Awakened

Gabe woke up that night at sunset, and saw the Mera was still asleep. With a pang, he realized that the previous evening's events must've completely exhausted her. . .and the blood loss probably hadn't helped, either. For the he-didn't-know-how-many-th time, he swore at himself. It was stupid of him to have attacked her, to have hurt her. He'd feel bad for that forever.

Trying not to make any noise, he fumbled around the room, looking for the obligatory hotel pad of paper and pen. After a few minutes, he found it, stowed away in the drawer that held the Gideon Bible. Gabe made sure not to touch it as he fished out the paper and wrote his note.

Mera--gone out for food. Will be back. Do Not Leave!

He resisted the urge to draw a frowny face with fangs at the end of the message; he was worried she'd take it the wrong way. Quietly, he set the notepad down and left the room, closing the door with a silent snick.

The streets were bustling with people; it was still early enough that they were out shopping, socializing, or even working. Gabe liked it that way. With so many people. . .one wouldn't be missed. Not right away.

He thought back to the vampire who made him, and wished fervently that he were here. Everything was confusing. The further he got from Mera, the harder it was to remember what it was she'd told him to do.

There was one thing that he remembered perfectly, something that he had tried to tell her last night, but had given up on since she was so tired. He was Gabriel. Gabe was Gabriel. They were one and the same. To have believed otherwise was foolishness.

In the back of his head, there was a persistant, nagging voice that told him that wasn't true, that he wasn't Gabriel, that Gabriel was someone else, a demon. He silenced that voice. If they weren't the same. . .then why did he feel the way he did around his friend? Why did he want to protect her, keep her safe, do anything to keep her from crying?

The further away he got, the more tenuous his hold became. He could still feel Mera, faintly, at the back of his consciousness. . .but she was distant, sleeping. He tried to push her away. He was a hunter, and he had to do what he had to do. She didn't want to see that; she didn't understand, and he would protect her from it.

But he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

Even though it felt wrong.

He caught sight of a pretty girl walking down the street. She flipped her blonde hair behind her shoulder, walked confidently down the street. Gabe smiled; she was perfect.

That same nagging voice rose to the surface, a thought rising, unbidden, through his eagerness.

What am I doing?

Hunting.

With one, smooth motion, he stepped out in front of her, and flashed a dazzling smile. He lowered his sunglasses and caught her eye.

"Come with me."

It didn't take much pushing; she followed him into a nearby alley, practically clinging to him. Her will was weak. He would play his favorite game with her.

She would run. He would catch her. He would claim her before taking her. His voice came out smooth, unnaturally calm and charming.

"I know you're scared. . .but I'm going to let you go."

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After the hunt, he took her limp body and placed it behind the dumpster. He walked away, and as he did, the memories grew foggier, indistinct. He knew that he was out for something; he remembered the light dying in her eyes and sighed happily.

But. . .something else. A chocolate shake.

He stopped off at a small cafe, walked out a few minutes later with a cold paper cup, and headed back to the hotel, sated and happy to be coming home.