(This originally happened in a thread over in General. The inadvertently presented writing prompt was, essentially, "a just-out-of-college Azula goes clubbing and realizes well in advance of the Big Moment that the person who's hooked up with her is a vampire on the hunt, but decides, the hell with it, let's see what happens.")
Clymene returned to her senses to find herself lying crumpled at the base of a brick wall under what looked like it had been a hotel's front awning. She tried to get up, but the spinning in her head made her reconsider doing so all at once, and for the moment she settled for sliding back down the wall and sitting there propped up against it.
Before her stretched the remains of what had been two city blocks of downtown New Constanza. It looked like it had been bombed from the air in her absence: buildings leaning crazily or toppled into the street, the pavement split up the middle as if by an earthquake. Spot fires still burned here and there despite the driving rain. Looking down at herself, she saw that her clubbing clothes were in rags, whole swatches of what had been an expensive velvet jacket and lace shirt torn away, her trousers shredded as if by some overenthusiastic avant-garde wardrobe artist. She shivered to think what her own flesh must have looked like if she'd been wearing the things when that happened, which, judging from the drying blood, she had.
"Wha... what happened?" she asked, aghast.
A low chuckle made her look to her left, too quickly, and the world swam for a moment before stabilizing on a view of the black-haired girl she'd singled out in the club that evening. What was her name? Susan? Sarah. That was it. She, too, was looking a bit the worse for wear, her clothes torn and burned. A bloodstained white bandage tied in a jaunty bow around her neck suggested what had become of the front of Clymene's shirt.
Despite this, and the fact that she'd been the victim of a vampire attack, Sarah looked entirely too cheerful about the whole situation. In fact, she seemed positively exhilarated, her amber eyes glittering with glee.
"Well," she said, sounding deeply amused, "that's complicated, but mostly, you did."
Clymene regarded the scene with wide eyes. "I did all this?"
"The lion's share. Well, I suppose if you want to get technical, the gas main did a fair bit of the heavy lifting."
"Sweet Elvis," Clymene murmured. "These are not the hoofprints of your normal God-fearing vampire."
"Indeed not," Sarah agreed, sitting down next to her in a companionable sort of way.
"This... this never happened to me before," Clymene heard herself saying in an amazed voice, as if explaining some strange behavior to a friend or lover. "Normally it's the human who freaks out. Who the hell are you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sarah replied.
They sat in a strangely friendly silence for a bit, watching the fires burn. Off in the distance, above the susurrus of the rain, came the faint sound of sirens, heralding the belated approach of the emergency services.
Sarah sighed and got to her feet again, dusting off what remained of her skirt. "Well, I must be going before the armed forces arrive. And you should pull yourself together and get inside, sunrise can't be that far off at this point. Thank you for the most entertaining evening I've had in... oh, years." She leaned down and patted Clymene's shoulder, then moved closer and murmured in her ear, "Perhaps this will teach you to consider your partners. By the way, the bill is in your name."
"Bitch," Clymene replied, but she was unable to muster any real resentment.
"On occasion," Sarah agreed cheerfully. Straightening, she rummaged in an inside pocket of her mostly-intact leather jacket, got out a card and a pen, and jotted a note on the one with the other.
"This was fun!" she said, then bent to tuck the card into Clymene's bra strap and kiss her on the cheek. "Call me sometime."
Clymene sat slumped against the wall, watching her saunter away, then raised her voice and called after her, "Hey!" Sarah paused, looking back, an eyebrow raised. "... I'll do that," said Clymene, feeling as awkward as a teenager.
Sarah smiled, turned, and walked off into the gathering morning, raising one hand above her shoulder in a chipper backhand wave as she went. Off to the east, the sky was just starting to go pink as she disappeared into the smoke at the end of the block and was gone.
"... Shit," Clymene grumbled, then dragged herself upright and stumbled off toward her apartment.
"Tapping the Wrong Vein" - a Desolation Angel Micro-Story by Benjamin D. Hutchins
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