Murder

The movements are very light. As if having invisible wings, Xiao Hua felt freedom accompanied by overflowing joy.  Jump from one roof of one building to another. His silhouette is graceful and slender, printed in black against a full moon.

Finally, hugging the damp air, Xiao Hua landed his feet on the deserted sidewalk of a street. The sky was pitch black with a streak of silver glitter.  Not long after, it drizzled.
The few people who were still roaming the streets rushed here and there to escape the faint slanting rain.

A stiff silence fell, silence in thoughts as well as words as Xiao Hua stood in the darkness. Only the faint flames of the street lamps shone through, casting their glow onto the wet streets as if they were underwater.

A man in his thirties named Huang Yan had closed his coffee shop at exactly twelve in the evening and he had just gotten off one stop. He walked hastily through the drizzle.  Passing through quiet and minimally lit roads without hesitation. Moving away from the center of the highway where vehicles were still passing, there were only small and faint sounds on this route coming from the surrounding houses. Then the man heard a faint, unusual growl. For a moment he stopped walking, sharpened his hearing, but it was no use.

The voice disappeared in a gentle flow of wind that was eventually swallowed by the random sounds around him. He walked again against the wet wind and turned right, onto another empty street.

Something flashed above his head.  Like a giant bat. But when he looked up, there was nothing above him.

Huang Yan's breathing started to become labored, and his alert instincts sharpened. He knew that he was being watched but couldn't immediately find out who it was.  Moving a little more, the corner of his eye caught the silhouette of a tall young man, standing at one corner of the street he was going to pass, not far from him. He wore a crumpled white shirt, black trousers and shiny shoes.  Definitely not the look of a little street punk. Huang Yan tried to ignore him but the young man suddenly chuckled and growled.

"Blood ... this scent, ahh ..." A hoarse voice that wasn't clear whether it was a man or a woman moaning disturbed Huang Yan's footsteps.

"Who are you??" he snorted at the young man, who was still standing stiffly in the gloom.

"Be careful with the Rose Queen ... " growled again, full of threat.

Huang Yan approached him, momentarily unsure. But finally he frowned. The color of the young man's eyes was very strange. A savage gleam, a vicious grin decorated his paper-pale face with several reddish-black spots like flickering embers.

"Get lost!" Immediately, Huang Yan moved back and immediately left the strange young man behind.

Xiao Hua, under the powerful control of a monstrous entity, laughed happily while observing this insolent man more closely. Should he do something to awaken their knowledge? To get them talking about it again after a century? He couldn't help but laugh.  But he didn't want to waste time. His thirst was raging, and  there would be enough blood and satisfaction soon.  He should thank his beloved victim.

As fast as a bolt of lightning, Xiao Hua jumped up, blocking the poor Huang Yan. Without a word, it lunges at its prey, pulling it into a cold embrace.

"Bastard, leave me!"  Huang Yan still had time to curse and struggle, grabbing and hitting the two pale hands that reached out to him. But that didn't last long. The next second was dark.

Xiao Hua's eyes were closed, his teeth went straight through the victim's artery and his tongue licked the blood, savoring the taste. A small flash of heat burned itself in his heart in a second. Huang Yan's body floundered for a moment, then went limp.

Xiao Hua was still hugging his victim, his lips pressed against the victim's weak throat. He could feel his pulse.  The desire for the perfect drink was almost more than he could bear. Sin and thirst.

Finally he let the body fall onto the wet road. He licked his soft lips, as he stared at the victim's misty eyes, wide open blankly at the sky that was still dropping a drizzle.

"Goodbye," he said with an evil smile.

He stood for a moment, motionless on the quiet street. And the thirst gradually fades. Growling once again, Xiao Hua raised his light body, and sped off, leaping over roof after roof.

The full moon in the Phoenix sky was still sailing behind the clouds.  Peeking, stalking him.

*****

Xiao Hua woke up with a fright. He had dreamed of wandering a deserted street. He felt like he had seen the man before. And even now in this quiet apartment room he felt an alarming disorientation.
He spoke to the man. Even laughed.  Did that really happen? No, this is just a dream. He wanted out of there.  Thus his mind repeatedly rejected everything he vaguely remembered.

Xiao Hua sat on the bed. There was no sound except the faint hum of the air conditioner. Strangely, he was wet, either from rain, or from sweating.  Why was he thinking about so many strange things tonight? For a moment he couldn't shake the feeling. He looked at him again—his drooping head, his empty gaze. He could almost hear the buzzing of the insects in the trees and saw his gaze back at him, clouded with fear.

My God, what happened?

He got out of bed and walked silently across the floor until he stood in front of the thin white curtains, peering out at the roof of the tall building and the dim neon lights twinkling in its window pane.

Morning light emerged from behind the clouds above the top of the tower.  Xiao Hua sighed many times and gradually his head became clear.

