Is Anybody Out There? [Kestral]

[Kenneth]

Dead-end jobs have the ability to suck the life right out of a person. They go into the job, enthusiastic and ready to make a difference. But when they realise there’s no upward motion, their hope and light are slowly taken from them—their lost light probably lives in the bright fluorescents, as if the proprietors of the dead end job only want to taunt and torture those who have no option but to stay.

Kenneth was one such person. He rented an apartment in the city which asked for an exorbitant amount of money. He couldn’t afford to quit, and no matter how many times he asked or hinted at it, those higher up ignored his pleas for a raise; for a promotion.

So he slaved away each day at the same desk, trawling over the death records and writing obituaries for the surviving friends or family who asked for them. Every now and again Kenneth procrastinated by writing his own obituary—

He led a life of hope and optimism, and yet was sadly struck down by the heavy hand of circumstance.

It was exactly how he felt. Circumstance was surrounding him on all sides, forbidding him to lead any other life except the one he’d been handed. It made him feel trapped, obligated, and totally depressed. When he was growing up he’d find inspiration in every rain drop, every lightning strike, every wayward look given to him by a passing stranger. He lived for that inspiration—for that quickening of the heart and the mind as they each strove in separate ways to express that inspiration.

But everything he wrote these days came out sounding like a death letter—a suicide note. And each death…they were all so strange, so similar, so unlikely. So many young people who had nothing wrong with them. Due to privacy restrictions Kenneth was never allowed the full story. It only made him curious.

And although that curiosity could in turn spark inspiration, the inspiration was soon smothered by the job he had to do. It was a vicious circle. It was infuriatingly tedious. He needed to get out. He needed to feel. He needed to experience something grand.

It was why he was standing on the ledge of the building in which he worked. It wasn’t really all that high—it was only three stories up. But it was high enough. He wasn’t intending on jumping, but he was slightly inebriated and not really in control of his own actions.

In his hand he held a mostly-empty bottle of scotch, which he proceeded to take a large swig from. He was numb to the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat—he wobbled slightly and dropped the now-empty bottle of scotch. It hurtled to the ground soundlessly before smashing into a thousand fragments as it hit the pavement below.

Kenneth didn’t really notice, nor did he care. He flung his arms out wide, as if appealing to the sky (which was darkened by heavy rainclouds, a flash of lightning far to the west).

“IS ANYBODY OUT THERE….?!”

He shouted to no-one in particular. His voice was snatched away by the wind; but deep down Kenneth knew he was doing something idiotic, and it made him laugh—a chuckle residing deep in his throat, which sent him staggering backwards. His heel slipped on the safe side of the ledge and he landed on his backside with a ‘thud’ and a consequent string of curses.

[kestral]

The night was darker than usual. Too dark. The dark clouds in the already pitch black sky obscured Kestral’s favorite part of the ebony expanse of the heavens. The stars and the moon were the only reason Kestral could stand the darkness. When she had been a human child, her only love had been the sunshine. It was the most brilliant, warm, and lovely thing in her world. She had always enjoyed escaping to the dazzling rays of sunlight in the countryside of France as a girl. When she had been turned, her companion was the moon. Vastly different and almost lonesome in comparison to her ever burning ball of warmth which she had been so accustomed to and never to see again. In the back of her mind, there was always the echoing thought of ‘At least for now.’ But thinking in such a depressing way was to be private behavior, and currently Kestral was in a public place.

It wasn’t too terribly late in the night. In fact, Kestral had only ventured out a few hours ago, so it killed her to find that it was likely to rain. The rain always spoiled her fun, she thought with a pout. Her hand absently stirred the steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of her as she looked out the glass window of the shop. Although Kestral no longer required food or drink (besides the delicious blood of others) she still had a fondness for coffee. It was relaxing and warm. It filled up the coldness inside.

After a few more minutes of far away thoughts, Kestral finished her cup and disposed of it, twirling her folded up umbrella which was looped around her thin wrist. She exited the coffee shop and began walking down the city sidewalk, letting her nose guide her in whichever direction it pleased. She had already fed tonight, so she was more just aimlessly wandering, bored.

The clouds held in their moisture while she walked, looking at each human who walked past her on their way to somewhere. Everyone was always on their way somewhere, whether it be mentally or physically. So in this way, Kestral was like the humans she passed. She was in an odd sort of mood, almost bordering on the edge of apathetic. Usually she had more life in her. Maybe the rain was just killing her typically jubilant and playful mood. Even dinner hadn’t been fulfilling this evening.

