Vampire My World

By: Cyndi Goodgame

Chapter One The Job of a Lifetime




KARA'S GIFT wasn’t always a gift. And she couldn’t turn it off when she wished. It wasn’t always a horrid circumstance. There were a lot of good people in the world but it only took one time to make it unbearable.

Two years ago, she’d taken a job on the side with a friend made while waiting tables. Dressed in khakis and the regular standard polo, he didn’t stand out as a cop and she’d taken the table as a favor to one of the other girl’s who said she had bad vibes with him. He’d sat in her closed section at the upscale rather affluent downtown restaurant and made the mistake of reaching for her arm when she walked away to get his still-on-the-job glass of water. It wasn’t in a vulgar way or anything of the sort, but rather to help steady her when the tray of drinks for the other table started to falter. Of course, the tray hit the floor and tea, water, and the chocolate milk for the youngster at table five covered her white linen dress-code shirt at the same time his touch sent images of him sleeping in a car, arresting a drug dealer in a smoke infested dilapidated old home in the area labeled the hood, and spending the rest of the nighttime hours logging it into the police records.

Detective Rivers was a fantastic detective and overseer of the downtown police department, but his life was made up of always looking for the worst in people. She knew this from all of the six months she’d helped put criminals behind bars…and save the innocent ones. She also knew this because she saw it firsthand in his memories.

The second someone touched her skin and made contact, a flood of scenes that happened somewhere in the last twenty-four hours previous to the current second coinciding with the touch, hit Kara’s brain. Image after image toured her senses and told her what that person had seen, and been through, for an entire day, give or take on the hours. She couldn’t time quick-sequenced visions, but it seemed to often pan out to about that amount of time.

Giving herself away to Detective Rivers wasn’t intentional, but it happened. She’d seen the seedy man hidden in the back room of the drug house pull a gun and die right there, as well as see the detective shoot the other a mere second before he himself had been shot cold. She mumbled a few accurate details enough the detective questioned her knowing them. Feeling like she might be called into questioning or labeled part of the crime or something like that, she confessed her gift to the man. Wide-eyed and drooling over the prospects, she could see in his eyes what might happen next. And it did.

Kara spent six month’s earning a hundred dollars a pop on reading an individual within minutes of a crime to give alert to who was guilty and not guilty. She helped put twenty criminals in jail and saved two innocent victims who took the blame for a crime they didn’t commit. She continued to help that is, until one was too gruesome to handle. A man allegedly said to be a bank robber, filtered out a terrible gruesome sequence of killing his wife and packing her sliced up body parts into a freezer in the basement of his home. Knowing bad in the world exists and seeing it first hand are two very different beasts to conquer in one’s mind. Kara couldn’t handle it. She told Detective Rivers he should consider her retired from the detective business. From then on, she vowed to never touch another human again.





Chapter Two To Go or Not to Go




His number was on the fridge for two days before she finally gave up in frustration after counting all of ninety-seven dollars and two cents of tips. Two cents? Who tipped that? And really? Only a C note’s worth, as Rick the other waiter she usually shared a section with, called it. Rick was different too. Somehow, the strange seem to gravitate to the Rocket. A restaurant full of mind readers and all acknowledge it openly to each other so as to watch each other's back. A silent forum with little interaction because all preferred to not acknowledge what the others might be thinking.

She stared at the dingy yellow post-it note. Rob Reeve. His named sounded intriguing. Or maybe she was making it to be that way based on the description the detective gave. Kara threw in the first towel a week ago and called Detective Rivers to do a few jobs for him. The money would help pay the rent in her small apartment on the fifth floor of her inside, well lit, well guarded, housing area. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Life might have been hard for Kara, but she would never complain.

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