The Risen

"And if I have a fault and know our love may have to halt, come to me, you'll come and see me through. Somewhere, somehow, until the end of time..." -Until the End of Time, Laurie Burgess

My eyes opened slowly, taking in the cold, lightless place I found myself in.

The first thing that I noticed was a cockroach the size of a small bottle of Tylenol crawling its way across the floor directly in front of my face. I bolted up into a standing position, wanting to get away from the disgusting thing as fast as possible. Then I crushed it under the heel of my shoe, listening to the satisfyingly loud crunch it made.

After this initial shock I began to peer into the darkness, trying to figure out where I was and how I had arrived there. At first glance it was apparent that wherever I was it sure as hell wasn't a five star hotel. The place was a mess with dirty, ragged clothes littering the floor of the small room. An old, faded and horribly stained carpet covered some of it, half buried beneath a yellowed mattress and rotted cardboard boxes. Something that looked and smelled like dried vomit was crusted onto the floor not six inches from where my head had lain.

Not even the spot I had awoken in was free of taint. Dark stains, probably dried blood, smelling strongly of copper, were all over the floor around me. Though there was no light whatsoever in this room, I could clearly make out every detail. In fact, as I became aware of the absence of my glasses, I was able to see even better than I ever had before. That bothered me slightly.

Trying to remember how I had gotten here, I closed my eyes and held my breath, concentrating on unlocking fuzzy memories. There had been an argument with my girlfriend, one I had started, and then a park, the one I always visited late at night when angry or restless. I'd sat at the bench, my favorite, listening to my mp3 player, music blaring as loud as I could make it. A shadow had moved at the corner of my vision, then after that, nothing.

Sighing as nothing more came to me I opened my eyes and began to search for the exit. My stomach was starting to burn like I hadn't eaten a decent meal in days and the thought of food was suddenly very important. As my insides clenched in pain I spotted an open doorway near a battered table and a couple of chairs on the other side of the room. The door lay in pieces, scattered in the hallway beyond the doorway.

I started for the exit and just as I got there a dark haired man entered the room. Surprised, I stepped back instinctively, raising my hands in a fighting stance as I readied myself for a confrontation. Strangely the burning in the pit of my stomach ceased as my focus shifted to the possible danger.

“It's about time you woke up,” the stranger rasped.

My eyes warily roved over this possible threat as he leaned casually against the door frame. He was an average looking white guy, slightly taller than myself, which had to make him around five foot six. Dressed in a blue t-shirt and faded blue jeans, with a pair of sneakers and several days worth of beard, he looked to be in his mid twenties. The amused look on his face, like he knew something I didn't, immediately pissed me off.

“Ready for a fight are you?” he said in that same cheese grater voice. “I'm a bit more experienced than you so I wouldn't try anything.”

“What makes you think that?” I said, my voice coming out in a low growl that was utterly alien to me.

“You're only three days old kid,” he replied. “You have no idea what you're capable of yet, so why don't you just sit down in that chair over there and let me explain some things to you.”

Something began nagging at my mind when he said three days old, something that seemed to fall in line with my now perfect vision, the pain in my stomach, and the growl. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there, a point of light in a black abyss.

“Explain what?” I asked, suspicious and confused.

“What you're doing here for starters,” he replied, walking slowly over to the table, eyes on me the entire time. “Now look kid, I didn't have to stay here and wait while you came to. I coulda high tailed it outa this damn city. I should have. However, I think you deserve a heads up to your new place in the world, after what you've been through.”

“So,” he illustrated with his forefinger. “You can either sit down, shut up and let me explain. Or I can leave now and you can figure s**t out by your damn self. Your choice.”

The annoyance in his tone was obvious and strangely, I was almost sure I could feel it. Pieces of the puzzle were coming fast but my mind just wouldn't accept the picture they were showing me. It couldn't be possible, yet that didn't stop it from seeming real. The only one who seemed like they could clear up the picture was in front of me. So ignoring the obvious, I eased up and sat down cautiously in a chair, placing one of my hands on the table. My strange 'host' joined me with a sigh, pulling a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his back pocket.

“So, who are you and what am I doing here?”

“Well,” he said, lighting up and laying the carton on the rotting table between us. “Seeing as after tonight you won't ever see me again, I can't say as it matters who I am. You can call me Max though. As for your other question...”

He paused, exhaling a cloud of smoke that somehow made the rancid air more pleasant. Then he fixed his blue eyes on mine.

“I brought you here. Three days ago, after our little scuffle in the park.”

What the hell? I thought. I'd been unconscious for three days? And then; “You abducted me?” I hissed, feeling my rage begin to boil inside of me. The hand on the table clenched as I fought the urge to lunge at Max and...the image of ripping him apart with my bare hands flashed in my mind for an instant. Not knowing where that came from, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, waiting for his answer.

“Yes,” he said, his face not registering the fact that I must have looked extremely angry. “You put up quite a struggle too. When I first saw you I didn't think someone so short could give me such a hard time.”

