Judas and Allon Meet Again For the First Time

He could smell the blood in the air. It was fragrant, tempting; it tainted the rain with its salty-sweet taste. He tapped his baseball bat on the ground twice, listening to the satisfying echo.

The corpse at his feet was mangled and broken. Blood had spurted onto the concrete and his sneakers; he would have to trash this pair. He slipped them off, being careful not to step on any of the scattered teeth.

He was never too careful around his work. Even if he got his own blood and hair on the corpse, what did it matter? They police would have fun tracking down someone without a pulse. He was remarkably good at laying low, despite his habits.

He threw the shoes at the corpse, relishing the satisfying thumps they made upon contact. The fucker deserved it.

Now to find his friend.

Wearing only his holey socks, he limped away from the alley, away from that lovely, tantalizing scent. It was far too early for many people to be out, but he knew the sun would but up soon--could practically smell it--and soon this area would be bustling with humans and their scents. He couldn't risk it.

He hotwired a car--someone's Ford Pinto, it was practically doing them a favor--and drove toward the approaching daylight.

-x-

The next night approached far more slowly than he would have liked, but eventually the sun began to set. He slicked back his long, dark hair and groaned. Damn, he needed a haircut.

The tall grasses clung to him as he finally saw a building; it was a an old fashioned white-washed church, like something out of a child's picture book. He quickened his pace, though he could feel the strength practically evaporating from his limbs.

It started to rain, and then to pour shortly before he reached the church; he hammered on the door, but his long army-green trench coat was already dripping.

"Anyone there?!" he called hoarsely, slamming his fist against the door with enough force to make the wood creak.

He was reading, when he heard the knocks. In fact, he'd been reading before he heard the knocks. Reading aloud, to a rather young boy. He looked to be only twenty, fresh out of high school. The Vietnam war was raging in the background, yet he was allowed a pass, because he was in college. However, for reasons the priest had not asked, he was seeking refuge within a church.

The very freckled man looked up from his copy of the bible when the door nearly collapsed under the knocks. He smiled at the boy, though it was as fake as the boy's smile, and set down his book, crossing to the door. His long robes trailed behind him, before he opened the door.

"Hello, may I help you?" he asked, a smile on his lips. He used his free hand to slick back his orange-brown hair, but the sides stuck out at funny angles, anyway.

"Let me in," he snarled gruffly, trying to shove the man out of the way. "It's wet out here and I need a place to stay." His musty odor entered the church before he could; he smelled like a wet dog.

Allon pressed a firm hand to the other man's chest.

"Excuse me, but this is a holy place. Before you enter, I must first ask you a few questions..." he said, smiling still, though it wavered slightly.

He tossed his head back, flipping his wet hair out of his face.

"Yeah? Make it quick, would you--it's miserable out here. I thought priests are s'posed to have fuckin' hearts." He paused, gritting his teeth. "That is, I thought priests are supposed to be nice. Taking in strangers caught in the rain and all that--it's in the Bible or whatever."

Allon just looked at him, very faintly raising an eyebrow. He had the strangest feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"Please, step inside, I'll have to prepare another bed," he said, deciding against the questions. "Just, do keep your swearing to a minimum and try to be courteous."

He stepped aside, though he was reluctant to lose his grip on the man. He looked particularly dangerous, and Allon knew all too well what dangerous people were like.

He muscled past the obnoxious priest, shaking the water off of his hair and onto the floor.

"About time," he groaned, plopping down onto a pew and sighing deeply.

"How long can I stay? I need a place for at least tonight. You got a spare bed or something?"

Allon slicked back his hair again, narrowing his eyes. He turned to the other man, smiling at him.

"It's about time for bed, so, I suggest that you retire to the room I made for you, as I get the other bed ready," he ushered the other man back into the back of the church, closing the door behind him. He moved over to a closet, taking out blankets and whatnot.

"I'll let you use my bed, then?" He offered, setting blankets out onto one of the pews. "I'll sleep out here, it's really fine."

"What the fucking hell ever," he groaned, yawning. His eyes seemed awake, however. "Just don't let me see or even smell you, got that--the other guy smells horrible, too. I want to be alone."

He wiggled his toes through the holes in his socks.

"If you burst in on me in the middle of the night, I might just slaughter you." He produced his damp baseball bat from under his coat, making eye contact with the priest. "I don't want to, so you should listen to me."

"You're a monster," Allon said, before he had really thought about the statement. He had thought so, but now he was sure. That look could only mean one of two things. Either this man was a killer, or he was a monster, and either way, he was still a monster.

He blinked, realizing much too late he probably shouldn't have said that. Monsters, real or not, tended to not like it when you knew what they were.

He grinned, snickering.

