Fortress in the Ghetto

She opened her eyes again, absently realizing her blindfold had slipped off. Why did he want her to stay awake so badly? She shifted slightly and cried out in agony as the shrapnel scraped against her. She resolved to hold still from now on. Her breathing was raged and shallow, the pain dulling her senses and making her truly blind once more. Pain clouded her inner vision, painting her world a deep shade of vermillion tinged with black.

"This is going to hurt like hell. Stay still or it'll hurt worse." He went to work on removing the shrapnel. He quickly had some small pieces. After a short while he had the biggest chunk. The round was supposed to shape itself like a mushroom, but it had broken apart as well. It hadn't gone too terribly deep, thanks to the nature of the hollow point round. It was still going to take a while.

She groaned as more pain washed through her. Her whole world was reduced to this agony. She felt sick with it. Every time he pulled a piece of metal from her body, she cried out. Tears welled up in her sightless eyes and fell unchecked. She was not ashamed of them. There was no room for shame in the new, pain-streaked world.

Although she'd always pushed herself for more and more physical damage, she'd never gone as far as shooting herself. This was the worst pain she'd ever felt so far. It was terrible and, in its horror, perfect. Odd as it was, she felt comforted by the warm embrace of this torture. It soothed her broken mind by giving her a broken body. And so she escaped into this pain, let it take over her mind, until there was nothing left but the torment her body underwent.

After a long while, Matthew had a small tray with several bloody pieces of lead laying on it. "I think that's all of them..." he said while still looking in her.

A sigh of relief tinged with loss escaped her as the pain began to die down. Slowly her wound began healing, the tissue knitting back together seamlessly. Within minutes a new patch of skin replaced the bullet hole. Though it was red and would still be sensitive for awhile, it was clear that it would leave no scar. Unlike Matthew, no trace of her bullet wound would exist.

Grateful for the reprieve from her waking nightmare, she murmured "thank you," before passing out. As much as she loved being in pain, she also hated being in pain. She wouldn't wake up for awhile. Her body needed time to rest after such an ordeal.

Matthew's eyes widened at how quickly she healed. He wanted to touch it to make sure it was real, but decided against it. She was out too quickly for him to be able to ask about it, so he just sighed and carried her to the only bed in his underground home. His own. He would ask her about that tomorrow.
His room was very large for that of a single person. His bed was against the middle of the right wall from the perspective of the door. It was larger than the largest standard mattress size. It screamed luxury. On either side of it was a night stand, and just beyond that floor to ceiling book shelves. Opposite the bed was an enormous tv screen built into the wall. Below it was a case also built into the wall that housed a dvd/blu-ray player and, surprisingly, a VCR. There was a smaller book shelf that was being used for DVDs rather than books to the right of the wall case containing the things hooked to his tv. There was a tall lamp in each corner of the room. To the right of the tv there was a door that led to his bathroom. Other than that the room seemed rather bare. It appeared as if it weren't really lived in, and it seemed like it should belong in the home on a villain's private island in a spy movie.

Matthew set her down and covered her up. He then left the room, turning off the lights as he did so. One of the features of his room was that it had automatic lights that would turn on or off and become brighter or duller based on the position of the sun. It was even set up to look like he had windows so that it would seem like the sun was coming in through them. Since the sun was down at the moment, they were off. They would turn back on with the sun.

Aveira slept for a long time. Two days passed before she finally awoke, disoriented and confused. She sat up and reached a hand to her head, frowning. Her blindfold was gone. Where had she left it? And why...

Then it hit her. All of her memories came rushing back and she gasped. She threw the blankets off her and fanned her senses out, looking for Matthew. He wasn't in the room, but that didn't mean he wasn't nearby.

Matthew was in another room in the compound. After a while he walked back to his room, shirtless. He was wearing a different pair of pants than he had been before. He appeared to be sweating, and was wiping the sweat off of his face with a small towel. "Oh, you're awake."

Aveira oriented her senses toward him, but didn't turn around. She didn't need to. "How long was I asleep?" she asked in a monotone. Her body often took a long time to regenerate after multiple or deep wounds. She hated how vulnerable it left her. Then again, she'd shot herself in his house knowing what would happen.

"Two days. I was starting to wonder if you'd wake up." He set down his towel. "Do you need anything before I take a shower?"

