Bored at Night

He felt rather confused at her answer to his question. She must not have listened correctly, either that or she was paying too much attention to his blood pumping through each vein.

"That was not what I meant. What I asked was what do you expect to gain from coming to my neck, then pulling away." He corrected himself, "Because that is what you seem to be doing, if anything it is giving your neck a workout" He told her, a small smile came out.

"I told you twice already, I'm savoring the moment!" Irene knew very well that James could tell that that was a lie, but it was either that or tell him the truth, and telling him the truth seemed impossible.

She could barely admit it to herself that her humanity was trying to break through, that it still existed in some secluded and never used corner of her mind, probably locked up in cage that no one but she could open. Telling James all that would be like walking over to a stranger and saying 'hey, I'm a vampire.' She had carried the secret of her humanity for so long, and she had never told anyone.

James smirked at her answer. He knew that it was a lie if she continued to spout it out of her mouth several times in the midst of their conversation. But, he did know that his questions were getting closer to her then his attempts to run away, or torture with vervain ever did. He glanced into her eyes once more, they still appeared to have their vampiric essence still within.

"Do you dislike your humanity so much that you would be willing to kill me just to bury it further?" He did not know how she would react to that question, but with his arms still pressed against the wall behind him, there was not anything he could do.

Irene took a second to ponder what James had said. She had never thought of her humanity as something that could be disliked or not disliked, just as something to be defeated. She supposed she did dislike it, though, enough for it to be called hate. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone to such lengths to imprison it again. But was she willing to kill James? She hadn't thought of it as something that came from her will, but rather from necessity. Maybe it was just easier to do it thinking that she hadn't done it willingly.

"I guess I do." She answered, speaking honestly for the first time in the second part of their conversation.

As Irene thought about something, James just looked at her, somewhat of a stare or a gaze, wondering what she was exactly doing, or planning to do, that involved James. His eyes seemed to widen a little as she answered. How could somebody hate their humanity so much, that they would bury it? He did not seem to get it, being a human and all, he didn't have the opportunity to switch it off, let alone bury it within.

"I guess you really are gone, then." He told her, truthfully. If she had buried it so far inside, there was probably no chance that he would be able to 'unlock' it.

Irene was glad that James seemed to have finally understood the truth about her. She was a ripper, or at least she was halfway to being a ripper, and there was no turning back. More than that, she didn't want to turn back. Maybe a small part of her did, the part she had long forgotten about, the part that had died not long after she was turned, but her main part didn't, and that was what really mattered.

"Yes." She replied, though it didn't come out that she thought it would have. Instead of saying it in her usual sure-of-herself tone, she merely whispered it.

He glanced down at her two arms, which still seemed to be like a vice-grip against his elbows. They tightened more so after her answer, seemingly burying her humanity, or attempting to. James looked to her again, fixating his gaze on her mouth as the fangs still seemed to show themselves, but only partially.

"So, now that we have that fig..- Wait." He paused, finally cluing in on her whispered answer. "Why did you whisper yes?" The answer seemed lost on him, as could be told by his face. Perhaps she was just scared of her humanity.

The second that whisper came out of her mouth, Irene already regretted having ever said anything, but as she heard James' question, she regretted it even more. She had to learn to keep her mouth shut, otherwise things like that happened. She just couldn't have control over every single thing she said, it was just impossible. Something was bound to come out wrong.

"I didn't." Irene lied, knowing very well that it wouldn't work, especially because she knew that the look in her eyes as she glanced up at James betrayed her.

James watched the expression closely on Irene's face, noting the look on it to her answer. Was she, in fact, considering that the switch could be turning on by itself? James did not even seem to know if it could, he didn't even have any recollection of how exactly the switch was well.. switched, or where it was even located.

His wrist appeared to be doing the same, although it was now beginning to swell around the broken bone and turn purple from red. The bone was actually piercing threw the skin, causing a little blood to trickle down his hand every minute or so, dropping onto the floor of the Grill.

"whatever you say, you are the one who is just lying to yourself though" He noted, glancing down to his arm to assess the blood that had been trickling downward.

Not even the smell of James' blood, which was dripping from his broken wrist, managed to get Irene into killing mode. She had developed a very good self-control over the years, but the smell of blood always made her eager to feed, so when she noticed that it didn't, she began to get even more worried. Sure, she felt hungry, but she didn't feel the urge to kill James, to drain him dry.

"You're the one lying to himself, James, thinking that I could change. I'm a killer, I have been a killer for a very long time and I will always be a killer. There's just no changing that." Irene said, glancing at James with a look she seldom wore, a look that was almost pleading.

