Daylight by Verbayne +Demonata-Freak (best large ereader .txt) 📕

Sitting in a booth at the coffee shop I stirred my coffee, adding some sugar to the toxic brew. Around me people stared, glares boring into me from the bravest, quick glances of unease from most. Ignoring the unwelcome atmosphere I rummaged in my jacket for something. Before I got a chance to pull out my book a man walked up to my table.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

My eyes lifted from the coffee to the man’s face. He was about fifty, hair peppered with age, eyes flat disks of earthen brown. Pulling out a small black book I set it on the table next to my coffee, one hand fanned over it.

“Tell you what,” my eyes flicked down to his name tag, “John. I’ll leave when my business is finished here.”

He looked shocked I had spoken like a sane person. I frowned at him, disappointed by his reaction. Clearing his throat John crossed his beefy arms over his chest. I raised an eyebrow. Intimidation is it?

Below that fine mask of anger I felt his fear. It rolled over my skin like a breeze of air, warm and alive but trembling and fleeting in power. Under that was something else, something not his. I had found what I wanted.

“I urge you to rethink-“I shoved a wad of cash in his apron pocket silencing him. “What’s this?”

“A tip for being so annoying. Too bad really, I would have been a daily customer.”

Sliding out of the booth I smiled at John, the café owner. He just blinked. Turning I let my gaze run over the crowd slowly, intimidating searching them for someone. They all stiffened, turning back to the food and drinks in front of them. All but one that was. From the far corner of the room one man didn’t shrink away from my devilish gaze. No he took it, stared right back at me, and flipped me off.

I felt a jolt of surprise run through me. I had just been given the middle finger by a human, Ballsy. Giggling at the man I waved. His face twisted into something stuck between disgusted and interested. Oh I fried his brain, poor baby.

Normally I wasn’t this cruel, but his little stunt had pushed my buttons and that energy I had been sensing disappeared with his confusion. Folding my arms over my chest I walked out of the café and out into the cold winter morning.Heels clicking along the shoveled sidewalk I let my eyes fall to the ground. I’m not a monster people, why can’t you see that?

Crossing my arms tighter I turned the corner to head home. I had spent all night tracking someone down only to come up empty handed. Then when I finally get a lead daylight has to come. I need some sources that won’t burst into flames at the very thought of sunlight, I grumbled to myself mentally.

As I pull on my black leather jacket I sigh, why does this hunger drive me so? My teeth chatter as I step out of my apartment and into the gentle breeze of the night. I can't feel the cold, none of my kind does but the pain in my stomach is growing fiercer by the hour, like a deadly beast skinning me from the inside.

I need to feed, a month ago I only consumed a little of the red liquid, I was almost caught by some dumb cops getting their noses in places they weren't wanted. Since then I've been trying to keep my head down. My tight white silk shirt sticks to my skin as I walk down the silent hall and over to the stairs. 

I dart my expert eyes left and right to make sure I don't have another soul watching me, I also sniff the air but the only blood I can get is from the ancient pensioners in the apartments beside me. My stomach demands food of me as I focus on the steep stairway below me. Grinning I quietly leap into the air and land roughly on my convers. Something tells me I'll be running tonight, so I didn't want to bother with some six inches. 

I stand smug as I lift myself of the ground and look behind me up at the tall staircase, "yeah, bitches!" I whisper to the night itself and set out for a Hunt. 

Even though its past midnight, the streets are alive with humans, or Mensen, ( Dutch for 'Humans') many Vampires call humans Mensen because the first ever blood larker actually came from Denmark, not your average Dracula but the true side behind our society. I smile but bite my lip as the smell of warm blood reaches my nose; my lust for the red liquid is increasing quicker than normal. 

I turn into a dark alley way and tilt my head to a sleeping homeless man. "Aren't you an ugly sod?" I say quietly as I perch my lips, staring at the beaten up bloke with hardly any teeth and a revolting stench.

