Chapter 3. The Brown Brothers

“Knock it off, Daryl,” Rick pushed him away. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Fixing a scowling gaze on him, he continued, “What are you doing here?”

Daryl broke into a devilish smile. “I’m here to ruin your day at work.” His face turned mean and serious.

Daryl was obsessed with Rick, leaving him just to get a job at the Cast News. They were meant to be bonding as brothers since they moved to New Orleans. Things weren’t going easy with them since they both had different views on how they saw humans.

Rick glanced around once more. “Seriously, you’ve got to put your fangs away before someone sees them,” he whispered.

They were vampires who had lived for three hundred years but still looked like they were in their early twenties. Rick was beginning to develop a soft heart for humans, but Daryl detested it and told him he was weak for pitying the humans instead of preying on them.

He hissed loudly. “Do I look like I care?”

“We are predators. We stalk and prey on our victims, not the other way around!” Daryl often yelled at him.

Long ago, vampires used to live in secret and away from the human species. Now, they lived amongst the humans. The curse of the sun that had opposed them had been broken. They could now walk under the sun without bursting into flames.

“Anything the matter?” the janitor finally showed up, pushing the janitorial cart toward them. He had spotted them from afar but was worried that the gothic-looking dude was harassing the new staff.

“Mind your business!” Daryl said without looking back. His eyes were still fixed on Rick.

He had vowed to make Rick’s eternity a living hell unless he quit his desire to befriend humans instead of preying on them. One thing Rick couldn’t get right was his bloodlust. He couldn’t fight it. He was too weak to fight his bloodlust. Seeing a drop of blood would make him go wild.

“I’m not talking to you, punk!” the old man lashed out in anger. He moved away from his cart and started drawing closer to them, wielding a mop stick.

“Punk? Really? Punk?” Daryl didn’t like to be pushed around, especially by the humans. He slowly turned with a haughty glare at the janitor.

“Please, brother, do nothing,” Rick pleaded in a tiny voice. He already knew his brother wouldn’t stay calm.

“You get your ass out here, or I will get the sec…”

Before the janitor could finish his sentence, Daryl moved faster than the janitor’s eyes could see and stood behind him, gripping him by the throat. The janitor couldn’t move. Daryl’s grip on him was so firm that he gasped as if he were almost out of breath.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” Rick glanced around more quickly to make sure no one was watching. He switched his gaze back to Daryl. “Let him go, please,” he pleaded.

This was the same reason he had always wanted to move away from his brother. He was ruthless, with no care or pity for the humans at all.

“I told you I want to ruin your day at work.” Daryl raised his lip a bit, his mouth closed, and his eyebrows raised a bit too. He sounded serious with his words.

“Please, brother,” Rick said desperately as he glanced around once more. His identity needed to be kept secret if he was to blend in with the humans eventually. “Let him go.”

“I will if you accept who you are and stop trying to fit in among these ungrateful species.”

Daryl didn’t let go of the janitor. The janitor continued to gasp for air. Daryl’s grip was hurting him to the point where he was already losing his breath quickly.

Any wrong move from Rick to force his brother to release the janitor would result in him snapping the janitor’s neck before Rick could get to him.

Rick paused for a while. This was a hard decision to make. His desire to quit drinking human blood directly from humans’ arteries was getting him somewhere. He had replaced it with buying blood from the blood bank in the local hospitals to satisfy his bloodlust and keep himself in check.

He finally squeezed out a few words in an unsteady voice, “I’m sorry, brother. I can’t go back to who I’m running away from.”

Daryl smirked. “I knew you would say that.” His fangs popped out fast. There was no sign of pity in him as he punctured his fangs into the carotid arteries in the neck of the poor janitor.

Rick’s face turned pale as he slumped to his knees, feeling helpless. He couldn’t believe it. Last night, he had stopped Daryl from feasting on an innocent girl. Perhaps this was part of his revenge for meddling with his bloodlust and trying to make him be like him.

Daryl had had his fill. He released his grip on the janitor and pushed him toward Rick.

As Rick raised his head, his eyes were drawn to the janitor struggling to breathe. He was choking.

“Come on, brother,” Daryl said. “I saved you some. Finish up.”

He knew Rick was still finding it difficult to resist human blood. That’s why he solely depended on the blood bank.

Rick didn’t wait for Daryl to persuade him; his eyes turned blood-red, and his fangs all popped out. He grabbed the janitor’s wrist and punctured his fangs into the radial arteries.

Vampires hardly spared their victims unless they wanted to turn them. The janitor was just another victim who couldn’t be spared.

The sound of dominant footsteps approaching echoed deep into Daryl’s ears. Rick heard it, too, but was too busy getting his fill. It was difficult to let go now.

“Let’s go, brother,” Daryl whispered, taking hold of his brother. He pulled him away from the helpless janitor. They both moved one and a half times faster than the theoretical maximum for human speed, fleeing the scene before the person whose footsteps they had heard reached them.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed down the hallway, reaching into the newsroom. It was Nancy’s scream; she had just bumped into the janitor lying lifeless on the floor, as if he had been mauled by a wild animal.