Caffeine and Magix

caffeinewitchcraft:

“You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be lonely,” the immortal in the backseat says. He’s already broken out of his cuffs, but that’s as far as he’s gotten. The crosses engraved on the windows and in the metal around him prevent him from using his strength to punch out of the car. “Not truly lonely.”

You don’t look back, focusing on the road. Your partner is dead next to you, throat torn out and head gently thunking against the window every time you hit a pothole. His hand is lying next to his leg,  blood filling his palm from where he tried to patch over the hole in his neck. You say, “Not a good enough reason for kidnapping seventeen innocent girls.”

The immortal raises a dark eyebrow. “If they’d been guilty, would that have been better?” The silence stretches and he scoffs when it’s clear you aren’t going to give him an answer. “Or maybe if I hadn’t been a vampire?”

“It’d’ve been better if you hadn’t broken the law,” you say. You take a left sooner than you should and, if your passengers notice the car picking up speed, neither mention it. “Or at least not done in my partner.”

“He surprised me,” the immortal says carelessly. He frowns out the window, eyes tracking the passing street signs. “Impressive stealth. I’m not easily surprised.”

You bet. According to the brief, he’s nearly two centuries old. You focus on the town’s perimeter coming up and reach over to prod your partner’s corpse. “Hey.”

“We,” the vampire says slowly, “are heading away from the station.”

You let the gas pedal touch the floor. The buildings melt away and the desert bursts out to either side of the car. Miles and miles of desert. You jab your partner with three fingers. “Hey, wake up. I’m gonna crash the car.”

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(via caffeinewitchcraft)