He kept screaming for thirty-six hours.
I don't know how long I would have stood there, frozen in place. Deacon's footsteps approached, breaking me from my stupor. His hand dropped on my shoulder, pulling me away from the crimson-stained scene into the adjoining room. The large one-way window allowed us to continue to monitor the carnage.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Deacon took everything in with an unblinking gaze. I wasn't surprised to see him there. He had eyes and ears everywhere and had probably watched the entire process through his network of drones, cameras, and roving bugs.
Natalie's hands were stained red. Her shoes were spattered in blood. More slicked the floor in a circle around them. She tottered, barely able to stand, drained from exhaustion. But she wasn’t finished. The thing in front of her still whimpered, unable to die. Not until Natalie allowed it.
"Mike." Deacon snapped his fingers in front of my face. I slowly focused, staring at his face as if it was a lifeline.
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you know what a vampire is?"
I stared for a moment, uncomprehending. "A made up creature. Kills people and drinks their blood."
"That's partly correct. Vampires drink blood, but they don't always kill their victims. Sometimes they bite a person and make them their thrall. The thralls serve the vampires. Performs any task required, from caretaking to offering their veins for sustenance. In return, the vampires care for their thralls. Protects them from danger. Rewards them if feeling charitable. But make no mistake. Things never work out very well for the thrall. A person can only be drained for so long, after all."
I shook my head in confusion. "Why are we talking about vampires?"
"Because not all vampires are fictional." He looked at Natalie. "People can be vampires of a sort. Look at her."
Natalie's face was frozen, eyes glittering as she drove the pick into Gary's stomach. He shuddered, bloody drool dripping from his lips.
Deacon smiled, but his eyes remained cold. "This is what she is. What she'll always be. Don't fool yourself into ever thinking otherwise. Psychopaths are useful in our line of work. You really can't be successful in this business without possessing the traits one way or another. Psychopaths can control their urges for the most part, follow orders, speedily advance in rank, and even put a nice mask over their true face. They can make people believe they're normal. But eventually, they need to feed."
He gestured to the mess she was making. "You understand what I mean? You've attached yourself to her because you believe she cares about you and you care about her, but those are just delusions in your mind. Natalie is incapable of caring. Incapable of love or empathy. She will manipulate, prey upon, and eventually devour anyone around her. You're no exception."
He glanced down at me. "I can always use someone like Natalie. With the proper supervision, she'll make an excellent Agent. Hell, she might have my job one day. But you… you're in a different class, Mike. Natalie will pull you into her world if you allow her. You'll be a decent Agent, but never as good as her. You're different. That mind of yours will take you far in analytics. You see things in coding that the normal mind can't register. I suspect you're one of those rare prodigies. But you'll never get to discover your full potential if you tie yourself to her."
I felt a shiver run across my shoulders. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying either you kill the vampire or you eventually get turned into one. Natalie might be valuable, but we can always find another killer. You, on the other hand, are a priceless asset. There's no telling where your talents can take you in this profession. But right now you're crippled. Your naïve attachment to Natalie clouds both your judgment and your future. And I need you to do something about it before both are ruined."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a holstered pistol, and placed it in my hand. "I want to make sure I'm absolutely clear, Mike. You're going to walk into that room, and you're not coming out until you kill a vampire. Understand?"
I looked him directly in the eyes. "Yes, sir."
I yanked the pistol from the holster, opened the door, walked into the interrogation room, and shot Gary Whitman in the head. The sound was explosive, echoing in the small chamber. Gary's body jerked violently, then sagged like a deflated balloon. The silence that followed was almost vulgar in its finality.
I thought Natalie would attack me in a fit of rage, but she collapsed to her knees, eyes wide, staring at something I couldn't see. I got the feeling that she wanted someone to stop her, to end the torment she was unable to quit. Her chest heaved as she took shuddering breaths. Tears slid down her cheeks.
"It's not fair. He should have remembered. He should have remembered what he did to me."
I offered my hand. "I know. But it's over now."
She stared for a long moment before finally nodding and allowing me to help her up. Her energy spent, she could barely walk and leaned on me for support. Fingers sticky with blood left crimson streaks on my neck and shirt. I aided her out into the hallway where Deacon waited, arms folded and an unreadable look on his face.
"The plane for the Academy leaves in two weeks. Make sure the two of you are on it."
I looked up in surprise. "But… what about the test you talked about?"
He raised a bemused eyebrow. "That was the test."
I didn't sleep well that night. Every time I drifted off I dreamed of vampires. I stumbled through the fog, pursued by one in particular. Her eyes glimmered electric blue; her teeth flashed like brand-new razor blades every time she opened her mouth. Her face was so familiar. I knew her. I thought I loved her…
When I opened my eyes, Natalie's face was inches away from my own.
Her face and clothes were blotted with dark blotches. I smelled the dried blood that she should have washed off hours ago. The dim light gathered in her icy blue eyes, giving her an otherworldly appearance. I froze in place, wondering why she was there. Senior officers had their own rooms, and it had been a while since we shared bunks in the novice quarters.
"I can’t sleep," she said.
"Nightmares?"
She nodded. I didn't move when she crawled over me, slid under the covers and pressed herself against my back. Her arms slowly encircled me, wrapping about my arms and chest. Her breath tickled the hairs on my neck when she whispered into my ear.
"It's just you and me, Mike. I don't trust anyone except you. I don't care about anyone except you. It's us against everyone. Just us." Her lips pressed against the side of my neck, the softest touch I'd ever felt.
Something broke inside of me.
I didn't know what was wrong. I tried to hold it in, but a sob ripped from my throat. Tears streamed down my face, dampening the pillowcase. My lungs burned from the effort of crying, releasing something I didn't even know had been pent up somewhere deep inside.
"It's okay." Natalie stroked my hair and held me even tighter. "We're gonna be okay."
Two weeks later, we stood in front of the shuttle bound for the Academy. Deacon hadn't come to see us off, but I knew he was watching through his hidden eyes. Every other cadet was at least two years older than Natalie. They gave us looks that ranged from curious to hateful.
When it was my turn, I went up the steps. A large cadet blocked the way, sneering down. His voice was deep and thick with scorn.