Spark of Chaos

I could still taste him.

It didn't matter how much I rinsed my mouth or scrubbed at the blood that coated my chin and lips. The taste lingered.

And I craved more.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, hating what I was, what it made me do. This legacy of my mother, a woman I had never met and whom my father refused to speak of.

My hands shook as I brushed my eyes, wiping away the tears. I sniffed, noisily, and swiped at the strands of hair that fell over my face, and I looked, really looked, at the mess I had made.

Sightless eyes stared back at me, the wet bloody mess of his face and neck were raw evidence of what I had done, and beneath his lifeless body, blood soaked the carpet in a slowly spreading pool.

Shit.

There was no hiding this. I had no one to call on to help me cover up this crime, and a crime it was. Despite what he had done, the humans would send me to prison and the supernatural community would turn to the covens for help.

A shudder ran through me at the thought of what they'd do.

Better to open a vein right here, right now, and find final freedom.

"Dammit!"

There were the tears again, staining my cheeks and ruining my makeup as if that even mattered. It was just more of a mess to clean up.

I hated myself.

I hated what I was.

What I had become when I turned sixteen.

Until then I was a normal girl. Well, as normal as any girl born into a supernatural family. But, despite that, I had friends, I went to school, and I even had boyfriends.

I had a future.

Then I turned sixteen and the change happened. I thought puberty had been bad, but it had nothing on what came to me then.

I shook my head, clearing away those memories. It was not the time, nor the place. I was, what I was. There was no changing it, no cure to the cursed life I led.

No. There was only dealing with it.

I sniffed, noisily and pushed myself up from the grimy sofa. I checked through the kitchen, searching for rubbish bags and cleaning supplies, but to my utter lack of surprise, I found none of either.

Next, I headed upstairs to the bedroom. My top was ruined and while I could wash the blood from my face and hands, I couldn't exactly leave with a white top that was covered quite liberally in the blood of the man I'd just killed.

There were few clothes in the wardrobe, but I found some sweatshirts in the top drawer of the dresser. They smelt strongly of mildew and BO, but it wasn't like I had much choice. I grabbed the cleanest I could find and pulled it over my head.

It would be enough to get me home where I could change properly.

I ran my fingers through my hair and exhaled a soft sigh. A quick look around the house hadn't exactly set me at ease. I wasn't even entirely sure that Kenny lived here.

There were no pictures of family or friends, which wasn't damning in and of itself, he was a guy after all. But there were few clothes or personal belongings and the only room that looked like it saw consistent use was the bedroom.

In the bathroom there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap and aftershave. No razor though. Since his face had a day's stubble growth at most, it suggested he was shaving elsewhere.

My guess was doss house. A place he could come on a weekend that he could bring girls back to. A place where no one would see him coming and going and any… mess… he made could be cleaned up far from where he actually lived.

He was too young to be married, not these days, and he had no ring, so I was beginning to suspect there was another reason he needed to keep his darker deeds away from his home.

Add to that the very simple fact that a higher-than-average number of half-demons were engaged in crime at all levels, and it suggested to me that I had stepped into something I really wanted nothing to do with.

I glanced down at the body, hating him for the mess he had caused.

Really hating that I began to salivate at the sight of the ragged, red, flesh of his face.

I turned away, squeezing shut my eyes and forcing down the hunger. I'd fed it already, it would be days, perhaps weeks, before I was forced to feed it again.

When I had no choice, but to feed.

A yelp escaped me as the phone began to ring, startling me, and I looked across in horror at the phone and answer machine sitting on a side table. It was past nine, who would be calling?

"Kenny, you there? Pick up man, c'mon." A pause. "Shit, alright, if you're still at the pub I'll see you there in an hour. If not, finish up with whatever bird you picked up and I'll be round to see you after I have a pint."

My eyes widened in fear. An hour! I was screwed.

"Remember, mate. You were taught to share, so wait for me, yeah?"

A low chuckle, full of malice, was the last sound I heard before the call ended and I stared at the phone, wondering what the hell I was gonna do.

Another glance down at the body of Kenny. There was no hiding what my teeth had done to his flesh and that would be evidence enough to call in the covens. Or, if he was a criminal like I suspected, to get a hunting party well and truly riled up.

How long before questions were asked at the pub?

How long before someone remembered seeing him talking to a girl on the common?

How long before they were knocking on my door?

"Oh God!"

I was screwed.

Well and truly.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

I ran a hand down my face and sucked in a deep breath, willing my heart to stop racing.

It didn't help.

Panic was flooding my system with adrenaline and all I wanted to do was run as far and as fast as possible, but that wasn't the answer.

There was nowhere to run to.

"Okay," I told myself, voice trembling as much as my hands. "You have an hour. You can do this."