For a Mensen this would be disgusting but for a highly developed nose like mine, it could bring tears to my eyes. Another thing I envy, but the super speed and strength is still pretty awesome! 

I walk over to the man and squat a few centimetres beside his neck. My gut growls with vicious excitement as I gently streak his soft, delicate neck. My fangs pierce through my gums, one centimetre in front of my old teeth, strangely once we are re-born we don't receive new teeth but we do gain MANY more. The old fashioned myth about Vampires only having two sharp fangs is pure bullshit. 

We actually have many sharp fangs at the bottom and top of our gums, they are not extremely thick but are out of bounds strong, they once let me chomp my way through a prison cell but that's another story. I breathe out a toxic gas that makes Mensen's unconscious for a couple of hours and drag him to the back of the alley. 

Once again I look left and right to make sure the ghost is well and defiantly clear, making sure my sharp ears and quick eyes don't detect an intruder. Confident I'm alone I hold the man's neck up to my face by his hair and sink my many razor sharp fangs into his soft buttery neck. The irony liquid fills into my mouth as he man squirms slightly.

I force myself to gulp the tangy warm solution and drag more out of his quickly dying body. Many think Vampires actually enjoy the taste of blood but, as simple Mensen's normally are, they are wrong. We think blood tastes as revolting as any other normal person do; we just need to consume it to survive. After so many years of gulping down the necessary liquid I still find it repulses me. 

As I feel the man's heartbeat fade I dump his corpse into a large bin beside me. As soon as the heart starts beating you stop drinking, many young Vampires have grown gravely ill or died over such stupidity, blood may not taste nice but it is addictive. Dead blood wouldn't kill a Vampire as old as me but it would make me weak and very sick.

I look up at the shinning moon and quickly hurry out of the alley, whipping any remaining drops of blood from my rose red lips. I rush into the bar across the street and take a seat in front of the bar man. I quickly glance over my clothes, not one dropped spilt down me, mother would be so proud. 

The sexy bar man grins at me and eyes me up and down, "what can I get ya', gorgeous?" He winks at me and leans against the top of the bar.

"A bolt white whiskey . . . and your phone number if that's going too," I purr as I lean closer to him.
He chuckles, "commin' right up," I fix my dark red hair and brush any of the cold winters night of my clothes; I'm game for a little fun tonight. 

I lean over the bar and check out the bar tenders ass, and that's defiantly fun. A tall skinny man takes a seat next to me, keeping his hood up and his head down. "I heard you were looking for me," his venom like voice stings. 

"Show me your wrist," I demand as I hold out mine. 

He quickly shoves his arm into my hand; I check his wrist and smile sheepishly. They have been cut twice, a mark of a Vampire. Vampires have to transfer some of their blood into their chosen humans body, the way they do this is by drinking you until the point of death from two cuts in your wrist then they cut their own wrist and hold it to your as the blood a Vampire is pulled into your body. Once the blood touches yours you have forever left humanity behind and walked into the shadows of the Nightcreepers. I quickly show him my own cut wrists and he settles down. 

"Welcome, sister, what purpose do you have with calling me here?" His crackly voice surprisingly gently asks. 

I brush my fingers delicately over left eye to my right, a sign of respect or welcome to a fellow Vampire. "Brother, I need your help finding someone . . . "

Sitting in the dark corner of the bar I sighed. Instead of going home I ended up tracking down the person with the dark aura from the café once night fell. Stirring my long island iced tea my eyes darted from the drink to the pair sitting at the bar. 

“Brother, I need your help finding someone…”

A small group of barely legal humans walked by cutting off his response. Leaning back I stared at the girl asking for his help. She was tall, curvy, and dangerous. She was one of them. Pushing some stray strands of hair back out of my face I let my eyes see her. The dark light interior of the bar turned even darker as my powers took over.

It was one of the perks of being a daywalker that I liked, I saw a person’s true self and was still able to go to the beach.