Vampire (Challenges & Contests)

Neat Freak

London (1847).

"What are you doing!?", he wants to know and I grin. "I thought you said you are hungry!", the body of a fainted woman in my hands. They are so easy to scare. She is one of the beggars and nobody will miss her. 

"This street looks really filthy! Is this not prohibited? Why do we even have to be here in the middle of the night?", Lawrence asks fidgeting his fingers anxiously about what I will ask to do him next. "I bet she has fleas...", he adds and I sigh. "Do you think the bottled blood I brought you grows on trees and little fairies bring it to me?", I roll my eyes. "You need to finally start to survive on your own. I can't feed you forever."

He wrinkles his nose and I place the motionless body to the ground. "Alright, come on."

One thing I had to learn the hard way: Never turn someone when you are drunk. It seemed like a good idea first. A companion for eternity, someone who is reliable and stable. Not like all the women. A real partner in crime, with the innocent appearance of a gentleman. 

 Turned out, there is a downside to it. "Jacob?", he then whispers at our way back home. I sigh, "Yes?"

"I'm still hungry.", he looks at me with puppy eyes as I reach out my wrist and he blushes. "Right here?", he looks into the empty street we left behind with the fainted girl. "Either now, or you'll starve until I feel like it again."

He gulps and tries to control his fangs that levitate over my wrist. After a minute he growls frustrated. "I can't!"

"Then you'll dry out."

"You always say that."

"This time I mean it."

A week passes by and I swear to god that if we would still eat food one could easily dine from the floor in the basement room I rented. Lawrence killed my fine senses with the bleach for cleaning so I left for the night and when I come back he is still cleaning. 

"Lawrence... what... happened?", I ask at the sight of him standing in the middle of a room full of ruined furniture and the blood that is decorating the walls and floor. A dead body in the middle.

"Ms. Brown complaint about the way I cleaned the bath and we had a little argument." He smiles apologetically.

"You... killed our landlady because she criticised your cleaning methods?"

"I'm not sorry!", he pouts, but then sighs. "But now, I have to clean all this again."

I look at him in disbelief. I just got a monetary penalty because I turned him illegally and now, after over a year, he tortured a woman to death that we needed to have a roof over our heads.

I wanted a partner in crime, not a partner that commits crimes. How do they say? 

Be careful with your wishes, sometimes they become true.