Trixie located another sucker.
That familiar tingle tickled down her spine; the nasty sensation set off whenever she got near to one of those blood-drinking bastards. She could virtually smell it lurking in the shadows of the destitute house she was currently eyeing from across the street. Blocked-up windows, run down locality. The usual fare. A fanghead was sitting on the crumbling wall encircling the front yard. Another was lounging on the porch. Being lookouts, protectors, waiting for the sanctuary of nightfall so they could finally get their venom. To the untrained eye, they were just dregs hanging out around a derelict building, shooting the shit, wasting their lives. In that respect, they’d be right. But, what Joe Six Pack could never imagine was what they were really up to.
She licked her lower lip that tingling swiftly evolving into a slight burn; a sliver of desire. She swiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes narrowing. She allowed those other emotions—the ones she had better control over—hate, anger, rage to wipe them away, to erase those dark desires in an instant. She got in the groove once more, focusing in on the fangheads loitering by that house. They were busy guarding, protecting their master from people like her. Those that intended to put an end to their suffering. Those that wanted to end the madness stem the tide before it became an unstoppable wave. She counted two on the outside, maybe more on the inside. She’d come back at night, see if any more arrived, assess the situation, then come up with a plan to shut this particular drug factory down for good.
She watched a fanghead idly swing a stumpy tree branch. To a casual observer, he was just messing with a stick he’d picked up off the ground, but Trixie knew better. If she dared to go near that house, and he viewed her as a threat to his venom fix, he’d be more than ready to swing that stick, hoping to smack her upside the head. He’d most likely try and smash her brains into a pulp, then stamp his boot all over the remains, just to make double sure the threat was neutralized. Nothing could get in the way of their addiction. Nothing.
She watched the other one; his leg twitched nervously while he gnawed on his nails. She glanced up to see the hot orange sun lowering into the roofline beyond the house she was staring at. Nightfall was coming on swift. The vamp inside that boarded-up house would rise, and then the party would begin.
Trixie sighed. Even though she was well-versed in this shit, watching this kinda stuff still hurt. Now she just used it as motivation, as another way of overriding the tingling, the burns, the desires.
She watched the fanghead biting his nails look up to the gradually darkening sky, saw the sick grin that spread across his face as his eyeballs rolled left and right, the realization night was on its way setting in. She couldn’t take any more. She turned and fled back into the concrete jungle of Chicago, back into its shadows.
But, she’d be back; just when they least expected.