Cutler had found a rat in his garage. He sat holding the thing in his hands, watching it twist and turn. He was shaking at the cold and with hunger. He closed his eyes.

"Rachel, ask me in,"

"Nick what's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Ask me in?"

"You've been missing for days, I've been worried sick. I telephoned your mother, your office… Your secretary, she said you had met someone and you were working for him, what happened?"


She sighed. "Come on in, I've just put the kettle on, and then you can tell me where you've been."

Cutler leaned back. He hadn't slept. He managed not to kill his wife; his love for her was still there even though he was a complete monster. Instead he had to lie to her, and that alone made him want to rip out his eyes, her fucking face as she accepted his bullshit for what it was. Then they had gone to bed. And he had kissed her goodnight, and he told her he loved her. And he had pushed her hair from her eyes. Told her that she was beautiful and watched her drift off to sleep.

Then he had wanted to kill her.

He wanted to tear her throat out and rip her to pieces and drink her dry.

Her heartbeat was music and her blood. Jesus Christ, God only knew about her blood and how it could taste of wine. He stared at her, clinging to the memories, caught between wanting to kill her and wanting to save her.

The lines blurred so much that during the night, he thought he should turn her.

So he ran off into the garage, hunger burning.

He looked down at the rat that was still struggling against his grip. He snapped its neck and drained it into a bucket of water to make it last longer. He stood up shakily before pouring some of the liquid into a glass and putting it to one side. He stared at it. He closed his eyes before reaching out to grab it.

Someone grabbed his wrist and he looked up.

"Did you think this was the end?" Hal asked.

Cutler stared, his entire frame going rigid at the mere sight of him. Hal knew. Hal fucking knew that Cutler wanted to get away from this.

"Did you think that deification comes without small print?" Hal asked.

Cutler made a decision. "What do I have to do?"

The light from the bedroom came on and Rachel's voice sounded. "Nick?"

Hal grinned as Cutler looked up.

"Who is it?" Rachel called.

Cutler looked back at Hal who was now grinning madly, the look of hunger in his eyes. He knew what his maker was thinking.

"Not her please," He said quietly, trying to keep it together.

"Nick?" She called again.

Cutler stared at Hal for a millisecond before looking back to his house. "No one!" He called "Just some people from work, just… Just go back to bed!"

"Humanity and mercy are an old skin, don't you understand?" Hal asked, still smirking.

"What do they want it's after midnight?" Rachel called.

"To be truly free, to finally become a history maker, you must shed it," Hal said.

The door clicked open and their heads span. Rachel stepped out, dressed in a white nightgown and dressing gown. "Hello?"

Cutler threw a sponge at the bucket , making the bloody water slosh.

"What's going on?" Rachel stepped out and Hal removed his hat, just as he always did when a lady was present. Cutler looked down at his feet.

"Mrs Cutler," Hal said, moving towards her. "Rachel isn't it? My name is Henry York; I'm a colleague of your husbands." He reached and picked up her hand kissing it softly. Cutler looked away. "I can't apologise enough for the intrusion."

"Well," Rachel said. "It is a little late."

"Believe me only the matter of the upmost importance would compel me to disturb you at such an ungodly hour," Hal laughed, looking over at Cutler, who had hung his head. Hal bit his tongue before looking back at Rachel.

"Well if it's important…" She said.

"No!" Hal interrupted. "We are denying him the company of an angel. He shall be with you in a matter of moments."

Rachel smiled at the reassurance and the compliment, pulling at her hair. She looked over at Cutler before leaving, Hal watching her. She was very pretty. She closed the door behind her and Hal turned from the charming gentleman to the vicious killer he was.

"Fucking kill her." He spat.

"I can't," Cutler struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry not my wife."

Hal looked furious. He looked at the other two. "Let's go." He said sharply.

"Thank you," Cutler said. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the glass, putting the rim to his mouth and drinking it quickly to the point where he was gagging.

"I had such hopes for you," Hal said, his lips upturning into a snarl. He turned and left, Dennis and Louis.

Cutler continued to drink until his thirst was quenched. He felt guilt and anger and humiliation. He finished the glass and threw it away, curling his legs up to his chest. A shudder and sob ripped themselves from his lips.