Move the body. That was the answer.

Without a body, they might assume Kenny had killed someone and done a runner. Not like they would be calling in the police.

Right?

My mind was racing, my heart fit to burst from my chest.

I pulled open the back door and peered out. The houses I could see were starting to close their curtains, the summer sun finally heading towards the horizon. I couldn't see anyone in those windows, so with a deep breath, I slipped out of the back door and quickly across the garden.

A dog barked as the gate shut, the metal bolt rattling, and I ducked my head and hurried along the alleyway back to the main road. I kept my hands in my pockets and my head down all the way home and whispered thanks to any deity that was listening that the feral kids had all moved on.

I rushed up to my room and grabbed my car keys, along with a roll of rubbish bags, cloths and bleach. There wasn't much I could do in an hour, but I could at least try and clean up after myself.

Back outside I stared critically at my car. When I'd bought it, I'd been almost giddy with how cute it was. A Mini Cooper in metallic green. A great car for a young woman on her way to university. Not so great for someone looking to move a body.

Still, it wasn't like I had any other choices.

I couldn't shake my nerve as I drove back to Kenny's house. It was as I was reversing along the narrow alley that I realised with a start that I wasn't entirely sure which house was his. A moments panic hit me before I caught sight of the green painted gate, and I heaved a heavy sigh.

Back inside the house, I stood over Kenny's body and considered my options.

Being what I had came with some benefits, not least of which was the supernatural strength. I was much stronger than your average girl. Your average guy, too. So, lifting and carrying the body wouldn't have been an issue except for the size.

Kenny was six foot something, and broad enough that there was no way I could hide what I was carrying.

Not unless I cut him into smaller pieces.

"Oh God," I whispered as I headed to the kitchen to look for a knife.

I kept one eye on my watch as I set about the grisly task with a too dull, rusted, carving knife found in a drawer in the kitchen.

Arms first, cutting through the flesh of the shoulder and using my enhanced strength to force the blade through the bone with a most horrendous sound. Blood splashed the walls, and myself, and I swore softly at not covering up.

Once the arms were secured in a rubbish bag, I went for the legs. They were long, too long for the bag, so I was forced to make two cuts. Just below the knee, and then at the hip. That was the harder part, the flesh being thick and heavy with muscle, making it challenging even with my strength.

Then it was time for the head.

I licked suddenly dry lips and tried to avoid looking into those empty eyes, all life absent. Despite my… needs, I'd never actually killed someone before. I'd always had help from my father with managing my condition.

He'd supplied me the dead flesh I needed to live. Staving off the change that would have made me uncontrollably dangerous.

Without him, I would have killed years before and likely lasted months before the covens hunted me down, determined to protect the supernatural world from being discovered by humans.

I slammed the knife blade down against Kenny's neck, anger rising in me. It was his fault I'd had to kill. His fault that he'd died. If only he'd kept himself out of my business. If he hadn't asked me those questions, demanded answers.

If only he hadn't been raping scum deserving of death.

I dumped the head in a bag and tied it off, ignoring the enticing aroma of the cooling flesh that kept my mouth watering despite the horror that brought me.

Another trip to Kenny's bedroom to grab yet another sweater to replace the one I should have taken off before butchering the body, and I washed up as best I could before heading back to the kitchen door.

After checking that there was no one watching, I carried the bags out and loaded them into my car. Covering them with a blanket so I didn't have to try and explain them should I pulled over. Though, to be fair, if I were pulled over, I was done for anyway.

Back to the house where I used the bleach and the cleaning cloths, to wipe down every surface I might have possibly touched. Once that was done, I emptied out the remainder of the bleach onto the bloody stain on the carpet.

Anything to make it harder for anyone to confirm whose blood it was.

It wasn't exactly ideal, but it was the best I could do in the severely limited time I had left. A quick check of my watch was enough to remind me it had already been almost an hour which meant Kenny's friend would be back any moment.

I closed up the house and went back to my car before driving back along the alley. I pulled out and drove carefully around to the front of the houses and parked up where I could have a clear view of the row of terraced houses.

It wasn't long before someone came along. A slim man, young, with spiky black hair and tattoos on his neck. He knocked on a door and when no answer came, tried the handle. It opened because I'd had the good sense to unlock it from the other side before, I left, and he went inside.

He came back out shortly after entering and leaned against the doorframe as he smoked a cigarette. He was on his third smoke when another car pulled up and four men climbed out. The barrel-chested balding man who I took to be the leader exchanged words with Kenny's friend before they all went into the house and my heart sank.

I was right.

He was a criminal of some sort and if there was one thing the supernatural criminals could do, it was organise themselves.

They had to.

If they didn't, the covens would come for them and shut them down.

Which meant I was seriously screwed.