Chapter Sixteen
Kip
Pump It
When I woke up, still in Charlie’s bed with his nose buried in my chest and his arm slung over my waist, I couldn’t help but smile.
And that smile still sits on my face, even though I had to get up early to meet a client at seven a.m., I’m still beaming. Charlie was still asleep when I left, but I sent him a text to let him know I had to bounce out early.
Kip: mornin’ sweetheart. thx 4 last nite. i wanted to keep sleeping w/ u, but had to get to work early
It’s my first day back since being turned, and because I called out sick so much, I have a very busy day of personal training clients ahead of me.
Honestly, I don’t mind being super busy with work anyway.
I love my job. I mean, what’s not to love?
I get to work out, and help other people work out.
I love showing people their potential, and helping them work on their confidence and strength.
Whenever I’m a bit down, which is very rare (with the exception of the last week, because well, you know), I always pump some iron and it perks me right up.
Watching clients become stronger versions of themselves also never fails to put a smile on my face.
When I was fourteen, I was put into foster care.
Working out became my calm place, the only way I could find peace.
My parents were killed in a car accident.
A deer ran out in front of their car, and in order to avoid hitting it my Dad swerved.
Instead of hitting the deer, they hit a tree.
It’s been eleven years since then, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without being able to put all my energy into lifting.
It was a super dark time in my life. I definitely wasn’t the happy-go-lucky dude I am now.
But lifting gave me the confidence and strength to get through every day.
That’s why I decided to become a personal trainer, to help others gain confidence.
My first client of the day, Joey, is a trans man who is working to build up their body to reflect a more masculine looking physique. Every time he notices new muscles or gains, he lights up. I love that shit. That’s my job, helping people realize their dreams.
“Dude, look at those lats!” I grin, meeting Joey’s eyes in the mirror.
He smiles back, bright joy radiating from his face. “I know. I look fucking awesome, Kip!”
“Damn right you do, buddy. Keep up the good work. I’ll see you Monday, alright?” I give his shoulder a slap.
“Thanks, Kip! See you Monday.” Joey gathers his stuff, heading off towards the locker rooms.
“You’re looking pretty upbeat this morning.” Tyson walks up to me, having just got in to work for the day. “I wonder if it has something to do with you not coming home last night.”
Instantly, my guard goes up and my mood wants to dip. It never used to be like this with Tyson. But this has changed this last week. He’s not the same dude I knew before.
“I just love being here, Tyson. I like helping people.” I shrug, picking up my water bottle to take a deep glug.
“Hmmm.” Tyson eyes me. “It’s good to see you out of your bedroom and back in the real world.”
“Yep, well, I couldn’t stay locked up forever. I have a life to keep living.” I gather my stuff, moving to go meet my next client. “Anyway, I’ve got a client who should be here any minute. See ya.”
I can tell Tyson wants to say more, but I don’t give him a chance, instead leaving him standing there while I head out to the lobby area.
“Hey, Allie, you ready to get started?” I call out, spotting my next client walking into the building.
“Kip! You know I am.” She beams at me.
Allie is this badass chick who is absolutely built.
She can bench just as much as me. It’s awesome to see all different types of people coming here to build themselves up.
When I first started here, as a locker room attendant when I was eighteen, it wasn’t as common to see females here.
It was mainly your stereotypical dude-bros who would come in, but now I get people from all walks of life here and it’s amazing.
Everyone deserves to live in a body that they love and feel proud of.
“Alright, Deadlift Queen, let’s do some warming up, yeah?” I mean it when I call Allie ‘Deadlift Queen’. She’s a fucking beast.
We run through our typical pre-lift warmups, some light jogging, arm circles, leg swings, high knees, and dynamic stretching to loosen up before we get to the workout.
The workout is going well, and we actually end up pushing Allie’s limits a bit by adding extra weight to her deadlifts and leg presses. “You’re a rockstar, Allie, seriously. I bet you could lift me right up and toss me out the window if you wanted.”
She’s following behind me, taking a swig out of her water bottle, before she responds. “Only if you piss me off, Kip. Then you’d be in real—oh fuck!”
I spin around in time to watch in horror as Allie goes down.
Some idiot left a bag in the middle of the walkway, and Allie must’ve tripped over it.
She goes flailing, and I try to hustle over to catch her, but I’m too late.
She hits the floor, and on the way down her head smacks the metal leg of a bench press.
I smell it before I see it. Blood.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I stand frozen, my mouth open in horror, as Allie lets out a cry and blood trickles down her forehead. I want to move to help her, but the overwhelming urge to feed is too strong. I can hear her blood whooshing through her veins. Smell the intoxicating scent wafting through the air.
I will the urge away, but it’s no use. Please, not here, not now. Control yourself, Kip.
My fangs burst free from my gums, and my claws extend. Bloodlust burns through me. The need to feed is too strong, stronger than my will to fight it. I’m moving forward, towards Allie, but not to help her. No. The only thing on my mind is how sweet her blood smells. How badly I want to taste it.
Someone gets in my way. My teeth gnash and snap at the person blocking me from my feast. I’m snarling and growling, scratching at the body that stands in my way.
“Kip!” The person in front of me snaps. Tyson. “We’ve got to get you away from her, man.”
“No!” My voice comes out demonic.
“Can we get some medical help for this person!” Tyson yells out while crowding his body against mine, pushing me back.
A flurry of action happens behind him. Two of my coworkers rush to Allie’s side, helping her, while another calls an ambulance.
I’m distantly aware of all this activity, but still, my body slams itself against Tyson’s, trying to get to the blood.
