A History of Violence

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A History of Violence

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A History of Violence by Amy Strauch

For ten years Angela Griffen as been a woman without a past except the knowledge that she'd done something awful that caused her memory loss. Despite the nightmares, she's gotten through the worst of the self doubt and is now living a normal life. That is until the hunger returns. She discovers she's a vampire without self control. The next morning one of her co-workers is found murdered and she is suspect number one.

"Why didn't you tell me that Sophie was due for meds at 5 yesterday? Dr. Allen exploded when she reviewed Sophie's chart this morning." Linda stands in front of the time clock with her arms crossed with one foot tapping impatiently on the tile floor. It wasn't my fault, I got off at 3:30 and wasn't there for the evening medications. Linda and I have been at odds since I was hired seven years ago. She's incredibly jealous about my degree. In the beginning it wasn’t so bad, I was newly out of college with very little real world experience. Now I have experience and a degree and it really irks her terribly. Yet this is out of character for her.

"You've been here longer than I have and I'd already counted out her pills that Dr. Allen prescribed for her. I left the pills sitting on her chart. If we could do rounds more than once a month then this wouldn't be such a problem. And Dr. Allen didn't say anything to me when I walked in other than Good Morning Angela." Linda's face was bright red as she clinched her fists, turned on her heals and stormed into the dog kennel slamming the door behind her.

I take a deep sigh and continue to take off my jacket and clock in. I actually got a full eight hours of sleep last night; no nightmares and I woke up in a very good mood. I'm determined to not to let anybody else’s bad temper to ruin my day. I don't sleep so well at night and I haven't slept much in the last ten years. Ten years ago I was in an accident and lost all of my memories. Nobody knew who I was or where I lived. I spent years re-learning everything that I'd lost. I learned everything from simple math to world history. All I new was the basics; speech, walking, reading, etc. I do remember something from the first day they'd found me wandering the streets covered with blood, my blood. Nobody knew how I'd got shot in the head or how I had survived. The police had posted my picture in all the local newspapers and TV stations trying to find somebody who knew me. No one came forward. Am I from somewhere else?

Once I got my life back together minus the memories I went to college and got a degree in animal science then went to work as a veterinary technician. I'm very good at what I do but I've since realized I have a really short temper. And I've begun to have the most disturbing memories. They were truly horrible memories of killing, maiming and enjoying it. These memories tend to come while I'm sleeping and I wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes I take at least 6 showers a night. Sleep deprivation is not helping my attitude at work either.

I review the appointments scheduled for today; I have surgical assistant duties for today. As soon as the patients arrive, we'll get started on them. Dr. Dillon Jacobs is in the exam room looking at a walk-in vomiting puppy with Patty. I really hope its not another parvo case. It's not very fun cleaning up a vomiting / diarrhea dog every 20 minutes. Dr. Dillon is the only guy in the office and he's the owner. He's really nice and it takes a lot to piss him off but when you do, he tends to put his foot through the door. Literally. His wife Sally says he swore a lot before they moved here five years ago but he's trying. Yup, I must say I fit in pretty well here. We all have easy to push buttons. We have our good times as well. Dr. Dillon and I are very good at practical jokes. I should come up with something for Linda tomorrow; maybe give her pills but no dog.

Patty is another one of our technicians and she and I are best friends. The fact that I have horrible dreams about killing people doesn't bother her much. She once told me that if Linda was in her face as much as she is in mine then she'd be dreaming about killing people to. I guess that's why she convinced me to join her Pilates class after work. It's been a wonderful stress reliever as well as giving me an excellent body. She’s also invited me to go out and ride horses with her but I haven’t taken her up on her offer yet.

Once Dr. Jacobs realized I'd arrived he asked me to grab the parvo test kit and to come collect a stool sample from the puppy. It takes 8 minutes for the test to confirm what our noses have already told us was true. We all hate parvo cases. Every tech or assistant that talks on the message boards on the Internet hates parvo cases. Dr. Dillon says they’re not as bad as when the disease first came out why you’d get 5-20 a week rather than that many in a years time. It’s still disgusting cleaning up pile after pile of parvo reeking glop for days on end. I’m so happy they created the vaccine.

After admitting and medicating the puppy, we continue with the cat spay. Dr. Jacobs is a very adept surgeon but still likes to do the simple surgeries as well. While he does his surgeon thing, I monitor the cat, give Dr. Jacobs the suture he asks for, set up for the dental and growth removal that comes up next for a wonderful cocker spaniel named D'ogie.

