Alley Cat
Crossroads

Three Years later…

In the past, the only thing that stood between me and those I loved was death. It was only after I left that I wished I was the one that was dead.

I tried to go back to how things were before I met Todd, before Shirisha and Raphael had inserted themselves back into my life. I returned back into my cat form and swore to myself that I would stay in that form forever. My mind would regress to a simple state. I would forget my name and who I am. I would become a normal alley cat wandering through the streets of New York City.

But as with all my plans, something always got in my way. Whether it was a young woman attacked by a blood thirsty vampire after a wild night at the club or a protester brutally bludgeoned to death by sadistic cops, it was like the world would not allow me to forget who I am.

Every time a police car explodes, people call my name. My name is the last thing that creeps out of a vampire’s mouth right before I incinerate them. Wolves learn to fear me. The witches keep their distance because they don’t want to associate themselves with someone like me.

“Helene Singh.”

“HELENE SINGH!”

“Someone call Helene Singh!”

I am a living ghost, a shadow that lurks around every corner. I see everything that happens in New York. If you’ve ever felt a sudden breeze that feels too sharp to be natural, that’s me. I am everywhere and nowhere. No one can escape from me.

It’s midnight. The sun has fully retreated into the horizon, but don’t be fooled. New York is the city that never sleeps. Night is the time of demons and vices and tonight I’m feeling particularly sinful.

I prowl around Queens and follow around a blurry shadow zipping through the dark. It’s fast, but I already know where he’s heading. The fresh smell of blood leads me to a Hilton hotel where I notice a pair of curtains fluttering out of a propped up window. I don’t want to waste time going through the lobby, so I scale the hotel building.

Some people notice. A little boy drops his jaw in awe and turns his back to fetch his mother. I wave at him through the window and continue climbing. The rest of the sights aren’t so charming. Most of the windows showcase people having sex. I politely climb over an adjacent window to avoid a woman whose breasts hang over a window sill. Her erotic moans fade into the night as she’s being plowed from behind by another woman wearing a strap-on. I chuckle to myself.

At least someone’s having fun tonight, I think as I pull myself up to the tenth floor. By the time I finish my business, someone else will be moaning as well. The cause won’t be as pleasurable though.

I finally arrive at the open window and grab onto a curtain to pull the rest of my body up. With a single haul, I swing my body through the window, tucking my limbs inward to roll along the floor. Rough carpet scrapes my skin raw, but I smile through it. I like how it stings.

I jump to my feet and stand alert. The smell of blood hits me harder than a bag of bricks. A surge of bile climbs up my throat, but I force it down. A whisper of disappointment erodes my conscience when I realize that I’m too late.

A young woman’s corpse lingers on the hotel bed. Her blood-drained veins bleach her entire corpse white. The only thing that adds a pop of color to her deathly white complexion is the crimson blood smeared all over her neck and her sheets. Despite all the atrocities I’ve seen throughout my lifetimes, vampire attacks are always gruesome. The woman had died with her dull lifeless eyes set towards the ceiling in terror. She’s an utter wretch, killed at the most vulnerable time, the time where dreams and death merge into one.

I never cared much for sleep anyway.

I see that the door is still locked and immediately go to shut the windows. The windows slam with a solid click, and a grim smile sweeps across my face.

“Trevorrrr.” My eerie sing-song voice dissipates into the air, joining the heavy stench of death. “I know you’re still in here.”

I bend down to break off the bed’s wooden leg. It breaks with a splintering snap. The sudden loss of support causes the dead girl to roll off the bed. A dull thump sounds from behind me, indicating that the girl has fallen on the floor.

I tread across the room with feather-like steps and constantly sweep my eyes around in the dark. A blur zips past me, and I take the chance to spear him. The wooden leg penetrates the vampire’s shoulder, pinning him against the wall. He reaches over with his other arm to free himself, but I lunge forward to dig the leg deeper into his shoulder. Black blood oozes down his wound, soaking into the fine fabric of his dress shirt. His head tilts back against the wall to let out an excruciating groan that feeds my adrenaline. It’s music to my ears.

“You should be proud of yourself Trevor. It took thirteen days to find you.”

