#streethound

Over time, Gem had come to understand Ricardo’s habits better.  He was stuck in a hellish situation where being treated with basic decency was something you needed to work for. Though he had worked hard years after becoming plagued with the parasite, it never appeared to Gem as though anyone treated him better than a worm.  

Seeing Ricardo work himself to the bone for awhile now was not something the woman enjoyed.  Days like this were why she tried to have the man pace himself, as every cough created a small splatter of blood on his desk.  

“Choked up?  Ric, you’ve been hacking all day and you look ready to pass out!”  Seeing him raise up yet another energy drink made her grab for his arm.  She’d seen him chugging the drinks all day, if there wasn’t coffee in his hand, there was another energy drink.  At this point it was making her worry deeply.

“How many of those have you had?  I know you got your uh, little friend, but you’ve been hacking all day and I… I see the blood Ric!  Something ain’t right here.  When was the last time you slept?”  Her face was laced with concern as she held his arm tight, not letting him ignore her.

In his line of work seniority meant nothing. His old “pal” Wagner was just a fledgling compared to him and that man had been getting the star treatment until he’d come down with a bug himself. Ricardo hadn’t seen the bastard leave the laboratories since. As a result even with the businessman shouldering the Texan’s work on top of his own it meant little to the corporation. They’d acquired a fresh-faced dealer straight out of college and had been slowly getting his feet wet in the bio-weapons dealing. Ricardo gave the man six months, if that.

Even with blurry vision and shaking extremities, Ricardo was still doing what he could to go over the details of a few upcoming deals. He’d be damned if there was interference or meddling and, yes, he’d eventually be sending the newbie in his stead. This excess work made him feel alive, made him feel normal, but by god was it killing him. He gave another loud cough and this time he could practically hear the blood hitting the papers on his desk. The parasite was pissed and wanted its host to take a good twenty-four hour nap. Unfortunately for it, its host was as stubborn as they come. 

“I’ve just hit the wall, Gem,” Ricardo said, “All I’ve gotta do is climb ovah it. You can’t get shit finished when you’re countin’ sheep an’ this shithole of a corporation can’t expect the newbie ta know the foist thing about handlin’ this sort of job. You need an--” He wheezed again. “--an expert!”

@streethound

It was a fragrant night; the scent of grilling meat hung heavy in the air and intermingled with spices. There was a din of festivity that contrasted the foreboding undercurrent. It was a tourist town, certainly nothing close to Cancun but people in the know often migrated to this coastal Central American village around the time that the weather turned cool in the States. A throng of people, smelling heavily of alcohol staggered past a man leaning against an older style hatchback vehicle. He glowered briefly at them before he started lighting his cigarette. 

<”Another tourist, Mateo,”> chuckled a heavyset local to his younger, leaner friend. <”Maybe we could give him...directions.”>

Unbeknownst to them the garishly dressed man who had finished lighting his cigarette knew full well where he was and where he planned to go. The older man staggered his way towards the “tourist”, a dark smile on his face. He’d already managed to make a dime off a few unsuspecting tourists so maybe this schmuck would be no different. 

“Got a spare cigarette, amigo?” asked the local in a heavy accent. Mateo didn’t follow his friend but kept watch. 

“I don’t,” said the “tourist” shortly, his Brooklyn accent coming out loud and clear. “Now how about you an’..” He gestured with his cigarette towards Mateo...”Tweedle Dee get movin’?” 

The heavyset local innocently raised both his hands as if offended. “So sorry, cabron. Here I was just trying to learn a new face. Since you are new, I figured you might want some help...maybe some directions. Speakin’ of directions..I’ve got a map I’m sell-”

During this time, the “tourist” had soundlessly got back into his car and drove off, nearly running over the local’s feet. A loud string of Spanish obscenities were heard as the “tourist” burst out laughing as he watched the angry man dance around in his rear view mirror. “Who’s the cabron now?! Fuckin’ tourist traps.” He settled into the seat as he drove off, disappointed that he’d have to give that food vendor a try a different night. 

@streethound

“Oh shit, you’re not kiddin’!” Ricardo said, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. This wasn’t good, not good at all. Gem, his bodyguard with benefits as he’d often tease, had taken the brunt of the attack. Ricardo had went through the effort of trying to cover their tails and make sure that no one knew where he was going to be trading off B.O.W.s with a prospective client, but messages had been intercepted and they’d run into a little interference.

The opposition had been quite literally torn to shreds but they’d done their fair share of damage. The Brooklynite, not giving a shit if Gem’s blood got on him, was already doing what he could to staunch the bleeding. He looked as if he was at the edge of a breakdown, though, seeing her like this. Gem was supposed to be the tough one! “Keep lookin’ at me, dawl. Just stay with me.” 

@streethound

It had come out of nowhere. Ricardo had started the night sleeping soundly, with not a thing on his mind, but overnight a winter’s thunderstorm had rolled in and the sound of the rain pelting heavily against the window had started the flashback. His dreams had shifted to that fateful day on that boat, his final desperate escape. He’d exhausted every attempt at eliminating the agents, getting them off his tail, but he couldn’t shake him. 