In the back of my mind, the human part of me is screaming for me to stop.
It’s telling me that I’ll regret it if I attack Allie.
But the vampire part of me doesn’t give a shit.
Tyson is stronger than me, so while everyone else is distracted with helping Allie, he’s able to push me back. He pushes and pushes, until I stumble through the doorway of the managers office. He swings the door shut behind us, locking it with both of us inside.
I lash out, fighting Tyson with everything I have. I slice him open with my claws, leaving long gashes across his face where his black blood drips down.
“Stop it, Kip.” He makes to grab my wrists. “Stop!” He roars.
“I…can’t…” I pant. I want to, believe me I want to, but my instincts won’t let me. “Don’t want to hurt anyone…” My voice is still deep and demonic, but it’s tinged with anguish. “Why is this happening, Tyson?! I was fine the first time I fed from Charlie.”
The blood isn’t even in my sight anymore, but I can fucking smell it. It seeps through the walls, calling to me.
“If you don’t fucking stop, I’m going to have to put you down.” Tyson growls, heaving my body back against a wall and caging me in.
“Do…it…” I don’t know what he means by ‘putting me down’, but I know that it’s the only option. I can’t fight this, and I’m not going to be able to stop. “Please…”
Tyson places a palm on either side of my head. “I’m sorry. This is going to hurt.”
Snap.
Black.
“Ahhh, fuck…” I grumble, trying to stretch out the ache in my back and neck.
It’s then that a few things stand out to me.
First, it’s fucking cold here. Second, it’s pitch black. And third, I’m pretty sure I’m laid out on cement.
What the fuck?
My eyes adjust, and even with my enhanced vampire night vision, it’s really hard to see anything. What is happening? Where am I?
Think, Kip. What do I remember from before I just woke up?
Shit. Pump Palace. Allie…woah, is Allie okay?
She hit her head and there was blood…so much blood…
everywhere. The craving for it was intense.
I couldn’t fight it. All I wanted was to pounce on her and lap up the crimson liquid from the gash in her head like a fucking monster.
Tyson was there, trying to stop me. And he did, eventually.
But the only thing he could do to get me to stop was to…
fuck…he broke my fucking neck! Just snapped it with his hands like a fucking twig. Damn, that hurt.
Second fucking time I’ve broken my neck in like a week. The first time, when I fell from the tree saving Nacho didn’t hurt so much, maybe I was in shock? But this second time, man.
“Tyson!” I yell, my voice echoing off the concrete walls.
I crawl forward on my hands and knees, brushing my hands back and forth as I move until I my hand collides with metal.
I tap my fingers against the cold steel, and then wrap my fist around it.
Steel bars. Standing, I follow along the bars with my hand bumping over each one.
There are three walls made of steel bars, and then the back wall of the cell is made of concrete blocks.
Because that’s what this is, it’s a cell. A prison. What the hell…
“Tyson!” My voice booms, reverberating back to me. I’ll keep screaming until someone comes and tells me what the fuck is going on. “What the fuck, dude! What is going on?”
I don’t get mad. Never. I’m like the chillest dude you’ll ever meet, but this, this is pissing me off. Tyson is pissing me off. Because he was the one who snapped my neck, he was the last person I saw before I woke up here. He has to be the reason I’m locked up in this fucking weird ass cage.
“You could’ve at least given me a fucking blanket or some shit!” I scream.
A loud screech rings through the air, followed by the clanging of a door hitting a wall. Bright light floods the space.
“Will you stop yelling?” Tyson has the balls to look annoyed with me.
“Tys, what the fuck is going on?”
“You were out of control, bro. I had to take drastic measures.” He shrugs. Fucking shrugs.
“So you locked me in a fucking cage after breaking my neck?”
Tyson pulls up a chair that was off to the side of the room, sitting backwards on it like we’re having some friendly chat.
Sighing, like I’m the one being unreasonable, he says “You out one of us, you out us all man. You went feral at work, and couldn’t control yourself.
There are fucking rules, Kip. Which you would know, if you’d let me help you. ”
Hmphh. “I looveee how you turn everything into my fault, Tys. Real fucking classy.”
“Isn’t it, though? Your fault, I mean. You’re the one who went into absolute bloodlust over Allie gashing her head open. Which, by the way, she’ll be fine. In case you cared. Minor concussion, and a few stitches, but she’ll heal up just fine.”
I scoff. “Really? Of course I fucking care! It’s like you don’t even know me, Tyson.
You know that I hate hurting people. I mean, do you realize what it will be like to live with the guilt over what I wanted to do to Allie?
Instead of wanting to help her I…I…” My voice cracks. “I could’ve killed her, man.”
“I know, buddy. That’s why you’re here. This is for your own good. We just want to help you.” Tyson softly replies.
“How?” Shit, I hate crying, but I can’t help the tears that leak down my face.
“In cases where baby vamps can’t control themselves around blood, and they don’t have a mentor who can control them, the council requires them to be locked up until they can be desensitized and control themselves.”
“What are you talking about? Council? Where the fuck am I, Tys?”
“Beneath the Blood Rose. Think of it as a prison for supernatural beings. They’re kept here until they’re reformed, or their judgement is passed.”
“And who decides that?” God, why is this my life? I just wanted to lift weights and help people. I didn’t ask for this.
“The Supernatural Council. Since it was my blood that turned you, it’s up to me to help you get yourself under control. I get a month to do it. If after a month you can’t control the bloodlust…” Tyson’s words drift off.
I’m pretty sure I know what he’s implying. But I need to hear it flat out. “If I can’t control it after a month…what?”
“You’re exterminated.”