Author: Mynmsths PM
Long ago I met a man, he ended my life as I knew it. So now years later armed with an ex hunter, Tomus Wheeler and the drive to kill I am going to end his life forever, or at least I thought I was going to. A Vampire Story. Sequel to Meeting Him. ON HIATURated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Supernatural - Chapters: 10 - Words: 21,033 - Reviews: 22 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 09-26-09 - Published: 12-14-08 - id: 2608168
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Hey guys this is obviously the sequel to meeting him, so if you haven't read that yet then I'd advise you to go and read it. Uh this is a little rough and I can't promise the fastest updates in the world but here it is and I hope that you enjoy.
Title: Finding Him
Chapter Title: Where... We Meet People and See People
Summary: Twenty two years after her death Ara has finially found a link to the man that killed her. So with an ex-hunter, the mans brother and a unlimited amount of resources provided by the FBI she sets out to get revenge over the man who has ruined her life.
Where… We Meet People and See People
I frowned slightly as I looked at my latest kill. He was homeless and dirty and his blood tasted horrible but still he used to be a person. Even if no one else ever noticed him he was still alive and… I still killed him.
I know that anytime anyone else sees me they are probably all like 'wow that is the worst monster ever, actually having feelings'. But it probably has something to do with the fact that I was "orphaned" by my "father."
But it's easy to find prey in this huge city, especially men. My bright, blue, glowing eyes seem to draw them in, Like how that big deep sea fish thing and it's glowing antenna draws in the fish and then it eats them… actually exactly like how that big deep sea fish thing and it's glowing antenna draws in fish… but prettier. And of course my long, shiny, smooth black hair and soft, delicate features can't hurt. Neither can the fact that I'm only five feet tall and extremely petite. No one actually expects me to go and tear their throats out.
But even though all those guys are asking for it I still feel kind of bad. But I mostly turn all my angst over killing (mostly) innocent people into rage towards the man that made me this way. But that's another story for another day.
I left the dead man, right where I killed him and went on with my way. Eventually someone might find him but there won't be an investigation and no one will worry or cry over his death. And as sad as that is, it works better for me in the long run.
You see if there's not investigation there's no evidence pointing at me and if there's no evidence then no one can connect the killings back to me. Because you see no one wants to buy coffee from a murdering bloodsucker.
"Hello everyone," I greeted as I walked into my cozy little coffee shop tucked nicely into a busy Chicago street corner. It was called A Mug of Paradise, a cup sounds better of course, but that was still kind of taken.
There were a few people in there drinking different types of coffee while sitting in their chairs. I didn't actually have any tables, just several comfy chairs positioned around the room, and a couple bar stools against the front counter.
I had eight employees but only two worked at a time. One person would work at the counter and the other would clean up messes, wash the glass mugs the coffee was served in, and just do other random things that needed to get done.
Right now Cara was working the counter. I'm pretty sure that she is sixteen. And she always has her long brown hair pulled up in a ponytail and a pair of glasses covering her light brown eyes. She was rather plain in looks but a great person in the long run.
And she was always really neat, making sure that she looked really nice, so… today must have been a bad day, she had a coffee stain on the front of her red and black collared uniform shirt and her hair was half falling out of her ponytail.
The other person that was working here tonight is Miles Matthews. He appears to be about twenty-six, but is really a couple years older than that. I basically adopted him as my own when I found him orphaned in a cemetery; whoever created him was just as messed up as the bastard that made me.
He has short extremely curly, blond hair and deep blue eyes. He also has a nice strong face and very nicely sculpted lips and he has a lot of very subtle muscles built into his slim frame. Plus at 6'2" he is definitely a force to be reckoned with.
But anyways he's a hard worker and so is Cara, plus Miles is extremely grateful of me; I saved his life a few times while he was still 'coming to terms' with what he is now. But he's all better now, and I am very glad for that.
"So, how did it go tonight?" I asked Cara with a slight grin as the last couple people went out the door.
"Well that depends, do you mean for you or for me?" she asked before answering, "Because for you, you made almost 170 dollars my shift alone. But for me, it was a night of living hell, no joke."