Just as Kestral rounded a corner, something fell from the sky, shattering right in front of her. There was a slight sting as some of the glass shards hit her bare legs. She glanced down in annoyance, watching as the pieces popped out of her marred flesh and the wounds closed up. The little droplets of crimson left on her shins were the only evidence of her ever being hit. Kestral didn’t bother with cleaning her legs up to make them look presentable. Instead, she looked up, and in doing so, she heard the man scream. It was rather pathetic. He was standing on the edge of the very small building. He had dropped the glass bottle.

“IS ANYBODY OUT THERE….?!”

In a minute, Kestral was on the roof behind the man, standing back about ten feet. He was panting (or maybe that was laughing coming from his lips) and smelled of liquor. A gust of wind, or maybe his own drunken stupor knocked him backwards onto the rooftop. He was still facing the other way, so he hadn’t yet noticed he wasn’t alone. Kestral observed the mess of the man before her with cold apathy, completely indifferent to the entire scene. As though it was the only fitting thing to say, Kestral opened her mouth and replied, “Yes. There are billions of people out there.” She cocked her head to one side, idly twirling the umbrella again as the wind blew. Her deep blue skirt fluttered a little, but stayed down.

She eyed him calmly, waiting for him to react. It had only been a second since she had spoken, but she continued as though there had been a long pause. “So why don’t you just jump?”

[Kenneth]

If he’d been standing on the ledge the shock of the sudden voice behind him probably would have sent him hurtling to the ground. As it was, he was already on the ground. He was laying flat on his back staring up at the sky, which was probably the safest place for him to be. Although the voice startled him, his position on the ground made it hard for any outward appearance of surprise to be evident.

He’d been completely unaware that he had company, and he idly wondered how long the woman had been there.

His head tilted backward so that he could get a look at the intruder; she was upside down in his mind, and he struggled to flip over so that he could look at her the right way up. He’d soon brought himself to his knees, before rising to his feet, upon which he was incredibly unsteady. He wobbled back a few paces so that he could lean against the ledge and provide himself with at least a little stability.

As soon as his vision cleared and his head stopped spinning, he contemplated the newcomer with avid interest. She was the kind of woman he could never hope to attain; he could try, but he’d never succeed. And she’d even answered that rhetorical question that he’d flung so carelessly into the open air.

“Yes, I know there are billions of people,” He retorted, like an offended child, “but how many of them are worth knowing?” He continued, hand raised with index finger erect, as if he were making a very pertinent point. He passed dozens of people on the street every day on his way to and from work. But they were all indifferent to him, indifferent to each other. The people in this day and age were like robots. Thus the question—is there anybody out there, really?

But of course, in his inebriated state, Kenneth lacked the coherence to explain all this to the bombshell of a woman in front of him—she wore the wind like it was an accessory, and there was blood adorning her smooth legs. Kenneth would have questioned that blood had it not been for her next query.

Why didn’t he just jump?

His eyes lit up and he grinned a mad grin, turning to face the world again. He glanced over his shoulder at her even as he was again clambering up onto the ledge.

“Do you want me to jump?” He asked. Her nature seemed cold, and he wondered whether she really cared or not. This was a very drunken attempt to find out.

[kestral]

“Yes, I know there are billions of people, but how many of them are worth knowing?”

Kestral could have laughed at his tone if she were in the mood. She was really just being sarcastic. Literally, what she said was true, so she supposed he hadn’t caught the sarcasm. So maybe he would still take her seriously. “You haven’t met everyone, therefore you don‘t know. And apparently you don’t want to anyway, so why does it matter?”

She watched him get up from off the ground, looking all disheveled and eccentric. Men, she thought, so easy. Men were all the same, with their urges and their inability to keep it together when times got rough. First thing a man did when he was pushed to the limit was break something in anger. Kestral had seen this first hand on several occasions. Now besides breaking the bottle, which maybe had been an accident and he’d just let it slip through his fingers, this man was trying to kill himself for some obviously unworkable serious reason.

Suicide. Although she had known some individuals who had taken their own life, (her Eric had tried to do that himself) and she felt pity for them, she also felt a sense of spite. Maybe those who had killed themselves had deserved it. It constituted Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest, even though it wasn't physically that the problem lied. It was all mental. So if those people who wanted to take their own life did so, people would grieve, but they’d all be thinking the same thing; the said person was ultimately weak. They couldn't work out their problem. She knew life was tough, but every problem had a solution, besides death of course. There was no escaping that problem. You just had to embrace it.

