9 Restart

Iris was irritated, though she should of felt worse. It had started when she had came to work. The people there all seemed to try to avoid her, though she wasn't sure why. She knew her face still felt flushed sure but that couldn't have meant much. Whenever she tried to talk to one of them they would either back away immediately or after smelling the air around her.

About halfway through the day she was called to speak with the manager. They kept their office open the whole time as they told her as clearly as possible that she was fired. It had been due to recent odd behavior as well as 'signs' they were seeing, again she had no idea what they meant. She felt like she took it very well, given the thought that went through her head at the time. As was customary they gave Iris her last paycheck and sent her on her way. She would need to find another job, she doubted it be easy.

Every job one ever did was linked to their file. Sure her other jobs had gone fine but still this would affect her negatively. Iris considered taking a break to clear the air, but she didn't exactly have the funds to do so. A man passed by as she pondered this, a piece of paper flying out of his pocket and landing in front of her. She waited a minute before reaching down to pick it up. It looked like a cheap flier so she doubted the man miss it. She was not wrong.

The flier advertised an end to ones issues. It said that for one last fee they wouldn't need to worry about bills, family, work, anything ever again. They could even get a drink if they liked. On the other side it advertised fresh food and drink for 'particular folks'. It even said they could come see the source. Iris had heard vaguely of places like this before.

It was an advertisement for what was known as a suicide bar. Around the time false blood had been invented laws on ending one's life had become less strict, under the assumption that someone who could live forever might not want to. Statistically though to her knowledge more humans had taken the offer than vampires. Some businesses like said suicide bars even sprung up to capitalize on it, though she was sure they had existed beforehand to some degree.

Iris pocketed the piece of paper. She doubted such a place be useful for her. She continued to walk home. Her face began to feel less flushed as well, making her true emotions stronger. She was now angry at her old workplace. They had no right to fire her, at least morally she thought. Legally they had every right too but still. She reached her house and slammed the door on the way in.

The piece of paper flew out of her pocket, landing in front of her. She picked it up to make sure it didn't get stained, her floor wasn't much better than that cave after all. The backside advertising drinks for certain persons caught her eye again. She knew what it meant, most people did if they knew what such a place was. Someone had to get rid of the results after all.

She tore the page up, balling up the remains and throwing them at a wall. She was furious now, though she didn't know why. She bashed the walls and swore about whatever came to mind, not that any of it mattered. All the while her arm started to ache again, differently this time. It called to Iris directly, in a voice that was not hers. In a fit she bashed it against a wall too.

Like most times images flashed to her mind, as well as pain. She saw herself standing over herself. The her who laid on the floor could not move, and she couldn't feel anything through that body, though she could see. The her that could move however slowly approached, fangs bared. After that was only violence, which she couldn't fully comprehend. Then came regret, but that wasn't part of the images. That was in the present sitting on a stained floor.

* * *

Iris had left the house with everything that actually mattered to her, which wasn't much. She had tried to drink the last few bottles in her fridge but ended up dropping them blindly like the days before. She was heading to where the scraps of paper said that bar was. She had a few goals in mind. The place looked more like a beaten up shack than a business, though it wasn't all that small to be fair.

Walking in the place felt sad, though it smelled alright for reasons already discussed. The place had one bar which a masked person stood behind, across from the door. Opposite that was one long row of restaurant booths, most looked old and worn. There were many people here, some talking to each other in opposing tones. Some of the people had drinks while others watched those who had them in a way that reminded Iris of vultures.

The man behind the counter was watching her, mostly her face. She suspected he was trying to figure out why she was here. Of course he could be wrong based off looks alone but he would most likely be right statistically speaking. She walked up to the bar, looking at the masked man. The mask looked more like a beat up metal helmet than anything, the sort knights might wear.

The what Iris assumed was a barkeeper asked her an odd question, "Front or back? I'm assuming back," At first she was confused until he pointed to a flier that had been left on the bar.

