Night's Omen

Purezza wasn't a fan of house parties, least of all ones thrown by high-school aged Kendra vampires that milled about amongst mortal teens and waited until the clock struck a special hour before laying waste to the majority and turning one or two for their own benefit. It actually bored the shit out of her. This one, though, was different. She'd come victim hunting again. Toying with that cat had been fun, but Purezza was just itching to ruin someone's life.

She came upon a man not as young as the rest inside standing outside by the cars, cigarette in one hand, cell phone in the other. She guessed by that nauseous feeling she got (preposterous, what sort of vampire gets sick? She did, that's what. Damned curse) that he was on the phone with a girlfriend, wife, or something of the like. She felt like interrupting all the same, and so she did just as she pleased.

"Hey there, stranger," she said. She put a little twist on it, hoping to get the fool to hang up the phone. His back was still mostly to her, but she could make out enough of his face to know he was attractive; dark. Her type. Human, and that was all the more fun.

Maybe she'd make him put the cigarette out in his eye for fun.

Jared actually didn't care who was throwing the damn party, so long as he could get fully trashed and have some people he could associate with.  Even if he was just beating them into the ground in a game of pool, or really beating them into the ground, he didn't care.  He needed entertainment.

There was nothing entertaining about arguing with Angela.

"WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with me asking what you do when you vanish all night?  Are you seeing someone else?  I'll kill the fucker, I swear it," he threatened.  As far as he was concerned, he'd been totally honest with her and told her what he was up to, even though he'd been worried she'd drop his ass right then and there.  Instead, she'd busted out his window, which he'd had to fix that day.  He still wasn't happy about it.

That's when that chick passed by, and he glanced her way as he took a long drag off of his cigarette.  It was his second for this phone call.  He turned away, dismissing the woman, but found his eyes turning to her once again.  Damn, she was hot.  He had to wonder of Angela had heard.

He gestured to the total babe to hold on a second, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  He had to figure out where he and Angela were before he could decide what to do about a hot chick.  If she was going to dump him, on the phone no less, he was going to go have his fun.  If she'd calm down for HALF A SECOND and work things out, he'd tell the new bitch to take off. 

Yes, he was a vindictive asshole.

Purezza smiled graciously and really considered the cigarette to the eye trick right then. Who was he to tell her to hold on? But she indulged, as this lover's tiff was making her head hurt enough to intrigue her. This sounded like something she could ruin a lot of. She leaned against the bed of a pick-up truck and folded her arms, expression demure, prompting.

"Jesus CHRIST Jared, how much have you had to drink THIS time?" Angela shot back, before screaming out the window at someone who stopped in front of her with no blinker to turn. The black 3000GT VR4 got loud for a moment as she stomped the gas, and the exhaust note drown out the rest of her swearing.

"I TOLD YOU that I'd talk to you tomorrow, and that would have been today, except you wouldn't answer your phone and now you're fucking drunk. Can you FUNCTION, seriously, without one beer? Seriously?"

Purezza's brows raised as she listened on. Sounded like the girlfriend was hiding something from the boyfriend, and now they were fighting over it. Purezza could run with this one easy. She lowered her head a little, unwilling to entertain any more of this argument.

"Hang up the phone," she whispered to Jared. He wouldn't have been able to hear it in the sense that he'd notice it, but he'd definitely hear the command in his head. Purezza awaited the result.

"Oh, shut the FUCK up about my drinking.  I'll be drunk in about twenty minutes, and I'm sure as hell sober enough right now to hear you fucking changing the subject AGAIN.  God damn it, Angela, can't you just fucking tell me the TRUTH for a change?" he demanded, only more pissed for the fact that she was insulting HIM for drinking when she couldn't even be honest about the fact that she was fucking another dude. 

Hang up the phone.

He didn't so much hear it as just get the thought into his head that he'd had enough, that Angela could go spend the night at her knew guy's house, and he was going to go get plastered.  "You know what, Angela?  FUCK.  YOU."

He hung up.

He took another drag off his cigarette to finish it off, dropped and stepped on it before turning to the woman who'd stopped to 'chat'.  "Hey, sorry about that, I'm Jared.  What's your name?" he asked, for starters. 

Angela couldn't even get a word in edgewise before Jared just exploded and hung up at her. She banged her phone against the center console until the battery popped out and launched itself onto the passenger side floorboard by Hailee's feet. The girls exchanged looks, and Angela began ranting to Hailee instead of Jared.

Purezza smiled as he spoke, as though the previous few moments had never occured at all. "Purezza," she said, voice soft and lilting. "Sometimes people call me Purr, like the noise a cat makes? I don't mind either way." She held out her hand to shake his, and was very aware that she had to appear at least strange for not commenting on the fight.

"So, I take it you're newly single?" she asked dangerously. Here be the test of loyalty. She was interested to know the outcome, as it drastically played a role in whether she would turn him or just kill him. "Mind if I catch a light?" she asked sweetly, producing her own cigarette from her purse, which rested next to her on the bed of the truck. Purezza could go for a little bit of a death stick right now, sure.

