Midnight Moon: Black Widow

Chapter 19: Drunk White Girl (Jeff's POV)

If knew anything about Ariana, I knew that she was gone for a long time because she's hurt. I know exactly where she is: Scandalous.

I got out my car, greeted by a bunch of protesters from the Westborl Baptist Church. Sighing heavily, I tried my best to ignore them by walking past them, but I was blocked by a man, a couple of inches shorter than me. Since I'm 6'3, I assumed that he his about 6'1.

He resembled someone whom I know so well: Mercedes. Could this be the homophobic father kicked her out of his house when she was a teenager? I asked, "What the hell do you want?"

"Are you a fag?" He looked at me with a straight face. Well, I know thing: he IS a homophobe.

I answered, "If you're asking me if I'm gay, the answer's no. Who are you?"

"John Howard. My daughter's a 'lesbian' and she came here last week with this really tall white boy that insulted me," he a answered.

I shook my head. How could anyone in their in their right mind do something this? Locking my eyes on to him, I said, "Talk to me over here." He look as if he were confused, a sign that the compulsion was working.

He follow me, leaving the crowed of ignorant protesters to the side. I said, "I'm Dr. Jeff Heisenberg, and I work at New York University Hospital. I'm the radiologist that cured you're daughter's leukemia." That was a slight lie because there was absolutely nothing that I could do at that point except to turn her into a vampire. Nevertheless, it sounds better to tell a human father that his daughter survived cancer as oppose to telling him that she's a vampire. The last thing I wanted him to do was give her anymore reasons to think that she's immoral.

I wasn't just a radiologist. Living this long, I'm also a neurologist and a cardiologist. He asked, "Leukemia? Mercedes had..." He drifted into deep thought, immersing himself into a perhaps troubling memory. "Just like Tesla. No." He shook his head.

"Who's Tesla?" I asked.

"She was my wife. She died of leukemia. I-I didn't know. Mercedes never told me anything. I-I-"

"Why do you care? Because it wasn't the cancer that was gonna kill her, it was a girl that bullied her in high school. She beat Mercedes. Not only that, she killed her wife too. I bet she didn't tell you that either. That's right, because you don't give a damn about her. Didn't even care enough to come to her funeral. She invited you, too, reluctantly, of course."

With this, I left him alone, walking inside the bar.

I pushed past the crowd of dancers saying "excuse" as I paved my way through the pool of party animals. Then, I found her. Sure enough, she was wasted.

I sat next to her and asked the bartender for a glass of red wine. She asked, "W-what the hell do you want?" Her words were slurred.

I answered, "You know you aren't in your disguise, right?"

"Honestly, Heisenberg, I don't care anymore. Mercedes loved me when I was a...human. I don't want to be like this. Half-vampire. She was one of the only reasons why I hanged on to my humanity," she admitted.

I reached over, grabbing her hand, but she pulled it away, shaking her head. "Jeff..." She whispered. "I saw Mercedes having sex with Rose. I have a great reason to drink my problems away because I don't want to feel. I don't want to feel the pain of my wife marrying YOUR daughter. "

She turned to me, her piecing blue eyes gazing at me. She laced her fingers into mine and asked, "I'm not too drunk to remember. I want to know how it feels... Being with a guy. Just one night. Okay?"

I asked, "Are you sure? What about Mercedes?"

"She doesn't love-"

"I promise you the she does. She's just stuck. She can't admit it to herself, and even if she did... She doesn't want to hurt Rosalie."

"That's bullshit, Jeff," she said.

"Okay," I inhaled deeply, "You're clearly drunk and I'm here to drive you home. Come on." I grabbed her arm.

She yanked it from me saying, "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"

I obeyed, letting go of her. I got up, waking away from t seat, leaving my glass of wine with her.

Soon I was greeted by a masked man, who muttered in Latin. I could, vaguely, understand what he was saying. I know he knew who I was, but it seems that he had a sort of sentiment for me. When I tried to move I was stuck. I couldn't move my legs or my arms.

He placed my hands on shoulders. He continued muttering in Latin until everything turned black.