She replied now, "um actually I would like to ask some questions," The barkeeper turned around and muttered to himself.

He turned back around and spoke more directly, "look if your one of those protesters get out now, I get enough of you coming in here and telling me I'm a-"

Iris interrupted him, "I'm not here to protest," While she was half lying she rather he talk, "I was just curious about something... a bit odd." He leaned in and Iris tried to think of how to phrase her question.

"If it's about just getting a drink I can do that, though you look like you puke it up," If she was any other kind of vampire that of been rude but he was kind of right, "If your here for the back then it's literally advertised, just ask for the back." Iris faked a breath, to which the barkeeper replied with a louder forced sigh.

"actually I was curious, do you have like a box I could live in, like in a closet or something," Iris had gotten used to people laughing at her dumb ideas but the barkeeper here grabbed the chin part of his helmet instead. Either he had heard that before or this was a new kind of insult.

"Legally no I can't," he leaned in, whispering, "but listen come round back in an hour we can maybe work something out," he leaned back again, "is there anything I can legally get you." Some part of her wanted to say 'the back' then the part that wasn't a monster slapped that part mentally and thought for a moment. It then caught her that he hadn't explicitly said no to her idea.

A bit caught off guard she asked, "umm... can I talk to the patrons," He shrugged.

"knock yourself deader I guess," he messed with something behind the counter for a moment, "Again in an hour."

* * *

Iris was walking around back of the bar now. She had talked to the patrons of the bar but nothing much had come of it. Every so often two people went back and one left or someone else came, either to drink or to stare at those drinking. She had talked to a few of the drinkers, none seemed to give much thought to what she said. She didn't see the man who dropped the flier either. While the building was long it was not very deep, meaning getting around to the back side took little movement. The back was in an alleyway and had only one entry door.

On entering she found that it smelled more like the cave than anywhere modern. It didn't look like the cave however, actually containing a table and various cupboards. The bartender was back here as well, sitting at one end of the table. He motioned to the side opposite himself and Iris sat down.

He began to speak immediately, "So why are you looking for a closet to stay in?" Iris began to think of an answer. Maybe she should say it was so she could lay low for cheaper than an apartment, but that might sound like she committed a crime. Maybe she could say that all she really needed was that much space, vampires not needing much comfort after all.

He didn't let her answer though, "If I had to guess, and I am usually right when I guess back here, you got fired for odd behaviors only true blood drinkers would exhibit. Obviously however it must have been an accident, given how you weren't drooling over my patrons," He took a break to chuckle to himself, "and now you just packed up and want to hide."

Iris was honestly speechless. He had guessed things she herself didn't want to admit. Not only that he had guessed things that couldn't have been very clear. Her head didn't feel very heavy either so her thoughts couldn't of been being read as far as she knew. The bartender seemed to get her current frame of mind however as he nodded his head.

Iris began to stammer, "N-no I mean yea but no..." He reached a hand across the table.

"Can I see your arm? I have noticed something recently with you sorts," Iris, still a bit stunned complied. He grabbed her arm and looked at it for a bit, mainly at the wrist. He let go and grabbed his chin again, well where his chin would be if he didn't have that helmet on. Iris just sat there looking at her hand.

"Only one," He stroked his helmet, "Well that's less than normal but it's still about right. I would have guessed a few, maybe three." Iris stammered no at him a few more times and he chuckled again.

"Listen I have been at this for a while," He grabbed something from under the table, "while I can't exactly hide someone legally living in my closet I can, though it's in a gray area, keep the body of a dead one," Iris did not like where that thought was going, though he didn't seem to be holding anything too dangerous, just a small screwdriver set.

"What does that mean?" in response to her question he put the screwdriver set and a bag full of electrical parts on the table.

He spoke now, "Whenever someone dies here I need to legally declare them dead and remove the location chip from their pho-"

Iris interrupted "Well everyone knows that." It was common knowledge that everyone was being tracked always. Legally everyone was required to own a phone, each one having a 'location chip' as the barkeeper had called it. In fact you could legally fire or arrest someone for being in certain areas or with one that was inactive for too long... Iris slapped herself as she realized why she may have been fired, or at least one of the reasons.

