Accounts of Ashlen, October 2017.
'OK, that's enough, now let go.' I urge myself as the pulse continues to reel me into the guy like a carp on a fishing line. 'Well just a little more won't hurt.'
'Nope! No! We're done!' I argue with myself and force my eyes open. Closing them seems to make this more difficult, it's like I'm floating away in a dream filled with fantastic sensations.
As much as I want to stop, I don't want to stop. It's so warm and soothing, but at the same time exhilarating! I'm greedy, hungry for all of him, all of his blood, all of his rampant thumping heart!
'He was probably up to no good. I mean honestly, who is up to anything good at this time of night.' I justify smothering my face in the crook of his neck. I deeply inhale his exalted fragrance as the angelic drink pours down my throat like the perfect cup of hot chocolate on a snowy December.
His knees buckle and I gently lower us to the floor. A trickle escapes from the corner of mouth. I press my lips tighter to his flesh and continue extracting from his weakening pulse.
'Seriously, stop!' I shout in my head as his heart stutters. What an exciting thought, escorting his organs to a halt. To drink every beat and feel it flow all throughout. Why? Why is this still so hard!
'Help me, Sam.'
I find myself wishing Sam were here. I always feel more in control when he's close by, stronger and braver. Even when everything is so wrong, when he's next to me, I know it will be alright.
The image of Sam motivates my sense of self. I will not let my beast rule my actions. I am me, I want to stay me. The true me.
My head jerks backwards as I vigorously remove myself from the young man. My chin is dripping and my mouth is drenched in blood as I stagger far away from him in a fit. I don't look back.
His heart is screaming for me to finish the job. The odor of pure temptation glissading toward me, racing me. 'I am Ashlen Kane and I am true to me!' I repeat in my head and my legs obey my inward cry, carrying the rest of me far away from the scene.
I slow my pace as my brain starts to clear. I feel like myself again, like the real Ashlen and not Ashlen the blood glutton.
I lift my face to the sky and breath in the cold October atmosphere. Yes, that's helping a lot. It would help more if I didn't have this blood all over my face. I wipe the excess from my mouth and chin, licking it unapologetically from my cupped palm. It's still so sweet, I wish I there was more.
"My, you are a bit of a mess. Did you leave them looking the same way?"
I glare into space, mopping up the last bit with my tongue as Juniper materializes from the shadows. Her expression resolute in my peripheral vision.
"Better a mess than dead," I chide, lowering one palm licked completely clean.
"Any bite you've made will heal expeditiously enough. However, sealing the wound with your tongue makes for a more efficient procedure, it will eliminate suspicion."
Well, I wasn't really thinking about all that. The priority was to leave him still breathing but I'm not going to tell her that. I won't admit how tormented I am with the temptation to kill, not even going to acknowledge it.
Something shiny catches my eye as I turn to her. An angular silver object reflects the light in June's hand. She's holding a blade.
"A man was assaulted, stabbed multiple times with his own weapon," she informs me like a detective, likely noticing my reaction to the switchblade.
"He came to a sticky end, just as he desired," she dishes her words like some kind of sick joke but neither of us laugh, leaving an uncomfortable silence to stagnate.
She continues her chatter, "And I thought I was the one dawdling," she chuckles slightly, "You must like toying with your prey."
I glower at her, "I don't toy with people."
I wasn't messing with him, I was mentally preparing myself so I didn't take his life. His natural aroma was unfortunately quite enticing. Would I ever intentionally screw around with someone I planned to bite? The thought is surprisingly appealing which also makes it very nerve wracking.
She's at my side, a slight simper infecting the corners of her mouth, "You think too much, little dove."
"And you don't think enough," I rebuke thoughtlessly.
Jeez, why am I so cranky? This night has been a bumpy roller coaster, but I shouldn't be such a jerk.
She chortles walking away, either amused or completely unaffected by my rudeness. That's one quality I can appreciate about June, she's not easily offended.
"Join me on a nightly nature walk? To clear your ailing thoughts," her hair swishes to the side like silken sheet drying on a laundry line. The rosy tilt of her lips couples with a relaxed eye from her visible profile. Her arm gracefully gestures to me as a dancer would on stage.
You know, that doesn't sound so bad. I nod and catch up trotting beside her. I examine pure contentment overtake her features as I meet her side.
We head for the trail entrance as I study the leaves of trees threatening to brown for fall. I'm entranced with the soft orange glow from a few high windows and the twinkle of street lights shimmering like diamonds. The rays jab in pastel oil spill spikes in a slow rotation, spinning like cogs.
I scan June looking so angelic against the deep greens and ripe yellows of the abundant jungle of trees. Even battered and dirty she's as captivating as an oil painting on canvas.
No one would suspect her of murder, not this radiant, lovely vision. But in truth, she's probably slaughtered enough people to fill a cemetery. She killed one right in front of me and it's heavily implied she just killed another. Not to mention more potential murders I don't know about scattered throughout the week.
Look at me, associating and, in a weird way, befriending a vicious killer. And I'm not too far off from mirroring just that. The passing days aren't much easier. I know what to expect from the hunger but it's still awful. How long? How much longer before I can't stand it anymore?
