The clock hitted on 3 am in the morning. It was knocking-off time for Pete, Jet and the barkeeper, they finally came out of Frank’s pub. Frank itself, the barkeeper locked the door with a key.

  „Sorry I can’t go home with you“, Jet apologized to him. He looked like he didn’t want him to go alone at this late hours where creatures lurked in the corner to target their next victim.

  „Don’t worry about me. I can defend myself, I’m a man after all“, Pete retaliated and showed him his biceps with a big smile on the face. He tried to act thought so Jet won’t worry about him.

Frank just shook his head and secretly laughed at the conversation between his son and his worker. He crossed his arms, he was enjoying the little act between them. It was like they were doing a hilarious show he didn’t want to miss a piece of it.

Jet touched Pete’s shoulder, „I’ll come home in the morning. Call me if you’re home or…“

Pete cut him off, „Or immediately call you or the police if I see someone dangerous following me“, he continued his sentence. He just giggled without making a single sound, „You’re such a worrywart.“

Since more than fifteen days I have been watching the two of them. It was the first time in those many days that Pete was going home without Jet, his so-called bodyguard. I wonder why he never let him alone. Did something happen that he shouldn’t be left alone anymore? I’m curious to know everything about Pete.

  „Be careful on your way  back“, Jet repeated.

Pete waved goodbye to the two and started on his way. Jet didn’t have the heart to let him leave alone so he waited until he curved in the turning, he finally disappeared from his view. Frank tugged on his Shirt to make their moves too.

Pete continued his way, he fished something out his bag, it was a newspaper. It was too dark to read so he stopped under a light. He read at the main line the following: Tong Chanthara, a 25 years old studend died yesterday night due to massive blood lost. His body was found in the forest near the city, two bitemarks were found on its neck. The police are looking for witnesses who can give them a clue to capture the culprit. The dead man’s face was pictured in the middle of the main line. The victim was the man who molested Pete yesterday night.

He sighed, „Sorry for being nasty to you yesterday“, he mumbled an apologize.

I jumped downward, touched down with one knee kneeling on the ground. I sticked my hands in the pocket then followed him. Only a few meters were between us. He suddenly sensed me behind him, stopped on the track and looked behind to me. We made eyes contact, stared at each other as if we were playing the game The-loser-will-be-the-one-who-blinked-first. Instead of fleeing from me, he just stood there watching me. He finally moved by turning away from me.

  „He’s not following me“, he repeated over and over to calm himself down. Although he spoke faintly, I clearly heard him.

His body became stiff, he took a deep breath then forced his feet to move. I followed him again. When he heard my footstep behind him, he speeded up. I remained silent, calmy chasing him like a psychopath. Suddenly he ran. I gave him a wide advance by waiting for awhile.

He neared a turning, I leaped on a roof of a house, jumped from house to house til I was close to him. He looked up, noticed me on the roof.

  „This… This can’t be“, he denied what was happening to him.

I jumped down, landed some meters away from him. He stepped back, dashed aside to a house where lights were on, he fearfully tapped on the house.

  „Help, Help me“, he was anxiously screaming.

Nothing happened, no answer to his cry for help. I stood there, watched how he desperately tried to save himself.

It didn’t surprise me that nobody wanted to help him. He, a complete crazy stranger yelling for help in the middle of the night never sound good. It could be a trap. Everybody would feel scared, no one in his right mind would open the door. Human can be cruel sometimes.

I went a step forward. He realized that nobody would help him so he quickly continued his way. He was sweating from fear, his heart pounded, he breathed heavily. While trying to flee, he searched for something in his bag but didn’t find the thing. Idiot! He didn’t notice he took the wrong way. A dead-end!

Today you’re going to die by my hands. I waited too long for that day to come. I sharpened my eyes to see what he was doing in the meantime. He was anxiously searching for something in his bag again. His hands were shaking, the bag fell on the ground as he fished the thing out. His mobilphone! He anxiously dialed a number, quickly placed the mobilphone over his ear. The more I get closer to him the merrier he trembled, gulped and gasped for air. I finally took the turning.

I came out the corner, he froze on the spot. I calmly approached him, he instead stepped back til his back touched the wall. Left, right, not even an escape route. All routes were blocked, now he can’t escape me anymore.

  „Who… Who’re you?“, he stuttered, his voice cracked from fear.

He wanted to run but before he could take a step, I went in  lighning-speed to him. He reacted surprised to see me so close to him.

   „Please, don’t do anything to me“, he begged while folding his hands. Tears filled his eyes. His back pressed against the wall as if he wanted to force an espace route open. All of his rescue attempt failed.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. I grabbed on his hair, cocked his head aside, smelt on his neck. I could hear his thumping heart, clearly see how the blood was streaming through his aorta. His blood smelt good, alone the smell made me craving for more. Too good!

My fangs protruded, they grazed on his neck, little blood flew from the wound. He panicked, fought against me by scratching all over my face. The hood over my head fell, my scratched face, my red lenses were revealed to him. He suddenly stood riveted on the spot when he saw  my face. The scratchs on my visage healed from itselves.

He looked shocked, „No, it can’t be“, he shook his head in disbelieve, „You can’t be him...“. Both hands were placed on his head, he shrieked and cried, „You can’t be Earn.“

Earn? Is he speaking from the Earn whose grave I saw some days ago? His dead boyfriend? His cries caused another strong headache. I staggered backward. An occurence flashed before my eyes: Pete again, this time he sat on a sofa, was giggling nonstop. Another tall, brown-tonned guy whose face blurred, was tickling him, the person hugged him from behind then lifted him up. The two happily laughed together.

A memory from the past again? I seethed with rage, was furious at Pete for confusing me. I went fast to him.

  „Do you know me?“, I agitately asked him.

He couldn’t stop crying. I was annoyed, fixed my red eyes on him and touched him on the shoulder.

  „You’re coming with me. Now sleep!“, I hypnotised him.

All the sudden his eyes closed, his knees became weak, he then fell uncounscious. I quickly leaned an arm around his back to prevent him from hitting on the ground. I laid the other arm under his legs, lifted him up and carried him in my arms. I leaped like a lightning on a roof of a house then jumped from house to house.

This Pete seemed to know something about me. He could definately help me recover my lost memories. I want to know everything about me and my identity, especially about him.