The b*****d must have overpowered me at the park, brought me here and then given me some kind of drug. It's the only way I could think that would have kept me out for three days, especially since I didn't feel injured at all. Yet, even with this revelation, the memories weren't coming back to me. It all ended with the shadow at the corner of my eye. It frustrated me and made the violent urges even harder to control. I needed more information.

“I didn't bring you here to hurt you, but what's done is done.”

“What does that mean?” I spat.

“Can't you tell yet?”

“Tell what?” I asked, another few pieces falling into place. His beating around the bush was seriously pissing me off. I did not want to be here.

He sighed, finishing his cig.

“Check your pulse, kid.”

I growled in annoyance as I did what he said. After a long, tense moment, with my fingers against my throat and Max's eyes boring into mine, I realized something. My heart wasn't beating. There was no rhythmic pounding to signify that I was alive. Shocked, I stopped breathing like I sometimes do and found that it felt different. I felt normal and not like I was holding my breath.

“Yea,” he whispered, consolingly. “It doesn't beat anymore. And you no longer need to breathe.”

The final piece fell into place and I knew. I had always wondered...and now I knew. I just needed to hear him say it.

“What have you done to me?”

“To get to the point, you're a vampire now.”

There it was. Cold confirmation that what my mind had shown me after I realized I could feel his emotions leaking out from him was true. I was a vampire, one of the so called Damned, a blood sucking parasite. I had been intrigued by them since I was little, watching any movie I could, reading books, poems, even going so far as to write some of my own. And now the creator had become the created. I was one of my characters, in a story I didn't know the outline to.

A silent thrill filled me.

“That's it kid,” Max breathed, his eyes never leaving me. “Take it all in and digest the news. I know you're probably wigging out, but don't. Don't worry about vomiting, you can't do that anymore. “

I looked away, feigning shock. Now that I had accepted the truth, things became more clear. My vision was indeed sharper, ignoring the usual obstacle of darkness the room presented. Things were intense now. Smells were much stronger, the odiousness of the room greater and yet more manageable at the same time. I could also hear the sounds of traffic, crickets, and feint voices, which either meant my hearing was really good or I was near a busy street.

More than all that though, was the burn in the pit of my stomach. I now knew very well what it meant, what I would have to do to make it more bearable. Just the thought of leaving here to assuage my hunger made my gums ache, made the pain all the more intense. I also knew that for as long as my “condition” persisted, it would never go away. Curious, I opened my mouth and gently probed my upper and lower gums. Just as I had suspected there they were. My own set of long, sharp fangs.

A sudden image flashed into my mind, of my fangs buried into the throat of someone important to me. Letting go and watching her fall to the ground. Her dark hair splayed on the dirt, beautiful brown eyes staring blankly up at me, missing that fire I loved so much, never to look at me again.

I recoiled from the thought, a sick sense of excitement filling me. How could I feel this way?

An overwhelming sense of longing for the woman that I loved came over me. The thought of harming her, of never being able to touch her, hold her in my arms again, because I might lose control and destroy all that she was filled me with a burn that had nothing to do with hunger. As I began to see red, my eyes snapped to the one who had turned me into a beast.

Max seemed oblivious to my feelings, looking for all the world as if he couldn't care less about what he had done to me. However, though he showed no evidence of being able to sense mine, I could feel his emotions easily and with ever increasing clarity. There were waves of concern coming from him, as well as more than a little guilt. He regretted what he had done to me. Which begged a question.

“Why?” I demanded.

“I don't know why you,” he confessed. “It's hard to explain, kid. As far as I know, at least for me, there come times when I see a human and they just have this glow about them. It's so alluring, drawing me towards them. And I know, no matter how far I run, how long I have fought to stay away, that there will be no other outcome. I will hunt them down, stalk them like some shade of death, drink their blood, even if it's just a sip, and then it will be over. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they will die, and three nights later they'll rise and become like me.”

There was such pain and shame emanating from him that it was almost too much for me to handle. It was like he was an enormous, bleeding wound that couldn't be staunched or bandaged in any way. I felt pity for him...for myself. By this alone I knew that Max wasn't lying to me about the reasons behind my current condition.

And just like that all my anger was gone, leaving me feeling somewhat hollow, and emphasizing the hunger within. I wanted, needed to fill that cold, hollow pit inside with something warm.

“So what now?” I sighed.

He slid the carton of reds across the table, along with his aluminum lighter.

“Light up. It'll help with the thirst. Trust me.”

Skeptical, I lit one and inhaled deeply, drawing the strong smelling smoke into my useless lungs. At once I felt the burn in my stomach cool somewhat. Apparently the thing did help, making me briefly ponder the true nature of vampires if something as mundane as cigarette smoke could hold the thirst at bay, even if only for a short while.

“You'll still need to feed soon,” he said. “That cig won't stop the burn for long. And I make no promises about the nobility of a feed. You'll most likely lose it that first time and drain your first meal dry. With that in mind I wouldn't pick someone you care about as your first.”

