Who: Hal Yorke What: Everyones talking about Bloooood Where: His room in Kushta na Pierce When: Early morning 5th June Rating: Low but talk of vampiness. Status: Narritive, Complete.
Line them up. One by one by one. Domino after Domino. Focus on that. Keep the focus on that. It was the only way he was going to be able to get through.
He should never have looked on that blasted internet. Never decided that he was fine and he could help. Never decided that his knowledge would be useful when there were so many capable of so much more than he was right now, Because he knew there was no way he could actually pick up a stake and go and fight these things. It was true that he was older, stronger. An Old One. He could have them bowing to him within minutes. Or dead at his feet if he refused. A new order in the world. But then that was the problem of course. Thinking like that, cocky, self assured. Lord Harry. That voice in his head pushing closer and closer. Wanting free, wanting a taste.
And he would have ample oppertunity. There would be blood on the streets tonight. So many people were talking about it, blood and death and how easy finding victims would be. That first bite, that taste, fresh, living, feeling their life leave them. God it was taking everything he was not to break the doors down and run. That and of course the magic that prevented it. Mitchell had avoided things, it seemed to be how the younger vampire dealt with it. Hide until it goes away, push the craving down and try not to explode. Mitchell was so full of anger and emotion that Hal sometimes wondered how it hadn't happened sooner. The Irishman had more willpower in him than Hal believed he ever could have.
Eyes had flashed black and fangs had revealed themselves. And he'd hidden from Alex and the others as much as he could. Because he knew he was the weak one. For all the strength and age. He was the coward. And one taste. Just one taste and it would all be done for. He could bring order to their chaos. He was Lord Harry Yorke and he would make them listen.
One by one by one.
Deep slow breaths followed every domino in the room he had ordered. The game of chess he'd played last night had all the pieces faced north. There were tacks for the board ordered by colour and size. He had found several pens people had left scattered around the house and arranged them into a jar. He'd cleaned the whole house top to bottom. Everything in its place.
Everything perfect and ordered.
Alex had come to equate cleaning sprees with not coping particularly well but she knew as well that it was a mechanism. Like all things. He'd pointed out it might be best if they locked him away when Lydia came to visit. Just for a few days. Until this blew over. Because it would. And the talk of blood would stop. It had to stop.
God he could hear them outside. Their heartbeats. If he looked he could see their veins.
The last domino found its place and Hal gazed down at the pieces. The urge. Small though it was, it was there. It was always there.
Control the smaller urges and the larger ones will follow.
He picked up the last piece returning it to its place in the box. And then another. And another.