Rachel reappeared, she looked down at her husband and knelt down to him. "Nick?" She asked softly. "Nick, sweetheart, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Cutler replied.

"Those men, they weren't threatening you were they?" Rachel asked.

"No, they weren't." Cutler replied. Rachel adjusted herself and took her husband's hand in hers.

"That Henry York," She said. "Well he's a right charmer, isn't he? But there's something there, lurking in his eyes. I don't know what it is."

"Rachel," Cutler said. "Please, promise me, you won't let him in. You won't invite him into our house."

"Well, he's technically already been in the house," Rachel said. "He was just here,"

"It's different rules with garages and homes." Cutler muttered.

"Honey, what are you on about?" Rachel asked.

"I'm begging you, don't let him or anyone else into the house until I know you are safe."

"Safe? From what?" Rachel asked.

"Promise me,"

Rachel nodded. "Okay, I promise. But you have to promise to tell me what is going on. I don't like this Nick, I don't like what's happened to you."

Cutler nodded.

Rachel sighed. "Come on," She said, pulling him up.

Cutler woke early. The throbbing in his throat had returned. He got changed in the dark, pulling on his suit and shoes. He leaned down and kissed Rachel's forehead before he picked up his briefcase.

"Nick?" Rachel turned, her eyes fluttering open.

"I need to go to work," Cutler said. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back tonight. I promise."

"I love you Nick,"

"I love you Rachel."

He took one last fleeting glance towards his wife before closing the bedroom door. He made his way through to the garage and climbed into the car. He needed to feed. His hands shook as he reached for the ignition. He put the car into gear and drove off.

He didn't know where he was going, but he just knew he had to drive. He had to think about what he had to do. He had to tell Hal that he was not a history maker. He wanted to make Hal proud, but there was nothing he could do. He still had Rachel and for the most part in his heart he wanted to make her happy.

The other part wanted to kill her. Wanted to kill everything.

Cutler pulled over and slammed his hands on the wheel, his entire body wretched itself. He shuddered and opened the door, gagging, wanting to throw up but completely unable to. He sat shuddering for a long moment before a sob escaped his lips.

"Are you alright?" A light shone in his eyes and he shot back, holding out his hands in fear and panic. A young police officer stood looking at him. "Sir?"

"I'm fine," Cutler replied. "I'm just having a rough week."

"Ah, get that a lot. Mostly the women." The officer said. "Well, if there is anything I can help you with… Just say the word…"

Cutler chuckled. "Not exactly something you can help me with,"

"Oh? Why not sir?"

"Because I'm hungry, and you can't feed me."

"If you want something to eat, you can come down to the station, we're sure to give you something to get you on your way," the officer said. "Though, why don't you sell off your car or something, if it's because of financial problems?"

"Not that kind of hungry," Cutler replied.

"Oh." The officer nodded. "Female acquaintance?"

"Not that kind of hungry…" Cutler repeated.

"I'm sorry sir, I really don't understand."

Cutler stood. "I'm really hungry," He said.


Cutler stepped forward towards the officer and felt his canines slide down his gums and nick his lips. He blinked and the police officer stepped back.

"FUCKING HELL!" He swore.

"I'm hungry," Cutler repeated.

"DON'T HURT ME!" Bellowed the officer, reaching for his whistle. Cutler grabbed his neck, pulling him forward. His teeth vanished and he looked down at the quaking man, terrified and alone. Cutler saw the flash of a silver band around the policeman's finger on his left hand. He promptly let him go.

"Forget me," He hissed, getting into the car and pulling away from the scene.

Cutler opened the door to the bar. It had been cleared of the damage that he and Hal had caused the other day. Hal stood centre with his back turned to him, Dennis and Louis watching him intently. Cutler pulled off his hat opening his mouth.

Hal span around. "Cutler!"

"What do you want?" He asked. "Why did you call me here?"

So suspicious! We're just pleased to see you." Hal moved towards him and fixed his collar affectionately. Cutler watched him. "Actually, no, it's more than that, we wanted to reassure you." He gently led Cutler down to the bar where two glasses and a decanter full of blood sat. Cutler's throat stirred with hunger, but he chose to ignore it.

"What about?" He asked putting his hat and jacket down to one side.

"The other night," Hal said. "Your wife."

