Noxwood - Belmont

I paced restlessly along the streets, staring into neon-lit storefronts. This part of town was empty by now, and the silence boosted my anxiety. Should I turn back? In my part of town, vampires and other night creatures roamed freely, but here, in the human quarters, the nights were so lonely, so desolate. So why did I come here? My feet kept dragging forward, as if my body and brain weren't communicating. I felt completely hollow, but that's how I wanted to feel. 

 "Hey, kid, looking for some company?" 

 I glanced toward a brightly lit doorway where a woman, probably in her mid-thirties, offered me a tired smile. She was wearing clothes far too tight, with a skirt revealing more than I cared to see. Her makeup was smeared, likely after a long, busy night. 

 "Sure," I mumbled, taking a step forward. 

 Her face lit up. "Got cash?" I nodded a few times and walked past her into the doorway. "Second door on the left." 

 The hallway's fluorescent lights flickered erratically, making me squint against the uneven brightness. The walls and floor were stained with unidentifiable fluids, and the air reeked of cheap booze, smoke, and sweat. The room was cramped, with a dingy bed and a chair next to a lamp covered with red fabric—an attempt at creating ambiance, I guessed. 

 Suddenly, hands slid beneath my shirt, and nausea hit me instantly. In one swift motion, I turned and grabbed her by the throat. I grinned as I saw the panic in her eyes and the way she stared, transfixed, at the fangs growing in my mouth. Moments later, I tasted the blood pulsing between my lips. I drank hungrily, letting the warm liquid flood my senses until the body in my arms became lifeless and cold. 

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I let the body drop to the filthy floor with a thud. Quickly, I stepped out of the stinking room and resumed my aimless walk. My body buzzed with energy, the rush of her blood coursing through me. With lighter steps, I inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. It was a fleeting moment of satisfaction.  

An hour later I stepped into the small apartment and headed straight for my room, but my feet hesitated at the threshold. Bad memories and dreams washed over me as I stared at my bed. Damn it, I have to sleep, I thought, shuffling inside and throwing myself onto the mattress in a feeble attempt to rest. 

No matter what I did, I couldn't sleep anymore. Ever. The nights were spent wandering aimlessly, lost and searching. I waited for the sun to rise so I could dare to sleep, but even then, I didn't. The room felt so eerily empty, and I didn't want to be alone. When I was alone, my thoughts tormented. 

For a moment, I considered going somewhere else. The couch in the living room seemed tempting, but that wasn't where I wanted to be. With a tired sigh, I sat on the edge of the bed. The floor was littered with dirty clothes, pizza boxes, empty cigarette packs, and old beer cans. Anywhere was better than here. My room was full of nightmares and anxiety which left a suffocating weight in my chest. 

I was back to square one, trapped in a dark place I'd visited too many times before. A time before vampires were a part of my life, when everything revolved around surviving the noise and thoughts of the night. I knew that feeling all too well. 

Why the hell had it been a vampire? I'd preferred being bit by a radioactive spider. At least the life of a superhero would've been something thrilling compared to this crappy existence, I thought, laughing dryly. 

With all my strength, I pushed the emotions aside, stood up, and left the room, leaving the suffocating anxiety behind as I sought out the company I longed for. My feet knew the way. A bit farther down the hall, I saw Masson's door, slightly ajar. Loud snores came from within, both his and the girl he'd brought home for the night. But his attention wasn't what I was looking for. 

My gaze shifted to Dominic's door, and I sighed when I realized it was closed. I shut my eyes tightly, telling myself he wasn't mad or holding a grudge; he probably just wanted to sleep undisturbed. With hesitant steps, I approached his door anyway, resting my forehead against the wood and placing my hand on the handle. I just needed to gather a little courage or get some sort of sign. I stood there for a while. Minutes passed. How long had I been standing there? Anxiety twisted my stomach even tighter. I couldn't handle rejection right now. Not tonight. For a brief moment, I considered going back to my room and lying down in the cold bed. But eventually, I mustered the courage and pressed down on the handle. 

The door creaked open, its hinges groaning annoyingly, and stopped halfway. I stood frozen in the doorway, holding my breath to see if he had woken. My eyes scanned his tattooed body, and I couldn't help but smile faintly at how peaceful he looked while he slept. The blanket had fallen to the floor, and my gaze wandered over his lean frame lying on his back in nothing but white boxers. 

A sharp ache pierced my heart as memories I wanted to forget came flooding back. He wasn't him, but Nico was warm, safe, and strong—exactly what I needed right now. 

 "Damn it, Bel, how long are you going to stand there?" he yawned, his voice muffled from the bed. 

 I bit my lip and allowed myself a small smile. "I didn't want to wake you." 

 "Come here," he muttered, "and bring the blanket." 

 I slipped into the tidy room as quietly as I could, shedding my clothes into a messy pile on the floor—even though I knew he hated that—I grabbed the comforter off the ground and slid in between him and the wall. 

 "You reek of humans," he said. 

I didn't respond. I didn't want to argue, not when I knew how much he despised my new habit. Instead, I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes. He was silent for a while, but then I felt his fingers running down my arm, sending small ripples of calm and happiness through me. 

But life had taught me that every happy moment had an end, and this one ended abruptly. "You can't keep doing this, Bel," he muttered irritably, turning to his side. His back felt so cold and hard, as if he'd thrown me out onto the street. 

"I know," I whispered, tentatively placing a hand on his hip. 

