Chapter 1
1: Happy Endings
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Part One
Her name was Yolanda and that's all he knew. She was new to the city and was making her way tending bar in this downtown lounge.
Downtown was full of a lot of weirdos. It was best to be polite when you serve them, polite but not too polite, friendly - but from a distance. Wesley had the game down pat for years. Hiding in plain sight had become an artform.
She could have been anyone that night. Working, or playing.. staying out much too late.
It didn't really matter. He had no sense of vampire romanticism. She was pretty, but that was incidental.
He preferred his "victims" to be women.
The reason was practical more than anything.
It was much easier to carry them home afterwards.
Wesley: I'm sorry to have startled you.
Yolanda: What are you some kind of creep? Were you following me?
He only smiled at the accusation.
Wesley: This isn't the best place to be strolling around at 3 in the morning, ma'am.
Yolanda: No kidding. Listen, it's really great to stop and chat with strange guys in bad neighbourhoods, but I'm going to keep walking this way. I've called a cab and if you try anything...
Wesley: No, I wouldn't hurt you. At least, not too much.
Yolanda looked up into his eyes and something gripped her in that second that she did. It was fear, but it was tempered with a strange sense of calm. He could hear her heart beat faster, pushing her blood closer to the surface of her skin. As much as she was mesmerized by him, he was just as aroused by the rush of that blood.
Yolanda: What are you...?
Wesley: Don't worry... I just need something from you and I'll leave you be.
But her voice trailed off into an ecstatic sigh as he quickly took her into his arms. His lips brushed tenderly against her neck, seeking out the vein that would feed him.
He had perfected his method through experience. The bite was quick and painless and he feasted enough to sate his cursed cravings, just as he had done many times before...
... but something was very different. He could feel it immediately.
Her gasp was harsh, her breath irregular. With a small cry, she slipped from his arms.
She lay still against the pavement, cold and breathless. He stared down in disbelief, unable to move or comprehend what had just happened.
"No..." his voice was a whisper.
This hasn't happened before. He had only fed to sustain himself but he never killed. He would always bring his prey back to safety and all they would remember was a strange dream or nightmare. But as she lay there unmoving, he realized one of his worst fears had come true.
Death: It's about bloody time I get some business from you. Hello Wesley, lovely evening.
Wesley: Please. I never meant for this to happen.
Death: For this? Or for your sad fate? Either way, dear boy, it's out of your hands.
Wesley: I wouldn't have ... if I had known she would die.
Death: Wouldn't, couldn't, regret is a wonderfully human expression. You are what you are, Wesley. And these things do happen.
Wesley: And that is supposed to make me feel better? Why don't you take me instead... like you could have done years ago...
Death: Don't tell me how to do my job. And a little consideration for Yolanda, please. Don't make this all about you. Your time was not then... at least not exactly... your time is not now.
Death: But we will meet again, Wesley Vaughn.
"Hey!!!"
By the time the passerby found Yolanda, Wesley was far gone.
Wesley fled as far as he could, unseen by human eyes. The night replayed in his mind and filled him with terror and guilt. How could this have happened? How could he not feel the changes in her pulse? How could he have drunk so much? He had always been so careful.
And she was just an innocent woman. Yolanda should not have died that night, not by his doing. There was no satisfaction in appeasing his bloodlust this time. All there was was a sick feeling in his stomach. Despite who he was and what he was, he had always lived by his own personal edict and he had never once killed.
"I see we had an exciting night."
Wesley: Go away, Clara.
Clara: It's been a while, Wesley. Nice to see you too.
Clara: Just as cute and undead as ever.
Wesley: Leave me alone, I mean it.
Clara only laughed and looked at him with a knowing smile.
Clara: Then I'll keep it short and sweet. Are you ready to play ball?
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Part Two
Once upon a time, there was a King and Queen who had two beautiful princesses.
They lived in a sprawling mansion near the edge of a great and noble kingdom. They were the wealthiest family in all the land.
Once upon a time, the youngest princess knew nothing except happiness.
Back then, the King was her hero.
The Queen was a beautiful songstress who regaled audiences far and wide.
The elder Princess was wise and brave.
And there was even a knight.
The King and Queen were once very much in love and it seemed that nothing could tear them apart.
But then things went to shit.
And the happy kingdom was ruined.
Cecilia Baird liked to think of herself as the heroine in this pathetic little story that she made up in her head. It was all she could do to deal with it all when she was younger, and she always imagined the story with a happily-ever-after. But the elder Princess had gone off to college and she was left in this house to deal with the torn up pages by herself.
She thought of it as she mindlessly went through her things, currently scattered all over her bedroom floor. Carelessly, she tossed stuff in boxes and luggage knowing full well she could have finished all this packing earlier.
Who imagined themselves as little princesses anymore anyway, Cecilia thought. Make-believe was a game that children played to escape how shitty their lives were. There was no such thing as magical kingdoms, fairy godmothers and evil sorcerors. It was fun to dream but when you come back to reality it's a slap in the face.
She moved aside another box to reveal another pile of forgotten books and magazines that had been stuffed under her bed.
She recoiled slightly at what she found.
How did that get there? she wondered to herself. Why did I keep that?
*BEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEP*
"Cecilia! Come on!"
She finished up what she needed to do, wondering if this was the last time she could ever call this place home, her lovely glass fortress. She quietly shut her bedroom door and headed outside. She was anxious to get out of here and start a new life. If she was at all sad about leaving, she wouldn't dare show it. At least not to him.
Clive: So what, I don't get a goodbye hug?
Cecilia: Dad, it's not like I'm moving to Takemizu or something. Sim U is just a suburb away.
Clive: It's far enough away. University is a whole other world.
Cecilia: Sure, whatever.
Clive: I know you don't want to hear any of this but you're getting the shpiel anyway.
Cecilia: Yeah I know, Jasmine gave me the run down. Study hard, don't go out alone, there's a time and place for the bubble blower, etcetera...
Cecilia: It's cool, Dad, I'm old enough to take care of myself.
Clive: But you're never old enough to stop being my daughter.
Cecilia: You know you never treated Jasmine like she was a little girl.
Clive: You're different. She's different. Doesn't mean I don't worry about her the same way.
Jasmine: Let's go already, I have a shitload of stuff I have to do today!
Cecilia: Okay, Dad, it's great that we had our sappy father-daughter moment but big sis' is killing the mood.
Cecilia: I'll call when I get moved in.
It was weird. This was the most she's ever spoken to her father, let alone share affection, in months.
Jasmine: Took you long enough.
Cecilia: Sorry I had some last minute packing.
Jasmine: I really don't think Grandpa's truck can handle another long trip. I hope you didn't forget anything.
Cecilia: If I did, it's nothing important.
Jasmine: Looking forward to your college years?
Cecilia was quiet for a while as her sister pulled out of the driveway.
Cecilia: Yeah I am. But I wish Mom were here.
Jasmine didn't reply as she drove down the street away from home. Cecilia thought back to the one thing that she did leave behind that for some strange reason she already missed.
Earlier, she had sat in her room looking down at the magazine for what seemed like ages while her sister impatiently blared the horn downstairs. She should have just thrown it out ages ago.
"The Scandal Issue" "Exclusive pics of Denise and her secret lover"
In the end, she just left it. All it could do was remind her that there was no such thing as happy endings.
next » [ Chapter 2: Old Friends ]