• My mouth opened but nothing came out except gasps of air, I wanted to fight, to claw, but my body felt feeble. His icy lips touched mine and I felt myself arch up to meet them. A voice deep within me screamed something unintelligible and I shoved as hard as I could away from his iron grasp. I felt pain first and tasted sand, I had hit the earth, the salty sand scratched my throat as I swallowed and I pushed myself up, fighting the urge to lie there and surrender. I swallowed hard again, feeling the grit go down my throat and mustered the first thought that came into my brain; “Don’t fricking touch me!” the voice that came from my throat did not sound like mine, but I knew it was. His eyes flashed, it was difficult to discern what emotion had passed behind them, and I didn’t really give a crap what he was feeling. He composed himself and looked at me with what appeared to be admiration. “It seems I choose well, you’re feisty, I like that in a woman.” His voice was condescending and flirtatious all at once. “Why should I give a crap what you like in the opposite sex, and who the hell are you anyway?!”I shot vehemently at him, anger and profanity being my only weapons on the lonely beach; I sought to use both as best I could to my advantage. Still the cold smile played across his lips as he circled me, looking me over as if I was a very entertaining toy that he was not ready to put away as of the moment. “Is this some kind of game to you, twisted retard, because if it is you should just frick off, my mommy always told me not to play with psychos.” I shot the words at him with a smirk of my own. I had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and if this guy wanted to frick with me, I darn well knew how to go down swinging, and at least if he was going to kill me I’d give the son of a biscuit eater a run for his money. He laughed heartily and looked as if I was amusing as hell “No, not a game, I’m just here to make your final transition easier, miss potty mouth.” “My final transition, what are you, a frickin’ nursing home?” I asked mockingly. “I can see we are going to get along very well, I haven’t had such lively conversation in a while.” He chuckled as if it was a joke. “I’ve had a lot of names in my time, but since I’ve just decided that we will be spending an eternity together, I suppose you should call me Till, it used to be Timothy, but I think Till sounds better.” I stared at him in what was my best impression of what someone staring at an alien must look like. “Eternity, are you kidding? I’ve been married once already, so no thanks and it’s ever so good to know that at least your mother didn’t hate you enough to name you something so stupid, Timmy boy.” My former fear had given way to wondering what crazy house he had come from and if they were looking for him. His smile was still fixed to his pallid face and my words seemed to fall onto deaf ears. Those panther eyes gleamed with inner fire and I found myself thinking that at least he was a handsome nutcase. “You’ll get used to my name after a while and since I already know yours, perhaps we should dispose with formalities, what do you think, Luci?” It was not really a question and he didn’t wait for me to reply before his arms were around my waist and a sharp pain followed by faintness tore through my body unexpectedly. I felt as if my brain was floating away in a sea of red and I was powerless to stop it. Tiny voices screamed, telling me to fight him, but it was as if they were far away, maybe somewhere outside of me. My body felt heavy and I could hear a thumping inside of me, as if I had gone to a rock concert and stood near the speaker, the vibrations traveled through me irresistibly. I smelled metal, maybe copper, then tasted it, liquid and warm on my lips. I swallowed and as I floated inside my head I wondered where the copper had come from and why it was liquid. I think he kissed me, but I felt as if it was someone else’s body, I was just watching, a victim. More copper, only it was red, and I couldn’t remember what color copper was anyway. His touch felt warm now, as he touched my face, smoothed my hair, and whispered something about eternity into my floating brain. The black dark swallowed my sight and I felt like I had when I was eighteen, I had locked myself in a car and run vacuum hoses from the exhaust, taped up all the doors, turned the car on, and died. I awoke on the ground, sick as a dog; someone had pulled me out and left me lying there on the ground. This time, nobody would pull me out, and I smiled welcomingly into the black. But the black ran from me, it taunted, as it had then, a cruel joke. His lips pressed against mine again and I slowly realized where the copper had come from, realized that it was not copper, but blood. In the following moments I realized what damnation really was, for I had met death many times in my life, I knew its embrace as an old friend, but now I would never have that kind of peace, there would be no end for me, and I cursed this demon who had taken everything from me. I think I tried to cry, but nothing came out. He held me close to his body as if we had always been lovers, and I lay there weakly wishing we would both die. I had not known sorrow such as what now filled my being since I had lost my unborn daughter a year ago, and I had not known hate such as the kind that flowed through me since my ex husband had thrown me into a wall and caused me to lose my daughter. I would never see her again now; I would never get to hold her in the afterlife, just as I had never gotten to in this one. If I could have forced movement I would have done all I could to harm this b*****d who had come into my life and taken even the smallest hopes I had, and turned me into an object. But I could not move; I could only lay