Night's Omen

It had been a bad day.

bad /bad/ adj. 1. not good in any manner or degree.  2. having a wicked or evil character; morally reprehensible.  3. of poor or inferior quality; defective; deficient 4. involving touching something with a lot of graphically violent images and trauma-induced emotions stored up for too little money, then shooting up to get away from it all only to find that you should have waited longer to do so.

Yeah, that last one was about it.  He'd shot up way too soon, and couldn't stand to be where he was.  That was why he'd started on his way home, weaving and wide-eyed because nothing was really working out right for his eyes and brain, and it might have occurred to him if he had more ability to think that he might be lost.  As it was, he wasn't even sure if he remembered where he was going, but it wasn't where he was, and that was what was important. 

Until he really just couldn't do it, anymore.  Where was he even going?  What was safe?  Nothing was safe!  He shouldn't be out here, shouldn't be out amongst these people with all of their pain and evil surrounding them.  He needed to be gone, hidden away from it all, before someone touched him. 

He hated being touched.  Hated it, and still, people touched him.  How long until someone did it this time?  Someone passing by got a little too close, and he jerked away as though he'd been burned without them even running into him, and he weaved way more than he wanted to, so he knocked his shoulder off of the building he was closest to.  Fortunately, there was clothing between his skin and the wall, though he still got a 'taste' of what was there to be seen, in a sudden shock of feeling and emotion, but it wasn't as all-encompassing as skin contact.  It caused him to jerk away from the wall in the same manner, however, and if he didn't catch himself, he was going to end up continuing in that fashion until he hit the pavement. 

Fuck. It had been a really bad day. Caleb scuffed his shoes furiously on the sidewalk as he headed away from his brother Aaron's apartment. He had been an idiot to think that he would feel any better by coming here. He had just been so freaked out about the incident with that freaky girl earlier in the week... He cringed every time he thought about it, which was often. He touched his neck, a nervous tic he's acquired recently. He did not know what had possessed him to tell his brother that he thought he'd been bitten by a...vampire. Once the nightmares had begun, dark scenarios that he could scarecly remember, he had needed to tell someone so badly about what had happened. Now he wished he had kept the experience to himself.

He and Aaron were close; Caleb visited him, or else Aaron came home to Ramsa, at least once a week, just to hang out. But they were different. Where Caleb was quiet, nervous, shy--weird, in Aaron's terms--Aaron was "normal", an easy-going guy with lots of friends and tons of stuff going on in his life. The main thing Aaron had always given Caleb a hard time about was the weird dreams, the frequent nightmares, the odd thoughts that popped into Caleb's head. He's been prone to nightmares, depression and the like since he was very young.

He probably thinks I'm seriously losing it. Caleb hated the idea that Aaron might think less of him now.

Brows furrowed, recalling for the millionth time the flat look in the girl's eyes as she's leaned towards him, Caleb looked up just in time to avoid a head-on collision with a dazed-looking, staggering man. He wasn't quick enough to step completely out of the way; instead his shoulder slammed into the man's, knocking him flat out on the ground. The man looked stunned, dizzy, staring up at him.

"Oh, man!" Caleb turned bright red. He immediately grabbed the guy's wrist and pulled him up. "I'm really sorry, are you okay?"

The kid running into him was bad enough.  Really, it was, and he was fine with not having any further contact.  It sent a whole stream of images through him, things he didn't want to know any more than anything else he got, and that was enough. 

Apparently, what was enough for him wasn't enough for the universe.

Not only did he impact the pavement, which was almost a relief because so many people had walked it since it came into existence that it was just a massive headache with no specific thoughts and images behind it (unless he focused, which he wouldn't dare right then), and he might have been able to pull himself together a little from his position on the sidewalk. 

Oh, wait.  Nevermind.

The kid touched him.  Not only touched him, but gripped his bare wrist between the gloves he wore and the long sleeves of his shirt, and pulled him to his feet.  Bad move, friend.  Bad move.

Caleb.  That was the kid's name, and he knew that because he could feel the uncertainty and upset that had been talking to his brother, could see the concern on the other kid's face when he said his brother's name, and Luke knew that was who this was.  Caleb.  And Caleb was afraid, confused, upset by the fact that...

He could feel it like it was his own, the brief pleasure of being bitten by the female vampire, the pride at being asked out for a drink by her, and the betrayal and fear over being attacked.  The fear that she'd come back, while he simultaneously craved answers.  Answers.  Why did everyone except Luke want answers?  He had to be the only person on the damn planet who didn't go looking for questions to in turn go looking for answers to. 

"FUCK.  Don't touch me, don't TOUCH me!" he shouted, his usually deep, almost raspy voice pulling off the volume just fine as he tried to pull away from the kid, and he didn't do too well with that, but he had to try to stop it.  "She's a vampire, Caleb, a fucking vampire, God, you shouldn't have touched me, I didn't want to KNOW!"

Most of it wouldn't make sense to anyone passing by, and he wouldn't have normally blurted anything like that, but he was currently a wreck, and not his usual self because of the drugs.  He really needed to lay off of those. 

"Know? Know?" Caleb dropped the man's wrist and backed away. Why, why, why did all the humiliating things happen to him? His face was on fire, but he was chilled all over. "H-how do you know my name and--and--" He shook his head, trying to rid it of this strange sensation that he couldn't describe... It was like his brain was exposed for a minute. His face burned.  How the hell... He shook his head again, mind seizing on one word.

Vampire.

"How did you know about her?" he demanded of the man he'd run into, who was pale, shaking, trying to lean against a nearby building without actually touching it. "How did you know?" He wanted to reach out and touch the guy again, for some reason, as though touching him would answer his question. He put his hand out but managed to stop himself. The man flinched and took a deep breath, like he was going to start yelling again.

A flash of visual thought came to him--the silver spark of a needle. That was when he looked down and saw that he was standing on the man's shadow. Quickly he scrambled off it, but now he knew what was wrong with the man. He was tripping on something. He could be dangerous. But Caleb stuffed his apprehension down.

"Look, um...sir," he said, moving closer again but being careful to keep off of the shadow, "I...I have to know... I mean... How did you know? Were--were you there?" His hand lifted of his own accord again, hovered. Why, when someone told him not to do something, did he always want to do it more?  "Did you...did you see her? Do you know her? You have to tell me." He knew how anxious, how high and young, his voice was.