Current mood:

distressed

Ageless
Tristan could hardly believe his luck. Usually he had to hunt for his meal, but tonight dinner arrived practically on his front door! He had just pulled on his jacket and headed out of his crypt when he saw an elderly woman standing at the foot of one of the freshly made graves. Ah, poor gal grieving for her husband, he thought. Pity, that.

Tristan glanced around, taking note that the cemetery was empty, the sun was set, and only the grandma's beat up old Chevy truck sat parked outside the gates. The night was young, and after eating Tristan knew he'd have plenty of time to play.



He slowly made his way between various grave markings and approached the older woman. He noted that the grey haired lady had fresh tear tracks on her wrinkled cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy. "My deepest sympathies," began Tristan. "Your husband?"

The woman nodded, hardly glancing at Tristan. "Yes. He passed suddenly of a heart attack just before Thanksgiving."

"It must even be harder to endure during the holidays." Tristan clasped his hands behind his back, his feet shoulder length apart as he stood vigil beside the woman, offering his condolences.

The woman nodded, finally raising her head to glance his way. She had forgotten her glasses in the truck, and her vision was blurry from emotions of sadness. She didn't see him clearly, but he appeared young to her. What a nice boy, she thought. Polite and kind. "It is never easy to bear a loss of a loved one, son. We had five sons, however, and they have barely left my side. I had to sneak out tonight to talk to him alone." She nodded at the grave when she said 'him,' indicating her late husband.

"Were you married a long time?" She had to have been, with five kids. Tristan was intrigued, despite himself. A marriage lasting these days was a rare thing.

"Why, we were married 52 years last month, and he was the best thing that ever happened to me." She smiled through her tears, cocking her head at Tristan. "What about you? Do you have a special lady in your heart?"

Tristan didn't meet her eyes, turning to look up at the obscured moon. He thought of Rhiannon. It had been months since he'd seen her. He ached for his want and need of her. He thought of Bethany, and her cool exterior and need for control, yet gentle touch when he was with her. They made a good couple, but he was still confused if it was business, or pleasure. Lastly, he thought of Jo, the blonde slayer. Special lady? She was special, but in a much darker way. He longed to tear her limb from limb. Only then did he turn to the woman to answer her question. "So many ladies, so little time." He cackled, an evil sounding laugh that made the woman's hairs on her arms stand up on end.

The woman realized for the first time that she was utterly alone, at night, with a strapping young man. A cold sensation flooded her senses, causing her spine to shiver. She visibly shook herself and rubbed at her eyes. "I should return home before my sons discover I'm missing." She gave Tristan a polite nod and then took a step away from him. Tristan jumped to block her path. Her eyes bulged in fear as she saw him for what he was, a vampire, demon of the night.

Her blood was not as rich and thick as he preferred it. She was so weak that it took but mere moments to drain her.


When he was finished, he laid her body on top of her husband's grave. "Together, so soon." He smiled at his handy work and quickly grabbed the truck keys out of her pocket. Then he hurried over to the vehicle, climbed in, and drove it behind his lair, hiding it in the dark. He'd been wanting some wheels. Hopefully he could keep the truck for awhile, at least.

Once the truck was concealed as best he could in this treeless, godforsaken desert, Tristan cleaned himself up and then again left his home to go and find some mischief. He contemplated the mines. It had been a long time since he'd hiked around up there, and he was aching for an adventure. As he started out of the gate towards the street, he heard a sound coming from the opposite end of the cemetery. He craned his neck as he saw a form walking this way. A man. Great, he thought. One of her sons already? He gripped the gate with his fingers, deciding not to run but to deal with sonny right off. Perhaps he'd have all of his fun right here and now.

His fingers turned even whiter than his normal pale coloring as he gripped the gate tighter and tighter as the man came into view. "Who??? What???" He shook his head to clear his vision. "It can't be."

The man slowly made his way over to Tristan. He seemed bewildered, and not a little frightened. "Hello? Can you help me?"

Tristan was frozen in place. It had been over a century since he'd laid eyes on this man. His mother had done nothing but complain over and over again to Tristan about how he was as worthless as his father. Tristan had known him only from pictures, and occasional visits. He had assumed that his father had died either in jail, or in a drunken stupor. How was it possible that his father now stood here before him?

"Are you?" but Tristan could not finish the question. It was obvious that the man was not a vampire. He had not been turned into some kind of demon. Tristan heard the rapid beating of the man's heart. His father's heart. His ears flooded with the sound of the man's blood pumping and roaring through his body.

The man frowned. It was obvious he would get no help from this miscreant. Was the boy retarded or something? "Nevermind, I'll help myself." With that Tristan's long ago dead father limped off down the street, leaving a shocked Tristan in his wake.