Incessant Questions

The next couple of days I spend waiting around for my apartment to get setup and praying for a few moments away from the kid. As soon as he started trusting me, he asked me about everything under the moon about vampires. How many people had I killed? Which ones were the strongest? I told him I’d lost count and that seemed to upset him for some reason. I could tell I bugged him a lot too. When he asked me if I believed in God I told him no. When he asked me if I was an atheist I told him no. When he asked me what I believed in at all, I didn’t have much of a response. “But… you feel bad about it now, right? Before, you said there wasn’t a cure so you just did it to survive, but now you’re human again and all those people are dead because of you,” he asked me one time. I tell him we’ll argue about it once he’s slurped a few dry himself. I can understand that he was freaked out, but it was like he wasn’t sure if he should piss without asking me. The other problem was it started showing that the blood bags weren’t doing it. They had always been a way to get by for the milder vampires, but if you wanted to start showing a real increase of power you had to get at stuff that was still active. He still wasn’t budging on the issue, even when I proposed we go to the terminal ward of a Nursing Home and Kevorkian someone with a slurp. I think I started rubbing off on him in other ways though. He never quite dropped the Jesus routine but he stopped wearing the bracelet around the hospital. He told me about his own life sometimes. How wild he had been before the church took him in. How he was lucky to be alive. I told him he had bigger problems than meth right now, but he just laughed at that and shook his head. Eventually, they gave us both our ‘Holy weapons’ and I’d drag him out to the firing range if he started yapping too much. I couldn’t hear him over the revolvers blasting away at targets shaped like people.