Suicidal people took the permanent resolution to a temporary problem. They couldn’t find one shred of self-respect, one single reason to live anymore. Kestral could understand if the person was old and in pain, say, dying of cancer. But people who committed suicide who were perfectly fine, people who were able to still make a difference and chose not to? Those were the people she disliked.

Narrowing her electric blue eyes, she focused on the man’s face as he got back up on the ledge, her expression still blank with the exception of her eyes. He laughed a little, looking back at her from his position.

“Do you want me to jump?”

Kestral cocked a blonde brow, taking a couple steps forward to get a better look at him. She looked up at him skeptically. “I don’t know you, and unlike many, I’m not one to waste my pity on the idiots of this world. I have very little pity,” That was the truth, and her face implied that too. “Anyway,” Kestral continued, closing the distance between him and her. She veered away from his position, making no indication of trying to stop him or any attempt to pull him back to safety. Instead, she walked a little ways down and jumped up on the ledge herself, only to take a seat on it. She dangled her feet over the edge, tucking her skirt down underneath her so it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“You won’t die. I mean, not quite so suddenly as you’re assuming you will. This drop would only severely injure you. First there will be a great deal of pain. All you’ll be able to taste is blood for a good few minutes, depending upon how you hit and what organs you puncture. I mean, there is a high chance you could break your back and feel nothing from your neck down, but you’ll still be conscious, and your head will throb and scream at you. Your last few minutes won’t be of peace, rather, they’ll be of utter agony. Agony as you just lie there and a puddle of your own blood seeps around you and you’ll regret jumping. Regret that you didn’t just get a pistol. And then you will finally, after what may seem like hours of pain, die,” Kestral said with absolute bluntness, keeping her eyes locked on his own.

“And who knows what comes after absolute death? I mean, there could be a heaven or there could be a hell. But then again, we could all just become reincarnated and start right back in the cycle of life’s unjustness. Or maybe we just go out like a flame, poof, the end. I don’t know though, what do you think?” Kestral asked kicking her feet over the ledge, tapping them against the building. She was being very serious, and if this human male was even slightly smart, he would get the hell off the ledge and go back to his miserable life.

[Kenneth]

Kenneth didn’t like that she called him an idiot. Well, she didn’t really say it outright, but she implied it. She told him she didn’t waste her time with the idiots of the world. His eyes were narrowed as he watched her, circling around to take her own position on the ledge.

Well, if she didn’t care, would she have stayed? Maybe she didn’t think he was an idiot after all.

His gaze swept from the woman and to the view of the city in front of him. It didn’t make him feel queasy looking at the horizon. He only started to feel queasy when he looked down. The cars parked on the street didn’t look too small, but they looked small enough to give away the true height of the building.

Of course the woman assumed he wanted to jump and that this was some idiotic suicide mission. But she was wrong. There was no point contradicting her, not really. She wouldn’t believe him. The only reason he was up here, standing precariously on the edge of the building, was to feel a little adrenaline. Nothing he ever did these days gave him an adrenaline rush. It was disappointing.

The woman continued to talk and Kenneth turned his wary gaze back to her. She explained what would happen if she jumped, and Kenneth knew it all already. But to have it told to him in such gruesome terms had him flinching and frowning; the alcohol churned in his stomach and when next he looked down he felt the particular need to hurl.

He gulped, and kept it down. He shook his head and awkwardly lowered himself so that he, too, was sitting on the edge. It felt better to sit down. Made him feel far less queasy than he had before. He took a deep breath, eyes wide and unfocused for a few moments, before he sighed and shrugged, body slumping in a dejected kind of way.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care to find out what comes after death.” He said. It was his way of telling her that he’d never really planned on jumping. What came after death… well, he’d never really thought about it.

“Life isn’t really unjust.” Now this, however, he had thought about. “It’s as Just as we make it out to be. It can just be incredibly…” He shook his head, trying to find the exact right word but settling on the only one that made sense, “boring.”

And then he was laughing again, continuing to shake his head; he’d immediately realised the flaw in his argument. If life was as Just as they made it out to be, than it certainly was as boring as they made it out to be. A person’s life is only boring if the person is boring. A boring life could always be changed. But Kenneth had never been able to achieve that. He was a complete failure in his own eyes.

“Maybe I should jump, you know? Maybe then things would get a little interesting. A little less boring.” He said. He chuckled, glancing sideways at the woman with a lazy perk of the brow. He was not being serious.