Sophie's owner came to pick her up at 10:30. And that's when all hell broke loose. I was watching D'ogie go to sleep for his surgery when Debra our receptionist asked me to explain Sophie's medications to Mrs. Williams. Debra said she'd watch D'ogie until I finished. While I was explaining that Sophie needs her pills twice a day with out food and how to give Sophie her pills, Dr. Allen walks into the surgery room to grab the otoscope that Dr. Jacobs had left in there and starts screaming Code Blue. I apologized to Mrs. Williams as I rushed to see what the trouble was. I walked into the surgery room to find Dr. Allen doing chest compressions and Linda doing artificial respirations on D'ogie, Debra standing in the corner with tears streaking her mascara.

Debra explained to her, through a torrent of tears streaking her mascara, that she needed me to explain Sophie's medications to her owner. Dr. Allen began ranting at the top of her lungs at that point; loud enough for the entire clinic, including a few clients, to hear. In the kennel we hear all the dogs starting barking and banging on their cage doors and the cats are hissing and yowling. Mrs. Williams’s infant daughter began screaming at the top of her lungs. I wonder if anybody is watching the cage web cams on the internet.

Having Debra watch a patient while you were out of the surgery room for two minutes isn't an uncommon occurrence; we'd done it hundreds of times without any problems. But today when both Linda and Dr. Allen are on edge do we get an anesthetized patient that decides to quit breathing. Once D'ogie started breathing again, both Linda and Dr. Allen corner Debra and me in the hallway. And all of their pet peeves came flying at me at warp speed. Debra strikes a tearful rabbit pose that is so uncharacteristic of her. She handles the worst of the irate clients on the craziest days and not flinch but today, she is acting like a teenage girl with a raging case of PMS. At first I was shocked. Nobody had ever told us we were doing these things wrong. Then it occurred to me, I wasn't at fault and Debra wasn't at fault and who is watching D'ogie while they are yelling and screaming at us? When I realized this, I became very angry. So angry I could barely speak. I couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn’t get a word in because they wouldn't shut up. Beside me Debra wipes away her tears and straightens her posture. I wanted to grab them by the neck and twist sharply. I wanted it so badly I reached for Dr. Allen and Deb does the same. A terrible pounding in my head threatened to make my head explode. My fingers touch her neck and I force myself to pull back and I tear past them and run out the back door. Again Deb does the same.

Once outside the sunlight blinds me. That's odd, the sky is supposed to be overcast today but it feels like a hot day in July, not the first of February. I quickly return inside and into the dark room. Debra continues out to her car. She soon squeals out of the parking lot and into traffic where cars begin honking at her.

My heart pounds in my chest and even in the pitch-blackness that I stand in, I don't need the safelight to see the x-ray unit and processor. The room looks like the world does at night during a full moon only brighter. Objects in shades of gray, the closer to white they are, the brighter gray they are. Much like looking at a black and white television. I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to slow my heart rate. My heart keeps pounding in my chest then suddenly stops. Oh Crap. That’s not possible. I check my neck and wrist for a pulse. Nothing. I hold my breath expecting the urge to breath like when you’re under water. Nothing happens. *beep*. Nobody but vampires live without a heartbeat. I then begin to hear heartbeats, many of them. There are many heartbeats in the rooms surrounding me some as steady as a clock and another sounds like a washing machine. That must be Bob. Bob has a heart murmur. This could be handy during surgery; I won't need a stethoscope anymore to count a heart rate. There are two that are racing; I can only guess them to be Linda and Dr. Allen. I smell them all as well. At this point in time I can't say which is which but some smells make my mouth water, other smells are revolting. There is one smell that is familiar. I smell my arm and then I sniff the air again. Yes, it smells like me but different and it's coming closer.

I hear a knock on the door. "Angela? Are you alright?" It's Dr. Jacobs. Great, just what I need. Why can't they leave me alone? I don't know what’s wrong with me. And if I open this door right now then I don't know what will happen.

One of the dreams that I’ve been having includes Dr. Jacobs. I am a vampire and I can't hold back any longer. I try running for the river south of town but I’ve only gotten to the railroad track and Dr. Jacobs is they’re talking to me. His voice is soothing, trying to keep me from running. I hide and savor the sweet lust for the kill, trying to ignore the soft voice calling my name. I haven't killed him yet but if he keeps getting closer, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself. His heart pounds in my brain and I have this desire to see blood all over him. No, I can't kill him. He's been too nice to me and he doesn't deserve to have his life ended so abruptly. "Stay away" I yell. The new moon overhead hides him in shadow yet I can still see him and his red pulsing arteries. The next thing he says sends shockwaves through my brain.