Despite the pain I put him through, Trevor has the audacity to laugh in my face. I humor him by twisting the wooden leg deeper into his shoulder.

“ARGHH!”

My rumbling purr offsets his scream, hushing him into silence. “It sure took a while, but it wasn’t hard considering you left a whole trail of drained corpses for me to follow. What is it with you vampires being so messy? I would have thought that a good century or two was more than enough time to brush up your dining etiquette.”

Trevor spits in my face. A glob of saliva mixed with blood clings to my cheek. “Fuck you, Helene Singh! You’re the reason why vampires are starving in the first place!”

“Me?” I scoff. My voice is heavy with false indignation that aggravates Trevor even more. His straw-colored hair falls into his eyes, drawing my attention to his dangerously long fangs. I give into my curiosity and extend my finger to brush a single fang. It pricks my finger, drawing blood. The scent of my blood causes black veins to appear on Trevor’s face. His eyes turn black as well. He hisses at me, and I grin. “The Russos have been back in business for the last two years. How’s it my fault that they upped their price?”

Trevor bites his lip, and I see it. There’s a flash of defeat that eclipses his face. I want to pity him, but I’ve killed too many times to be moved. Each murder numbs my heart. I think I’ve lost the sensation to feel.

“I’m just trying to survive.” The black veins disappear from his face, making him appear disturbingly human and afraid. “I’ve only been a vampire for ten years. I was doing well for myself. I only ever fed on charmed blood. I–I never hurt anyone.”

“You killed twenty people over the course of thirteen days.” My tone is cold and candid, echoing the essence of prosecutor and judge.

“People are getting shot in the streets! The smell of blood is everywhere!” The black veins criss-cross his face. They tangle his skin in spiderwebs, and I watch them disappear just as fast. Trevor fights himself. “I swear! I’m trying so hard to be good!”

I pause for a moment to stare into Trevor’s frightened eyes. The green in mine calms him down. His short breaths elongates to a steady rhythm, and I take advantage of the situation.

“I will incinerate you. I will watch you burn. And when you’re nothing but ash, I will spread you all throughout Queens so every vampire would know what you did.”

“Please! No!”

I tilt my palms towards the ceiling. Flames ignite in both my hands, reflecting the same image back in the irises of Trevor’s eyes. Trevor cries. Tears stream down his face in floods.

“If you let me live, I’ll never kill another human ever again!”

I bring the fire closer to Trevor’s head, and he whimpers another plea.

“I made a mistake! I made an honest mistake! Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

I don’t give him the satisfaction by answering. I bring both flames to his head. Intense light burns my eyes as the flames consume him. It snuffs out his screams, silencing him into permanent death. His death is quick because vampires catch fire easily. Their skin may as well be made of paper.

The light dies down until all that remains is a pile of black ash. I instinctively remove a drawer from a nightstand near the bed and commence transferring the ash into the drawer. The ash sticks onto my palms, coating my fingers black. I ignore the dead girl lying on the floor and finish moving the rest of Trevor into the drawer.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me,” I whisper to the ash. “But it’s okay. I’ll spread you somewhere nice. I’ll spread you on the bridge. You can finally enjoy the sunrise.”

I pick up the drawer and head towards the window, contemplating how I’ll manage to climb down the hotel without dropping Trevor, when I realize that it would be much easier to head out the door.

I venture down the hall and take the elevator. By the time I arrive at the lobby, there’s already police swarming the floor. Half of them cram into an elevator while the other half crowds around the yellow tape that follows the perimeter. It locks us in, enclosing everyone inside.

I’m trapped.

I look down at the pile of ash sliding within the drawer and apologize. “Sorry Trevor. Looks like you’ll have to spend the rest of your eternity resting at Hilton Hotel.”

I abandon the drawer on a coffee table and hide behind a marble statue of Eros. I strip myself naked and transform into a cat. The blinding green light I emit makes the statue glow green for a brief second before dying down. I walk away from the statue on all four paws and scamper towards the revolving doors which are blocked off with rows of yellow tape.