He chuckled and continued, "Fair, fair. Well I could technically mark you as legally dead. Then it wouldn't matter where you slept. I hope you understand what it would mean if you were dead of course." Iris honestly only had a vague idea. Vampires were UN-dead sure but that was more a formality than anything else. Technically they still processed information like a living being and so it more referred to how their body worked. Iris had never been dead a day in her life, she had never been alive either.

"Somehow I don't think you do," Iris nodded," basically anything that requires the government's help would be off-limits to you," She knew what he meant by that but he continued anyhow, "you know like that drink I hear your kind complaining about sometimes."

Iris chipped in, "I can't exactly drink that anymore..." The barkeeper just shrugged. They sat there for a minute after that. Iris assumed the bartender was giving her time to think. She didn't get all of what he said, to be sure, but she got the gist of it. She would basically be a criminal, assuming they found her. But at least they wouldn't know where she was anymore, not that it had ever bothered her before.

A thought hit Iris, "How do you know I'm not a cop?" The barkeeper laughed at that and pulled out a black box of some kind.

"Well for one they never come over here, and they don't care either as long as no one who didn't want it doesn't die. And if you told them I have a recording of everything said here, old tech so they can't just ask a phone either. Room's lead-lined as well, your phones been disconnected for a while." Iris checked and he was correct, no signal.

He got up now and posed sarcastically, "So what do you say, you want to be dead?" Iris got what he meant though she didn't find it funny.

Iris began to speak and he sat down again, "I mean if there isn't a reason to I can't image it be a good idea... what would it cost to live in a closet exactly?"

He coughed and spoke, "Well usually it depend but some oddball came through today and made it 223 a month," That happened to be exactly what Iris had to her name now.

Iris spoke, "What do you mean?"

"Well this guy came in, told me he dropped a flier for some coated female, told me there story and paid me a sum under the assumption they try to stay here," Iris was concerned, " I didn't turn him down but it was odd, guess he was right." Iris muttered under her breath. Finally she came to a conclusion.

"Can I have some time to think?"

* * *

Iris had walked home after that. While she had looked to lay low it was probably best to not fake death, especially since she was planning to return to her life later. The distance between there and her house was only an hour so it wasn't a huge loss. She still had a few hours till she needed to sleep so she could even change her mind, if that barkeeper was willing.

She was about to her home when she noticed something odd. A car that she didn't recognize, a white vehicle with writing on the side and a red and blue light. She could see her door from here and she hadn't remembered leaving it open. She approached her door carefully. When she got closer she began to hear voices. They were describing her home.

The first one noted that it was very bloody, like someone had been very inaccurate. The second noted how the blood was in pools, like someone had experience. The first decided that they had experience somewhere but were lacking otherwise. The second seemed to back out of the door slightly and Iris saw something on his side.

It was a kit, a needle and a vial laid inside, with a meter on the vial that counted numerically as well as a light. Iris recognized that kit. They were used to figure out how many people's blood was in a mixture, as well as if any substitute was present. She had no idea how they worked but she knew they were bad news if they came to her house.

Iris finally realized the police had come to her home, for whatever reason. No, she knew why they were here: her phones chip and her odd behavior the last week. She tried to walk away quietly. They kept talking about their thoughts on her house, the last one she heard was them mentioning her legal name. Iris passed the cop car and, after looking back and making sure they weren't poking their heads out, began to run. Iris ran as fast as she could.

After an hour of running, where luckily the police hadn't stopped her, she burst into the bar. The bartender didn't seem all the bothered though as he cleaned a cup. she continued to run until she hit the bar. Again the bartender didn't seem to react, not even glancing at her. She took a moment to catch herself and finally the bartender looked up.

"So have you thought about it," He only seemed to be half interested.

Iris replied quickly, "Yes, I am dead"