(no subject)

[jholloway.livejournal.com]

For about a year now I have been working for Dorothea, and she has been somehow controlling my brain. I don't think she knows I know, but too many things just don't add up -- like, I always know how much money I'm carrying on me, to the penny, but a lot of the time my memories and the actual amount don't add up. And it's not pickpockets either, because sometimes I have more than I should. Sometimes the times don't add up right, sometimes I've read another chapter in my book without noticing. Little things, you know.

Dorothea doesn't come out at night. Dorothea is pale and her skin is cool when she takes me -- about once a week on average -- to her bed. She warms up when we fuck, sure, but ... it isn't quite right.

I passed out during an emergency firefighting drill and had to get a physical. Doc gave me iron supplements. Little things, you know.

So to tell you that while I am sitting here at this table and Dorothea is explaining how she is a vampire I am mainly just thinking "well, frankly that explains a lot". And she is saying we are nature's aristocrats and born to rule over those of lesser blood and I think I see what's coming. And when she tells me, she pushes this dish across the table, like with the silver dome on the top like in a fancy restaurant, and under the dome there is the sweetest little pearl-handled .22, maybe a .25 I mean it isn't like I stopped to measure the fucking thing.

But that's not what I'm going for. I like this thing. I mean, it's simple math, right? 30 is closer than it looks, and there's no fucking promotions in store for Senior Airman Jerry Horvath. No college, no work experience, no jobs fuelling bombers back stateside. All the extra cash and pussy I can handle over here, but this black-market gig won't last forever. And I am smarter and quicker and just better than half, hell, most, hell, all of the college-boy fucks they put in charge of me but it will never, ever matter.

So fuck it. I'm taking what's behind the curtain.

And she's always so elegant that I'm surprised how rough she is with me and the fangs going in are not like I thought they would be and they hurt oh mama they hurt bad and all I can think is don't cry in front of her don't cry MOTHER and my hands are going cold and my feet

Dim lights dark room / woke with the nightfall, fuzzy-headed / what day is this?

Look around: window view, Dorothea's house, one floor up. Guest room.

Closet: suits, shoes, shirts, my sizes. Chair, folded: uniform. Bag: pistol, probably one of mine, Army M1911. Pockets: no keys no money. Desk: no phone. Door: locked?

Head: fuzzy still. Stomach: sick hungry, or sick sick?

Table: water jug, wine bottle, bread, fruit -- expensive stuff -- oranges, grapes. Cheese. Tastes funny chewing, have to force the swallow. Drink the whole jug / still thirsty / eat the entire loaf / still hungry and then oh God it all starts coming back up and I don't make it to the bathroom / this rug is fucking costly / she's gonna fucking kill me

Door noise: girl. Amy? Ellie? Emma. Emma, long sleeves but short skirt; she doesn't like the freckles on her arms. Emma likes to party / likes a drink / likes me / MOTHER doesn't like her / how'd she get in here? Eyes: concerned. Jerry, baby, are you all right? Jerry, you're sick.

Kneels down by me / arms around me / she's so warm / Jerry, baby, you're so cold are you OK? / cheek on mine / smells good / turn a little and see it and you know

and in that second I could not stop

and I bite and the blood floods into my mouth and I want to be sick / swallow instead / pouring hot and sticky down my throat / but it's so good / life and heat and strength in all my limbs and she's twitching and gasping in my arms / Jesus fuck she's having a fucking seizure or she's coming or something / her hands are cold too now

and in that second I could have stopped

but I didn't

Door noise: ignore it that moment

MOTHER there / MOTHER I can feel in my blood / a feeling I never felt before / and she says: and now you know what you are

and now you know what you are.

And I roar / actually roar like an animal / and I cross the room like a bullet from a gun / and black

in the black I hear the voices the first time / the litany of my blood / those strong voices / kings and conquerors / and hers among them / smaller than I thought

and they tell me: non serviam

and I know just how they feel