James scoffed at her reply. She seemed, to him, to be just proving his point for him. Why did she continue spouting that she was a killer, and explaining it, while he continued standing there, alive, with only a broken wrist. He had to ask himself that several times before he would reply, unsure of her true motives, if she even had any.

His view moved back up toward Irene after looking at the blood drop from his middle finger every few minutes, wrist was still in pain. "Well, then, Irene. Tell me," He said, pausing. "then why am I standing here still alive?" He knew what would probably come out of her mouth again: something along the lines of 'she is savoring the moment' or some lie like that, but he did not seem to mind.

Irene might be stubborn, but she was not stupid. She knew that answering that she was savoring the moment one more time would be just dumb, and she was sure she could come up with a better excuse. Or at least she hoped she could, because she had no idea what she could say even is she was to tell James the truth.

"I..." Just can't do it, she added mentally."I'm taking my time. I hate to rush into the killing part right away, it takes away some of the fun." Irene knew that it was almost the same as what she had said before, but she really couldn't come up with anything better, not while she desperately tried to find the killer in herself.

The pain from his wrist was beginning to get a little worse as it stung up his arm and the blood began to drain quicker as the blood began to form a puddle on the floor. He soon looked back into Irene's vampiric eyes as her fangs remained somewhat elongated, continuing to believe that she would not kill him.

"But, from what I have heard, you enjoy the killing." He told her, stance remained strong, attempting to hide the pain from his wrist. "So why not just rip my head off then, seeing as you have taken your time rather well?"

Though Irene wished she could, she was just unable to bring herself to sink her fangs into James' neck. She wanted nothing more than to feel his warm blood flowing into her mouth with every heartbeat, to feel the power rise she always felt when she fed, but every time she tried to make herself kill him, she found that she was unable to move.

As James had said, she enjoyed the kill, though she liked the hunt even more than the feeding part. It made no sense whatsoever for Irene to just freeze like she had. It wasn't her first kill, she wasn't being forced to do it against her will, she wouldn't die if she bit him, she would just feed.

"I do enjoy the kill. But the thrill of the hunt... Nothing compares to it." Irene told him, her lips curving up into a wicked smile, a true wicked smile. "And I will kill you, don't worry about it."

James' attention slowly moved around as he noticed Irene's freeze after he had finished asking his question. It was odd, how a old vampire like her were unable kill him, although for some time he had known that he would soon be walking out of the Grill with all of his limbs attached. He soon had seen the smirk grow across Irene's face as she spoke her evil words which were nothing but lies, and she knew it.

His eyes soon traveled to her lips, which surprisingly, were not covered in blood. "You continue to tell yourself these things, but you don't even believe them" He told her, knowing full well it was the truth. The blood from his wrist continued to slowly drain onto the floor of the Grill as his gaze stayed on the Vampire in front of him.

What James had said was nothing if not the truth, but Irene didn't really care. She usually all for knowing the truth, and staying in the dark was one of the things she just couldn't bear, but when it came to situations like the one she was in, she'd rather keep on fooling herself. It was the best way to survive.

"If I don't, then I have been lying to myself for a long time, and I don't think my victims would agree with you. They got to see a lot of the killer in me, James, a lot of it." Irene said, glad that she hadn't completely lost touch with her ripper side. The words came out just as easily as they used to.

His ears appeared to perk up as Irene spoke, the truth, for once. It was probably true what she was spouting currently, seeming to get angrier the more she spoke of her kills. The Grill was beginning to empty out now, as the night progressed. It had to have been after midnight now, almost complete blackness outside; besides the streetlamps. There was little to no noise coming from the street just outside, people must have already been sleeping in their beds while James was in the Grill with a Vampire whom was threatening to rip out his throat.

As he brought his attention back inside after peering out the window, he glanced to Irene again. "Maybe so. But tonight, you don't seem like that killer, you seem almost human." He told her, rather stern but had a sensitive look on his face, trying to make it look that much more real.

Human. That was something Irene wasn't called often. Ripper, killer, murderer, yes, but not human. Somehow, it almost sounded like an insult. She had spent so much time trying not to be human, to embrace her darker side, her need to kill, that she couldn't see how being human could be a good thing, even though a part of her, a part which was desperately trying to break out of her mind, screamed to her that it was a good thing, that the way she usually acted was the bad thing.

"Human? You really are deluded. There's nothing human about me but appearance, James. It has been that way for a long time, and there's no turning back. I'll never be human." Irene's voice lowered just slightly as she spoke the last sentence, and she hoped James wouldn't notice it.