"You have no idea. Now show me my room and stay the fuck out until tomorrow night, if you know what's good for you. I don't have much pity for priests." His Brooklyn accent was strong, and out of place.

Allon shrugged slightly, laying the blankets he was holding onto the pew.

"Follow me, then," he replied, walking to the door and opening it for them. He gestured for Judas to go in first.

It was times like this that he was glad he took precautions, such as washing his sheets in holy water. Though it might not work against all monsters, it made him feel a little bit better.

Judas shuffled onto the bed, where he lay, face-down.

His scream started as a mumble, then escalted until it shook the walls of the church. He stumbled backward, hissing and yelling and clawing at the air until he crashed into the wall.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, holding his burning face. "What did you do--what have you done?! I'm going to fuck you up, you fucking little shit--fucking shit priest my motherfucking ass!"

Actually, Allon hadn't expected that to happen. Sure, he had kind of thought about how cool it'd be if it did. He felt kind of like a superhero. No, he really felt like a hunter, accidentally carefully trapping its prey.

Allon watched, rather calmly for someone witnessing something so violent. It gave him a bit of satisfaction. No, it gave him a guilty pleasure, watching it all unfold. After all, this man was a monster, perhaps a criminal...if he killed him, he'd do the world a favor, wouldn't he? It was something he had thought about more than his fair share. In fact, he thought about it a lot. The idea of ridding the world of its filth put a smile on his face. This was what he was made to do.

He took a step back, into the main part of the church. He knew where he kept every holy item he owned, and now he reached for the rosary around his neck.

Judas lay there for a moment, feeling the flesh over his face beginning to heal at an agonizing pace. This was no good; he needed fresh blood, and he needed it now. He forced himself to stand up and limp after the priest, licking his fangs.

"Come out and play," he called, grinning through the melted mask of his face. "I'm really gonna fuck you up now, man. I didn't want to, but now I have to." He gripped his baseball bat tightly as he closed in on Allon.

"I'm sure you've figured out what I want. And if you haven't I don't really give a flying fuck either way. If you want this shit to be quick, you'll just stick out your neck and close your eyes and count to a hundred. Don't be a stupid fuck."

Allon backstepped carefully, watching the other man.

"You're a vampire," he said, a certain amount of excitement in his voice. "You want to kill me. You're going to kill me..."

He paused briefly, gripping his rosary. What did he do now?

"Fuck yeah I am!" he laughed, holding the baseball bat above his head. "Now, do you want your fucking neck broken, or will you let me kill you the easy way? To be honest, I'll be happy no matter which way this goes." He spat on the floor. "I hate the taste of your kind. It's strictly business--I can't look like this, I need to feed and heal. You understand, right?"

"Of course," he replied, backing up again. Allon knew this game wasn't going to go on forever. There wasn't much he could do, but he had slowly been making his way towards the altar. If, perhaps, he could find some holy water stashed there, he could gain the upperhand...

"Where the fuck are you moving?" he snarled. "Stay put so I can kill you--I need the blood."

He smiled slightly, reaching behind the counter for the holy water. He found the jug he was looking for. Slowly, he took the cap off of the jug and brought it to his lips.

"If you're so positive, come get me, then," he replied, before he took long gulps of the holy water.

Judas stared at him suspiciously, then lowered his bat.

"...No. I don't trust you." A new scent affronted his nose, and he smiled again. That's right, there was another human here.

"I don't need you at all. If you need me, I'll be feeding." He made a dash for the young man's door, ready to break down if necessary. No way in hell was he gonna go on with a fucked-up face.

However, after realizing that he wasn't going to get any sex from the priest, the man decided to escape out the window. However, he fell weird when he jumped out of the window, and ended up breaking his neck.

He had been dead for a few minutes.

Allon followed him, feeling a bit weird. Perhaps drinking holy water wasn't the absolute best idea.

Judas, smelling the still-fresh meat, leaped out of the window and landed on all fours, albeit stumbling and almost falling over. He tore at the young man's neck, not bothering to break his bones; instead he sunk his fangs into the still-warm flesh and slurped greedily. He needed every last drop.

His baseball bat lay several feet away in the mud, and he didn't bother to retrieve it.

Allon leaned out the window, watching the scene with disgust. He really was a monster. Allon slammed down the window, latching it. Though it wouldn't keep the other man out, it might discourage him. Though, he seemed pretty angry. So probably not.

He moved into his room, sitting down on his bed. He felt...safe. For now.

Tossing the body aside, Judas stretched; new skin grew over his face, taut and smooth. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Grabbing his baseball bat, he tried to lick the taste off of his teeth. Feeding had never been his favorite activity.

He waltzed into the main room over the church, laughing.

"Are you going to come out now and face me again, priest? Don't think your God will save your ass?"