A Summary of Chapter Three: While waiting in an alleyway, Vincent is joined by a cat and then, who he's been waiting for: a drunken couple. Now he must finish the mission that Miss Blackwell sent him on, so with teeth gleaming ...
The woman was of no use to Vincent: he carefully picked her up and deposited her against the cold brick wall of the alley, out of his way. The man was all that was needed now. Keeping his piercing violet gaze upon the intimidated man, he advanced, speaking with precise diction.
"Your life is not worth the garbage you now tread upon." His tone was quiet, but menacing as a hungry lion on the prowl. The presence of the sharp, white fangs protruding from his attacker's mouth did nothing for the man's nerves.
"Here," he said, fumbling through his pockets nervously, "Here, take my wallet! Take it all and leave me alone!" The terrified man tossed his wallet to Vincent, who caught it with the grace of a dancer.
As Vincent rifled through the wallet, the man began to inch sideways, past the still unconscious woman. Vincent found what he was looking for: a driver's license.
"Darren Westwing. It is so very enlightening to know my victims' names before they go to waste." He looked up at Darren. "You won't be going anywhere with anyone tonight, my friend."
"W-what do you mean? What are you going to do to me?"
Taking a step close, Vincent said, casually, "We are going to play a little game." He drew his hands together in front of his chest and drummed his fingertips together from bottom to top. "Here are the rules. You are the rabbit. I am the wolf." Vincent caught Darren's eyes in a paralyzing gaze. "You will have exactly five seconds to run before I come after you. Following that, all is fair. Ready? Go!" Darren was so struck with fear at the vampire's stare, he remained absolutely motionless.
"One ... two ... three ... four ... five!"
Something flew above the alleyway, briefly distracting Vincent from his prey. He did not enjoy killing helpless mortals, especially when he had the advantage of mind control, but he had been hired to do the job however he saw fit.
Darren blinked once, then bolted, not wanting to know what Vincent had planned. With incredible speed and agility, the wolf lunged at the rabbit, catching him by the back of his rust-colored, cotton jacket. The rabbit was thrown against the hard brick wall with a thud. The sound of the shattered bones disturbed Vincent greatly, but he did not let on.
"I gave you the chance to run, but you declined." Vincent placed his strong hands against his shoulders, pinning him to the wall.
"W-what are you g-going to do to me?" the now sober man asked.
"A wolf must eat, must he not?" With his left hand, he gently bent his victim's neck to the left, exposing the throbbing jugular vein of his helpless victim. Darren cried out, waking his date. She screamed at the sight of the Vincent draining Darren's lifeblood. She scuttled away, leaving Vincent to finish his gruesome feeding in solitude, save for the stray cat dining on trash.
Back on the street, Miss Blackwell waited impatiently for Vincent's return, the toe of her black heel tapping a steady rhythm on the dampened pavement. He soon appeared, wearing the sunglasses she had seen during their first meeting.
"It's about time you showed up!"
"I was merely finishing the job, Miss Blackwell. You should not question me. Now, about the payment?"
"Oh, yes. Your reward is in my apartment. I assumed it would be safer there, rather than out here in the streets."
"Quite," he replied simply.
The two walked to her apartment in silence. The building was dark and the elevator empty. On the third floor landing there was the usual drunk thrown out by his wife. Miss Blackwell turned the key and stepped inside, flipping on the light, then turned to Vincent.
"Are you coming in for your reward, or would you rather stay with the drunk?"
He smiled briefly and stepped into the apartment. Miss Blackwell shut the door behind him. 1
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.