Fragmented Self Ch.1: Part 7: A Chance Meeting

Eris flooded her eyes with blood and the whole world became much clearer. The majority of the streetlights were either broken or malfunctioning and this threw the area into disarray and made observation quite difficult. With her blood vision now turning the night into a more apparent world of florescent red, she could easily see the different shapes and figures of the empty street. There were a few garbage cans littered aimlessly about the place and a couple of broken down cars were abandoned on the sidewalk.1

This was the kind of neighborhood that one would always avoid, if one could. But Eris unfortunately could not; her only way back home was via a hidden door behind a dumpster a few yards away. A sudden flash of light burned her eyes and forced the blood within to flee into the confines of her body. She looked up to see the rusty truck come to a stop and four questionable looking characters walk out. 2

The one in the front was obviously the leader, judging from the flawless charisma that flowed from him like overused cologne. He wore a green Mohawk and a white shirt with holes in it. The rest of the men dressed in a similar fashion with various piercing and tattoos. "Well, look what we got here! A girl dressed in leather; tasty! I do believe the buffet opens early tonight!" The men began to circle like a pack of hungry wolves. Eris thought about the gun in her jacket, but knew her directives would never allow her to kill humans even in self defense. And she knew she could not fight all of them bare handed.3

Without a word one of the men lunged at her. She tried to aim a punch for his head. The vagrant caught her hand and in a second had forced her to the ground. The next thing she knew he was on top of her while the other three began to grasp and her belt. She tried to scream, to move, or to do anything at all but to no avail. They were much too strong, and too many. And if she evoked her true strength she could not guarantee that she would not kill them. She closed her eyes, preparing to endure what ever torture came her way. 4

"Hey!" The shout resounded like a trumpet harkening salvation. The men stopped and turned in the direction of the noise. Eris opened her eyes and saw the man standing in front of the car. He was of average height, with a muscular build and long brown hair down to his shoulders. But, he was also a mess. His hair and face were covered in dirt, his hands were rough and filthy, and his smell was unpleasant to say the least. She judged him to be a homeless man, or a drunkard. The leader of the punks walked toward the man with a swagger and air of confidence. "This ain't none of your concern grandpa! Run home to your cardboard box before I really mess you up and kick you’re a....." Nothing stops a man in mid-sentence like a steel toed boot to the groin. The punk keeled over and began to cough and wheeze spastically.5

Then the dirty man leaned over and took hold of the nose ring protruding from the punk's septum. He paused for a moment, then ripped it out in one swift motion. The man with the Mohawk screamed and fell to the ground contorted in total agony. Than the man covered in dirt drew the revolver from his coat and leveled it on the remaining assailants. "You better pick up you friend and get out of here before the same thing happens to you. And I happen to think that at least one of you has a piercing downstairs. Want to test that theory?" Without another word they picked up the other man, hopped in their truck and sped off down the darkened street.6

The dirty man holstered his weapon and extended a hand toward Eris, whose face was still flushed with awe and wonder. "The name's Marshall Bordeaux. You should be more careful if you want to keep hunting nasties." Eris clasped his hand and rose to her feet. "How did you know I was a hunter?" Marshall took the long knife from her belt and twirled it around between his fingers before handing it back. "Just a hunch." he replied. "So I guess that makes you one as well." Marshall chuckled. "Guilty. What gave me away? The imp dung on my boots or the subway dirt all over my person." They both laughed and Marshall stared deeply into her eyes.7

Then suddenly he turned and walked away. Eris stood stunned for a moment than ran after him. "Why are you following me?" Marshall asked. "Well you saved my life and I want to know about my savior." "I didn't save your life merely your chastity, which I highly doubt you haven't already lost. Now please leave me alone." "Not that it's any of your business," she replied. "but I still am a...well, you know! And you have no idea what those men would do with me." Marshall stopped walking for a minute and turned around looking quite annoyed. "Did you try talking to them? Because I can guarantee that if you talked to them for three minutes, they would have left you there and never come back!" Eris became red with anger. "You evil shovanistic pig! Whatever ounce of chivalry you showed back there is canceled out by your rude, obnoxious, self-serving ways!" Marshall shrugged his shoulders and continued walking.8

"I don't have to deal with this." he said. "It's been a long night and I need to get home and take a bath. You go home and play with your dolls." Eris looked as if her head were about to explode. "First of all just because you are forty something, that does not make me a child. And second I just finished off a berserker vampire high on Gaphicite, and was attacked by four sex-driven delinquents. You don't have it any worse than me!" Marshall bit his lip. "I am thirty five, and I'll thank you to remember it. A life of slaying the undead makes you seem much older. When that happens you can talk to me, but until then stick to learning how to sew."9

Eris clenched her fists. "What happened? One minute it looks like you're going to kiss me, the next you turn and walk away." "Don't flatter yourself sweetheart," Marshall snapped. "you're not my type. And as for what's wrong...you are a vampire! I am a hunter! I kill your kind for a living so excuse me if I did not want to put a bullet through the skull of the woman I just saved." Eris touched her fangs with the tip of her tongue. "But you don't understand, I'm one of the good ones!" Marshall snorted in response. "That's what they all say, but there's never a way to be sure. I'd just as soon kill all of you and sort the good from the bad later. Now leave me alone."10

"Ugh, you are such and ignorant jerk!" Eris punched a hole in a nearby dumpster, the metal folded in like melted butter. "Don't you understand that I didn't hurt those guys back there because of who I was? My directives don't let me harm humans; that has to count for something." Marshall shook his head. "That counts for stupidity, there's no logic in it. All your directives will do is get you killed. That's the difference between me and you. I can make a tough decision when I need to, and you don't even have a choice. I'm being real generous letting you just walk away right now, so leave. Just remember the next time we meet I'm driving a stake through your heart." Eris stopped moving and soon Marshall was just a speck in the distance. Then she sniffed the air picked up his scent and continued to follow him from afar. She would make this one see the truth whether he wanted to or not.11