Work Text:
A stack of papers and carbon copy receipts were tucked safely away in the handsome briefcase Vox acquired some years ago when he first noticed other human males going around the city with them. He didn’t truly need it. Really, he only used it for occasions where he had to blend in, as he was doing this day—the day he absolutely had to get his taxes done.
Unfortunately, the one person willing to work with his budget had gotten a promotion and moved his entire office to the newly opened National Westminster Tower, and for the life of him, he couldn’t quite remember where his accountant had said the office was located. He never really had a reason to even be inside a building of this size before now, so of course he had to navigate one while also running late.
A security guard finally took pity on him and helped him find the building directory. He clutched his briefcase to his side once he’d figured it out and took off at a brisk pace towards the one set of lifts that would bring him to the right floor. He tapped his foot anxiously, waiting for it to arrive, and was relieved to see it was empty. Now he only had to weather the ride up 30-odd floors, get his taxes squared away, and that’d be that. His stomach had begun to growl; he’d skipped breakfast after his alarm clock failed to go off–or had he forgotten to set it in the first place? Eh, a question for another time. But he was starting to wonder if the hunger he felt was the other one, his true one. When was the last time he’d taken a soul? Surely it couldn’t be time already.
Just as the doors began to close, a hand shot between the metal doors, forcing them to slide back open.
“Hey pal, didn’t you hear me? I was yelling at you to hold the doors!” A red-faced man growled at him. The man’s head had more beard than hair, and his sudden anger and beady-eyed glare caught Vox off-guard.
His eyes widened, unconsciously taking a step back. “Ah, I’m so sorry, I was…” he quickly trailed off, thinking of an excuse. “...trying to remember if I–”
The man rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t care. Get your head out of your arse, you fuckin’ tit.” If the man had uttered more insults under his breath as he pressed a different floor’s button, then he didn’t know. Vox had stopped listening. The lift lurched suddenly as it began to move and make all sorts of noise. His stomach knotted around itself and his cheeks flushed with anger, his hand tightening around the handle of his briefcase and making the leather creak.
“So rude, that one… He is perfect,” spoke a deep voice in the back of his mind. He knew it all too well and shook his head to dismiss it. Yet his eyes flicked around the small compartment, and he saw only the instrument panel for the lift. There was nothing and no one around to witness anything.
“I don’t need him,” he thought back, his eyes gluing themselves to the screen depicting which floor they had reached, the number slowly ticking up. His other hand absently fiddled with the lapel of the suit he’d borrowed some years ago when bellbottoms hadn’t gotten too ridiculous for men’s business wear.
“Food. You need food.”
“Shut up.” He ignored the voice and took a deep breath, focusing on calming himself down. The bastard in the lift with him was getting off before him and he’d be gone very soon and out of his life and—
The lights flickered as metal squealed awkwardly and the lift stuttered to a sudden halt. Both he and the other man grabbed at the railing inside the compartment to keep themselves from falling over. His briefcase clattered to the floor and out of his reach, but he didn’t dare move to retrieve it out of fear. This had never happened to him before.
“You…this is your fault somehow,” the human growled, throwing a glare at him over his shoulder before turning to bash his fist into the instrument panel. “Come fucking on!” Wildly, the human’s foot savagely kicked his briefcase across the floor before turning and kicking the doors a couple times. “Of all godforsaken days!”
He sputtered, trying to find the words to retort–to do anything in response–but between the swirl of intense emotions making his head swim and mixing with his aversion to confrontation, he was drowning. He hadn’t done anything. How could he?! This wasn’t his fault!
“No one would miss a miserable wretch like him.”
He shook his head, his breath quickening. “I don’t know that.”
“He’s trapped in here with you.”
“So what?!”
“It would be so easy.”
He gulped and made one hand release its white-knuckled grip on the railing to brush his hair out of his eyes. The compartment was small, but perhaps there was enough room to summon his sword and–!
“NO!” he yelled, his heart about to burst out of his throat. To his horror, he realized very quickly that the balding human had heard him and was giving him a very bewildered look. He couldn’t hear what the man said over the loud thumping in his ears, but perhaps that was for the best.
“Just focus on something else,” he told himself. Briefcase. Where’d that briefcase go? He made himself look around and saw it resting in the corner opposite of where he’d wedged himself. All he had to do was take a step or two over and pick it up. That was all he had to do.
“You wouldn’t be this weak if you fed on this pathetic human.”
His teeth clenched together, and he sucked in a deep breath–and then a couple more for good measure. Slowly, his other hand released its death grip on the railing, and once he was certain the lift wasn’t going to suddenly drop, his feet shuffled to the other side of the compartment. Once he was within arm’s reach, he stooped down, scooped the briefcase up, and held it tight to his chest.
“Good. Now use that to bash his head in like you did to its original owner.”
Vox shook his head defiantly. “Shut up, I’m fine!” Still, his hand moved to the exact corner that had dealt each of the blows. He learned how to dye leather because the blood had stained it so badly and he so desperately wanted to keep it. Trophy-taking in this age was far more difficult to do, but he’d done his research and knew this brand was popular and wouldn’t stand out much in a crowd.
“Do it.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t need him. I don’t need him.” His hold tightened around the briefcase. Sweat beaded along his temple, his stomach growling loudly–but that made him cling to his briefcase all the more. His fingers curled in and dug his nails into his palms.
“Do it. NOW.”
“I don’t need him! I’m fine! I’m fine! I’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’m–!”
The lift shook violently, surprising both its occupants, and his stomach did a turn as it began to move again. Neither of them moved or spoke until a soft chime rang out, cutting through the palpable silence.
“Fucking nutter…” was all he heard when the doors finally opened. The man practically ran out, disappearing around the corner. His rapid footsteps quickly faded away down the hallway beyond.
“Coward…”
“Yes. Yes, I am,” he whispered under his breath. He stood stock-still, panting, his body still wound up from the entire encounter.
Thankfully, the lift doors closed uninterrupted.
A loud sigh of relief escaped his lips as he rested his head back against the wall and began to laugh in spite of the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He’d done it. He’d done it! He knew he could! He would’ve been caught so easily if he’d killed that man right then and there.
However, that had been too close for comfort. Way too close. It’d be harder to resist next time until he finally took care of his hunger, so he’d best avoid lifts and anywhere else he’d potentially get trapped in close quarters with a human.
And he’d have to hunt soon. He must’ve gone too long since the last time and didn’t realize it. His heart sank as reality set in, but he knew he had to do it. It was his nature. Always had been. Where to do it though…?
That was for later. He quickly sorted himself out using the meager reflection in the metal doors before the lift finally arrived and let him out at his destination. Shifting his hand to the briefcase handle, he slipped into his best business-like demeanor and strode off to find his accountant’s office.
There were taxes to be done. Good ol’ normal human taxes.