He sighed, barely reining in his temper as he shook her hand.  Just because the phone conversation was over didn't mean that he was ready to just drop the argument.  He felt like kicking the truck next to him, but he wasn't going to spaz out in front of this girl.  "Purr, huh?  Well, I wish I could say I was newly single because it'd be a hell of a lot simpler, but her and I still have a lot of shit to figure out," he told her, his tone rather short.  He didn't have to sound happy about it.

He didn't say anything to her request for a light, instead just pulling out his lighter and offering it to her.  Chivalry wasn't his strong suit, so he wasn't lighting the cigarette for her, and he'd already had two himself.  He wasn't in that much of a hurry to die.  Ironic.

Purezza didn't need him lighting her cigarette. She didn't like fire near her face, especially not wielded by an angry mortal boy. She lit it and exhaled sharply, blowing a trail of smoke into the night sky and holding out his lighter simultaniously.

"Well, sorry to hear that. The fact that you're fighting, not that you're single," she said with a smile. And it was a lie. She was overjoyed to find that he was still dedicated to the girl. The heat of their argument had nearly made her vomit. Actually, even though he was mad, she still found it uncomfortable in his presence thanks to his overly emotional aura at the moment. She cleared her throat.

"Tell me what you were fighting about?" she asked of him after a pause. She'd have to lay the hypnosis on to get answers, she was pretty sure of it. He seemed like a typical human male. Stubborn, hot-headed. Unwilling to talk, at least, not about shit she wanted to hear.

He took the lighter back without thinking anything of the situation, and popped it into one of his pockets.  His cell was in another, though he was doubting Angela would ever call.  She was going to bitch to Hailee about how much of an asshole he was instead of talking to HIM about it.  Real cool.

Normally, he wouldn't have wanted to talk about the problem with anyone.  It was their problem, not Purr's, and it just wasn't his style.  Something about this woman, or maybe the way she asked, made him think otherwise, though.  "Don't worry about it," he said, and that might have been all, if not for her little voice trick.

"She goes off all night all the time, and I didn't press for answers all this fucking time, and I finally came clean and told her the total truth, and she won't bother to return the fucking favor.  I bet she's sleeping with some other asshole, but doesn't have the guts to come clean.  I could even deal with that if she'd just say that's what it is, but she keeps telling me we'll talk about it tomorrow, then wants to say I'm fucking drunk and can't function well enough to talk about it tonight," he explained, that basically being the issue.  He didn't have much more to say on it.  He WASN'T wasted, either.  He'd had maybe two drinks, and that was nothing for him.

Purezza laughed a little. "So angry," she chided. "Do you really think she's lying to you about seeing someone else?" At the way his temper seemed to explode, she doubted it. She had no idea who Angela was though, or what she did, or she could have guessed what her midnight madness brought. She plucked her name from his head, and would have, if she'd been human, choked on the smoke she'd just inhaled for the amount of startlement she'd just felt.

Arun? Of the Arun line?

Oh God, Purezza had struck GOLD.

It didn't really matter what Jared did now, she'd made up her mind. She was turning him, and then turning the lovesick fool loose on his Witch girlfriend. Then she'd sit back and watch the carnage candy with that cat - what was his name? Darren? She thought he needed more exposure to this side of life.

She might have thought it was funny, but he didn't.  Angela probably thought he was at some party having a blast, but he wasn't.  He was just about as pissed off and frustrated as she was, and he turned around suddenly to kick his tire just about as hard as he could.  It was the only part of the car that wouldn't either hurt him or leave a mark, so it was the only safe spot, and he was rational enough to know he didn't want to bust his car up.  He was WAY too frustrated not to hit something, though.

"I don't fucking know!  All I know is that she's running around all night long and told me she promised someone she wouldn't tell me!  What the fuck does that sound like to you?" he demanded.  If this girl had a better idea, he was all for it.  He wasn't accepting the 'I have to wash my hair' line or anything of that ilk.

"You're being ridiculous. That girl loves you more than life itself. You are petty and stupid and base, and you don't deserve a woman of her calibre." Purezza stood straight, now, walking towards him. She let her power seep into her voice, enjoying the human's reaction as he visably resisted her words, her poison; her auditory suicide.

"Take this cigarette. Take it," she commanded, holding the half-smoked cigarette out to Jared. She reveled in every second she could see him fighting. He was strong, she knew. But not... strong enough. She smiled brightly at him.

"Admit you were stupid. Admit you were wrong."

She folded her arms.

He stopped what he was doing, immediately, without hesitation, and frowned.  He heard what she said and should have told her to go to Hell, but for some reason, that had hit harder than it should have.  What did he care what this dumb bitch said?  She didn't know him, she didn't know Angela, and she sure as Hell didn't know what was going on enough to make a judgment call like that, but for some reason he was actually thinking about what she was saying.  He almost thought he believed it, but even just thinking for an instant that she might be right made him even more angry.  How dare she tell him all those things, even if they're true? 

"I don't want it," he snapped, but his eyes were inexplicably drawn back to the cigarette immediately after he told her that, like he couldn't take them off it.  Like he DID want it, but he knew he didn't.  He didn't want her nasty cigarette.  He didn't know where she'd been, and he had a half a pack in his car.  He could get his own, but for some reason, he still found himself reaching out to take it.  Something weird was going on, but it wasn't nearly so obvious as it was when she told him to admit he was stupid, and wrong.