There was an influx of shame, regret, sadness, and love from Max that I was almost certain that he had learned that little lesson the hardest way possible. There was nothing I could do for him now though. The past was the past. So I forged on, for my own sake.

“Aside from the first time then...how often and how much?”

“Preferably every day, less often if you have the control. It's possible to go a few days without eating but then people start looking like walking blood bags. You'll be weaker too. The more blood in your system, the stronger you are. If you can, feed multiple times a day. As for how much, drink shallowly. I would estimate you need a few pints a day. Try to spread it out over a few people though. You seem like the type that doesn't want a bunch of deaths on his conscience. And don't worry about how you go about it, so long as they're alone. Something in our bite knocks em out and makes em forget what just happened.”

That little tidbit clarified another part of the picture. It was why I had such difficulty remembering what had happened at the park. His bite had given me a form of amnesia. It would certainly help greatly in my own hunting. That also went a long way in explaining the why behind the general lack of real knowledge about vampires. No one remembered ever encountering one.

“Next question,” I stated, pressing on. “Is there some kind of vampire society? Any special rules I should be worried about?”

“Not that I know of,” he snorted. “I assume vampires are loners by nature, because I've only ever met two others, one of which is no longer among the undead.”

I felt his bitterness and anger at the mention of this...dead vampire. Perhaps it was the one that made him. Still, it didn't concern me and I couldn't do anything about it. I just nodded without saying a word.

“Immortality?” I asked after a few moments.

“I don't know about that but since I woke up like this I haven't aged a day.”

So I probably wouldn't keel over from old age. Good to know in a way.

“Sunlight?”

“Don't get any ideas about suntanning,” he chuckled. “Believe me when I say more than five minutes with Mr. Sunshine and you'll start lookin like a roasted marshmallow. The shade is your best friend during the day.”

“Alright,” I went on. “Do vampires have any supernatural powers, like in books and movies? Or is it all just made up?”

“I haven't seen a vampire that could turn into a bat if that's what you're asking. Being a dead man walking has its perks though. You're probably about five times stronger than you were before, with better sight, hearing and a sense of smell close to that of a dog. You'll be able to run a little faster than your average Joe and you won't tire as easily, though you do need to sleep from time to time.”

I thought about what he'd just said for a few moments. Vampires were turning out to be almost exactly as I had imagined them. I now had all the power that I had desired for so long, ever since I was a kid. I could do things that no human could do, would probably outlive them all if I was careful. Would any Van Hellsings come out of the woodwork to try and end my evil or would I have to be more wary of others like me? I eyed Max warily.

“What about regeneration?”

“Regene-what?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Healing powers,” I sighed in annoyance. “If I get stabbed in the chest or hit by a car, will I die like a human or will it fix itself?”

“Oh that. As far as I know, the only thing that will probably kill you is if you get your dome cut off. Probably sunlight and fire too. Other than that I would say you're fine. Although...as an afterthought, I would probably stay away from wood chippers and bombs.”

I nodded, satisfied. He had answered everything that I wanted to know and any other questions that pertained to vampires weren't as important as the ones that had already been asked. I had all that I needed. I was ready to leave. But there was one last thing I needed to do.

Standing up, I put out the cigarette I had been smoking by crushing it in the palm of my hand. The pain was almost nonexistent and the minor burn disappeared within seconds. I took a deep breath that I didn't need, inhaling the foul odors of the s**t hole Max had let my body lie in for three days. Among the many scents of that disgusting miasma I could smell something else, something different. It was an earthy smell, like fresh dirt, recently turned.

It was the scent of Max and myself, vampires both.

“So,” I whispered. “Is that it? No more vampire wisdom to give me?”

He shook his head as he stood up. “No. Not unless you can come up with-”

His words were cut off as I launched myself across the table and drove my right fist as hard as I could into his face. A loud crack indicated when his jaw shattered and dislocated itself from the rest of his skull. Max stumbled into the wall, a growl issuing from low in his throat but coming out slightly garbled due to his broken jaw. He reached up to hold the lower half of his face with one hand, while the other seemed instinctively held out between us, open, with fingernails that had grown into inch long claws.

As he glared, his anger wafting towards me, I held my right hand up and flexed it instinctively in a way I couldn't have before. The nails of my hand, which were pointier than I remembered, extended outward, curling slightly so that they exactly matched the ones on the hand of the other vampire. I gazed at them, considering whether or not I should press the attack. Max was older than I, how much older I didn't know. I was also inexperienced in the way my kind did combat. And he had already bested me once, when I was still...human.

That was when I noticed the two rings on the hand. Both were silver; one being a high school ring with a red garnet in the center,which had my own name engraved into it. Nathaniel. The other I had acquired the year before. It was a Claddagh ring, gifted to me by my girlfriend, Elena for our anniversary.

With these two hands, I thought, remembering what the ring signified.