His eyes glazed over again in that unseeing way. He was again shaking his head. “I don’t want to die. I just want to…. live some more. You know?” He said. Never had he thought that this little escapade of his would lead to a philosophical conversation about life and death. But perhaps that was just what he needed.

[kestral]

Kestral watched as the man lowered himself into a sitting position, and it took her a moment to realize she had gone tense all over. Her fingers had been griping the ledge with an almost crushing strength. She released her firm hold on the ledge and instead clasped her hands in her lap, thinking that her tactic of gruesomely frank elaboration on jumping had possibly worked or at least calmed him down. However, there was no reason to get all worked up over a human. If he wanted to take his life, it meant nothing to her. She, who had taken the life of more humans than she could count, or care to remember. No, she was just being silly and she had the distinct feeling that before tonight was over she was going to be regretting coming up here.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care to find out what comes after death. Life isn’t really unjust. It’s as Just as we make it out to be. It can just be incredibly… boring.”

Well he had that right at least. But in Kestral’s slightly warped mind, the world was just a bad place in general. Why were some permitted to live while others were born only to die in some tragic way? Why was she still alive and allowed to freely take life like any other murderer? She disagreed with the man completely, but decided not to say so out loud. She wasn’t in a particularly debatable mood. And maybe just the way he started laughing had something to do with Kestral’s on edge mood. Perhaps if he didn’t jump, he would meet his end by her.

“Maybe I should jump, you know? Maybe then things would get a little interesting. A little less boring… I don’t want to die. I just want to…. live some more. You know?”

“We all want to live a little more. There just isn’t enough time. But isn’t that always the case though?” Kestral mused as she looked up at the pitch black sky. If it rained she was definitely not staying here for a longer little chit chat. At the thought of having to go back indoors, Kestral sighed, looking up at the sky with a hint of sadness. If he hadn’t been sitting there, Kestral probably would have started talking to herself. She imagined talking to the sky for a brief moment before remembering what they were talking about.

“If we all only had more, dot dot dot. Face it. If everyone got what they wanted, then the world would be full of selfish bastards and there would be no balance. Which of course is why there can be no true world peace. I think I’d die if everyone were always bubbling with happiness.” Kestral said with a sour expression. “But then I suppose not everyone can be a go-getter individual like myself,” She said with no hint of shame, “However I encourage people to try, because when they do… Well, then I guess they aren’t weak anymore, are they?”

Maybe she was babbling. It was quite possible. She couldn’t remember if she was even staying on topic, her mind was so far out there. Kestral was beginning to form an idea in her head anyway though. It would be just so funny to see this human’s reaction to her little stunt too. It might just make her night and put her in a better mood to see something more amusing happen.

[Kenneth]

Kenneth listened intently to the woman’s words. There’s no telling how many of them actually penetrated, and how many he actually understood. There were undertones there that he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t know the woman, so he couldn’t confirm nor deny whether or not she was a go-getter kind of person. He supposed he ought to believe her, though, seeing as she’d stated it about herself.

But there was one thing wrong with her arguments, if that’s indeed what they could be called.

Of course, in the end, it all boiled down to what Kenneth wanted. He supposed he could give her that much. But what he wanted didn’t equate to happiness. He didn’t want all his problems to go away. He didn’t want to own a large mansion, several cars, or have a hired staff to do his every whim. No, that could still be boring. That could still be very boring.

“But what if what you want isn’t happiness?” He said, blurting the words out before the thought had even become fully coherent in his mind.

“I don’t want to be completely happy, because complete happiness could still be dull. I want… an adrenaline rush. I want conflict. I want to get into trouble, and damn the consequences.” His eyes had again taken on the quality of a far-away look; sweat glistened on his brow, even though the night wasn’t even all that warm. It was no doubt an effect of the alcohol.

“But I guess that makes me weak. I could chase conflict, or cause it, but I haven’t. Not only does that make me weak, it probably makes me a coward too.” He said, sighing. “But it’s always about practicality, right? You gotta have a job. Gotta earn money, make a living, fit in with everyone else.” He shook his head. He really was pathetic. This whole adventure on the roof was no doubt due to how disappointed he was in himself.

He turned his eyes away from the view of the ground three stories below and back to the woman who’d joined him so spontaneously on the ledge. Really, if he were to go by her logic and her advice, he ought to get up, walk to the convenience store down the street and hold it up for all the money in the register. It would give him an adrenaline rush, it would give him conflict, and it would give him some consequences that he could damn.

