Psyche

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The beginning of an adventure into the darkness of the soul.
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Him

The colors red and black glisten in the dark of the small room. The moonlight coming in through the drapes framing the middle of the floor like a pretty picture. Hair the color of chocolate fans out around a face as dark as cocoa and eyes like black stars, glittering with life so many minutes ago, now dark and vitality drained. He stands in the corner, just out of sight, and picks up an old gun, sitting on the nightstand where she'd run not too many minutes ago. He puts the bullets back in and sets it back in its' place. He had let her run for it, he'd let her try to pull the trigger only to find it empty... and he smiled.

Her

She wakes up to light shining in through her windows. The light of day always makes her feel alive and full of energy. She bounces out of bed and into the bathroom. She removes her shirt, her underwear, and gets in the shower. She sighs in happiness at the feeling of warmth that permeates her being. When she is finished, she dresses for work. She works as a police officer, special division. A division that deals with those who are dead.

I sigh as I look at my uniform, body armor and black netting. Looks sexy don't get me wrong, I love it but I just don't like what it represents. Death. Maybe it's for those who are already dead but I detested killing, finding it beneath me. But I must wipe those creatures from the face of the earth. The loathsome creatures that beckon for death with their very existence. So I suck it up and do what needs to be done. I pull out my cross and strap it on. It goes over my chest, it sort of sits in between by breasts, as frightfully small as they are, and rubs over them with its' arms when I move too vigorously. I pick up my gun and head out the front door. The rounds in my gun were filled with blessed wood splinters. If you hit them in the heart, it was a sure death. If not, it at least slowed them down.

I march out of my room and into the mess hall, everyone is already there, having breakfast and waiting for the stragglers to be ready. We were on duty from eight a.m. till eight p.m. we had the best shift there was. Rarely ever were there vampires out in the sunshine and rarely did we lose more than a handful of men every year. We didn't wake up at ungodly hours or stay up to them. We had enough people to cover both time constraints. Eight to eight. Nine to seven. I got some breakfast and waited for a seat to reveal itself to me. I didn't have friends, I didn't acquaint myself with others very often. I find a seat on the floor down the hall, eat my food, and throw away my dishes when I'm done. They were plastic. I walk back to the barracks and pick up extra clips for my guns. I walk outside, waiting in the sun, soaking up its' shining energy and reveling in the light of life and good.

I could almost feel sorry for the people who were changed. They never got to experience the sun again. Not unless they were especially strong and resilient to the light of day. But I fell short of feeling bad for them, just so. I sigh and step into the very dark van, hearing others march to my location and feeling the truck dip with their weight. We were going on rounds, it was normal, everyday. What wasn't normal was the hit we got on the sensor. A vampire was out in the daytime, and he was killing. We rushed to the scene of course, the bumping of the van making me somewhat sick, as it was relatively far away. We stopped, the doors opened and we stepped out into the sunlight to find a home in the middle of suburbia with blood staining a window and the insides of the room. We looked into that window and saw the body of a black woman with long tresses lying on the floor.

We secured the area around the house before going inside and securing the house itself. We kept the kill room cordoned off for the investigators. I was close to that promotion, investigation would be my area after this month was over. They couldn't deny my request, I was a good soldier. The investigator was an older man, this was his jurisdiction as well as ours, so we crossed paths sometimes in the fullness of the light. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was a vampire. But we'd long since learned that not all vampires looked this way, so I couldn't say he looked like one. But I could say he looked like the old superstition. Dashing, debonair, whatever you call it, he was handsome and virile. His hair was silver, gray and white lined up together and shimmering in the sunlight. I smile to him and turn back to my duty as guard. His hand touches my hair as he passes by and I smirk to myself.

We were lovers you see, he was much older than I and yet still so strong and young-looking. I had wanted him from the first time I'd seen him, and now I had him. We didn't keep it a secret but we were discreet. There were rumors about us but no one really believed or disbelieved. It was simply something to talk about. I hear him order those closest into the room to move the body so he could see the other side of her neck. Apparently he couldn't touch her until he was ready to sense for the vampire who took her life. Investigators were given a special mental chip, they recorded everything about the body, any lingering smells, any measurements, like those of the teeth circumference and distance apart. They were automatically recorded and if they were to encounter another sign of the vampire the chip would alert them immediately.