I’m one moment away from slipping past a detective’s ankles and letting myself out of the hotel when a pair of greedy hands scoops me off the ground. I meow in distress as the hands turn me over belly-side-up. The stranger cradles me in his arms, rocking me back and forth like a baby. I’m so angry that I toss and turn on my back. My claws extend from my paws, and I swipe at the stranger’s face in blind anger.

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME!”

But all my words translate to hisses and meows. It draws eyes from every corner, and the stranger flashes them an apologetic look that speaks for himself.

I continue to squirm in his hands until he lifts me high in the air and draws me close to his face. It forces me to look at him, really look at him. I behold the tight dark curls in his hair, the mature stubble that lines his sharp jawline. His golden chain reminds me of a luxurious dog collar, which floods my mind with memories. I become lost in his coffee brown eyes and the cleverness of his mouth. Mixed emotions tranquilize me. Nostalgia tenderizes my heart like a metal mallet to my tough organ. It’s only when he speaks to me that my heart hardens to its original cruel state.

“Ciao, bella.” Whatever shyness he feels evaporates, leaving behind nothing but smug air.

I greet him by dragging my claws against his cheek. The sharp pain causes him to let go, and I fall to the ground, landing effortlessly on all fours. People run to Luka with soft handkerchiefs in hand. A receptionist drops her phone to retrieve a med kit. Others seem ready to eradicate my existence from earth. I challenge them all with an intimidating glare, which keeps them in their place.

“Mr. Russo, are you alright?”

An older man rips his handkerchief from his coat pocket and brings his hand towards Luka. He recoils backward, politely declining the offer.

“I’m fine. I’m sure she did it out of love.” He says, looking right at me.

I support his claim with a hair-raising hiss.

“Are you sure you don’t need any medical attention, Mr. Russo?” A woman says with her cell phone already set to call 911. “Because I can––”

Luko rolls his eyes. He tries to pretend that he’s flattered by everyone’s attention, but a crinkle above his brows reveals his vexation. He’s suffocated. “Steph. There’s a dead girl ten floors above us. I’m pretty sure I’ll survive with a scratch.”

“But Mr. Russo––”

“I want to be left alone,” Luka says firmly. I watch the crowd disperse with interest. Luka carries himself with an authoritative disposition that didn’t exist three years ago, at least to my perception. He seems more comfortable with himself and less shy. It’s hard to believe that the man standing before me was the same boy that told me he loved me, the same boy that willingly bent his knee in submission, the same boy that held me as I bled and cried from gut-wrenching guilt.

When the crowd has spread out thin enough, it feels like we’re finally alone with each other. The yellow tape pushes us closer together, creating a messed up but intimate scene. I lean my head back to look at him. It must seem strange to anyone else looking at us from the outside: a fully grown man engaging in a stare down with a black cat. Life is strange.

But love is even stranger.

“I deserved that,” Luka says while gingerly caressing the scratch on his cheek. The wound is deeper than I initially thought. His tan skin turns red and swollen. I’ve succeeded in making his flesh angry but not his soul.

“I heard you’re killing vampires now. Wolves too. Should I be afraid of you?”

I slowly blink at him and pretend not to understand. But Luka knows me too well to play into my game. He kneels on the ground and pats his lap, summoning me to him.

“Helene.” My name sounds so strange when it’s not filled with hate. “Come.”

I sit down on the floor. I refuse to return to him. Not after everything that’s happened. Not after all the deceit, the lies...He and his family are the reason why New York is in shambles, why vampires curse my name.

“I’m sorry.” Luka’s voice cracks. His guilt sounds so genuine that it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” I want to say. “Sorry doesn’t glue back broken vases or resurrect the dead. Sorry doesn’t heal broken hearts or earn back trust that’s been lost. Sorry is a pathetic excuse; it’s a final plea for forgiveness when nothing can be fixed and when you’ve done your worst.”

I want to tell him that and many more things, but he can’t understand me. Not like this.

Luka leads me to the nearest restroom in the lobby and stands outside the door as he waits for me to change back into my human form. A bright flash of green leaks through the door cracks, marking the commencement of my transformation. When the light dies down, Luka’s voice penetrates the door.

