Julietʼs Fangs

"Juliet, come here!" the man shouted with fury.

"You're mistaken. My name was not Juliet!"

Well, that could be misinterpreted. I was not a prostitute and an erotic dancer.

I was a waitress in a bar. I could not deny that some agreed to a certain kind of service, however, it was not usual in this place. In spite of everything, it was a respectable site.

The owner was a charlatan macho, but he did not force us to sell ourselves, much less. I could even say that he was trying to take care of us, although not the way one expected. He was the kind of person who, if he saw you in danger, would call you with that horrible tone of terrifying voice.

Attending the drunks was always unpleasant, but I had to bite my tongue from time to time so as not to let all the bad temper in me live.

I had to say that I was nineteen years old to be able to work here, when the reality is that I was only seventeen years old. Very young for the amount of things I had seen.

I could not complain, I knew I was lucky to stay alive. It was not a good life, but I tried to focus on working and get enough money for the day.

I gave a bad look to the drunk customer. He was angry because I rejected his tempting offer. His hair had been abandoned for a while, his yellow and crooked teeth betrayed the bad life he carried, closing with a belly that he used to call "La Cervecera".

"Juliet!" He took me from my hair when I started walking back to the bar, ignoring him.

The movement almost made me drop the glasses I was holding in the tray, but I managed to save it at the last moment.

I didn't even have time to complain. One of the guards appeared at that moment, tingling a punch to the abusive drunk.

"Thank you, Yale." I looked at him with gratitude.

"It's nothing, Juliet."

Yale was one of the few people with whom I could communicate. He was a security guard of the bar. He was so tall. However, it was enough to talk a bit with him to know that he was a sweet boy who tried to help me with the money for the house.

And I felt identified with him. For that reason and only for that, I could consider him a friend. Not a very close one, but enough to have shared one beer after a day of work.

I kept working until three in the morning. Being a waitress in a place like this was not simple. The men smelled disgusting, there was always someone wanting to propose with you due to the uniform shorts that we were forced to use. The pay was good and the schedule was flexible, the only reasons why I was still in this place.

"Goodbye, Juliet!"

I also said goodbye to one of my companions. I didn't even remember her name.

An alcoholic father, a mother in the hospital, three minor siblings to feed.

Supporting bad work was nothing compared to my situation at home.

The night was so dark, without even the moonlight to illuminate the road. I lived a few streets, but the same could be scary walking without being aware of the predators of the night.

I accommodated the hood on my head, trying to go unnoticed. The predators could smell fear. It was best to walk quickly and without hesitating.

A couple went by my side, laughing at their drunkenness. For a moment I looked at them. What would be their problems? Decide where to drink next weekend? Or maybe their lives are as devastating as mine? It was difficult to guess.

People always stay quiet. It was easier to use a mask than to say what hurt us. We all hid something, something so painful that we could never say it out loud without breaking us.

And it was simpler to smile.

I heard steps behind me. I can not deny that doubt invaded me. Was it a prostitute, thief or rapist? It was impossible to know.

I hurried down the steps.

I had a pepper spray in my hand that one of the girls at the bar gave me as soon as I started working.

"It's for your safety." She put it firmly in my hand. "You must put it here every time you leave here. Do not forget."

And I never forgot it.

I believed in the seriousness of her words.

For that reason, every time I changed in the bar dressing room, I came out with this device in my hand. I clung it firmly, without hesitation.

"Do not run, beautiful," I heard him whisper, making me nervous. "Although blood tastes better after a little exercise."

Do not turn, I repeated again and again mentally.

His voice was terrifying. Possibly it was some madman. Although it could also be someone spent on glasses of beer.

I could see my house, right on the corner. It was close, I did not have to do anything. I should only count on my steps, regulate my breath and in the worst case, prepare for an attack.

Just then someone appeared in front of me.

How did he manage to get up so fast?

That was nothing normal.

"Oh darling. Do you really think I'll let you get home? I have three nights watching you, you can not escape."

I did not think twice. I rose the pepper gas firmly, spraying it in his eyes. The man shouted at the sudden attack, but I could not enjoy his suffering. I started running in the bar.

I could not get home. If what he said was true, getting to my home would only involve putting my siblings' life at risk. Then I would just wait at the bar until dawn. I could even tell Yale to give a beating to the harasser.

I did not get too far.

It was a matter of seconds. In a moment I ran towards my salvation and the other was kissing the pavement.

The blow caused me to bite my lips, to the point of making me bleed.

And I hated blood.

My attacker climbed on my back, immobilising me against the ground. His legs were on each side of my waist, while his arms clung to mine tightly, causing a pain that he did not plan to let me see.

"This is how I like it."

"Take off, damn scum," I said.

He seemed surprised at my outburst. I was not precisely a lady, much less a damsel endangered. I did not care about the pain, I knew I did not have time to lament.

I was in danger.

"That little mouth…"

"Damn, take off." I wanted to turn around but my attempts were futile.

"You have a good body, I admit it." I felt his look on me. "A good prey."

I escaped a gasp when he got up and dropped me to the ground again. The air escaped from my lungs, as well as some tears in my eyes. It took a few seconds to process what had happened.

It hurt, it hurt a lot.

"You look prettier. Now, be a good girl and let me drink your blood."

"Drink my blood? What do you think you are? A vampire?" I felt the blood running down my nose.

Ah, damn condition. I could not alter my nose bleeding. I heard the laughter of that guy, just before feeling his lips on my neck.

Was that fangs?

My heart accelerated. No. It should be my imagination. Vampires did not exist, of course not.

I felt my end approaching.

I closed my eyes tightly, just before feeling a slight puncture over my neck. It did not last as long as I believed, I would say that it was even accidental. The next thing I knew is that I did not feel the hard pressure of that guy on my back.

What the fuck had it happened now?

When I looked around, there was a massacting who was attacking my attacker. Has someone saved me? I couldn't believe it. I saw it and I did not believe it.

In this city, the most unpleasant things happened in front of the eyes from all over the world, but nobody became involved. The violation of a fifteen-year-old girl? That was not our business. The murder of a parent? Surely I searched for it.

Nobody tried to help the other. Nobody bothered to pretend to be good, unless it was for interest.

My saviour? Possibly he also had self-interest.

"Do not touch even a single hair of her again!"

I frowned.

What did he mean by that?

What I most missed was that my attacker did not try to defend himself once. He kept still and without complaining, without replicating, without trying to stop the blows of that stranger who defended me.

"Hey, you're going to kill him," I said when I saw that he kept hitting him.

It's not that he interested me. Damn he deserved the beating.

"Believe me, he will not die," he said mockingly, leaving the inert body on the sidewalk.

Well, it seemed like yes.

"Uhm, thank you," I said dubiously.

I was sitting on the sidewalk so he helped me get up. I could not see his eyes, nor his expression. I could not see it at all. It was a blurred shade, as much as I could notice that he was tall and thin, but with good muscles.

"Do not thank me," he murmured, approaching a little.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously.

"Forgive me."

And then I felt his bite on my neck.