Cutler became alarmed at this, he blinked, looking over at Hal.

"Perhaps," Hal continued. "killing isn't your strong suit, no matter." He paused. "We all have different roles to play."

Cutler's attention was still stuck on the blood. He looked at it longingly, transfixed. Hal saw this and picked up the decanter removing the top and pouring some of the blood into each glass.

"You provide us with legal advice," He said. "Louis here is the muscle… And Dennis, well… Actually Dennis, what do you do apart from eat biscuits?" Hal turned around to look at the bearded man who merely smiled in return. Cutler wasn't focusing on Hal's words. The thought of the blood was too strong in his mind. He licked his lips as Hal returned to look at him. "Anyway," Hal murmured softly. "Let's put all of that behind us." He raised one of the glasses to Cutler's face letting him breathe the silky smooth scent.

"Take it," Hal offered.

Cutler looked at his maker before grabbing the glass and downing it in one go. The pain in the back of his neck was gone immediately. He dropped the decanter and Hal began to laugh menacingly.

"What?" Cutler asked. Louis and Dennis began to laugh too. Cutler's eyes pulled towards them. "What's so funny?"

Hal held out his hand to silence them both. They stopped suddenly and Hal continued to grin.

"I have something to show you Nick," He said.

Cutler's face dropped. "What?"

"Oh you'll see," Hal said, taking the glass from him. "Would you like another glass?"

Cutler nodded.

"Is it good?" Hal asked.

"You're not going to take any?"

"No I've already had some," Hal replied, picking up his own glass and sniffing it slightly. "Mm… Not as good as it was when she was fresh."

"What?" Cutler asked. "She?"

"Of course, only the best. You know that." Hal said. "Why don't I show you?"

Cutler shook his head. "No, I…"

"I know how you are with victims, but I think it's only right," Hal said, giving him another glass. "Perhaps get rid of that humanity that still lurks within you. The only way to become a history maker is to completely destroy it."

"But why?"

"Why?" Hal asked. "Because no one remembers the weak. No remembers the ones who give up everything so that they can have love and acceptance. No remembers them. No, they remember the ones who stop at nothing, who have no distractions or ties. People who rise out from nothing to become something. That is why I made you. That is why gave you this."

Cutler merely stared at Hal.

"Okay, I can see this is going to take a lot more than just me talking." Hal sighed. "Follow me."

Hal stepped out of the bar into a side corridor, Cutler, Dennis and Louis following silently chuckling. If his heart was still beating he was sure that the thudding would fill his ears. He longed for it silently as Hal pulled a key from his pockets and opening one of the side doors. He led Cutler into the room and switched on the light.

There she was. Still in her white nightdress drenched in blood, chained to the metal mesh with tubes running from her neck into a jar. She was still and lifeless and she smelled of death.

"We weren't sure if you'd work it out when you tasted the blood," Hal said. "I don't know if it works like that between husbands and wives… Well," He pulled out a clean crisp note and handed it over to Dennis who grabbed it eagerly. "Apparently not."

Cutler dropped to his knees feeling sick. "No, no, no!" Dennis and Louis hauled him up.

"Sh…" Hal whispered, leaning down to Cutler. "Don't you understand what I've done? I've set you free. But I don't want you to thank me." He smiled again. "How did her blood taste? As good as your honeymoon? I bet it was. If she was anything like the way she was with me…"

Cutler stared at him.

Hal's smile grew wider and something in Cutler just snapped.

"Better she remain in your memory as a beautiful young woman with a kind heart, rather than a miserable old woman cursing you for your youth and beauty," Hal said. "You are destined to be a history maker and she was the one holding you back." He looked over at Cutler. "Mm… Would you like some more of her blood?"

Cutler blinked. He nodded before Hal leaned over and poured from the jar into a glass. "Here." He said, passing it over. "Enjoy, and finally you are one of us."

Cutler took the glass and drank deeply, Hal smiling. "Good boy," He said. "Good boy indeed."

"More," Cutler whispered, holding out the glass to Hal.

"Of course," Hal replied. "I am so proud of you. Have all you want."

So Cutler did.

The End(?)

I really don't think this is going to progress any further. I've written as much as I can with it. Hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review, let me know what you thought! xx