Seconds later, the happiness returned when he grabbed my hand and pulled me close with a deep sigh. "I'm here, Bel, but fix your shit before it's too late." 

 I nodded in the dark, even though I knew he couldn't see me. Slowly, I moved closer, his back pressing firmly against me as warmth spread through my tired muscles. This was exactly what I needed. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I thought I might actually sleep. But his face flashed before my eyes, and I jolted awake, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. 

 "Here." I looked up and met Dominic's eyes. He held out a bottle of sleeping pills. "You need to sleep." 

 Gratefully, I swallowed a handful, but I didn't dare close my eyes. His arm slid under mine and rested tightly against my chest. His presence calmed me, but even after a year, Clocksworths betrayal haunted me. I stared at the ceiling until the pills took effect, and I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The bed was empty when I woke up, and the spot next to me was already cold. With a yawn, I rolled onto my back and rubbed my face, trying to wake up and adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the open window. 

 The pile of clothes on the floor was gone, and I couldn't help but chuckle at Nico's neat-freak tendencies. It was so unexpected but charming in its own way. He was the total opposite of me and the messes I left in my wake. Instead of grabbing my own clothes, I pulled on a black hoodie I found in his closet. It was a bit tight around the shoulders, but it would do. 

 It occurred to me that I'd actually slept okay, and I glanced at the pill bottle on the nightstand. I couldn't help but wonder if it was his or if they were meant for me. The thought was interrupted by Masson's laughter echoing from the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of coffee as I stepped into the hallway. His room was empty except for the usual mess he left behind, just like me. 

Thank God the girl was gone—I hated the thought of strangers in my home. They were always strangers, always someone new every time. I shook my head at his playboy antics. He could be so damn annoying sometimes, but at the same time, I loved him like the little brother I never had. On my way to the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame. 

Mass immediately cut off his chatter when he saw me, but the grin stayed on his face. "I've got a job lined up, boss. You in?" 

 I ran a hand through my hair and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Nico. "For fuck's sake, Mass, let him eat first," Nico muttered, eyeing the hoodie I was wearing. 

 "It's fine," I yawned, taking a few steps into the cramped kitchen and settling at the ridiculously cluttered little table. There was only room for two chairs and a wobbly stool in the tiny kitchenette, and the table wasn't helping—covered in dirty dishes and junk mail. Apparently, it was Masson's week to clean. I glanced at him sideways. "What kind of job?" 

 "Weapons." 

 I raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna need more than that." 

 Dominic set three plates of eggs and toast down on top of the mail piles, shooting Masson an annoyed look before grabbing the stool and sitting next to me. "It's through the girl he's hooking up with. She's the contact." 

 "Which one?" I sighed, stuffing my mouth with fried eggs. 

 "The redhead," Mass grinned. I frowned, trying to recall a red-haired girl but quickly gave up.

 "And you trust her?" 

 "No, but it's fine. She doesn't know that I know." Mass saw the look Nico and I exchanged and grew visibly irritated. "The plan's airtight, Bel, I promise!" 

 I nodded a few times while spreading a thick layer of marmalade on my toast. "I trust you, Mass, you know that." 

 His grin was so wide I thought his damn face might split open. "I know. That's why we're scoping the place out tonight." He chugged his coffee and set the cup down with a clatter. "You in?" 

 "Sure." He was already halfway out of the kitchen when he called back, "Great, I'll text you the address later." 

 As soon as he was gone, I grabbed his plate and scarfed down the eggs he'd left behind. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had breakfast. 

 "Don't you have your own clothes?" 

 I shot Nico an amused look and shook my head. "None that are clean." 

 "Then do some laundry." 

 I met his irritated expression with a grin, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry." 

 "You're stretching it out."

Rolling my eyes, I got up, peeled off the hoodie, and folded it as neatly as I could before placing it on the cleanest surface I could find. Then I turned on the faucet and started gathering up the dishes.

 Even though I trusted Masson, I wanted to make sure of a few details, so I decided to dig deeper. Glancing at Nico, who was still eating, I asked, "What do you know about the weapons?"

 "They're being delivered tomorrow night," he said with a shrug. 

 "Do we know what they are?" 

 "Heavy stuff," he muttered, and our eyes met briefly. I let the water run over the plates, staring at the soapy bubbles as they disappeared down the drain. 

"Do we know a buyer?"

 "I've got a few options," he said calmly, moving to my chair so he could lean against the wall and prop his feet on the stool. 

The dishes clattered as I put them in the drying rack, and I heard the flick of a lighter as he lit a cigarette. "You feeling better?" The sudden question made me flinch—I hated talking about it. 

"The pills helped." 

 "Good," he mumbled, and soon I heard the scrape of the stool as he got up and walked over to me. 

I turned off the water and spun around, snatching the cigarette from his lips and taking a drag while I waited for him to speak. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it. He looked me straight in the eyes for what felt like minutes before finally saying, 

"Is he worth it, Bel?" I inhaled sharply, tipping my head back in a futile attempt to collect myself. "He left," Nico continued, "and I don't get why you let him torture you." I didn't reply. I knew he was right, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it. With a sigh, he took the cigarette back and stepped closer, letting his fingertips brush against my bare chest. "Fine. Forget I said anything."

He hesitated for a moment, and I knew he had more to say. I knew I should've stopped him when he walked away, but I couldn't. Instead, I turned back around and kept washing the dishes.