He was finished before we were done being bored with just standing around doing nothing. So that was good. He came out and ordered us to move on, he'd call the coroner and the staker to make certain her body was taken care of. If you staked a body it wouldn't become a vampire. Who knows if he shared his soul with her? So we had to take precautions.

There were no nice vampires, like in those old stories. None on our side, fighting for us. None watching over all of us. So we killed without discrimination and without pause.

Next week found me at home, on my day off for the month, with my lover due to be there at any moment. I dressed in bright red, crimson was my favorite color after all. I assume it's because I have to somehow associate that color with something good. I dress in a backless number that has a corset style bodice. It gives me the illusion of cleavage and even though he's told me numerous times that he loves my breasts, I still think I should have more. Vampire whores get to have C-cup breasts, all of them somehow grow and shrink when they change, so they all have the same figure. I don't know how it's accomplished but I'd love to simulate it for my own breasts. I would never sell my soul for a body like that of course not. But I would give almost anything else.

Have I told you my lovers' name yet? No? Marcus. Marcus Shroeding. He knocks on the door and I gasp, as I haven't gotten my stockings clipped to my underwear yet. He loved that small obstacle, he even left them on and worked around them he liked them so much. I hurry as I yell, "Just a moment!" He waits patiently as I hook them together and finally hobble over to the door. I open it and he's standing there in a tux, looking as rugged as ever. He had the smallest smattering of hair over his jaw, just enough to scratch and tickle. I giggle as he kisses me and pulls me into his body, shutting the door. His hands smooth my hair back from my face as he kisses my cheeks, my forehead, my nose. He pecks my chin and I stop giggling as he stares into my eyes. I loved it when he did that. Like he was peering into my soul, he stared and seemed to assess. "It's good to see you. I made a reservation for dinner, but it's not for another two hours. How much trouble do you think we could get into?" I grin and move my body along his, feeling the evidence of his arousal. I unzip the front of my corset and his hand slips into the gap it makes.

Dinner was wonderful of course. We ate lobster, steaks, and caviar. I didn't have much of a taste for rich food but Marcus loved to give me the best. I was fine with it so I didn't complain. Who would, really? He patted my hand when I smiled and squeezed when I made a face at the snooty waiter. He was chuckling when he walked me home and my kiss goodnight was full of promises for later.

I went to bed alone that night, as with every other night. I sigh in dejection as I fall slowly asleep, my body relaxing and my breathing evening out. And then I felt it. Deep within my dreams, I felt a disturbance in my mind. It was slimy, intrusive and disgusting. I screamed in my dream but I knew I made no noise in the real world. There was a bone shuddering chuckle and a finger down my spine. Then I woke up to the sunshine shining through my window. I was late!

I jumped out of bed and ran for my uniform in the closet. I jumped around the room as fast as I could, dressing, putting on make-up and my special scent. Oh my make-up was special too. Once you put it on, you looked like everyone else around you. It was something that made your features blend in with all others around you. It confused vampires when we went to attack. The scent I use would drive them crazy with thirst. It was blood concentrate. It wasn't red but it did do the job so I didn't nitpick.

I ran out and into the mess hall, I had to get breakfast before-!

RING----RING---DING---DONG

NOOOOO! I was too late!

I rushed to follow after my fellow soldiers and load up in the van to go on patrol. We all smooshed inside and I sighed as my stomach growled loudly in hunger. "Have too much fun last night?" I look to my left and see a muffin in the hands of one of my comrades, he's smirking at me and I'm gobsmacked at his face, it's something I've never seen before. Since when has he been here? "I'm Krad, Krad luos. Everyone I know just calles me Kay." I nod and try to turn away but he grasps my arm and pulls me back around, "Want?" He nudges the muffin against my hand and I take it.

"Thank you."

"No problem, we ARE comrades in arms after all right?" His smile stuns me and I sit there staring at him a few moments before turning away and quickly eating the muffin.

His hair is a sprightly black color, short on both sides of his head and spiked forward in the middle. The long strands from the middle of his head reach all the way up to spike out over his brow. He puts on his helmet and smiles at me again. I put on my helmet and everyone around is tensed, on alert, ready to go after the next vampire with speed and fortitude. I admire them for their courage and hope that I look as steadfast as I am determined to destroy vampires, but may seem too soft on the outside, as my face is round and childish. I flick down my visor as the alert goes off and the rest follow suit. We are ready. We are many. We are Slayers.

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