| ~ Playing With Fire ~ |
| I walked into the Black Escape Bar in eastern New Orleans. It was smoky, and it smelled as if a skunk had crawled in there and died. Maybe several skunks. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of unwashed tourists. I slowly let my breath out, and then I valiantly fought my way through the crowd, and easily pushed burly men out of my way. It was a loosing battle until I growled loudly. The men looked at me and then scattered at I angrily strode to the bar. There were no empty bar stools, so I emptied one. It wasn�t that hard to do. All I did was bat my eyes at a promising older man and told him that I�d let him buy me a drink if he let me have his seat. I slid into the recently vacated seat as he tried to order me a Bloody Mary. I told the bartender that I wanted a wine cooler. I grinned nastily as I opened the wallet I had filched from the older mans pocket. I let out a quiet snicker as I counted out three major credit cards, one minor, over two hundred dollars in cash and a driver�s license. I silently scanned it and took in the fact that he was from Texas. I carefully put it in my jacket pocket and then scanned the crowded room. I felt a tap on my shoulder and quickly turned back around. �Can I see some ID?� The overweight bartender asked me. I silently damned him to Hell as I searched my pockets for my wallet. I grinned as I found it and handed him my stolen ID. I waited as he looked it over. He looked at the ID, then at me, then back at the ID several times before nodding and handing it back to me. I shivered as I felt a gaze burning into my head. I looked around and caught the gaze of the man who had been staring at me. I carefully looked him over. He wasn�t that bad looking, as far as I could tell. Maybe six foot, long hair that was pulled into a ponytail. He was wearing black sunglasses and playing darts. I raised my eyebrows, must have talent. I turned back around to my drink and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was blatantly staring at me. Okay, now I was getting creeped out. I knew that I shouldn�t have been getting creeped out. Lot�s of men had stared at me, but his gaze was so�concentrated. I felt like a mouse being watched by the cat. I quickly finished my drink and ordered a screwdriver. I thought that it might help calm my nerves. It usually did, at least until my healing factor kicked in. I would have a buzz for about five minutes. Yeah, I know. Not fun. But, hey, that�s life. I downed the tumblerful as the bartender watched in awe. I guess he�d never seen a girl down a drink before. Well, there�s a first time for everything. I turned around again, and looked at the strange, attractive man that was staring at me. I glanced at the floor, and turned back around to pay the bartender for tip and tab. I sighed and started to make my way through the crowd. I instinctively glanced behind me and saw the strange man following me. I mutely swore at him. I couldn�t make any more money because I was being followed. I glanced at my watch and swore again as I realized it was already morning. I tiredly sighed then glanced at the man again. I knew that I could handle whatever he dished out, but I didn�t want to. Not today. I didn�t have the energy or the patience. If he wasn�t lucky, he could end up dead. I hurried out the door. I had nowhere to go, no place to hide and no one to run to for protection. I was alone. I had been alone for as long as I could remember. I tensed up in anticipation as I heard stealthy footsteps behind me. He was good. Very good, but I was better. I sniffed and he smelled different. It was a good thing that I was downwind from him. That was when I was the predator, and not the prey. I evilly grinned at the thought of the hunt, at the thought of the excitement of the chase. I sniffed again, and found out that he smelled different. He didn�t smell�normal. He wasn�t human, I was sure of that fact. Mutant, maybe. He walked even closer behind me. If I wasn�t part animal, I wouldn�t have known he was there. I felt him touch the pocket that held my newfound wallet. That was when I felt the uncontrollable, animal-like rage. I fought it, at first. Then I let it take me over. A wave of red washed over me as I spun around and grabbed his wrist. I used my momentum to throw him into the brick building. He hit the shadowy brick hard enough to momentarily stun him. In the seconds that it took him to draw in a breath, I changed. My canines sharpened and lengthened. My fingernails grew into four-inch sabers, sharp enough to easily cut through muscle and tendon. I held my claws at his throat, right at the hollow at the base of his neck. I pushed my hand closer towards him, hard enough that I drew small beads of blood where my claws punctured the soft, fragile skin of this throat. �You will tell me why you decided to prey on an innocent woman, or I will kill you now,� I growled into his face. The animalistic rage I felt was right on the surface, throbbing. It wanted to finish him. It didn�t want to let him answer. It was really starting to hurt my arm, holding it so high for so long. I hoped that he would let me kill him. I really did. He swallowed several times and then attempted to speak. He spoke too softly, though, and I had a short patience, and a large temper. The feral instinct in me wanted out, and it wanted out badly. It clung to the surface of my mind, constantly reminding me of it. �Speak up, unless you want to be headless,� I snarled at him. |
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