#NASC: Bellamy Frane
I’m testing the limits of my creativity (and your patience) by making stuff up about strangers I see every day. In no way do I consider this anti-social or legally actionable…
I have to admit to a little cheating here: I struggled for inspiration so I had to apply a character I already had in my head to an attractive young man I saw on the tram yesterday. The beardy dude was on my tram this morning too, so as far as I’m concerned it all counts! And I’m the guy in the tan jacket. Bellamy is the main character of an unwritten novel that’s been bouncing around in my head for ages, I’m hoping to write his story during NaNoWriMo in November this year…
Bellamy sat down as the tram started forward, his slight frame and elegant movement seeming out of place on the noisy public transport. The guy in the tan jacket was trying to stare at him while also trying to not catch his eye, Bellamy noticed. He was handsome in a chunky kind of way, Bellamy thought, but he had other fish to fry tonight.
He closed his eyes and let his other senses drink their fill. The smell of the humans was the unremarkable, slightly musty odour he was used to and even found strangely comforting. The rich, meaty scent scent of the vampire halfway down the tram, however, was a different story. The tram went on for a couple of stops and Bellamy sat back in his seat with his eyes closed, concentrating on what was to come. Finally, he could sense the vampire moving away and and out of the doors at the opposite end of the tram. He snapped up and leaped between the closing doors at his end, moving a little faster than he really should have been able to. He could tell the vampire was hungry.
He followed his nose around the side of a bar and out onto a quieter side road, laying eyes on his target. He was awkward-looking, burly, dreadlocked, head to toe in black and with the most ridiculous Amish-esque moustacheless beard. He was following a student-looking girl, at a reasonable distance. Or at least what the girl would think was a reasonable distance but which was hardly more than a heartbeat away for creatures like them. Bellamy closed on his bearded prey as the prey closed on his own. The girl made toward a corner that would lead her on to a busier street and Beard tensed to spring but Bellamy was quicker and leaner and pounced before Beard could even stretch out his arm. Bellamy hit his target like a train and pulled him back, away from the intended victim. Confused, Beard spun round ready to fight but Bellamy tripped him as he spun and smashed him face down into the pavement. He managed to writhe around and face upward but all that did was allow Bellamy direct access to his jugular. He dove at it, fangs extended, tore a ragged hole in his victim’s neck and was drinking before Beard knew what was happening.
“You! NO! Howggh…” Beard’s question became a gurgle as Bellamy tore a messy hole in his throat. Quickly, Beard’s struggles slowed, then ceased.
Bellamy stood and thoughtlessly tossed the bloodless, disintegrating corpse over a fence into an abandoned piece of land. In an hour it would be rubble. He looked down at himself and tore off the bloodied pullover and hid it in an abandoned skip nearby. Sheffield was a student town and it was Friday night; a topless boy walking around the city centre wouldn’t be looked askance at. He had made a mess of himself, but it had been worth it.