My lips and forehead pull so tightly it should cause a migraine.
I always wanted an adventure, an exciting life and purpose. Guess I should be more careful what I wish for.
I start to giggle. Uncontrollably. My head is thrown back seemingly on its own before I can stifle the sound behind my hand. Full blown laughter shreds the peaceful quiet to ribbons. I'm starting to crack, I'm going crazy.
My body shakes as I wrap my arms around my stomach, leaning over in a fit. I should have silenced my mad mawing when I had the chance. I'm busting up so hard I nearly collapse to the ground and roll on my side. You'd think I just heard the most hilarious thing in the world but the action isn't provoked by humor.
I sputter a cough from my belly laugh thinking I've got it out of my system only to double over. My surroundings are shrinking around me, I don't know what is up and what is down. I'm practically howling at the moon and it's not even full. My vision is blurry from funny tears as I gag like a lunatic.
"Oh, oh man! Ah," I wipe the tears from my eyes before yelling like a delirious nut job, "We're a couple of immortal mosquitoes disguised as women! Bar the windows tonight! Lock up your sons and daughters cause I'm gonna EAT 'UM!"
I choke on more crude laughter and I feel June's gaze upon my nonsensical spectacle as spiral like an escaped asylum patient. I stumble over and roll onto a bench being attacked by the overgrown shrubs. The robin's egg paint is peeling in chunks, more flakes away as I crash land on the seat.
I'm a bit frightened that I may never be able to stop the deranged sounds from spurting out but I finally begin to calm down.
I sling my arm over my forehead with a loud exhale. I gaze into smoky clouds wishing to be sucked into them, taken far away from the worry, temptation and madness.
"I can't believe I died so young. One very stupid decision and now I'm dead… But I also might live forever," I muse.
I glance at June who is thoughtfully watching me, to my surprise she holds no trace of judgment from my hysterical meltdown.
I fully compose myself before asking, "Hey, does the thought of living forever scare you?"
"Not necessarily."
"What about dying?"
"No."
I sit up and stare straight into her serene eyes. This isn't just some tough act, she's not bluffing, "Are you afraid of anything?"
"Fear is generally bred by the unknown. There was a time I was frightened by much of the unknown, but now I am, in truth... excited by it," her cheek rises with the sideways smirk as her head tilts, "That is to say, I'm not immune to fear. But I don't believe I can properly convey it."
There's something refreshing about her current demeanor, her voice is warm like silk and honey.
I encourage her simply, "Try."
Her pale face peers in the direction of the clouded moon and fingers gently coil at her chest as her brows strain in contemplation. She actually looks vulnerable and open. Human.
"I am disquieted most by what you'd call inevitability," her hand rises away from her chest in a motion of a blooming flower, "Fate."
Those ice walls are coming down, I'm glimpsing on something brilliant and sorrowful. I want to know this rare side of her.
"And what is your fate, Juniper?"
The aura of unspeakable secrets and melancholic beauty fades like a star at sunrise. Still hovering in the sky but hidden in plain sight. She's not going to share her thoughts on this ominous fate of her's.
Her mouth quirks into a soft wistful smile and she closes her eyes.
All I can do is stare as she slowly peeks back at me. Her lids are hooded and her irises sparkle beneath the thick lashes.
I watch her milky hand extend to me in offering.
I take it and she helps me to my feet. Her gaze wanders from my head to my toes then back in a passive fluidity. The back of her hand caresses my upper arm, then lightly thumbs the corner of my mouth for a second or two. Her intense blue eyes are locked in mine as she fingers brush like feathers and I feel utterly breathless.
If I reach out I may be able to dip into her mind. We're a paper thin layer away from knowing each other's secrets. She leaves me wanting. Being connected to her in this way, all the answers seem to be within my grasp. Why don't I just take it?
She may claim to feel fear, but she doesn't experience it in the way I do, the way most do. I wonder what it's like to be fearless.
She gracefully steps ahead leading us to the trail, I follow after her pondering and searching our connection. Why are we drawn to each other? I've never met someone so different from myself but at the same time a person that understands me so well. It's bizarre, oxymoronic. I guess it can't be explained.
My footsteps are so light it's alarming. I can hear the parade of leaves rustle under my toes but I doubt any human could. June's steps are even quieter than mine.
The wind whispers against the large trunks as we descend deeper into the forest. The branches arch over the dirt trial as if attempting to swallow and grow over the gap. Limbs on each side reaching for the other creating an organic tunnel. Trees never seemed so ancient and alive, almost conniving and plotting as they take over inch by inch.
We detour off the path meandering toward the cabin when a snap assaults my ears and a mixture of unusual and unknown smells flood my nostrils.
I freeze on guard and look about, trying to locate the sudden change. I smell blood, animal blood, and the heat of something alive. A lesser animal and something that I've never smelled before. The noises are muffled, snapping twigs and tearing rubber pared with a subtle grunting and panting.
"Oh?" June purrs, pursuing the scent and ruckus without another word.
"Hey, hold up," I hiss through my teeth as the words get trapped in my throat. I have a horrible feeling about this.
I tiptoe after June hurriedly not wanting to be left behind and all alone with this unknown thing lurking in the woods.