Maybe he should just get a better job.

[kestral]

But what if what you want isn’t happiness? I don’t want to be completely happy, because complete happiness could still be dull. I want… an adrenaline rush. I want conflict. I want to get into trouble, and damn the consequences. But I guess that makes me weak. I could chase conflict, or cause it, but I haven’t. Not only does that make me weak, it probably makes me a coward too. But it’s always about practicality, right? You gotta have a job. Gotta earn money, make a living, fit in with everyone else.”

No, Kestral thought silently, what makes you weak is how you settle for only a little and you don’t seem to have a backbone. Any other time Kestral would have spoken out loud, but right now she just didn’t feel the need to crush this man’s already beaten little heart. The thought of his beating heart made Kestral’s teeth tingle, and her pupils to dilate to huge black orbs inside of her electric blue irises. She blinked while looking at him, trying to get herself to chill out. It wasn’t like she was hungry, she was just always thirsty, she thought with a little private smirk as she turned away.

“You want to know what’s a spectacular adrenaline rush?” Kestral purred. She was going to do this because she wanted to have a look at his incredulous face, and because it was fun. There was the minor difficulty of holding her skirts down, but that wouldn’t be too terribly embarrassing if she didn’t. She’d always been told she had nice legs. Kestral blinked again, bringing her drifting mind back to the here and now. She turned back to him, her eyes still wide and catlike, which they hadn’t been before a minute ago. Her two canine teeth were more pointy, but not extended as she smiled at him.

Grinning, she said, “Falling,” As soon as she said that, she flipped her body over the edge of the building, heading straight for the pavement feet down. Her blonde hair flew behind her in a wave of gold as she let out a laugh. Then the pavement hit her feet. Deliberately, she let her knees follow, and then the rest of her body. As it hit the ground, she felt a few inner things in her body shoot with pain, but it was dulled in an instant as her healing started up automatically.

Kestral could have easily made that jump plus ten stories more to the ground and landed perfectly intact on her two feet, however, she was going to play a game with the little human man. She was going to play him in an otherwise serious situation - for a human. So she lay there careful to keep completely still, waiting for the man to come rushing down and ‘try to help her’.

Trouble was, Kestral couldn’t quite decide what she was going to do with him after that. Was she going to launch up and grab him, tilt his head to the side and bite? Something bothered her about killing him so quickly. Or was she going to… what? Explain that he’d just met the legend, the myth, the horror films face to face? She tried to decide while he took his sweet time getting to her.

[Kenneth]

Kenneth leant closer to the woman, almost as if the two of them were participating in some kind of conspiratorial discussion. Yes, of course he wanted to know what a good adrenaline rush was. Something that wasn’t standing on the ledge of a building that wasn’t overly-tall, while slightly drunk. So far, he hadn’t got much of an adrenaline rush while up here. It was a complete failure.

He couldn’t really see much of the woman. He knew that the planes of her face were attractive, that her hair was blonde, and that her voice was deep and just that tiny bit enticing. The dim light of the street lights below drifted upward to only highlight certain things, though they provided more shadow than clarity.

It was only due to the brilliant flash of lightning that Kenneth caught sight of her bright, wild eyes. She had something up her sleeve, and it had him frowning in consternation. Should he be worried?

But then the light was gone, and she uttered that single word that had Kenneth’s heart leaping into his throat; falling.

The alcohol slowed his reaction, else he might have been able to catch her arm. Instead, he grasped at thin air as his voice caught in his throat. He’d attempted to shout No!, to keep her from doing anything rash. But his voice had no chance of escape. The blood drained from his face as she plummeted to the ground—he flinched as she hit the pavement below.

Her description of the complete and utter pain that one would experience if they jumped from this height came rushing back with force. Why the hell should she warn him against jumping, and then go ahead and do it herself?! He could hardly believe what she’d done, and he was blinking in utter shock and bewilderment. He leant forward, watching her unmoving form, as if expecting her to get up and walk away. But she didn’t.

It had him scrambling back over the ledge and onto the roof—running toward the fire escape, which would get him to the ground quicker than the internal staircase and the inevitable disruption of his path by someone working late.

He took the very narrow stairs, which ought to better be described as a ladder, very slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was fall himself, which was a worrisome probability. The alcohol inhibited his coordination, and he could see himself missing a step and losing his grasp. At one point, he had to pause and take a deep breath, as the world started to spin madly around him. He cursed himself for consuming the whole bottle.