The man started gasping in his sleep, the nightmare seeming more real by the moment. He wasn’t safe and realized far too late that he was Excella’s contingency plan. He sat up in bed, a cold sweat soaking the sheets as he stared sightlessly ahead. He wasn’t in his room; he was back in Kijuju. There was a look of terror etched across his face as he had trouble rousing from the flashback. Ricardo couldn’t escape it, but somewhere off in the distance, someone was calling his name. 

The woman was too busy thinking the man was hurt to expect he’d lunge for her like a hungry dog.  There was a moment of complete defenselessness as he pushed her to the ground.  She barely had time to grab at his throat and push his chest to try to make room between them “RICK.” she yelled out, trying to wake him from the hunger.  Gem hoped this was a misunderstanding, that he thought she was an intruder, but she knew deep down that wasn’t the case.

She growled back “STOP, you need to calm down, it’s me! It’s Gem!”  Holding the starving man back was becoming quite hard, his inhuman strength and need to feed made him a match for her. She also didn’t want to hurt him, so using brute strength wasn’t something she wanted to use.  

With a hard shove, she tried to switch positions, pushing him hard on his back as she did her best to pin him “You need to stay in control!” If she wasn’t in such a horrible situation, she would have thought about how he might take this as a reason to take a walk in the sunlight.

If the woman had been a second late in retaliating the strigoi would have had his sharp teeth in her throat. The Brooklynite let out with a loud hiss as the woman fought back to snap him out of this stupor. It was like hearing his name called at him through a tunnel when she did call out to him. Long fingers reached out, eager to pry the hand that Gem held firmly on his throat. He had a fresh source of blood right here! All he needed was just one bite! 

When at first she had called out to him, Ricardo had failed to listen, as the overwhelming desire to quell this gnawing thirst was stronger than anything else. Upon hearing Gem say her name, the strigoi seemed to hesitate, and in turn, allowed the smaller woman a chance to get the upper hand. 

As his back hit the floor, it seemed to knock it momentarily out of him a a surge of pain rippled through his nerves. A look of bewilderment fell across his pale features as he stopped baring his teeth at her. Ricardo, for a moment, looked as if he wasn’t aware of where he was or what was going on until he locked eyes with Gem. There seemed to be a wave of relief wash over him.

@streethound

It was a silence you could cut with a knife. The warehouse was seemingly empty after the deal and Edward “Eddie” Wagner was now the proud owner of a virus that had only just hit the black market. He was going to be damned if the Parasite got to it before he did. He stood in the darkness, just a silhouette of a man that had spent many years playing football and honing his body to be pure muscle, and listened. 

Eddie put his hand on his holstered gun, his dark blue eyes watching every shadow, every movement, before he started towards the door. He tilted his head and looked back at where he came, his suspicion growing by the moment; he wasn’t alone. 

“Come on out and show yerself,” the Texan said in his Southern drawl. “Make it easier on the both of us and I might only take out yer kneecaps.” 

He slowly paced back into the warehouse, the only thing to greet him being a beady eyed little mouse before it went scurrying under a crate. Eddie grimaced at the filthy animal and had to stop himself from stomping on it. He pulled his gun out and clicked the safety off, ready to shoot the sneaking son of a bitch in the back of the head the moment he saw them. A very important deal had just been finished here and whoever had been spying on them needed to be snubbed out the second they were found. This was something that didn’t need to see the light of day.

@streethound

He had assured he he’d be fine. He had this under control. After all, how long had it been since he’d been infected? Ricardo was getting the hang of it, understanding sunlight was fatal and to avoid it all costs. The biggest issue, however, was avoiding the ever present temptation of human blood. The strigoi craved it like an addict craved heroin. Thing was he needed blood. He could survive without the human kind but it was like no other. The taste was beyond compare.

The fledgling vampire had finished off the pig’s blood without abandon, but that left him without anything besides his neighbors...and rats. Rats were a standby for him as they had been the first taste he’d gotten of blood once he’d turned. Unfortunately the apartment he lived in did a damn fine job with their extermination business, leaving Ricardo to try to convince himself he’d be fine. 

He wasn’t fine.

@streethound

He’d been going nonstop since the day before. Contrary to popular belief, Ricardo actually did work and despite the fact Nautilus viewed him as little more than an asset, he always found himself wanting to prove he was something more. He wasn’t some B.O.W. that’d been acquired when TriCell had went under but was a legitimately important member of the corporation. It gave Ricardo a sense of humanity, a sense of normalcy, but it was also a quick way to get the parasite in him agitated when its host didn’t take the time to rest and recuperate after a long day.

The Brooklynite had been coughing for a while now and only now did he notice the flecks of blood that were spattered across his desk. Ricardo was exhausted mentally and physically but didn’t want to admit it. Even with the research he’d done into this new project, it wouldn’t change how the company felt about him. He was just a B.O.W. to them even if he was very much one with its own free will.