V/K one shot series, Part: The Second To The Last: His Albatross
It wasn’t about love.
Let me make this perfectly clear. There was no wanting. No butterflies in my stomach or the beauty of life renewed. There was only the Big Empty, the invisible hole where the world rushed in and threatened to tear my body apart from the inside out. And it was all her fault.
She could have been anywhere. She could have been a housewife in China or some washed up waitress working a diner in no-where Oregon. Hell, she could have been dead. But no, Kaira Dunstan had to be alive and well, and at exactly the wrong place at a very bad fucking time.
Oh no, bitch didn’t even cover it.
That violet-haired harlot was supposed to be a snack, a short-time meal, a play thing to pass the time with, because when you live forever, time is the only sure thing you’ve got. But no. She had to muck up the works. Robbing me of my rest during the daylight hours, making me fucking care, stealing my love of the hunt! That’s it! That’s what she was! Kaira Dunstan was not just a creature of emotion, but a thief and collector of one’s livelihood, ones soul, at least what was left of mine that is.
Now I could barely sleep. My body was only doing so because it was the only way to keep moving to point B. Eating was something I did out of necessity, not enjoyment, the irony of it all! The little goth that was just going to be my second course was now…I can’t even say it! It’s disgusting. Kaira couldn’t be that, it had to be a trick. A deception by the Gods above to take away my last pleasure of life, to remind me that I am a damned man.
Not that I’ve ever minded! Sure, it’s not easy, but I’ve been making the most of it. I let myself become a part of history, starting the occasional war or triggering the next disaster when the mood of absolute and total boredom strikes. You think you’ve seen it all? You think you’re desentized? Try living forever, then come back to me. I’m pretty sure I have seen everything. So I make something I haven’t seen before. Problem solved.
Till that fena had to come along and do the worst possible fucking thing, she resentized me. I was fine with not feeling anything anymore, you get used to it, you revel in it, you use it to your own enjoyment. It’s easy to get up and desert the latest coven house when you don’t really give a shit if they live or die. When they get boring, you simply call up the local hunter with an anonymous tip and hop the next Lear Jet to wherever the hell it’s going. Does it have full size blankets and closed window seating? Great. Count me in.
But now I had feelings. I cared about her, and it was the most frustrating, agonizing thing I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t just go and forget it all with the next most interesting thing, because I couldn’t forget her. She ruined me! Vincent Pavel, starter of World War 1, the real gun man behind the death of President JFK, and what brings about my demise? A petite purple-haired girl who can barely hold a knife with the psychic abilities of an Orthodox Catholic.
And she claimed that I ruined her. She could have turned back at anytime! But she chose me. I didn’t force her into anything. Well, maybe that one time, where I threatened to eat Rachel, but only that one time! Everything before that was her own damned doing. It was Kaira that chose to leave her friends and her old life behind, not me. I simply presented the option in a very enticing manner.
I didn’t ruin her. She ruined me. And I was going to repay the favor. That was all. Nothing more than that, and nothing at all less.