An odd feeling flickered across her. "I'm hungry," she told him softly. His scent invaded her nose and she covered her mouth with both hands, desperate to close it out. He smelled so good, and she could feel his life force flowing through him. What was this feeling? She'd never felt it before. Or maybe she had and she just couldn't remember. Remember what? What was she thinking about? And what smelled so good...?

Before she realized what was happening, she was standing with her arms around Matthew. Her head was buried in his neck, his delicious smell strong in her nose.

Matthew wasn't really sure what to do. He looked down at her with his arms not quite around her, but not at his side.

Aveira kissed him, her lips slightly open. As she kissed him, she drew out his life force, his soul. Little by little it flowed into her. She took small sips of it, savoring its taste. His soul was not sweet or gentle. It had a fierce taste, cold like ice, slippery smooth, and full of an inner fire. It was like nothing she'd ever tasted before.

At first Matthew returned the kiss. Then he felt it. Like he was being drained from himself. It was as if he was leaving his body. He jumped back from her, gasping. His eyes were wide. "Wha-... What the hell?"

Aveira looked back at him. Her eyes were a dark purple now, the color of her hair. She could see him. "I knew you were beautiful," she said in an odd voice. Her expression was wrong, like she wasn't really there. She stepped toward him, then seemed to wrestle with herself. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they were pale again. She covered her mouth again and groaned. "I need someone," she told him hurriedly. "Anyone. Just bring me someone." Her voice cracked on the last word and she lunged for him again. She couldn't help it. She was a starved woman placed in front of a three course meal.

"What?" He jumped back again, away from her. He wasn't sure what she was talking about at all. Matthew was so used to having more than enough information that he didn't like not being in the know.

"Do you want to die?" she asked in a scratchy voice. She covered her face again, trying to block out the smell, the sound, the feeling of his soul. She crumpled to the ground and whimpered. "If you don't hurry, I'm going to kill you." It wasn't a threat. It was a plea. She didn't want to kill him, but she was just so hungry...

He nodded in understanding and not in agreement. Matthew quickly walked over to the wall and hit a button on it which caused a thick metal door to begin lowering. Matthew rolled under it, and it closed. Just after that, several locks could be heard clicking into place. That door was designed to withstand rockets. After that he went to the computer at the desk in the center of the large room and he remotely disabled the button so it wouldn't re-open the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aveira let the hunger take over. She shrieked and wailed and threw herself against the door again and again. Her body slammed into it hard enough to bruise. Over and over and over she pelted herself into that door, waiting for Matthew to come back. Her consciousness retreated to the back of her mind, unable to withstand the flood of demonic hunger.

It would be over an hour before Matthew would come back. The metal door opened and Matthew was standing behind it. In front of him was some pathetic looking kid who looked around 19. Matthew went out of his way to get someone who wouldn't be missed. He had found the kid selling drugs to some even younger kids. He kicked the back of his knee, causing him to fall onto his knees, and he then kicked his back so he'd fall into the room with Aveira. Matthew had had a gun to his head up to that point.

The metal wall was dented pretty badly. Aveira may not have been the rocket that those walls were there to protect, but she was almost as strong as one. Well, she was when she needed to be. The second the boy landed in front of Aveira, she had latched onto him. His life essence wasn't nearly as good as Matthew's had been. He tasted bland. The sweet taste of innocence was gone, but he hadn't lived long enough or well enough to gain a new flavor. If "useless, unmotivated urban youth" had a taste, this was it.

At least it was filling. When she'd taken his entire soul into her body, she dropped him and stood up. The boy just laid there, neither dead nor alive. He was empty now.

Matthew looked up at her questioningly, not at all concerned about the body.

She looked back at him clearly. It was nice being able to see. She smiled thankfully before looking down at the poor boy. "You'll want to shoot him," she said. "He's already dead anyway."

"Not here. I like to keep a clean house." A cruel thought passed through Matthew's mind. He dismissed it and went to pick the boy up.

Aveira spoke softly. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I can remember now. This has happened to me before. But I have these memory problems. I have to speak quickly before I forget again." Her voice was rushed, but coherent. She sounded saner than she normally did. "I never die. Instead, I just wake up and...empty someone. Like this boy." She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. They were slightly cloudy, but she could still see.