“I sent someone to fetch you some clothes. It’ll be about ten minutes before she gets here.”

“Good.” My voice bounces off the slick walls of the bathroom. Upon hearing my voice, Luka chuckles softly under his breath.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“I missed your voice.”

A strange feeling creeps up my throat; I squash it.

“I certainly don’t miss you.”

“I think your little love mark says otherwise.” His words linger in the air, bubbling and toiling with flirtatious accents that make my skin itch.

“I scratched you because your family tried to kill me.”

“I’m really sorry about that.”

“Your apology means nothing. You’re a liar.”

“You lied too.”

“Yeah? Well, you and your family exploit the weak and vulnerable to fatten your pockets with drug money.”

The spite and malice in my tone has a whiplash effect. It hurts Luka first, and the force is so strong that I recoil as well. There’s a painfully long silence that divides us. The trickling water from the sinks adds to the tension, making me feel more lonelier than ever. I press my forehead against the door and a muted thud tells me that Luka does the same.

“I stopped taking the wolf stabilizers.”

Concern immediately snaps me alert; I hate myself for it.

“Why?”

“The night you got shot, I never forgave myself for not being able to protect you. So I stopped taking them.” A bitter laugh seeps through the door. It gives me chills.

“You seem to be handling it well.”

“As of now.” Without having to see him, I can tell he’s shrugging his shoulders. “But the first two years were tough. The smallest things were enough to set me off. I lashed out at people. I became vulgar. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. The night sweats were awful and sometimes I saw things that weren’t there. I killed people, Hel. I could have easily been one of the wolves you slain.”

Luka waits for my response, but I’m empty. “And sometimes I wished that you would find me. I was disgusted at myself. I kept wondering if you could ever love me again, knowing that I was a drug addict, a murderer, a son of mobsters.” Luka lets out a disturbing laugh that deafens my breaths. “I’m not so perfect now, am I Helene?”

A sudden spike of pride cuts through his self-deprecating parade. It’s a peculiar contradiction. He’s ashamed of his flaws, yet the idea of being imperfect is a relief for him. To him, perfection was a trap, a teetering ladder with no apparent destination he dreaded to climb.

“No. You’re not,” I say with a heavy sigh. All the disappointment I’ve ever endured in my lives crushes me all at once. My voice hardens and cracks under its own pressure. “I was stupid for thinking otherwise. You ended up being just as shitty as every other person I ever loved.”

“Helene—“

“It’s fine.” My voice wobbles as I stifle a sob. “I left Trevor on a coffee table. I guess that makes us both shitty.”

I hear nothing on the other side until I press my ear to the door. I’m surprised to hear muffled laughter. My face heats from embarrassment.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You killed a vampire and still had the heart to collect his ashes.”

“So?” My voice rises abnormally high.

“He’s a ripper.” Luka’s light-hearted tone solidifies to a more serious one. “He’s basically a mosquito with a bottomless pit for a stomach. He’s a menace to society.”

“Well, yeah. That’s kinda why I killed him.”

“You still wanted him to rest in peace after you killed him. You wanted to give him a funeral when no one would. You’re a very loving person, Helene. You’re not as jaded as you think.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?” Luka’s tone is childishly innocent, and it pisses me off.

“Stop trying to connect with me. We’re not friends. I don’t love you. And when I finally get some clothes, I never want to see you ever again.”

“...you really know how to break a man’s heart.”

“I also know how to break a man’s bones.”

I hear Luka wince on the other side, and I don’t regret it one bit. I am not the same Helene Singh he fell in love with. I’m not going to leave until I drive the truth into his thick canine skull: I’ve changed.

But so has he.

Luka erupts in a cacophony of laughter. It’s not the attractive kind, the kind that makes girls blush or the kind that gets your heart racing. It’s a piercing laughter that drains the hearer of life, the kind that petrifies you from hair to toe. His head bangs on the door repetitively with such a force that it can split his skull.

Luka really is his sister’s brother.

Luka kills off his own laughter, ending it with a sharp gasp. “Sorry! Sorry. I’m quite prone to psychotic breaks.”

I push aside my unease to satisfy my own curiosity. “So is it true then? Your father bit you to make you stronger?”

