Dependance

Vincent gazed down to the deceased, trills of satisfaction tingling down his spine and quelling his anger. Such a pitiful waste of oxygen did not deserve to live…Then a series of wet snuffles met his ears and the male turned around, fearing that Lorna was hurt. She was pressed against the corner of the alley, staring at the man with watery eyes, not blinking. Her breathing patterns were working over time, the air that came in grating on her vocal chords and creating a horrible rasping sound. Lorna was becoming hysterical. In his rage, he had forgotten just who he was with, he had forgotten Lorna was a new acquaintance who did not know of his past life and what he had done to some people. She was, like any other normal human being, upset at this show of slaughter. Vincent looked to the pavement in guilt.

“Y-you…Y-y-you,” she began to stutter and gasp, often taking huge wheezing breaths so she could circulate her blood at a healthy rate.

Vincent realized that he was now in the real world, and he could not take his time with this or keep the ones he killed because of authorities. Grabbing the scruff of the hobo’s neck, the male dragged him to a dumpster -hearing Lorna’s pathetic childlike whimpers of protest. Vincent opened the lid to the dumpster and hauled the guy into it. He then proceeded by stepping in front of Lorna and kneeling down. His throat worked laboriously to string together the amount of words that he wanted to say.

“Sorry…” Was the only thing he found suitable for the moment. He offered his hand out to her, and a flinch of her entire body met his eye. She was afraid of him? He then added to his apology, “I have…no intention of …hurting you, Lorna.”

The girl’s fear filled eyes travelled up to meet his so see guilt swimming openly in his grey orb. No, he did not have any intention of hurting her.

“Why…?” Lorna chocked out.

“H-he hurt you…” Said Vincent in his hoarse deep voice.

“But still…you killed him. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Vincent remained silent for a long while.

“There…a-are things I…need to tell you.” He said finally. Holding his hand again for her, he hauled her up to her feet and escorted her to the car; but not before picking up the bag of bagels and soft drinks that were dropped.

Once inside the vehicle, Vincent immediately ripped off some of the material of the seat cover (leaving a cloud of fluff poking from over his shoulder) and gently wiped at Lorna’s crimson neck and clavicle, cleaning the wound; he was intent on making sure her wound did not develop a infection, also hoping this gesture would reassure her about him not wanting to hurt her.

Lorna seemed a little stiff, somewhat surprised by his actions, but otherwise submissive.

Their was a trail of the fluid that oozed down into the front of her shirt and Vincent was suddenly caught, like a deer in the headlights. He looked to where the trail led. The sweet creamy skin had been tainted by the sinister blood, meandering in a teasing manner. The male felt a shiver go down his spine. He suddenly held the material under Lorna’s nose as he looked away, mystified by his odd reaction.

Lorna caught on and bluntly reached down into her shirt with the material, a little too out of her head to be bothered with modesty. Once finished, she threw the cloth into the back in a lazy and tired manner.

“So what do you want to tell me?” She whispered. He started to car and prepared his vocal chords.

For the next hour, Vincent talked in a strained manner, of his past and ‘dealings’ with people. About what his brother had told him to do. About everything and anything dealing with him. Lorna remained disturbingly silent, not saying anything apart from prompting words such as ‘go on’, ‘and?’, etc.

It was like juggling emotions above her head in a messy circus show. So many things ran through her mind so was unable to keep hold of; they flittered by her temples naggingly and moving on to the next.

First and foremost, she was shocked. He had killed God knows how many and -as displayed- did not seem to have trouble repeating these sinful acts. Lives, lives full of dreams, hopes, pasts and futures, snuffed out like candles. It sent a freight-train of terror running through the girl.

Then of course came the fear. If he could kill and slay so damned easily what was keeping her alive in these next few hours now she knew his secret. But she suppose that was irrational. Lorna had peered into the depth of his eye and found a true apology glimmering there.

For some odd reason she also felt gratitude. For a mere cut on the neck he had literally gone out his way when it came to her defence. So much so he had killed another man; and although that was the wrong thing, it made Lorna sort of feel thankful, in a sickening way.

Leading on from that, the girl had always liked the idea of a Knight In Shining Armour. But not so shiny…more corrupt and dark. Sweet, quiet, shy…Strong, protective, capable of defending himself. All these qualities linked together in the being that was Vincent. And Lorna liked that.

“I’m not going to condemn for what you’ve done. I understand that was just the life you lived and what brother told you to do. I was just…shocked, for lack of a better word.” Lorna explained carefully. Vincent nodded, happy that the female was quick (well quicker than expected) to accept what he had told her. His throat felt soar and dry, so he took a sip at the soda in his hands - the other hand being on the wheel of the truck. If he remembered correctly, then he had not had fizzy drinks since he was much younger.

“There’s a city ahead.”