"I know what you are. I know you are hungry, I can feel your hunger. It's triggered by your emotions Angela and you haven’t fed in far too long."

*beep*! This can't be happening. "Don't you think I already figured that out? What the *beep* am I?" I'm supposed to be human; I've lived as a human for ten years. I can't be anything else. I don't drink blood, don't hunt humans and the thought of eating raw meat is revolting; except for the moment. Heck, I'm a vegetarian and don't eat meat period. There are vampires out there, werewolves too. Even one of our local celebrities is a vampire. Alexander Roberts, the city Attorney is a vampire and has been for centuries; a vampire, not the city attorney. I can't be a werewolf, wouldn't I have changed? *beep* I'm so hungry.

"Let me in and I'll tell you. We are similar, you and I." Dr. Dillon says.

"No. The light hurts. Go away."

"Oh, you didn't go outside did you? I'm sorry, I thought you knew, but of course you didn't know. The counsel asked me to take you when you applied to work here. They were worried about what you would do when the hunger finally hit you. I guess it's a good thing I decided not to take off of work today." He chuckles. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help when your hunger hit. I was out getting donuts.

I stood up and slowly opened the door, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into the dark.

"Quit rambling and start talking. I have amnesia remember. Who am I?"

"A vampire who...” What did he say? I'm a vampire? At that my knees seemed to loose function again and I find myself on the floor. I can't be a vampire. I've never met a vampire before at least that I can recall.

"No. I'm a vegetarian. Wait. You're a vampire?" Did he just read my mind? There was a book I read a few years back and they had a name for that. I think they called it telepathy. No, that’s not possible.

"It's really not so bad."

"It's disgusting. I can't be a vampire."

"Then how do you explain this?" A blood donor bag lands on my lap. The smell coming from the bag is like nothing I've ever known but I react to it like it is water and I just crossed a desert. I reach for it and before I realize what is going on, I have the bag in my mouth and the red liquid is flowing across my tongue and I'm swallowing a fast as I can. I can't stop until the bag is empty. "Tastes better than a bowl full of strawberries doesn't it." I glare at him. Mostly I’m angry at myself for not being able to resist.

"How did I get to be this way? Why am I a vampire?"

"Either one of two ways but I'm afraid that is something only your maker would know since you've lost your memory. As for how you lost your memories, that is a matter of vampire public record. You lost control and a policeman shot you in the head with silver. They never expected you to live and when you woke up with no knowledge of what you'd done they let you live. They still haven't figured out why your heart started beating again. Some of them thought that if you could live like a human then maybe you wouldn't remember about being a vampire. Many others and myself knew that wasn't so. Frankly, I'm surprised you made it ten years. I'd expected six months or less. Alexander will be pleased to know his bet was correct." They placed bets on me? Again a spark of anger brought up the hunger.

"Why was I shot in the head?" I tried to speak but something in my mouth was different. My tongue is normal, the jawbones haven't changed and then I realize that I have fangs protruding from my upper jaw right where short eyeteeth should be. In dogs and cats we call them carnasal teeth or canines. I look to Dillon’s face and see his version of what I might look like. Those silver gray eyes in Dillon’s human face with a slightly sloping brow, deep set eyes, long slender nose and a narrow jaw almost make him look like a stranger, not someone I've worked for the last 5 years. Behind his lips are his pair of sharp fangs ideal for puncturing a vein, much like a hypodermic needle.

He chuckles, "It's a little odd trying to speak with the fangs but you'll get used to it.” His face gets more serious. “We don't know why but you went on a killing spree. You killed nearly a dozen people a night and had all the humans in a panic. The night you lost your memories, you'd managed to catch an undercover cop. Before he died, he shot you in the head."

"Vampires are immortal right?"

"For the most part. It takes a hell of a lot to kill us but it does happen."

"Wouldn't I have healed fully by now?"

"Perhaps, if Detective Ford hadn't been a superstitious character. He wouldn't have melted down his wife's silver utensils and made them into bullets. The reason you haven't regained your memories is because they never removed the bullet. They wanted to make sure you didn't ever remember who you were. Regaining mortality temporarily was an interesting side effect.” Spoken like a true scientist.

