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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1430331-The-Fourth-Bite
by Chayla
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Supernatural · #1430331
Three bites changes a person into a vampire, but a fourth bite reverses everything.
  "Hand over your valuables!"

  This was NOT how Cheryl's day was supposed to end. It started off relatively good.  The sun was shining, her car was working, she was on time to her job, but from there, it started going downhill.

  The boss at Industrial Machines had to pick that morning for a group meeting.  Usually Cheryl was up to date on her paperwork.  Cheryl had the current information for that week but the boss wasn't satisfied.  He wanted information on machines that was supposed to have been delivered last week.  LAST WEEK, he emphasized.  The information was downstairs in one of the twenty five team books, but which one, she didn't know.

  For the rest of the day she had to go through the team books.  It wasn't enough that the information her boss was looking for was not in any of the books.  It was enough that the boss BELIEVED the information was there; so therefore, it was.  Bennett Everett knew it all, had it all, spent it all.

  Yeah, and he was full of it all too, Cheryl thought.

  So here it was late at night, trying to go home after a day of unsuccessful work, and this teen lunatic with a toy gun wanted to rob her.

  As if she had anything worth stealing.

  "I said, hand over your valuables!"

  Cheryl looked at him as she tossed her purse at his feet.

  "If you think $3.51 is going to make you rich, go right ahead and take it."

  He looked surprised for a moment.  The moment quickly turned to anger.

  "That's all you have?  What about credit cards?"

  "None."

  "Check book?"

  "Forgot to put new ones in book."

  "Savings account?"

  "Less than what my purse contains."

  "What DO you have of value, you dumb..."

  "Don't finish it."

  The words came from behind the trees.

  "...because if you finish it, I may have to start something."

  Cheryl strained her eyes, but could not see who voiced their opinion.  Male, definately a male voice, but there were no men in sight.  Bushes, grass, trees, sidewalk, road--no one else but her and her robber.  The teen spun around, then turned and aimed the gun at Cheryl.  There was a gleam in those brown eyes she did not like.  It was starting to put fear in her chest.

  "Tell your companion to show himself before I drill you full of holes."

  He cocked the trigger back as he spoke.  It wasn't a toy.

  "I don't have a companion.  I'm by myself."

  "DON'T GIVE ME ANY CRAP!" he screamed.  "Do it and do it NOW!"

  Cheryl didn't have the time nor the opportunity to do as the young robber asked.  One moment he was standing in front of her screaming out a command, the next second he was in the air, facing a different direction.  It took both of them a few moments to realize the boy had been holsted a foot off the ground.

  "I do believe you mean this lady no harm."  the voice said.  It was then she saw two legs in back of the uprooted teen.  Black slacks, nice shoes.  The rest of him was hidden behind the boy's body.

  "Why don't you be a nice robber and go turn yourself in to the police?"

  "Turn yourself in, you adled piece of..."

  The boy's words stopped suddenly.  Cheryl thought for a moment the stranger might be choking him.  She moved to see better, and could see the boy's throat clearly.  Slowly the boy was lowered to his feet, his eyes clearly connected to the stranger's.  Somehow, just looking at the stranger must have surprised him enough to stop talking. 

  "The police station is three blocks away.  Once I release you, turn and report to the officers what you have done tonight."

  Cheryl was about to interrupt when the stranger released his hold on the boy.  The boy turned to his left, and slowly walked away.  Cheryl eyes the stranger as he watched the robber walk away.

  Clearly he had to be six foot three, maybe five.  Dark brown hair waved around his ears, not too long, but thick enough to command fingers to run through it.  Long aqualine nose, firm-set jaws--good looking man.  She couldn't make out what color his eyes were, but she was going to know as soon as he turned around. 

  He looked like he had just been to the theater.  Black tux, black cumberbund--God, didn't the man have any color to him?  All black, except for a pristine white shirt.  She bet every cent she had in her purse that he had dark eyes, too.