He had jumped out the window, flying somewhere. Then there was a mad thirst. Damned desire. Flashes of events that left traces in his soul, but he couldn't remember clearly. Just a vague image, like a scene from a movie he had seen long ago and forgotten.

Xiao Hua went to the mirror on the wall, examining his reflection. That face did not change. It's just a little messy, then the shirt is stained and wet. Did he develop a fever during his restless sleep?

Trembling, Xiao Hua raised his hands to touch his neck and chest. His fingers touched button after button of the messy shirt. This wasn't the first time he had woken up in a confused state. But he couldn't remember what happened or what he did. Only this time, some scenes are still visible, appearing and disappearing, sometimes clear, then fading.

Wait! His fingers stopped on his smooth pale chest.

He had felt this since last night.  There's something missing, don't know what. Now he remembers it clearly.  The antique necklace Hei Yanjing gave him which had been attached to his body, is now missing.

Oh Lord ...

Xiao Hua fell backwards. Suddenly overcome by panic and other emotions. Sad. Well, he felt sad. He sat on the sofa in the room, put his face in his palms, ruffled his hair absently.

He felt darkness slowly swallowing him without the power to resist. As long as the necklace accompanied him, he felt a soothing energy, and he no longer woke up in a confused state.  Nightmares occasionally come, but he will be fine.
How about now?
Was Hei Yanjing really just giving the necklace as a friendship gift?
Or does he have other goals, and knows a bigger secret?

*****

Phoenix City Homicide Detective Henry Cox opened the car door and stepped out into the morning air on Vacoast Street. He knew right away that things were going to get bad. He had seen out-of-control press before, but never like this. Journalists were crowded around and very aggressive.

"Detective!"

They shouted at him repeatedly as he entered, the street filled with camera flashes.

As Henry and his detectives pushed their way through the crowd, the reporters barely moved an inch. At 45, muscular and tough, with short gray hair and sly eyes, Henry was a tough guy, and used to shoving overly pushy reporters. But this time, it wasn't so easy.  The reporters knew that the case of finding a bloodless dried corpse was not the first and this was a big story, they would not give up hunting for it.

A man in his thirties named Huang Yan, who worked as an employee at a fairly well-known coffee shop in the city, was found dead on a deserted street in a pathetic condition. It is certain that he was murdered on his ill-fated journey home. The method is almost the same as the previous case.  But it's a little different from what happened in Savanne and Henrietta.  The only thing the victims had in common was the blood they had sucked out. The fang wound on the neck explains that an immortal creature like a vampire, which is often the subject of fairy tales and myths in some circles, is now suspected of roaming Phoenix City and other cities.

"Detective Henry! There are reports that the victim was killed by a wild animal or monster. Is that true?"

He ignored them.

"Why were there no security measures after the previous case failed to be solved, detective?" asked another reporter.

Another reporter shouted, "There are reports that this is a vampire serial murder. The perpetrator wanders from place to place and kills randomly. Do you have any comments?"

When he arrived at the location where the bodies were found demarcated by yellow lines, he turned around and faced them.

The crowd fell silent.

"Vampire?"  he repeated.  "Can't you fantasize better than that?"

Before they could ask any other questions, he moved his hands as a sign of refusing questions and answers then was busy talking to other officers who were already at the crime scene.

Actually Henry was tired. He was sleep deprived and struggled to focus on his partner who was constantly feeding him information. He needed rest but this was the third murder this month, not counting other cases outside of the vampire murders. He wants warm weather, greenery, soft sand under his feet. He wanted a place where no one killed anyone, where they didn't even think about committing suicide. He wanted a different life.

Without having to look, he already knew the crime scene was quiet at night. Why don't they install CCTV on this road?

"There are no witnesses," said one of the detectives walking beside him.  "Forensics say it happened between 12.15am and 1am. There wasn't much sign of a struggle."

He took a deep breath until everything slowly calmed down. He could think again.

He crouched at the side of the corpse, reached out, put on a latex glove, and gently moved the victim's neck until he could see the familiar fang puncture wounds.

He had seen it all in his twenty years as a cop. He had seen people killed in every way possible, even in ways he couldn't imagine in his worst nightmares. But he had never seen anything like this, not before he found one after another of the dried corpses in Phoenix City.

Not because it's particularly bloody.  Not because some horrific violence has occurred. That's something else.  Something real. Too quiet. The shriveled, bluish-pale body was facing upwards, and under the sunlight, the two perfect holes right in its jugular vein looked terrifying.

No blood. There were no signs of struggle. No torn clothes. There are no body parts that are out of place. It was as if a bat had descended, sucked his blood very cleanly, then flown away, without touching anything. It's scary.

What can do this? he wondered. 
An animal? Somebody? New type of weapon? Or did he do it for a ritual?

This is his number one homework assignment.

[Tbc]

***Mauritian Moonrise***
By Shenshen_88