I would see her again. No matter what.

So I backed away from Max and lowered my hand, retracting my claws. Then I watched, and listened, as his face reknit itself, bones popping, blood flowing through him, healing what I had destroyed. The entire process took maybe a minute. Vampires sure healed fast, a fact I would remember for later.

“That was for turning me into a bloodsucking monster and dumping me in this roach infested pigsty for three f*****g days. I won't take this any further because I know that it wasn't out of spite that you did this to me. I even forgive you for what you did.”

He stared at me for a few moments in silence, confusion and anger mixed together. They were quickly dowsed and followed by relief. Max lowered his hand, claws disappearing. He glanced through the shadowed doorway, into the hall beyond, and then huffed.

“Can't say as I blame ya,” he rasped. “I killed the son of a b***h that created me. Though that was warranted mind you.”

I raised a curious eyebrow. “What did he do?”

The vampire looked me in the eye, a cold, empty look on his face. At that moment I felt dread, despair, hate, and a pain so profound emanate from him that I knew he'd suffered the death of a loved one. I couldn't imagine anything else that could bring on that kind of pain.

"He killed the woman I loved."

It was what I had suspected, what I had felt from him. And I thought of Elena.

“I'm sorry,” I said, but I knew the words weren't enough and that nothing ever would be.

“Yea,” he muttered, looking away.

“Thanks for filling me in,” I said, walking through the doorway into the dark hall. I paused just outside the door and looked back at him.

“One last thing though.”

His eyes locked on mine with a questioning look.

“How do you go on?”

Silence crept in and settled the space between us. For several long minutes he just looked at me saying nothing. I could feel his emotions warring within him, anger, grief, sadness, and love in a mix so powerful that I wondered how bad it had been for him those first few years. Finally, he sighed and walked over to the table, getting another cigarette and lighting it. After blowing out the smoke, he took a breath and spoke.

“I take it day by day, going on with the knowledge that she would want me to.”

Nodding silently, I left.

All the while the hunger burned...

********************************************

The thirst was a physical ache inside of me as I moved down the street, sticking to the shadows.

It was a bleak night, with no sign of the moon, even though the sky was clear. I could still make out the stars, which were more intense than I ever remember them being before now. Though I imagined to someone else the darkness would be too much, holding terror and unknown danger, I was beginning to feel at home. Many of the street lamps were broken, this being a poorer, less maintained side of town.

And that suited me just fine.

My feet carried me across the cracked sidewalk faster than a normal person and the deep shadows that stretched across my path provided much sought after cover. Within them I was a blur, just another shade that would not long be remembered if anyone saw me. I had a destination in mind, one that I knew would never be a true refuge for me again. There was too much risk involved, too much that could go wrong. Control was at the forefront of my thoughts, something I had always possessed, but now would be sorely tested.

I was no longer human, but I was not yet a monster.

After what seemed like barely half an hour I came to a grinding halt. The blood on my clothes, my blood, was giving off an aroma that was dissolving my rational mind. It smelled so f*****g good, days old that it was, and I was finding it hard to think past the fact that I needed blood badly. Panting, I was drowning in a maelstrom of my own new found addiction, the fire in the pit of my stomach so painful I didn't think I could move. And yet, if I was going to survive, I had to move, had to find what I needed.

And as if by providence, my fix found me.

“Don't move!” a voice demanded in a harsh whisper, as I felt something hard pressed into the back of my skull.

So great was my agony that I didn't immediately acknowledge the person speaking to me. I just stood there, bent over, heaving in huge gulps of air. I was weak, and one of the nearby predators had homed in on that weakness. An impact against my head sent me sprawling to the ground, face grating against rough concrete.

“Give me your wallet!” my attacker said a little louder.

Looking up, I saw his form towering over me, the barrel of a 9mm handgun staring down into my eyes. My gaze flicked to him and immediately some sort of instinct kicked in. The pain became bearable, though it didn't go away. And suddenly he wasn't my attacker any more. My senses homed in on him, feeling his own hunger; for money, power, drugs, anything that he could take from me. He was food and I could smell the blood in his veins, hear his heart pumping a little faster from the thrill he got from his own violence.

Idiot, I thought. You should have just taken my wallet and run.

Unafraid, I stood, facing the man in front of me.

“I said give me your wallet!” he repeated, fiercer this time, pointing his gun at my chest.

Confusion injected itself into his emotional makeup. I wasn't behaving how he had expected, there was no fear on my face, no cowering and begging for my life. He got off on it, that much was plain from the feel of his emotions. His heart was like a rotted onion and I was peeling away the layers, seeing the diseased core. This man was an even more perverted beast than I was, enjoying the way his victims pleaded with him before he took what they had, and then ended their lives with a pull of the trigger.

“No,” I growled.