That was where they had problems.

As far as Jared was concerned, he wasn't stupid OR wrong, and if he was, it was time to revert back to the first part.  He didn't ever admit when he was wrong.  If it happened, everyone just glossed over it.  He didn't apologize well, either.  Why should he?  Who had ever been willing to admit that they'd wronged him, or apologize?  He'd had one great big mess after another for a life, so why be a pansy and apologize or tell people what he was bad at?  He paraded around his best and/or favorite qualities, and the rest got shoved to the back.  He didn't want to admit any such thing.

"No."  He could refuse, but he felt his mouth growing dry, like something was wrong.  The words seemed to want to leap out of him, and he didn't understand that.  Even if he'd truly believed what she said, since it was leaking its way into his subconscious on a more subtle level even as he tried to resist the rest, he knew for a fact that he didn't think he was wrong or stupid.  Not those two.  What was going on?  "I have to go, I haven't had enough to drink for this shit."

He wanted to leave, but he still felt like saying what she told him to.  He swallowed, still finding it wrong.

Purezza walked towards him, arms comfortably folded as she spoke. Her pace was slow, languid. She had a strange half-smile that she had not had before, a sort of Mona Lisa countinence. Her eyes glimmered as the light crossed them, like eyeshine, and Purezza allowed the glamour to drop, giving her natural black eyes their place back.

"Say it. Say you're sorry. Admit it. You know Angela isn't cheating on you, just like you know several other facts about your life that won't ever change. But like a typical man, you have to go and fuck it all up by flying off the handle and saying things that do so much damage... so much damage that she won't even come rescue you from me."

"Do you know what happens to boys like you? They attract creatures like me. Creatures that see a good thing, and see someone chipping at it, hacking away mercilessly, because they simply can't begin to exist without maybe, just once, accepting things the way that they are and being happy. And we watch you ruin and corrupt the things in life that we can't even hope to posses."

She walked 'round him slowly like a vulture, holding his mind with her own to keep him in place. She didn't feel like allowing him running room. "Drop to your knees like the filth you are. Now." Purezza seemed to have tired of her game.

"I'm going to have you begging for your Witch girlfriend before I've even started. Put the cigarette out on your arm. Now."

It didn't occur to him until he saw her eyes change color that he might be in trouble, and by then, she was already talking again and it was too late.  The light bulb that turned on in his head had to be nearly visible, but he still didn't want to play along.  He clenched his jaw, not wanting to say anything, but her words were still getting through to him.  He hadn't known what was happening with Angela, and so there had been doubt there the entire time in his mind.  This woman with her magic voice was only strengthening the part that had believed in Angela when he didn't know what she was doing, the part that wanted to think that she cared and maybe even loved him, and worked at drowning out the cynical voice that wanted him to keep his distance before he set himself up for a painful mess.

Somehow, he was getting the impression that Angela wasn't going to be the one to fuck his world up.  Can't imagine where that came from.

He had to grab the car beside him as his knees tried to buckle, but he glared at her suddenly.  "Even if I say I'm sorry, why the fuck would I apologize to you?  If anyone deserves it, it's Angela, and she's not here," he snapped, and there, he'd said it.  He'd fucked up and lapsed in thought when Angela was called a witch, though.  Witch?  Was that like, bitch?  Was this psycho calling his girlfriend a bitch?  How fucking dare she?!

Annnd, there went the cigarette.  He was suddenly pressing into his arm, where it hurt like HELL and got a few strangled curses out of him as he also let go of the car and crashed to his knees.  That felt just about as good as the cigarette, and he cursed a little more rather than scream or make any other indication of pain, though he dropped the damn cigarette and clutched at his arm, his cursing getting just a little shrill from the multiple shots right in a row.

"How the FUCK are you doing that?"

"You'll find out soon enough," she said, with a voice full of promise that would sew nightmares into the minds of those looking on. She walked 'round him, trying to decide what she wanted precisely to do before she finished this. She drummed her fingertips together like Mr. Burns, thumbing through his mind for something painful, something that would break him. He seemed enough of a problem that she might not be able to really dig anything up, not anything that would bother him. She was slightly frustrated, and hit him in the face with the back of her hand in lieu of it. The blow likely would hurt quite a bit, considering she hit harder than Angela did (and that this was intentional).

"You're filth. Disgusting. You reek of emotion, despite your attempts to bottle them up. Your mere existence is offensive to my eyes. You should feel rotten inside, remorse for this malady that you are. The world would be a better place if you were never in it. Angela would be better if you were never in it."

She crouched down to him, and reached out, intending to grab him by his throat. "It's only a pity that anyone will mourn your passing at all. Fortunately for them, they won't have to. Instead, they'll have to lock their doors at night and hide themselves with relics, because you, my dear, are about to enter my world. Then maybe you'll see why I'm such a bitch."

She applied enough pressure to his throat to cut off the air for a few seconds, just to watch him squirm.

"You should be very afraid right now."