"Well I'm very sorry to hear that Cara, but money is money. And if they were so troublesome you could have had Miles toss a few out, lord knows he has enough muscle," I said laughing at Miles's slight pout. "Well anyways, you can go home, Cara. Miles and I will close and clean up. If I'm not mistaken you have a test tomorrow, right?"
"Did my mom tell you about that? Because you need to tell her that Mi helped me study the whole time. Well anytime that neither of us were doing anything productive," I nodded and reassured that I'd tell her mom that as she walked out the door.
"Okay Miles, you clean behind the counters I'll clean in front…. How long has it been since you've fed?" I asked after a few seconds, as I looked at his sunken eyes and pale features.
"Only a few days… to a week at the latest," he admitted after several minutes.
"Miles, you know how often you are suppose to feed, everyday that you don't you are putting Cara and our customers in danger. Do you want that?" I asked him, my voice rising.
"No, but I don't like killing," he whined.
"Miles, you have been like this for seven years now. Technically you would have been separated from me by now if we were a normal pair so you need to make sure that you feed regularly regardless if you like to kill humans or not. Killing humans isn't my most favorite thing in the world but I do it. I do it don't I?" he nodded miserably, "I do it because I have to. Now go out find some crack whore and get a drink, go get some blood." I urged him off and he walked sulkily out of the café.
I mean seriously of all people to worry about killing. His whole life was based off hunting until a trip seven years ago turned the sweet kid I remembered into a monster.
When I found him, I thought at first he was his brother. And that initial thought caused me to want to leave, but I didn't. And now I'm glad that I didn't. Because he wouldn't have survived if I hadn't intervened. When you spend your whole life hating something and then you become it then you won't be too happy with your life anymore.
I finished closing up, and left locking the door behind me. Mi's and my apartment is two blocks away from the coffee shop, about a ten-minute walk if I walk slow… and if it's busy. But seeing as I live in Chicago the streets will always be busy, but I'm not complaining. The more people the more likely I'll be able to find him.
And by him I mean the man who created the monster that I am now, because I am still a bit bitter about it. I was perfectly happy. I had just been reunited with my father, I had a crush on this hot guy, I had an aunt who loved me, I had a best friend, and countless other things that any other girl would have loved. But no I had to have been 'killed'.
So I've basically spent the last twenty years trying to find this man. The first two years of my 'life' were spent trying to regain my sanity, which is incredibly hard to do by yourself.
But in those last twenty years never had I so much as found a trace of these men. Not one bit of them has been found, they haven't even left one trail for me to follow.
And if I thought that I could ever fool anyone who knew anything about us I would enlist a hunter's help, well a certain group that is now middle aged and one member shorter.
I had a brief meeting with The Crusaders in my human life. And as far as I can tell they were the best hunters ever known. They'd found the Wheeler brothers once before, so if I didn't think that I would be dead two point five seconds after meeting them again then I would go to them, but I would be, so I can't.
I took the thirteen flights of stairs up to Miles's and my apartment. It had four bedrooms, and was in fairly nice shape. We had a nice view of the city street below us, so that was definitely pretty nice.
I sat down on the black couch and turned on the news.
"I just got breaking news," the news lady exclaimed excitedly. I'm sure that everyone remembers Arabella Adams and her horrible death in our city streets twenty two years ago. Well her case has been cold since her death the killer left no evidence at all. But I have been told that a Fredrick Coaler just came forward with the killer's name. The name has not been disclosed at this point but as you can all see it can't be Mr. Coalers cover up. He hardly looks old enough to know about Ara."
The photo that came up on the screen shocked me more than anything else had so far. This Mr. Fredrick Coaler that isn't old enough to know about the murder is no other than the exclusives Tomus Wheeler. I stared at the screen in shock until it switched to a commercial. That's when Miles came in.
"Hey Ara, I thought that you didn't like commercials," Miles sat down beside me.
"Hey Mi. I think that I may have just got the chance to find my killer," I told with a slight smile.
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