"What does silver have to do with anything? I’ve been fond of silver for a while." Most of my jewelry is silver.

"Silver impedes our healing ability. If I were to cut myself, I would heal in a few minutes. You on the other hand would heal like a human. It's another reason they left the bullet where it is." Perhaps I should tell him about the dreams.

"That explains a lot. I've been having dreams. Dreams so real that I wake up in a cold sweat; dreams about killing. That's not me; I have trouble when we need to euthanize some poor old dog in chronic pain. But I can't stop these dreams."

"Those aren't dreams. They are visions some other vampire is sending you. We are telepathic as well. Do you know what telepathy is?" I nod. "The closer your blood line is the easier it is to speak mind to mind and to send visions."

"What if I don't want to be a vampire?"

Vampires came out of the shadows, out of fiction a long time ago. The end of racism is still decades away. You can't take the hundreds of years of fear that writers have used to scare the color out of your freckles out of a person overnight. Just like I can't take the animosity out of Linda from the bad technician she had to deal with before I started.

"There's no going back Angela. It's part of your DNA and gene therapy is still a pipe dream."

"Then why have I been able to live like a human for the past 10 years, why haven't I been hungry before this?"

"I have no idea. Do you think you can go back to work now?" I looked up at Dillon’s face and realized I had calmed down. My heartbeat still hasn't returned but everyone else’s has quieted down. My teeth feel normal again and the room is darker than it had been.

"I think so. How often will I need blood?"

"Its different for each of us. I don't think you'll be able to eat regular food anymore. Some can but not me. I’m stuck with only liquids."

"Great. I just bought groceries yesterday."

He chuckles. "The butcher shop on the highway south of town caters to our kind, he’s one of us. You can spend your grocery money there. You can stop by my house and pick up a few bags if you like. That should cover you until your next day off."

"Thanks Doc."

I sigh and stand up from the cold concrete floor. What's going to happen with Linda and Dr. Allen? What will they think of me? Will they refuse to work with me because of fear? Will they not respect me?

The rest of the day was uneventful and they seemed more relaxed than they have in years. I wonder if it's because they knew this day was coming but they just didn't know when. I feel sorry for them, working with a vampire who didn't know she was a vampire until the day when the hunger finally strikes her. That day could have been any day; you never know what might set her off. And the longer she goes without finding out the truth means the possibility of setting her off may come sooner than later. Like living with dynamite on a roller coaster.

What really surprised me was after we'd closed for the day and on the way out of the building both Linda and Dr. Allen apologized. I about fell over because Dr. Allen doesn't even apologize to her clients for being late to an appointment. Admitting she was wrong is an affront to her ego. I've learned to live with it.
So many books, so little time.

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Re: A History of Violence

Post by berry »

Hi Dragon,
I enjoyed the story, I also like the use of 1st person, present tense it made it immediate. I would have preferred not the have the knowledge of that 1st paragraph though, because of the tense it's written in it would fit with revealing that knowledge as she find it out.
I would have liked the dialog more personalized as the characters all seem a bit too much like the narrator.
I like the idea that this is a place/time where everyone knows about vampires, and that they've integrated into society, doing ordinary jobs. A vegetarian vampire vet, poetic in more ways than one.
Thanks for sharing your story
Outside of a dog, a book is mans best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.
Groucho Marx

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Re: A History of Violence

Post by dragon13writer »

Thanks for the feedback :mrgreen: . That first paragraph is intended to mimic the blurb on the back cover of a book. I was using it to get people motivated to read the first chapter and fill in some of the rest of the story since this is only the first chapter that's posted. Actually, the first chapter was written a couple of years back and I just picked it up again 6 weeks ago. I'm sure the dialog really does need some work. Each novel is a learning experience. I recently hit 20,000 words and hit that "lost in the middle" zone. I've realized that since she's dealing with a serial killer, there ought to be more corpses laying around.

Thanks Again!!
So many books, so little time.

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Re: A History of Violence

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Chapter 2

Night fell as I walked out of the back door of the office. I had my bag of blood dangling from my wrist as I walked to my red Nissan truck. It looks as if I've missed a spectacular sunset. If only I'd gotten the labwork for Buster done sooner I wouldn't be ten minutes late walking out the door.

Working as a vet tech leads to lots of unexpected hours. There are the 3 am c-sections on pugs or poodles or whatever and hit-by-car's at any time day or night and hunting dog injuries in the fall among many more unexpected problems. I never have a dull day. At least we don't do cattle work.