When he finally reached the cement of the pavement, the heavy drops of rain started to fall. They were slow, and far between, but they helped to spur him onward.

He finally skidded to a halt beside the woman, dropping to his knees, instinctually bringing his hand to her neck to feel for a pulse.

“Hey, hey! Can you hear me?!” He shouted at her, pressing two fingers into the flesh of her neck where he assumed the pulse would be.

[kestral]

While Kestral lay unmoving on the pavement three stories below where she had previously been sitting on the ledge, her mind wandered. She had never really done anything like this before, and never had she expected to be in this particular situation. It wasn’t like she committed a fake suicide every so often to jerk people’s chains. Nor had she really ever thought she’d be the one ‘committing suicide’.

So it felt almost awkward to lie there as she did with her cheek pressed against the cold concrete surface of the sidewalk and concentrate very hard on neither blinking or flinching even a fraction of an inch. It had occurred to her that she was laying on some broken glass as well as the dirty pavement, numb to the very slight pains. But she figured that this would be worth it in some sweet rewarding way, somehow.

As she felt a few cold drops of water hit her, she could have gasped in exasperation. Kestral had no idea where her umbrella that she had previously been twirling around her wrist had been flung to, and now it was raining. The rain spoiled all of her fun, she thought, tempted to pout as more drops hit some of her bare flesh. Just then however, the man appeared. She knew when he drew near because she could feel his heat, as well as the fact that she had heard every step he had taken down the fire escape to get to her. His reaction was just what she had planned out in her head, she thought a little smugly, though still unsure of what to do with the human.

Of course he asked her in rather panicked tones if she could hear him. Well actually, she could, unbeknownst to him. As he bent over her supposedly broken frame, Kestral’s blue eyes remained staring straight ahead of her blankly, her blonde hair trailing across her eyes, partially obscuring her vision. She saw his hand descend towards her neck and press down. The warmth meeting the cold sent a sweet shiver down Kestral’s spine and her hand shot up to grab his wrist in a lightning quick movement. Her grasp was tight, probably even a little painful for him, as well as shocking.

Blinking her catlike eyes, Kestral flicked her gaze over to the man, her pink lips twisting into a sneaky little smile. She kept a firm hold on his wrist, releasing some of the pressure as she sat up, using her free hand to brush her hair back into place as she smiled up at him a little coyly.

“What’s the matter?” Kestral asked innocently, tilting her head to one side, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Her voice was almost catlike itself, each word more of a purr than actual words though they were clear. In the dark, the man probably couldn’t see much, but her fangs had run out a little, slightly protruding from her upper lip, indenting upon her lower one.

Deciding to just release him because he was easily enough caught again, Kestral dropped her hold on his wrist and stretched her arms up in the air as if she were just waking up. She was still kneeling on some glass shards, but that was of no concern to her as she zeroed in on the human in front of her. She giggled a little bit as she watched him. Her smile never left her lips as she waited for his next movements. If he ran, she would be on him in an instant, but if he stayed and faced her, Kestral might actually find some use for this young man.

[Kenneth]

He was almost certain she was dead. All her talk of not being subject to death at so short a drop had been for naught. Her broken body was proof that the three-story drop could indeed prove fatal. Or, at least Kenneth was beginning to think.

His train of thought was struck suddenly from his head, however, as her hand swiftly reached forward to grasp at his wrist. The movement had him jumping nigh out of his skin, a yelp falling from his lips as he fell backward and onto his backside. She still grasped his wrist, however, and his face crumpled into a flinch of pain; if she grasped any tighter, she may just snap a bone. He stared at her in wonderment, ignoring the pain...just enough to wonder how she could possibly possess the strength to hold him in such a way, especially after dropping from such a height. He put it down to adrenaline.

His eyes narrowed as she asked her question, and he shook his head. His mouth had fallen open to utter a reply, but none came. He was speechless. What could he say? The light was till dim and dark—they were far enough away from any streetlights that the woman was almost thrown into silhouette. But as she moved, as she spoke, Kenneth could have sworn he saw a glint of light glancing off of lengthened canine teeth. But he blamed the alcohol, and his imagination which had now been thrown into overdrive.

She then released her hold on his wrist and he snatched his hand back, not knowing whether he should run or stay put. If he chose to run, he doubted he’d get very far. His sense of direction and his balance were greatly hindered by the alcohol. She hardly looked as if she posed him any immediate threat, however. She looked like a doll, awakening from slumber. How could he possibly harness enough fear of this wonderful woman?