Anger crossed his features and I sensed it, moments before he fired his gun. The flash violently drove away the darkness of the alley, if only briefly, just as the sound broke the silence. I felt a pressure on my chest from the impact, followed shortly by a hard yank from behind as the bullet ripped through my back. With a second flash, the sound echoing in my ears, my body jerked again, and I stumbled into the wall behind me. Pain blossomed immediately where I had been wounded, and I could feel what little blood was left in my body leaking out. But the pain the bullets caused was nothing compared to the acid of my terrible need.

Without a word I fell on him, my hands a vice, one gripping his gray shirt, the other yanking his head to the side. His exposed throat was mine and I took it, letting all the darkness residing in my soul for years, wash over me. The hate and pain had only been intensified by my death and resurrection. Fangs ripped through gums and I struck him like a cobra, wrenching my head to the side, opening his artery. A gurgled scream cut short was his only protest and then I was drinking him.

It was a violent eruption, blood spurting out, his existence dripping away, fueling my own. The man's blood was bittersweet, but carried with it a euphoria I had never known. Emotions became almost nonexistent, and in the back of my mind I knew he had fallen unconscious from my bite. But that was drowned amidst the intense pleasure washing over me, through me, cooling the inferno that was my hunger, my insatiable thirst. I glutted myself on the fountain of him and I couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, would never stop.

That was when I started seeing things. Flashes of images, bits of sound and sensory input assailed my mind. I heard voices, people crying and begging for their lives, I saw tear streaked faces and bloodstained corpses. A hand was loading bullets one by one into a clip and then locking it into a familiar nine millimeter, followed by a gunshot. I felt elation, a sense of power and superiority at having made myself akin to a god. The gun in my hand doled out punishment and mercy, but always it was the fear on their faces that I craved.

Such things did I see, feel and hear, fragments of this man, David Feltz's memories. Over and over again I saw the images, a sickening replay that on some level thrilled me. Part of me connected with this monster, understood intimately how he felt. But a larger part, more dominant, the better half pulled away from those images. The part of me that was Nathaniel and not the beast was horrified that he had felt kinship with a sadistic murderer. He, I, had to escape the prison of this man's memories.

Then I heard it, a loud thump, thump. Instinct told me it was the heartbeat of my prey, signifying the nearness of his passing. Listening, I focused on that sound, and its fading pushed back the other memories, until only a few remained. I, he, was in a motel, paying for a room, until a week from tonight. A key was given with a number on it, six. The location burned itself into my mind as his heart beat once, twice, and then no more.

I pulled out of the kill with a gasp, my victim, David's corpse falling to the ground. The blood left a bitter taste on my tongue as I stared down at him. His throat was a mess, a large chunk gone, laying a few feet away. My mind emptied except for one thought.

Thank God I didn't swallow it.

Moments later I came back to myself, the shock of my first feeding, first kill, fading. David's memories buzzed around in my mind, sounds, smells and emotions associated with them like ghosts that wouldn't leave me be. If I tried to focus on one, the others flitted around obscuring it. Yet the memory of the motel and the key were crystal clear. I wondered why, and if I would ever be able to call the others to my mind as easily and clearly as those few.

A sense of contentment crept over me, leaving the torment in my stomach much eased, as if someone had dumped large chunks of ice inside me. My body positively hummed with the power in the blood of the dead man at my feet. I was strong, stronger than I had ever been and if I played the game well enough, there would be no end for me. What I had wanted for years was finally mine.

I had become a vampire.

Laughter bubbled up from within, spilling forth in a peal of what must have been a fit of hysterical giggling. I couldn't fight it as I stood there, laughing like an insane person, a body on the ground, and covered in blood, both his and mine. If anyone had stumbled upon me they would have been frightened, but luckily, I remained alone with the corpse and my mirth.

After several minutes my laughter ceased and I came back to reality. Glancing down the alley, I wasn't sure how much time had passed while I had drained him and been imprisoned within his mind. He had fired a gun and even in this neighborhood the police would be responding. My eyes returned to the pale, bloodless corpse on the ground. I had no time for guilt, wasn't even sure that I felt any. All that was left was practicality.

I knew what I had to do.

The gun went into the waistband of my jeans as I searched David's pockets. I found a gum wrapper, sixty-three cents, a zippo lighter but no cigarettes,the motel key and his beat up wallet. Inside was a hundred and thirty-four dollars, leading me to believe I had not been his first victim of the night. There was also a plain white card with the name, Rafael, and a number on it. It piqued my curiosity, so I put it back in and pocketed the guys belongings.

Next I retrieved the shell casings from the ground and searched the wall behind me for the two bullets David had put in me. It didn't take me long to find them, imbedded not too far apart from each other. I glanced around and listened intently for a few moments, making sure no one was coming. Then I flexed a muscle in my hand, causing the inch long claw in my forefinger to extend outward. I used it to pry the bullets from the wall, pocketing them as well, removing some of the evidence from this place. I'd seen the CSI shows and figured if real police worked anything remotely like that, I'd best take them with me.

