Chapter 1
Pain is never permanent, that’s something I learned a long time ago, even if I don’t believe it most of the time. Even with the numbing sound of the tattoo gun was enough to take my mind off the pain in my arm. The stinging burn of the lines being drawn over with the creatively crafted machine at the artist’s feet reminded me we weren’t here for me.
Looking over at my baby brother, I could tell he wasn’t dealing with it as he tried to make his strained face look like he was. The longer I stared, the greener he looked, this was his idea, I reminded him before we walked through the doors of the shop. It wasn’t easy finding this place, most shops have been outlawed - they give humans too much freedom - at least that’s what we’ve been told. But my brother, he’s always been a bit reckless, but I’ve always been behind him.
When the artist finally finished, I looked down at my arm to see the intricate design of the trees we agreed upon before even entering the shop tonight. He was adamant that it had to be this design, that it would show the new regime that we shouldn’t be messed with. It took hours, but I was able to convince him to have it in a place we could cover-up, just in case. But that’s just how Grey is, he goes after anything he wants, damn the consequences. While I will always love him for that, it’s going to get him killed one day, especially in times such as these.
When creatures that seek the life force of humans roam the cities, there isn’t much you can do. Hiding, keeping yourself small and covered, making sure you don’t rub the wrong people the wrong way, all these things should work. It doesn’t always work. There have been more missing people turning up every day. People have stopped looking for them, they know who took them and they know what’s happened to them. Either they were killed for their blood, sucked dry, or they were turned. Maybe even drained and then turned, just depends on the vampire.
Looking up, my brother waved his good arm around showing me that he was finished before me. I watched him hand the artist the money before walking out the shop door for a breath of fresh air, I assumed. Watching my own artist, the last of the lines were finishing up before they spray some green soap on my arm and gently wiped it down. They applied a bit of ointment before letting me see the final product. Seeing the finished art in the mirror was astonishing. The way they were able to take our idea off a page and sew it into my skin, it was amazing.
I quickly paid the man and took my leave to be with my brother, we needed to compare the tattoos before heading home to disappoint our mother together.
“Zath!” I could hear Grey shouting my name from the other side of the road. It looks like he stopped to refill his pen before taking a few tokes. Our mother hated that thing. She would always tell him, even if it’s only water vapor that he could electrocute himself just as well. Grey didn’t believe her, but it also meant that he did it more. If someone hates what he’s doing, he just does it harder, as I said before, that was just Grey.
“How’s your arm?” I asked him while waving the cloud of vapor away from my face. The white plumes consumed me to the point that I had to walk away toward the side of the bridge we found ourselves on.
“Hurts like a bitch, what about yours?”
“Bout the same, was your guy chatty? Mine was. Told me about this place just under the bridge. An illegal rally. Says there should be mineral booze and a bit of fighting. Not sure what to make of it, but it sounds like a good place to get caught.”
Looking out to the lake stretched in front of us, the edge of the bridge’s side dug into my arms. It was cold tonight, I should have brought my jacket.
“We’re going then, right? You know it’s going to be an awesome party if they’re able to get mineral booze in this police state.” I didn’t have to look over at Grey to know that he was grinning like the bastard he is. I didn’t have to think much on the subject at all. I knew we would go to the party, I knew we would get into a mess of trouble, but I also knew that it would be as fun as he’s saying. The question is, what would we tell mom when we got home.
“If we go, it’s your turn to make something up to mom, I did it last time,” I told him with a straight face making sure he knew I wasn’t joking.
“Awe, man, you know she never believes me. She can always tell when I’m lying!” He complained and I kept my stance. If he was ever going to get anywhere around here, he needed to work on his skills. Lying was the name of the game around here and if you weren’t good at it, you either get got by the cops, or something much worse.
“Fine, I’ll work on the story during the party. Let’s go already,” he growled at me while shoving his vape pen in his jeans pocket. I did a quick sweep of the area we were walking and found my pace walking after him shortly after he started for the side stairs on the bridge.
