Chapter 2

COWARD?

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After listening to the rest of the messages Iris had showered, put on night clothes, and brushed her teeth, now sitting contemplating the things in her life. Such as things that needed doing or where things were going. 

It was a horror show trying to figure out trying to suddenly adult on your own when you haven't been taught any kind of skill with a such new task. Especially if it hasn't been long since your last days of high school, It was good that Iris wholeheartedly was open to learning anything she needed to know whether it meant budgeting or more work hours.

After a couple of minutes of spiraling thoughts, she turned on the television.   She needed something to take her mind off the troubles at large in her life. Bills were, of course, one of those troubles not to mention how they have to get up early in the morning to run a couple of errands, without a car no less.

A while after, Ingrained into the television she started to hear loud music next door. It was a normal event, a common case of a really loud neighbor. What they would do at least once a week is turn up their music, get drunk, and blab about a bunch of conspiracy theories. 

At first, it drove Iris crazy….catch the emphasis on at first, but she was quickly able to get used to it, in a way it was comforting it kept her from the quiet so she didn't drown in the craziness in her head. So she just turned up the tv and went along with her business falling asleep.

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In the neighboring home, there was an old man sitting on a dirty tan couch, his face was caked in some dirty substance, craggy lines decorating his hatchet face, and dark clothes a bit torn. 

He was paunchy, very round in the belly area and his skin was pasty. The man looked as if he spent a good portion of his life drinking.

The home itself looked terrible. It was a mess everywhere, the wood floor is filled with many crumbs and rappers. The piles of dirty dishes sat on the counter and in the kitchen sink, and there were old take-out boxes all over the coffee table. You can't imagine the bathroom.

 If you were to go to the man's room you would see an unmade bed with a dirt pile of clothes at the head of the mattress. A cross hung on the door and dozens of papers in every direction were scattered across the floor.

The old man seemed panic-stricken and ill. He sat faced directly at the door. His gaze now and then darted around the room. "Come on…come on you beast." he slurred quietly to himself.

His name is Thomas Roder and unfortunately.…. he is about to die a terrible death.

With that thought, there was a large crash.  It came from the right-side window of the living room. The glass had burst through the air. Shards flew across the room as if a ball of wind had hit the huge window. As the room filled with a shadowy mist. The Brume had overflowed the home. It went quiet. As the atmosphere went heavy. 

You'd think a dust bowl had somehow come through the living room by the looks of it.

Thomas's breath was short-winded as he spoke. "Show yourself, you coward." 

Out of the mist emerged a man, or something close to the likeness of one. "Coward? Really? Not even a hi or hello?" they teased with a smile standing just a few feet away from Thomas."Oh, Tommy, so this is where you've been hiding…..it reeks you know how I HATE mess. Now onto business you know what I'm here for, give it to me and I will be gone." He ordered with a smile on his face. His head held strong and his entire posture intimidated the sickly man.

"There is nothing to give, I don't take orders from your kind." With that the man laughed and walked directly in front of Thomas, leaning down so they were face-to-face "Really? You don't remember in your much younger times where you would do anything for me….and I mean anything." he whispered suggestively.

"That was a long time ago. I didn't know any better, I've improved myself. "Thomas responded, "You call this an improvement. Plus that's not what it seemed like, especially when you thought you killed me. But I'm here on business, not emotion so on with it." He blurted as he backed away from Thomas. "Now you're gonna give me what I want. OR I'm gonna rip that head of yours off." He offered 

"Go ahead, I don't have it with me," Thomas breathed out. "You'll never be able to get away with th-" 

Thomas's head was held in the air by the cruel individual as he smiled wildly. "You could have done better than that, the poor thing you used to be so pretty, that is until  you let yourself go." He let the bloody head fall on the ground with a large thump. They took out a cigarette and fancy silver lighter, lighting one and pocketing the other. "I do wish you had put  more of a fight though…pity." His voice was deep and tongue silvery, they were tall with broad shoulders. His hair was short and slicked back with gel which made his black hair look shiny. 

His skin was a warm white, and his suit contrasted as it was black. Eyes were malignant and dark. As for his thoughts they were filled with the deepest ill intent. They, of course, were a….vampire and very much ready to do anything they can to get what they want. 

As for the girl next door she was fast asleep and she didn't know what was coming as a new world was about to be introduced…let's see what happens next.

Compunction 

a feeling of uneasiness or anxiety of the conscience caused by regret for doing wrong or causing pain.