I also needed several darkroom breaks so I wouldn't feed on the clients. Doc told me to take a week off. Linda nearly exploded then came to her senses when I ran for the darkroom again.

I pull my cell phone off my hip as I slid into the seat and dial Brendans cell number.

"Hey honey." I hear his DJ voice sounding pleased that I called. "How's your day been?"

"Fangs and Furry." It's my usual response but today he won't know how fangtabulous it was until I get a chance to explain. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"No and I doubt I'll find time either. I'm currently interviewing witnesses of a homicide. But if you could pick something up I'll stop by and spend ten mintues with you." He's so sweet. If it sounds like we're married, it's because we've been dating for the last 3 years. I'm afraid of marriage because of my unknown past. How do you give yourself to somebody when you don't know who you were?

"Okay. What are you hungry for?"

"Actually not much. The corpse bled everywhere." Probably not the best thing he could have said. "Surprise me. I hate to say this but maybe something not red."

"I can do that." I say trying not to let my fangs make me sound as if I have a lisp but my voice changed to reflect the hunger he stimulated with the blood comment. If I can hear the hunger in it, I'm sure he can as well.

"Are you alright?" Sure, nothing a little blood won't cure. Maybe a lot more than a little.

"I'm fine. Really." Be nice to him Angela before he comes running to help and you'll find your fangs in his neck.

"Are you sure?" Hurry up so I can fang the bag damnit.

"Yes. I'll explain later. I've gotta go. Good luck finding the killer." He chuckles and hangs up.

I drop the phone on the seat beside me and had the bag in my mouth before the phone lights shut off. I feel the blood trickle down my chin and I barely catch it before it stains my shirt. I almost feel like an addict. After a few swallows, my hunger subsides, my fangs retract but the world doesn't return to its usual darkness. I look around to see the parking lot empty, the security lights on and a nearly full moon. My eyes could not leave the moon in all its blinding splendor. I pull myself away and start the engine.

After driving through Sonics I head home with my sunglasses on. Those headlights are too bright. I think I'll give Dillon some time with Sally before I interrupt their evening.

I walk up my cracked frontwalk and into the shadow along side my single bedroom little house that I rent. I look up to the moon and twinkling stars high above. The darkness envelopes m and I feel safe for the first time since I first tasted blood today.

I look down at the bags in my arms and wish reality hadn't returned so quickly. The sun is completely gone from the sky and I feel more myself than I felt since they found me wandering aimlessly. Now I've got to go into my little house that is empty except for my cat who is just a house cat, not a friend and wait for Brendan to get off work. I just don't want to go there. I don't want to go to Dillons either just now. I don't want to learn responsibility and control and what I can't do. I feel wild like I want to run and chase and feast. I want to be the thing they fear, the horror in the night. I want them to challenge me and know my wrath. I feel like a tiger needing to hunt in the tall trees and grasses and the things in the bags in my arms won'd bring that rush, that excitement.

Yet my reality side, my responsible side says go inside put his fast food in the fridge, leave him a note and check on the cat before you go. I didn't expect it to compromise so easily and that is exactly what I did.

I run out into the night and down the street. Running so hard I expect to develop a rapidly pounding heartbeat and get winded. Neither of which come. I watch cats and stray dogs sniff around and play and run and fight. I hear the night creatures I've never heard before so loudly. The snow and ice doesn't slow me down either.

A familiar scent stops me short. I smell Patty coming from near by in the direction of The Night Club. Original name isn't it? Now I wish I'd have thought about getting out of my work clothes. I rush back home and grab the one outfit I bought on a whim and never wore because it made me look like a slut. At the time I bought it I was in a terrible self destructive mood after a very hard night of nightmares. Tonight, I don't care what others think of me.

The skin tight black leather skirt doesn't allow for much running and neither do the three inch heeled knee high boots. The halter top is a thin shimmery gold fabric that I never thought I'd wear at fifteen degrees.

I look past the mirror and see my cat Marnie eyeing me from the bed. Marnie has long soft calico fur and an attitude that would give Stephanie Plum's partner Lula a run for her money. Marnie has one eye because she lost the other one to a really bad eye infection. When I've done something wrong, she gives me the evil eye and with only one eye you can tell she means it. Tonight, she's evaluating my new smell. I put my hand out for her to smell. She gets up and stretches, sniffs my fingers, turns in a circle before laying down again. She seems more relaxed than normal.