The chunk of David's throat went into his pocket with the gum wrapper. David himself I hoisted onto my shoulder, effortlessly. I didn't feel his weight at all and he looked to be at least a hundred-eighty pounds. Vampiric strength definitely was a nice bonus for having already died. Taking one last look around the alley to see if I had missed anything, I was certain of one thing.

If I was damned, I sure as hell was going to get the most out of it.

*************************************

Several hours had passed since my first feeding...and kill. True to the words of Max, my sire as I chose to call him, I had lost control. Unable to stop drinking from my victim, I had drained him entirely, taking into me not only his life essence, but also some of his memories. After some reflection I decided I felt no guilt in taking the man's life. After all, he had shot me twice.

After going through the meager belongings he had on him, I had done my best to cleanse the alley of evidence, taking his body, the shell casings and the bullets. The few specs of blood, his and mine, I could do nothing about. Then it was off to dispose of them.

In an abandoned plot of land I dug a deep hole with a shovel I'd taken from someone's backyard, putting the body along with the bullets and casings inside. Then, using his own lighter and some nearby weeds, I set David Feltz's corpse on fire. From the shadows of a nearby tree I watched him burn, the stench of cooked human flesh coming to me on the light wind. No one came to investigate and no one saw as I buried what was left. The act of murder and covering it up had turned out to be obscenely easy. It made me wonder at the number of unsolved disappearances that were truly well taken care of killings.

Leaving that place I had made my way back to my home of twenty-one years, knowing it would offer me no shelter. The neighborhood was quiet at this time of night, everyone being logically asleep. My brother's truck was gone but the Element remained. At the door, I paused, listening to the sounds within. I briefly wondered if I needed an invitation to enter the house that had been my refuge. What if I was barred by some metaphysical rule that my creator had failed to mention?

The yapping bark of a small dog got my attention, pulling me from my musings. My parents dog, a little pudgy mass of noisy ADHD was on the other side of the door, scratching wildly. My senses immediately ensnared Nibelung's emotional scheme, letting me know the dog was excited I was home. I was surprised the dog recognized me even though I was now a vampire, even more surprised that he had no negative reaction towards me.

Listening intently, tuning out the sound of Nibbles' whining, I heard my parents breathing, the ruffle of sheets, a fan on high, and the soft beating of their hearts. Asleep, I assumed, putting my key in the lock. I entered the house as quietly as I could with Niblelung yapping and jumping on me, finding my way unbarred. Then it was to my room with purpose.

I left my house with my backpack and a black duffel bag, full of clothes and some important personal belongings. Around my neck hung the locket my girlfriend, Elena, had given me for our two year anniversary the year before. Behind the dangling dragon and the cover was a picture of her in a beautiful blue dress, taken at prom. Heart full of longing, I ran through the night, her being my final destination.

A short while later I was inside the motel room that David Feltz had rented for the week. Ten minutes in the shower had cleansed me of the gore, both from my feeding and the three days worth of dried blood from my death. The clothes I had worn the night I died and for the next three days were burning a few miles away in a trash can. Clean ones from the duffel bag, a shave, a self done haircut and I looked almost like myself.

The bathroom mirror showed a man much different than who I'd been.

My hair was damp, dark, and slightly spiked. Though my face looked much the same it had become a little thin. My cheeks were more pronounced, lips slightly red instead of being pale like my skin now was. Dark brows shadowed pale green eyes; a new development as I'd been born with ones that were nearly black. Something from the transformation I assumed, along with my better defined muscles and flat stomach. Becoming a vampire had done away with the old body, replacing it with one designed for hunting.

Not that I minded.

In the motel room I had discovered something else. Briefly watching the news I saw that an earlier report had been about me. My disappearance had been connected to a large pool of blood, a broken pair of glasses, and a chunk of esophagus found at the bench in the park Max had taken me from. I was believed to be dead and now the police were simply searching for my body in hopes that it would provide clues as to the identity of my murderer. My parents had refused to talk to interviewers for their report, as had my girlfriend.

I shook my head. The b*****d had ripped out my throat.

After the news ended, I took up my black leather jacket. It had been a gift from my mother and my favorite article of clothing. The scent of it reminded me of home and of the woman who had often worn it in the winter chill. I thought of her and was filled with longing. She must be in such pain.

Closing my eyes, I remembered a talk we had had not so long ago. I thought it had been silly at the time, but in light of recent events I wondered if it had been prophetic. Elena had made me promise her that if I ever became a vampire, no matter what, I would let her know.

I had left the motel to fulfill that promise.

Now I stood on the street outside her house. The gray car she owned was parked in the driveway, those of her parents and sister as well. Seeing as everyone in her immediate family was home tonight, a rarity, I would need to take care. I didn't want anyone else to know that I wasn't as dead as the police assumed me to be.

I moved up to her window as quietly as I could, discovering I barely made a sound when I tried. The bougainvillea planted there let out an interesting scent, one I wasn't sure I would have been able to smell as a human. It was another aching reminder of the life I no longer had. However, my feelings were pushed aside as soon I felt torment that lay within her room.

