Ashley kept the cold metal of his blade pressed against Ethan's neck as he off the bed. Ashley, being naked, didn't have a weapon or something that could be used as a one on him, but in a pinch, his limbs could be reshaped into blades. The way his skin popped and crackled as it quickly turned into metal gleaming steel was far from pleasant.

"What the hell was that?" Ashley asked once he was a good two feet away from the bed, rubbing the back of his neck, where Ethan's fangs had grazed.

"Could you lower your arm... knife, arm-knife?" Ethan asked, sidestepping the question as he wrapped a blanket around his waist and slipped off the bed.

Ashley gritted his teeth. "Answer. The. Question."

"I know you're trying to be threatening, but your naked, so I'm getting extremely mixed messages." Ashley took a step forward, knife still out. "Okay, okay. Look, it's a little difficult to explain."

"I've got plenty of time to hear it. Start with what you were doing with my head?"

Ethan started. "Everyone needs to eat, right? Vampires need to drink blood, and I need to eat... um..."

"Eat what?"

"Can you please put something on?"

"Seriously? I have a knife to your throat!"

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I'm very distracted."

"Fine, throw me my shirt." Ethan tossed Ashley his blouse, which he slid on quickly before lifting the knife back up. "Keep talking."

"Bad memories. Trauma," Ethan hurried out. "That's what I eat."

"That's... What the hell are you?"

"That's a little bit more complicat- Wait, wait, Tiefling-" Ethan spluttered out as Ashley raised the knife.

"Tiefling?" Ashley lowered his knife, brow raised.

"Half demon or devil, not quite sure of the difference or if there is one."

"So, you're a half-demon who eats bad memories?" Ashley asked incredulously, not totally convinced. At the mention of 'bad memories,' he remembered the nightmares he had had for the past week. The details are hazy and undefined, not as readily recalled.

He doesn't remember the colour of the mobster's eyes, the cold feel of the gun, or the pain of rough concrete on his knees.

"You took those memories from me, made them clouded." The knife fell to his side, popping, cracking, and reforming into flesh as he completely lost his concentration. "H-How...?"

Ashley took a step back, then another and another till he was out the bedroom and out the door, hurriedly putting on his clothes as he ran out.

...

Ashley fell into bed and burrowed under his blanket, hiding from the world like a frightened child. Having his memories eaten away and dulled was bitter-sweet. He wasn't exactly attached to those memories, so having them no longer at the forefront of his mind was more than welcome, but having someone else in his head without his permission... his skin crawled.

Fortunately, it was far past midnight, and while Ashley didn't have a typical nine-to-five job, he couldn't afford to stay up too late and wake up a zombie.

Ashley sat up, staring at the vanity mirror across from his bed. His makeup was a fucking mess. Ashley sighed ran his hands over his face, further smudging his ruined makeup.

He got out of bed, fished his makeup remover and cotton balls out of his purse, and wiped off his makeup. He reached up to remove his earring but only felt his bare earlobe.

"Fuck."