He slowly listened to her words, the grip remained on his elbows; pinning him to the wall like a dart board, waiting to be impaled. His eyes began to follow hers, wondering exactly what Irene was saying over and over and over again, like one of those old record players with the busted needle.

He glanced down to his wrist for the thrice time that night, the blood was beginning to dry up a little; the puddle, however, was bigger then it had been the last time. "That may be. But you just standing there talking seems to be proving my point for me. You can't kill me"

"No, no it doesn't." She murmured, more to herself than to James.

What was happening to her? She was absolutely frightened, and that didn't happen often. She could face other vampires, fight werewolves and hunters, but she couldn't stand the thought of becoming more human. Why was she so frightened? Even Irene herself didn't have a clue. She never thought she'd ever feel so fragile, like if she pushed herself a little more she might break. But she wouldn't show it, and she would push herself. As far as she was concerned, she just couldn't break. That was a human thing, and there was nothing human left in her.

"Just because I'm letting you live for a little while doesn't mean I'm not going to kill you. Don't count on me backing down. I never back down from a kill." Irene said, her voice coming out wicked even though her mental voice was much more like the one she used to sport when she was human. Innocent and just slightly mischievous.

James laughed at her response, believing it to be a little on the 'fibbing' side rather the being truthful. As he looked upon her, she appeared to be putting a lot of thought into the topic at hand; moreso then he would have thought normally.

But James appeared to be getting rather irritated now with Irene, attempting to force her off of him. Which, to him, was a little tougher then usual, with his broken wrist and the loss of blood he had sustained. "Fine then, so be it. But that is indeed, what you are doing right now. Backing down."

What Irene had said was true, she never backed down from a hunt, and she didn't plan on making that her first time. She would manage to hunt him, no matter what it took her. There was no way she would let whatever was left of her human side resurface. Of course, she refused to acknowledge that she had a human side, which made her even more determined not to let it resurface. If it did, she would be forced to face the reality that she would never be able to get rid of it completely. A part of it, even if only a small part, would always be there with her, trying to break out of the confines of the darkest and less visited part of her mind.

"I am not backing down!" Irene snarled at him, her eyes narrowing and her grip on his elbows fighting considerably.

James appeared to become more agitated and frustrated with her, not allowing her grip to loosen on his elbows as he continued to fight her strength and get free, There did not seem to be a point to it though, Irene hadn't had blood in a little while, so her cravings were probably coming back, but when they did, James did not want to be near her, incase she did infact bite down onto his jugular.

His broken wrist was making it a lot more painful to attempt his jail-break, bringing up one of his legs and swiftly aimed a kick at her right knee cap, hoping it connected. "Neither am I. I guess that is what makes us.. Alike"

Being hit by James so many times was starting to get her annoyed, and when Irene was annoyed bad things happened. Still, she didn't feel the need to kill him. Nothing seemed to able to spark within her the wish to kill, not even thinking about all the times he had hurt her that day. With an improvised stake, with vervain and now by kicking her on her knee cap. He'd certainly been creative.

She was, though, determined not to let go. Throughout the centuries she'd learned to endure pain, and the wounds human strength could make weren't nearly as severe as what she was used to. She had to admire James for his courage, though. Most of her victims weren't nearly as daring as him. Almost in an act of instinct, she tightened her grip around James' elbows, the thought that she might be hurting him and that she should loosen up her grip passing briefly through her mind before she mentally scolded herself and erased that thought.

"You're not getting away." Irene said, wincing slightly even as she tried to hide her pain.

After hitting Irene on the kneecap, he thought for sure that he would have been able to get away. With the amount of pain he inflicted, her cravings must have been through the roof with all the healing she had to have been doing to her body. His fist soon clenched, the one with the wrist which was not broken, prepared to punch her or do something to allow himself enough time to get away, and perhaps come back tomorrow, or the next day, or the following day after that to get a drink when it was... Safer.

The Grill was pretty much empty now, the chairs were beginning to get slid back on top of the tables to make more room so it would be easier to clean afterwards. But Irene's grip on his elbows appeared to get tighter, as more strength was applied to his ligaments, causing his fist to become unclenched by the pain that she was inflicting upon his arm, and his wrist.

Once he had settled down a little, Irene spoke, somewhat of the truth that time. "Don't you see, we are alike. More alike then other supernaturals in this town. Neither of us are going to give up while the other is here." He said, pausing as he could feel his wrist bone continue to stick outside of the skin, whilst the blood dried up around the area. "your humanity is showing, probably a first for you in a long while. Because of me"