The flat I'd rented was small and poky, but it was mine.
I'd moved to a different town, miles away from where I was before, determined that I could go into hiding and none could find me. Not Sally, or Martin, her vile boyfriend. Part of me wishes I'd killed him when I had the chance, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
I'd gotten a job at a bar, meaning I could stay up all night and sleep most of the day if I wanted to. Not that I did, I just seemed to read and study Spanish, my new hobby. It was Friday night, and I knew it was going to be heaving. I had my hair in a messy bun, my eyes circled with coal black eye liner which made my eyes pop out. I'd eaten fairly sparsely, but I was getting good at hunting animals. I didn't like attacking humans, it just made me feel horrifically guilty for days after, but if I did, I tried to go for the dregs of society- the rapists and women beaters.
I pulled on my skinny jeans and Quinns vest- the only thing I had that reminded me of him. He hadn't come looking for me, and I was grateful. I didn't need him in my life- he had made me feel things I didn't want to feel.
I grabbed my cross body bag, and shut off the lights in my room before heading downstairs. My motorbike was waiting for me in the parking lot, and I sighed happily as it purred between my thighs. Riding this bad boy was one of my favourite things to do, the wind in my hair and the speed gave me an adrenaline rush like no other.
When I arrived at the bar I nodded to the bouncers by the door, Chris and Harry who smiled back politely.
"Hows Cherry doing at school?" I ask Harry who smiled widely.
"She's good, Molly. She aced her mock exams, just got the real ones next and she's done."
I smile widely as I pass him, the deafening bass of the music greeting me as I duck under the bar, throwing my bag into a drawer before taking my first order.
Moments later I'm making a round of cocktails for some pretty girls out celebrating their birthdays, their eyes full of hope and excitement for the future. I feel a pang of sadness when I realise I won't ever have that, but I have to accept that I have a different gift; immortality.
"Whiskey, on the rocks."
I nod without looking at the man with the soft voice, pulling down a tumbler as I fill it with ice.
"Any preference?" I say, as I reach for the top shelf whiskey.
His voice is familiar, and I turn to look at him directly to see he has his head down, talking to the woman beside him. I shrug as I place the tumbler down, filling it halfway as he hands me a note. I take it from him, going to hand him his change when I realise he has gone. I shove his change in my pocket before serving my next customer, and so my night goes on. The drunker the patrons get, the more tips I get. I'm propositioned by about four guys, which I politely decline.
Finally it's time to close, and I begin collecting the glasses from around the bar. I'm walking upstairs when I see a man in the corner, sipping a tumbler of whiskey as I peer at him with interest. He wears the darkness like a cloak, but his pale fingers grip the glass as he lifts it to his lips.
"Its almost time to go," I smile, and hold out my hand patiently for his glass. He drains it, sliding it along the table so quickly I have to dive to catch it in my fingers.
"Quick reflexes," he murmurs, and I stop in my tracks. That voice seemed so familiar, yet I couldn't place it. I turn away, unnerved by the whole affair, as I make my way back down the stairs. If it was someone that knew me, surely I'd know? I didn't get a good look at his face, but I'd know if I knew him. I behin to stack the dishwasher, keeping my eye out for him walking down the stairs. I wipe down the sides as Lois yawns beside me. She is only just eighteen, but she has been doing bar work in her parents pub since she was fifteen.
"You go, I've got this," I smile, peering up into the darkness where the mystery man had sat. I couldn't see anything, and he hadn't walked down the stairs to my knowledge. I felt a prickle of unease as Scott, the bar manager stopped in front of me. He was a cute guy, mid twenties with tonnes of ambition and money, with the confidence to boot.
"So, Mols," he drawls, watching me carefully as I turned towards him. "We done?"
"Um, yeah but I think theres one guy still up there. I've not seen him leave."
Scott frowns, following my haze before shrugging.
"Time to turf him out then. What you doing after this?"
His question is loaded, and I shift uncomfortably. I can hear his thoughts, but even as a mere human I'd know what he wanted.
What they all want.
Scott groans, before walking towards the stairs slowly, sending me a look filled with lust and desire.
"You ever need something between your thighs other than that bike-"
"Don't finish that sentence, Scott. You're my boss, it's inappropriate," I chuckle back, smiling widely when Chris and Harry come in, looking tired.
"Scott is turfing the last dude out. Then we can go," I whisper, as Chris nods. Harry is watching Scott with interest, who is now leaning over the balcony and shouting down to us.
"Mol, there's no one up here."
I frown as I look up, seeing him shrugging as he begins to walk back down to us.
"Maybe you need some sleep, kid," says Harry kindly, and I mock yawn.
I wait until Scott has locked up before saying my goodbyes, declining Scott's 'final offer' of the evening before I get on my bike. The stranger with the whiskey plays in my mind as I try to picture him, but all I can hear is his voice.
Who was he?