Instead, he rearranged himself on the pavement beside her, shifting one leg beneath him so that he could lean against the opposite knee.

“What...who are you?” He asked, the words a whisper of awe. His balance wavered and he leant his hand upon the pavement to keep from toppling over again. There was still glass, there, from where he’d dropped the empty bottle of alcohol. He’d failed to notice it as he stared at the woman, and thus pressed his palm unwittingly into a stray shard. It easily pierced the skin, and Kenneth hissed as he finally registered the pain. He shifted his weight beneath him and raised his palm to the air, surveying the damage. It was just a scratch, but the blood bubbled easily to the surface.

[kestral]

The man gasped at Kestral’s awakening and attempted to scramble back if not for the hold she had had on his wrist. It was amusing to her, but what was even more amusing and intriguing was the fact that as she released him, he stayed. She had to admit, part of her was disappointed he didn’t run, partly because she wanted to get up out of the uncomfortable position, and partly because a chase would be fun. A chase would be a game of cat and mouse, or more, a lioness and a mouse.

Kestral’s opinion on humans had been warped since first coming to this city. Meeting Malkavian and being plunged into this whole new experience was enough to drive anyone a little loopy. But something about the entire ordeal had just snapped something inside after a while, and her bitterness she took out on humans. At first it was all of her frustration and anger, but afterwards it had become a game. Luring in humans and making false sentiments until she tired of them all.

Kestral had once had a childe of course, to see what it was like, but they had been out of contact with their sire for too long, and Kestral tired of an evasive underling. Until lately, she hadn’t even wanted another nuisance to deal with in her life. Until now, she thought as she looked at the man sitting before her. So ordinary, so easily manipulated, so easily broken. However, he might be of some use, and he could potentially be a sweet little companion. Shini might even like him, she mused.

“What...who are you?”

That wasn’t quite the question Kestral had been expecting, so in response, she returned the question, only the way she felt it should have been asked, “Don’t you mean what am I?” Kestral inquired sweetly.

The man shifted, and the scent of his blood was immediately in her senses, making her teeth throb a little painfully although she wasn’t incredibly thirsty. He let out a little hiss of pain and raised his hand in front of him, directly in front of her. The tiny scratch on his palm brought a delightful crimson color to the surface of his skin, and that was the only thing she craved, little did the man know.

Still holding her smile in place, Kestral reached for his wrist again, quick as a cobra, pulling his hand towards her, all the while keeping her smile intact. She brought his palm towards her mouth, her tongue flicked out over the small wound and brought the taste of his blood to her lips. Kestral’s eyes closed briefly as she savored the small taste, then relinquished his wrist again. As her eyes opened, she tilted her head towards the streetlight nearby, illuminating half of her face for him deliberately. Her two canines were fully elongated now, sharp and long and very real there in her mouth.

“I’m Kestral,” she murmured, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He had asked who she was, so now he had an answer, whether he liked it or not. His adrenaline rush was working, though more than likely not in the way he had wanted, she thought coyly. The rain continued to lightly fall, not bothering Kestral as much as if it started pouring. Then she would want to drag this man somewhere else and finish this, in whatever way that may be. Though she was sure it might not exactly be in his favor, only hers.

[Kenneth]

Yeah, he’d mean to ask ‘what’ she was. But even though he’s just seen her fall from a great height and land with no injuries whatsoever, and although he was completely baffled as to how she had done it, he still harboured a sense of propriety and manners. Asking what she was would have been rude. Like she was just an object, an inanimate thing. She obviously wasn’t an inanimate thing. She was...

Kestral.

And Kestral liked the taste of blood. Kenneth gasped again as she pulled his bleeding palm toward her—either he was seeing things, or her reflexes were far faster than any person’s reflexes ought to be. He surely didn’t have the reflexes to avoid her grasp. His jaw fell slack and his eyes widened as her tongue flicked at the wound. She was nuts!

It was only when she deliberately turned her face to the light that Kenneth’s imagination started running wild. Her canines were elongated, while her skin was cold and pale—she liked the taste of blood, and she had survived the fall from the top of this building without any injuries at all. Of course Kenneth had seen the movies and read the myths. Vampire. At first he wouldn’t believe it; the notion was ridiculous. Vampires didn’t exist! It was rational to believe that they didn’t exist, of course.

But Kenneth had worked on the obituaries for too long to allow his rationality to have the only say in the matter. This city was notorious for its deaths. Kenneth had seen the statistics. No other city had as many deaths in a night, and Kenneth was willing to bet the deaths in RavenBlack city were more mysterious than most.