there with him, and let him pick up my limp body. He carried me to what must have been his car; I smelled leather and felt it, soft and supple underneath my cheek. Immediately I missed the hard vinyl and old comfort of my own car, but he had even taken me away from my rolling fortress. I recognized my hotel and the room number as they floated upside down in front of my eyes. I felt like a drunk being carried to my room. He laid my limp form on the bed and I smelled the bleach smell of clean hotel towels as he used a damp one to wipe the blood from my throat and face. All I could do was watch, a harmless bystander to my own cruel fate. A kind of exhausted sleep nagged at my eyes and overtook me a few minutes later. My hate would have to wait until morning, if morning was ever going to come. The heavy sleep did not allow for dreams on this night, a fact that I would later find myself thankful of. It takes several hours for the full effects of vampirism to onset, as my body and my mind changed, I slept. Vampirism is a sickness, it is beautified by the wishful and the unknowing as a gift, but in truth it is a very old viral strain that has evolved into a smart, self protecting parasite. I was not to understand fully until much later, and I still find it difficult to explain the science and medicine of my illness to others. The original strain of the virus was first documented by peasants in Romania in the middle Ages, the bodies of the victims would atrophy and mock death, but true death would not follow until much later, leaving bodies withered and hideous when dug up. The virus kills the cells that cause aging and decay, insinuating itself into the host’s DNA by taking the place of these cells and excreting an enzyme that duplicates adrenaline and endorphins, but it also feeds on living blood, if not provided with a new supply of blood plasma to feed from within 14 days the virus will slowly devour tissues containing blood traces, such as the heart and lungs. The original strain migrated and changed, animals infected with the strain showed symptoms of rabies as well as plague. The early virus also ate the part of the brain that held the moral centre so as to allow the host to commit acts of evil without guilt. The virus is spread by the exchange of infected host tissues, however like all viruses it does not always take to a host, sometimes evolving once passed on to a new host; it shows symptoms of HIV and may even be where the strain for AIDs was derived from. The unadulterated virus has evolved to the extent that it will reject a host that is unfit to carry it, its goal being to keep the host alive for as long as possible in order to survive itself. It will take to an injured, but otherwise healthy host, excreting adrenaline in order keep the host alive while tissues have time to repair themselves. It is less likely but not impossible for it to take to a host already inhabited by other viruses, the tissues are weakened and the virus will reject a host unfit to carry it. Does this sound like fun to you? It’s not, and all the silly little teenagers might as well give up on their vampire romance fantasies, they may be healthy hosts to the virus, but this ain’t Botox, baby! It’s not that I completely dislike the living forever part, but having to feed off of the living in order to do so is a dismal damn existence. It was an existence that I awoke to many hours after being attacked on the beach. I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to remember everything that had happened. He must have gone to reserve the room for another night, because he was gone from my line of sight. The world outside the frilly pink curtains was grey and rainy. My limbs felt heavy and weak, I struggled to lift my arms, but they felt as if filled with lead. I stared out the window, thankful for the glimpse of daylight. Lore holds that we cannot walk in daylight, but thankfully the virus only causes mild sensitivity to direct sunlight, my skin burns easier than most and my eyes become irritated and bloodshot with too much exposure, but I can enjoy sunlight. The darkness is a friend and ally, for you cannot commit crimes such as ours in the warmth and light of the sun. I had no choice but to wait on him to return, I could not have run away or screamed, even if I had thought to do so. The walls of the room were an impersonal beige coloring with a cheap print of a landscape hung crookedly on the wall. I studied it and tried to lose myself in the imaginary trees. I imagined running through the brush and picking violets from the shaded forest floor. I found comfort in these imaginings and fell into blissful dreaming. In the dream I could hear every forest noise and smell the scent of pine mixed with scrub cedar. I watched a doe and her timid spotted fawn as they grazed at the edge of a calm crystalline pool. I reached out to pet the soft fawn, my fingers brushing his downy fur. The fawn turned toward me with his huge brown eyes and was gone. The forest disappeared and I was left to shake off sleep again. Till was back, he bustled about the room, straightening up as if I was not there, almost absentmindedly he sat on the edge of the bed and looked across at my prone form with a thoughtful expression. When he spoke it was kinder than last night, the hard edge was gone. “How do we feel today Mein leib?” his voice registered real concern and he leaned closer to me so as to study my face. I tried to think of something mean to say, but the fight had left my heart along with my strength, so I stayed silent. He pressed a flask to my lips and I drank the warm liquid from within. I this time I knew the metallic taste that filled my mouth but I swallowed anyway, against my body’s better judgment. The blood seemed to fortify my limbs and renew my strength.