Elena, my love, was engulfed in a shroud of despair, choking on heartache, and lost amidst a loneliness so dense it brought tears to my eyes. The agony she felt at my loss was even stronger than what I had felt festering within Max. And as I peered through her window, saw her curled up on her bed, rocking back and forth with a death grip on the stuffed black cat I'd given her, I was hit by a realization.

I had never really understood how much she truly loved me.

My hand reached out of its own accord and rapped on her window. She was startled by the noise and her head snapped to the window. I waited a moment as she stared, seemingly unable to see me. I tapped again, louder this time and more urgently. Fear momentarily spiked through her and I knew it had to be dispelled quickly.

“Elena,” I whispered, stepping more fully into view. “It's me, it's Nathaniel.”

At my words she rushed over and gazed out at me. When our eyes met, hers widened and I heard the breath catch in her throat. Shock was the first emotion that washed over her, followed quickly by joy, fear, love, and even more heartache. It hurt me to watch her suffer, but in a moment that would all go away.

“Come outside,” I urged, and as I said that I was reminded of old tales of vampires, luring former loved ones into the night to feast on.

A moment of stunned silence followed, in which she only stared. Then the spell was broken and she dashed out of her room. A few steps later and I was leaning against one of the columns in the entryway outside the front door, waiting. As it opened, she practically flew out, not waiting a second. Elena barreled into my open arms and was overcome with wracking sobs, her emotions in a chaotic frenzy.

Stroking her long auburn hair, all I could do was whisper comforting words, attempting to soothe her as best as I could. Her body trembled uncontrollably and she felt so fragile in my arms, so precious, like the finest crystal, easily breakable. After a few moments, I scooped her up and walked to the car she owned, where I sat down, her small figure nestled in my lap. The salt smell of her tears made my heart ache for her.

I can't deny that I was relieved to be with her, though. It had only been three days, three days I hadn't been awake for, but it felt like a lifetime. My world seemed to have changed, though really it was just me who had. Things were different, there were creatures besides humans out there, beyond human perception. Yet I was happy to be here, to hold the woman I loved. It took me back, made me feel normal.

Not long after, she got a hold of herself. The wracking sobs passed away and her brown eyes met my green ones. Tears covered her beautiful face and her cheeks were flushed. Unable to resist the urge, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. The kiss was amazing, even if a little salty. I tried to be gentle, not wanting to hurt her, but she would have none of it. Elena deepened the kiss, making her tongue dance with mine, trying to inhale me, to keep me as close as possible.

I felt the desperation in her heart, in the kiss. It was if she could ground me with her lips, preventing me from ever leaving. I embraced her desperation with my own, wanting to have no space between us, wanting to draw her so far into me that she would never be gone. Reality felt fragile, teetering on the precipice of something I didn't want experience. She was the only thing that I was sure of in that moment, the only thing I recognized.

The beat of her heart became loud in my ears, her scent intensifying, vanilla and wild rain forest. I found my mouth breaking from hers, moving along her chin, down, to where I could feel her pulse straining to reach me. She gasped as my lips touched the flesh of her throat, as I lapped at it with my tongue, nipped with my teeth. I felt intoxicated, drunk on her, wanting to lose myself to everything she had to offer.

Fangs slid down from my gums and I paused over that commanding rhythm pounding out just beneath her skin. The hunger roared to life within me, awoken by the deep desire I felt for the woman in my arms. My fangs caressed her, eliciting a moan, then pressed down gently, pricking the flesh. A single drop of blood welled up and the moment it touched my tongue, sweeter than chocolate with an electric current, my eyes snapped open.

Oh God what was I about to do!?

I recoiled in horror, falling backwards onto the pavement, dumping Elena out of my lap. Crawling away from her, my eyes roved her body, the hunger roaring in my head, burning me because I wanted her blood so badly. But I couldn't, wouldn't let myself go. I had to get away, had to protect her from myself. If I allowed myself to feed, to have the slightest taste, I could lose control. If I fed from her and she died, she would stay dead.

She didn't have the glow!

“Nathaniel what's wrong?” she asked, startled.

“I...I can't,” I replied in a shaking voice, closing my eyes. I tried not to look at her, to smell her, to hear the blood or the beat of her heart.

“I have to leave, oh God, I can't stay here.”

Hurt lacerated her heart, snapping me out of my delirium. I couldn't walk away like this, I had to explain, there was a promise to keep. Steeling myself, I used every ounce of control I had, every drop of love I had ever felt for her and threw it in the face of my hunger. Agony ripped through me, tearing through my chest, as the thirst refused to be denied. Gritting my teeth, I refused to scream, to give in and let the pain defeat me.

Seeing my torment, Elena made a move to come to me. Her love and concern reached out to me, attempting to draw me in. I couldn't let her. She didn't know the truth, didn't know how dangerous I was.

“Stay away from me!” I snarled, and she froze.