So I put on my winter coat to blend in. I guess I'm not completely ready for the world to find out I've got fangs. Especially if word gets around to all of our clients that really like me. They like Dillon but after knowing me for five years and then I suddenly into a hunter might just make them a little more than uneasy.

I get frustrated as I walk down the street and I remember that I'm in a bad section of town looking like a hooker. I try to tell myself that being in a bad part of town doesn't matter anymore. I'm immortal and whatever they do to me will be nothing compared to what I'll give them back. Still, I'd rather avoid any problems. I look to the still cloudy sky with it's moon fainly sifting through and wish I could fly.

The night becomes silent as if I've become deaf. The clicking of my heels has stopped, the sounds from the cars and general human noise has quieted and I feel alone. I pull my eyes away from the sky and find myself high above the town.

Sweet! I smile. I head back to the nightclub and walk into the chaow of flashing lights and fast paced music with a heavy drum beat and jumping sweaty bodies. I toss my coat and rush into the frenzy.

I loose myself in the music and the rythm of the lives around me. I embrace the wild feelings that came when the sun went down.

The music winds down and I sit at the b ar to watch the crowd. The dancing seems chaotic like some tribal ritual but it all come down to touching, laughing and sweating. It's about all I can do to sit and not feast on somebody.

"You're new here." I look to my right and find a rogueish man in a black leather and denim jeans. His short cropped hair is fire red with a moustache and goatee. He wears black jeans and t-shirt with a Harley Davidson logo. His clothes are covered by a worn black leather jacket. He smells of blood and wine. I also smell the wild beast of fur and pine hiding under his skin. I growl back at him. Not a wolf growl but something larger, with bigger claws and very sharp teeth.

"Relax. We're only here to have fun. So how long have you had fangs tiger?"

"Not exactly sure. I have amnesia."

He chuckles. "That's not possible."

"It is if you have a silver bullet lodged in your brain." He turns from the crowd and looks at me squarely as if memorizing me.

"Oh, your that cat. It's been what? Around a decade?" I nod and return to the dance floor.

"What do they call you these days?" I hear above the music but the humans don't notice it?" I growl softly and the crowd moves away. I leave the dance floor and return to the bar.

"How do you do that?"

"It's an animal thing. The vamps don't have it. It's how we communicate when in animal form. Works better than body language sometimes."

"Whatever." He turns around and sips from his glass of red wine.

"Angela? Oh my god, it that really you?" From the dance floor comes Patty in a pink chenile tank with a v neck. It accents her long blond hair beautifully. I've never seen her in pink before. She should wear it more often. Usually Patty's attire resembles more cowgirl than urban party girl. Most days she wears western style jeans and a scrub top with horses on it. She also has a horse named Tara. Her and Tara usually spend their early mornings and late evenings together and quite a bit of the weekends as well. I get to go along once in a while but the horses don't like me much. I'd love to go riding but I doubt that will ever happen.

I slid off the stool and she hugs me. I sigh and catch a scent of her. She smells of pink strawberry frosted cupcakes with white wine. I quickly force my hunger back down.

"You look really hot but you don't look like you're not having a good time. Have you picked up any sexy guys yet? You and Brendan didn't break up did you?" She rambles on many more questions. I wonder how much she's had to drink. She doesn't usually talk that fast or that much. I shake my head and notice her neck. Crap. I felt my eyes shift and I see her blood rushing under her skin. My fangs extend and I turn away. Will this ever end? My mouth feels dry and I swallow hard. I clinch my hands into fists and try to calm down.

"Angela?" Rogue puts his hand on my shoulder. I look over at him and directly into the strobe light. *beep*. My hand flys up and blocks the light. I see a concerned look on his face. I shrug his hand off my shoulder and put my hands on my face.

"Leave me alone." I get up and walk to the door. Patty shrugs and goes back to the dance floor.

"I'm Drew. What do ya say we get out of here?"

"Go away." I slide my coat over my bare shoulders and walk outside. He follows me through the door. I breath deeply of the cool night air to hopefully clear my hunger and start walking home.

He seems more determined than I gave him credit for as he falls into step beside me. "Beautiful night. And that's an awesome moon isn't it. Won't be long before we can't deny the change." I should be curious about what he's insinuating but I just want to be alone.

"I hadn't noticed." He grabs my arm and pulls me in close. I struggle to break free but go nowhere.