While all this information tumbled uncomfortably around in his weary head, Kenneth massaged his wrist. His heart raced, and the fear threatened to overwhelm him; this woman could harm him, she could kill him when he had never wanted to die. But he didn’t run. Instead, he leant forward again, careful to avoid the glass this time.

“Kestral...what are you? And...” He cleared his throat, glanced around the empty sidewalk, before returning his avid gaze to her, “How does one become like you?” He murmured under his breath; he was still doubtful of the conclusion he’d come to, and the last thing he wanted to do was indulge this woman’s crazy.

But he also couldn’t help but think she’d come up onto that roof for a reason. That all this was supposed to happen. As if Kenneth’s silent prayers had been answered, and his life was finally about to change, to become that little bit more exciting. And well, in the end, who cares whether he indulged her crazy? At the end of it, he was sure he’d be able to crawl home again, to curl up under the covers of his bed and resign himself to the life he’d made.

[kestral]

Kestral blinked a few times, taking in his wide-eyed expression as he absorbed her in the faint light of the lamp. She waited for him to say something, anything. The silence was stiff, a little stressed, and slightly absurd. Just sitting there on the cool pavement, staring at this man was odd enough, but his next inquiry was ever odder.

“Kestral...what are you? And… How does one become like you?”

She tilted her head to the side, the corner of her mouth twitching a little with some unknown emotion. She was trying to think of something to say that would be witty and at the same time, the right answer. She scooted away from him slightly, and stood up. Kestral’s hands brushed at her skirts, her eyes cast down in the shadow, not looking at him sitting there, obviously waiting for an answer.

Kestral surveyed her bloodied legs with distaste. She needed a shower as soon as this business was finished. This business however, was what was important at the moment and she needed to figure it out quickly. With a sigh, she glanced down at him, almost glaring though he probably couldn’t even see the planes of her face, let alone her eyes in the shadow.

“And what makes you think,” she began, crossing her arms while waiting for him to stand up, “that you are worthy of such a…” She couldn’t really call immortality a gift, nor a curse. “…privilege?”

“After all, isn’t it obvious? The movies got a few things right I suppose.” Kestral continued. She still didn’t know what she was getting into with this kid, but it sort of excited her. To have a childe was to have both a burden and a… curse.

Her lips twitched slightly at the corners at the thought. So this boy sitting before her was both a curse and a burden? Where was the positive? No, she battled with her mind silently, to have a childe was a burden and a treasure. A pleasure. At times. And sometimes even useful.

[Kenneth]

She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she seemed only to stare at him, as if his question had caught her off guard. Maybe it had. It had Kenneth wondering whether he should instead have tried to get up and run away. Perhaps it was just his inebriated state of mind that was numbing the fear he should have been feeling. But no, he refused to think that. He was at least sober enough to question his own sanity, so he was sober enough to know he was making the same decision he would have made had he not been drinking at all. He was probably just doing so with less grace.

Kestral stood, surveyed her own body, and sighed before finally answering Kenneth’s question—if you could really call it an answer. Instead, she seemed to want Kenneth to prove himself to her. And though he couldn’t see her face he could hear it in her tone; what gave him the right to ask such a question?

Well, it didn’t matter much. Kenneth had already made up his mind. If he walked away from this encounter still human (if he lived at all, mind) he had a feeling his every waking moment from that night forth would be spent hunting down someone of Kestral’s kind, someone who would give him this privilege, as she called it, if Kestral would not.

“I didn’t ask you for it, I just asked how it was done.” He said as he, too, scrambled to his feet and brushed away any excess glass or dirt from his hands and backside. She’d said that the movies had at least got some things right. What did that mean, though? Kenneth had only seen a couple of episodes of Buffy, and maybe a really old version of Dracula. Did she just have to bite him once? Did she have to mite him three times over an elongated period of time? Did he have to die, be buried, and dig himself out of a grave? He shuddered at the thought, but it was hardly enough to scare him away from his decision.

He didn’t really want to explain himself to her, either. He didn’t want to have to tell her that his life was dead boring and that he’d do anything to be able to start fresh, to be given a completely different life. It was obvious, wasn’t it?

“But suppose I was asking. If you won’t do it, I’ll just...find someone else who will.” He said, taking a step toward her, and then another step as if to go around her. By God, he wanted this. He didn’t think of the consequences, but then he didn’t really care about them.