She was suddenly overcome with shock, disbelief, and fear. And I knew. My secret was out. Elena had seen my fangs, elongated, sharp, glinting, wanting nothing more than to bury themselves in her flesh. But then I saw the red glow, reflecting in her eyes, on her sweet face, staring eerily back at me from my image on her car.

“What...what happened to you?” she stammered, voice choked with her fear and confusion.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” I pleaded, my hunger straining to break free. “You weren't supposed to find out this way. I promised to tell you if ever...but not like this.”

I saw realization cross her face, saw when she understood what happened, where I'd been for three days. The puzzle pieces fell into place for her, one by one in quick succession, and she knew what I was, what I had become. My pain mixed with hers, my tears fell just as hers did, and yet I still burned for her, yearned for her life.

“You're dead...”

It wasn't a question.

I closed my eyes and nodded, shame eating me alive. We couldn't be together ever again. I had fooled myself into thinking everything would be alright once I got to her. Things were so much worse than if I had just stayed away, let her believe me dead. Why hadn't I just stayed away?

“Look at me,” she said, her voice hard.

My eyes opened and met hers. Our gazes locked and I saw that her face had gone blank, emotionless. Fear jolted through me when I realized I couldn't feel what she felt. She had become a shadow to my new found power. Silence stretched between us for an instant that was like eternity, long, dark and cold.

“I love you,” she stated suddenly.

And just like that her emotions came flooding back to the surface. Elena's emotional scheme lit up like a Christmas tree. Pure, untainted love exploded in her, traveled outward and rushed towards me like a tidal wave. It crashed into me hard, washed over me, and a miracle happened. The hunger, the snarling biting need inside me was drowned, locked into dormancy. My agony abated, fangs and claws retracting, and the glow from my eyes faded.

Stunned, I did nothing as she came to me, pulled me into her arms, and rocked me gently, as I had done to her just before. The love she felt for me hummed through her, seeped into me and chased away the cold, the pain, and the thirst.

“I love you,” I shuddered, unable to control my body. “I love you so much. I'm so sorry...I almost lost control.”

“Shh,” she whispered. “I love you more.”

“Not possible,” I chuckled. “We've already had this discussion, remember?”

“I love you the same then,” she countered with a smile in her voice, just holding me.

After a few moments, I made a decision I hoped was the right one.

“I can't stay,” I whispered, knowing it was true. The burn of my addiction may have been beaten down for now, but it would always be there. It would always return. Until I learned control, I had to stay away from the only woman I love, the only thing that mattered.

“No,” she said harshly. “You can't. Why do you want to leave me again?”

“I don't. I never want to leave you. But I have to. If I stay, I could kill you.”

“Then make me a vampire too!”

I shook my head. “I wish I could, but you don't have the glow, and you have to have the glow, otherwise if I try, you won't come back. I won't let myself be the death of you, Elena. I f*****g love you too much.”

“Why?” she pleaded, even though I knew she knew the answer. “Why can't you stay?”

“You know why,” I said as I stood, pulling her with me.

Caressing her cheek, I gazed into her eyes, and for a brief moment, like the flash of a shooting star, she seemed to glow with a golden light. It was like looking at an angel, there for an instant, and then gone. It happened so fast I was sure I had imagined it. Just wishful thinking, a hope that only showed me an illusion.

“I love you,” I breathed, and kissed her softly, the barest touch. “Nothing can change that, ever. I will see you again.”

“I love you too. When will I see you again?”

I sighed. “I don't know...when I have control. When I'm sure I won't hurt you by being near.”

“You aren't hurting me right now. Just stay, please.”

“Baby...I...there's no way around this. As long as I'm around you, you're in danger. I want you more than anything...and that makes me unsafe.”

I pulled away, but her hand wouldn't let go. Staring at it, I didn't want her to let me go, didn't want to leave. Heart heavy, feeling every ounce of hurt that she did, I just wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let go. But it was impossible. There was nothing I could do except walk away. Once I learned to control the hunger, I would return.

“I'll be back,” I whispered, tugging my hand free of hers. “I promise.”

“Wait!”

I paused, unable to make myself leave. I gazed at her sadly. Elena held up her hand, offering me her pinky, tears falling silently, the sobs held back.

“Kitty Promise,” she demanded.

Smiling, I wrapped my pinky around hers.

“I Kitty Promise,” I said, kissing her finger and she mine.

Then I let go, turned and ran. And though she chased me, and called my name, and begged and pleaded with me to return, I didn't stop. I ran, from the pain, from the guilt, from the world, but most of all from myself.

Her cries echoed in my ears and wouldn't leave me be...

Author's Note

A revision of a short story I wrote for a contest.

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

Very strong write, excellent detail, very polished. I did not notice anything obvious on first go -- doesn't mean there aren't errors, but it does mean a) the story was interesting enough to make them not noticeable or b) there aren't many to be found. And you know, I don't B.S., and I am not really a vampire fan. But you do it well.