"Angela, this isn't starting off well. Haven't you learned control yet? I pretend to not control my hunger but unless you control it, it will control you. You'll be run out of town or put to death. You're too pretty to die."

"The silver kept me mortal since I was shot. Today my heartbeat went away." My spine seems to have lost all the muscle holding it up and tears streak down my face. I drop my head to his shoulder and cry my eyes out. "Oh God, I wanted to feed on my best friend."

"Hungry?" he asks as I wipe my tears from my face onto my coat sleeve. He has a sweet, slightly amused expression on his face. I glare at him. "You are a hell cat aren't you?" he chuckles

"Yes."

"Come with me, we'll grab a bite." He grabs my hand and starts to pull me down the street. I thought for a second that it would be easy to go with Drew and learn 'on the job'. I promised I'd see Brendan tonight and I'd go see Doc.

"I should get home." I turn around and start walking but he holds onto my hand.

"I can help you." I doubt it but I'll give Doc a chance.

"No one can help me. I don't know who I am, only that I was shot in the head because I was a bad vamp and I deserved it." I hug myself as my feet keep going.

"That was then. You're not that person today. I can guarantee that." If only I could. "Come on, lets go have some fun." He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

"I can't. I have somewhere to go." I smile weakly. "Raincheck?"

"Okay." He shoves his hands in his pockets. I fly off to just above the street lights. "How did she do that?" I hear from behind me. It almost inspires me to smile. A few minutes later I land at my front door.

It sure has been a wild night and maybe Brendan hasn't been here yet. I open my front door and notice fast food wrappers on the table. Damn, I missed him. I was hoping it would be a while yet.

I walk into my bedroom and slid out of the sexy outfit and into my favorite jeans and sweatshirt before fanging another bag of cattle blood. I grab the paper bag and toss it into the trash then notive the note I left on the table. He scribbled something on the bottom but I can't read it. How does he do his job if he can't read his own notes. Maybe his partner James that does all the paperwork.
So many books, so little time.

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waytanblee
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Re: A History of Violence

Post by waytanblee »

I have to be honest, first person present tense isn't my favorite tence. It's fine for a screen play, but for a story it is just surprising. I started to read a book written in it once and I couldn't help but feel that it came off as akward. To be sure, one would no longer need to assume that the character of a 1st person past tense story has amaising recall, but I can forgive them that small hiccup because that's the normal way one tells us a story about themselves. It would probably be hard to convert the story at this stage but you could atleast transpose a small peice and see how you liked it /:

It is hard to understand what you mean sometimes. This is not because of lack of explination, the problem lies with errors of cognition, or lack of re-enforcement of the ideas and factors of the story. Try leaving it for a week, then read it through as if you were new to the story. Try to get into the mind of a first time reader, from there you should be able to freshly analyse what the problem areas are. It comes off as being a shambles at the moment. I hope I'm not being mean. I just think that some re-ordering or some elaboration, so that it doesn't jump around from bit to bit so much, would really help the piece. Maybe calrifying that it is the same day, or some discursive about how the week has been--that's why 1st person past participle's good--might stablize it.

The second paragraph is interesting. Good work! I find myself wondering what has happened to her, and imagine her walking along covered in blood quite vividly, which I find myself doing from time to time when I'm enjoying a book.

The tense has gotten easier to like as I've gone along. I can't tell where you've messed up with tense correctness because I'm not farmilliar with it, but things like this seem to need tweaking:

I’m so happy they['ve/'d] created the vaccine.

But then again, i'm not sure.

There are some problems with your grammar. I'm not sure if grammar checks are what you want because that is often something one can do for themselves or get an editor to do and I myself am no expert, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I found a problem with this bit:

After admitting and medicating the puppy[-,] we continue[d] with the cat spay.

I always have trouble with that kind of comma. I imagine the first bit in inverted commas, then the last bit in inverted commas as well, then it doesn't seem to make any sence. However, if i used this rule on my own writing none of it would make sence anyway, so maybe I can't really help with that one :wink:

Bits like this is where it really starts making sence to me:

When I realized this[-,] I became very angry. So angry I could barely speak. I couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn’t get a word in because they wouldn't shut up.

The story is tending to waffle on a bit, and hard to understand because of the tense, I'm wondering where it's going /:

I didn't understand the conversion from dream to reality. Was the talk with the doctor a dream or reality?

Sorry i didn't read the second excerpt. i'll try to look over it later.

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