  When he turned around, she won her bet.

  Jet black, from this distance.  Close up, maybe a darker brown?

  "Are you all right?  Youth has a habit of not knowing its own strength."

  "I'm fine... but you let the little crook go?  Do you really think he'll turn himself in at the police station?"

  The man smiled.  He had beautiful white teeth.  The man probably had a compulsion to brush his teeth every hour on the hour.  How else could they be so white white?

  "Yes, I do." came the reply.  Cheryl was shocked for a moment.  Did she voice her opinion about his teeth, or were they still discussing the crook?

  "He knows what he did wrong.  Turning himself in to higher authority should cure him for a while.'

  "How long is your idea of 'a while'?"

  Again that smile.

  "Depends on how many others he robbed. The authorities might want to keep such a busy young man."

  She never saw him move.  One moment he was several feet away, the next he was beside her.

  "Allow me to introduce myself.  David Logan."

  "I'm Cheryl Ross.  Do you always dress to the nines to rescue ladies in distress?"

  A throaty laugh.  Deep rich laughter from Mr. Tuxedo Man.

  "I just came from a most enjoyable night at the theater.  One does dress for theater."

  "Of course."  Cheryl didn't know which theater he was discussing nor why he was discussing his tuxedo.  That voice, that laugh, his incredible smile--Cheryl just remembered how the young man obeyed Mr. Logan.

  "I saw the young man with the gun point it at you, and had to stop him.  I do hope he has not harmed you in any way."  His hand grazed her cheek.

  It felt good.

  ""No, I'm not harmed."  Touch me again.  "He was wanting--oh, my purse!"  She caught sight of the item in the street.  "I threw it at him when he wanted my money."

  She went to get her purse but was stopped by a foot planted on it.

  "You won't need this for a while."

  She looke dup into green eyes.  That was the only think on the stranger's face that appeared calm.

  "Leave her alone, Dexter."

  This from Logan.  Cheryl stood slowly, not knowing what to expect from either man.  The stranger watched as she backed away from him.

  Right into another man.

  "You're not going anywhere."

  This from Mr. I-Bumped-Into-You.  The voice was not to her liking.

  "Leave her alone.  She's harming no one."

  Laughter.  It sounded like it was coming from five different throats.

  "Leave her alone, Turner."  David advanced toward the man.  "She doesn't deserve to be treated..."

  "Like dinner?"  Another make added his voice to the conversation.  "Looks pretty good to me."

  Cheryl backed up intil she was with David.  "What's going on?  Who are you?"

  "Friends." David placed his hands on her upper arms.  "Friends who think it's funny to interrupt someone's evening out."

  "Yeah." Another guy agreed.  "Especially when you ought to be taking your prize."

  "Prize?  What is he talking about?"

  David never answered but she could feel his hands tightning on her shoulders.

  "What kind of vamp are you, Davy-boy?  Seersucker?"

  Everyone around David laughed.

  "Tramp?" Cheryl's shout stopped the laughter.  "Who are you calling a tramp?  You don't know what kind of a person I am.  None of you can jump to that conclusion just on seeing me for the first time."

  The one called Dexter advanced toward her.  Before he could reach her someone cried out, "Dawn is approaching!"

  All the men stilled.  One looked at David and said, "We'll meet again at another feeding station."  Again, the others laughed.  Cheryl closed her eyes and shook her head.  When she opened them, she and David were the only ones there.

  "I have to leave," he spoke first, not wanting her to ask any questions.  "May I see you tomorrow night?  I want to apologize for what has happened."

  "Of course."  Cheryl wanted to ask a zillion questions about the ones who left quickly.  "Tomorrow, here in the park?"

  "I'll be here."  He raised her hand and kissed it, causing Cheryl to blush as she turned her head. When she turned back, he, too, was gone.




This is all I have so far of my story.  Please let me know what you think of it.






© Copyright 2008 Chayla (silverstar12 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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