zombies" came from. The reason she was stuck in the cell.

Hours turn into days, as they spent time getting to know each other, growing fond of each other, planning their escape.

They speak of why he was always so restless every month, why he didn't belong where he was, and why he had always felt out of place. He tells her what happened to his father, the day that Ayumi was assuming he was about to be introduced to his pack. . . the day he should have gone through important changes in his life. The day he should have become a werewolf.

After he learned of his heritage, Ayumi explains how she knows a pack of lycanthropes, and where to find them. They go on to plan a meeting with the pack, in hopes that they might take him under their collective wing, and teach him the ways of his people.

A few more days pass, as they plan, strategize, and come up with blank after blank, wondering just how to get out of this dreadful imprisonment. Waiting patiently. Watching for signs of weakness from the guards.

Finally. . . they had it all figured out. They knew what had to happen. It was all just a matter of time now. A matter to time before escape. Before freedom.

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