“Yes. It’s not like I wanted to. I was only ten years old and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint my father. Four-hundred-and-thirty-two years later and look where it got me. I got disowned by my family for the very thing they started out of their love for me. They chose drugs and money over me. Now I’ve lost everything.”

I don’t know what to say when the door cracks open just wide enough to let in some clothes.

“I hope you like the plaid shirt and overalls. It kinda gives Texas vibes.”

I say nothing and put on the clothes. They’re two sizes bigger than what I need and when I run over to the mirror to check myself out, I withhold a scream when I see a living scarecrow reflected in the mirror.

I storm out of the restroom, stomping past Luka, and ripping the yellow tapes. The officer in charge of blocking the exit groans in exasperation. I’m sorry but not sorry.

Luka tags along by my side. I cross streets, climb buildings, and cut through alleyways. Every attempt to lose him fails. He’s annoyingly persistent. I stop in the middle of a crosswalk and turn to him.

“Stop following me!”

A car screeches when it breaks, stopping in just enough time before hitting us both. The driver cusses at us in car honks, and I flip him the finger.

Luka pouts, “C’mon, Hel! I thought we were really bonding for a moment.”

I scream so loud that it strains my throat. “For the last time! I. Don’t. Like. You. Get it through your thick fucking skull!”

HONK! HONK!

I turn to the car and scream at him too. “SHUT UP!”

“Just give me another chance to make it up to you!” Luka takes my hands in his, but I yank my hand away. It doesn’t discourage him. “We can be honest with each other now! No more secrets! No more lies! Everything’s already out in the open now. What’s there left to lose?”

HONK! HONK!

I bang on the hood of the car with both my fists. The driver’s muffled vulgarity makes it way to my ears, joining the dissonance of traffic noises and the scraping feet of other pedestrians walking by.

I’ve had enough.

“NO! I’m done with giving people second chances! My best friend is gone! My exes moved on! And you’re...you’re psycho!”

Some pedestrians shout at me from across the street. “YOU’RE BLOCKING THE STREET, LADY!”

I suck in a deep breath to shout back at the random pedestrian, but Luka interrupts me only to correct me. “I’m half psycho.”

“WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?!”

The driver steps out of his car, holding a loaded pistol in his hand. He brandishes his pistol at us and yells. “Listen here, Pal! I got a job to get to and rent I need to pay! So either you move or we’re gonna have some problems!”

I begin to stumble backwards at the sight of the gun, but Luka’s eyes light up. “Alright, Hel.” He charges at the armed man, tackling him into his own car. The gun goes off. It blasts a bullet across the street, crashing into a window of a nearby building. “The difference between a half psycho and a full psycho is––”

The man punches Luka in the gut. He doubles over but recovers just in time when the man tries to grab him by the neck. Luka throws his back against the man and takes his arm, swinging the man’s entire body over his shoulder. The man falls splat on the ground.

“––half psychos don’t feel fear.”

Luka stomps on the man’s hand, forcing him to let go of the pistol. Luka bends down to pick up the weapon and beholds it with fascination. His face is reflected in its pristine silver gleam. He grins and points the pistol at the man lying on the ground.

“They don’t feel guilt.”

I think he’s ready to shoot and prepare to turn away when he draws his pistol back and puts the weapon back on safety mode.

“But they also have a code of ethics that they strictly abide to. Abstaining from unnecessary murder is one of them.”

Luka hands the gun to me, which I tentatively receive. We stare at each other for a moment until police sirens wail in the background. I take Luka’s hand and run for it.

It feels like I’m going back in time, to the time when I was just a young girl running through the mountains. Panic squeezes my chest, and I feel afraid again. I hate that I’m constantly reliving my worst nightmares. I’m bound to repeat the same mistakes.

When will I ever learn?

Life is a messy composition, an overlapping series of crossroads where people often run alongside each other until their paths diverge. With Luka running alongside me, I begin to realize a new possibility, an optimistic one. It doesn’t matter who you begin your journey with. It doesn’t matter who stays until the end. For now, our paths have intersected again, giving way to the idea that no one is meant to be alone.

Not even me.

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