I've Got a Nice Big Vampire Problem

I did not want to die.

That was all I could think of. There was so much going around me, I was sure, but all I could feel was the tremendous pain roaring through me. It felt like something was tearing me up, limb from limb. Could no one see how much pain I was in? Why didn't anybody just pause and help me?

Something in my head told me I was being selfish, wanting somebody to help me while everybody else was so busy. I knew it was true, but I told it to shut up anyways. I didn't need to be chastised. Not now.

It wasn't just external pain either. It honestly felt like my heart was failing me. With every beat, it added another millisecond onto how long it took for it to beat again. It now felt like what was left of my muscles was expanding, trying to get out of my skin.

My lungs were closed. I couldn't breathe. I wasn't breathing.

All my senses seemed to be over exerting themselves. All I could hear was a high pitched piercing noise. My nose burned so bad it felt like the skin inside was melting off. My tongue and throat was so dry it they felt like sandpaper. I couldn't feel myself touching anything. I couldn't feel the ground I lay on, or feel the fabric in my hand. I knew I was holding something, but I had no idea what it was. It was insignificant anyways. I was dying.

Something was trying to push its way into my head, through the agony, to tell me something. I tried to focus on it, and nothing happened. It just sat there, far away from reach.

But this could be my salvation. The thing that kept me fighting until someone finally noticed me. I had to get it.

It wasn't a matter of pushing and pushing until I got to it, because I couldn't push through my head to get to something that was too far away. I had to get it to come to me.

It was like a tug-o-war game. I concentrated with all I could on this stupid piece of information that just had to be so deep inside. Whenever my concentration flickered, it felt like it fell much deeper, pulling me in with it. The piece of information had an advantage. I was burning in my own personal pit of agony, which was just a slight distraction.

It felt like years it took me to fight through the pain to get even close to what had caught my attention, all the while, I knew it was probably only a few seconds. That's how it went in all the books, right? It feels like years, when actually it's only a minute or two. Maybe that's what was happening to me. That's what was probably happening to me.

I was close. If my tongue didn't feel like it was burning off, I could have it on the tip of my tongue.

Then it exploded, like it had been fighting me off. Like I was a magnet and it was metal, and it had been struggling to stay away from me.

It was just a name. Conan.

And suddenly, all the pain was worthwhile. There was no numbing of the pain. No, 'Oh, wow, I'm so happy I'm going through this.' No. I just knew I could endure. And I did.

________________________________________

The agony did not slowly slip away, or give any indication that it was done destroying me. It did not even pause to tell me my heart that it would be stopping. It just left.

I shot up, gasping. A stray scream slipped out of my mouth from my previous torture.

I could breathe again. I didn't hurt anymore. I stared around me, trying to get used to this new, non-tortured me. I wiggled the fingers on my left hand, revelling in the feel of the wind. I inhaled deeply, crisp air running through my lungs. The air smelt so much better than it had before.

Looking around, I discovered why. I was in a forest. And not just any forest, but a gorgeous, majestic forest. The pine trees were glittering as if the rain were reflecting off of every single needle that grew off of the branches. The grass was so much sharper than it had been before. I could see the little threads of green that made the grass. Where the grass bent, it left a shadow that I could see not only on the blade of grass underneath it but also in the air.

I blinked, unsure if I were seeing straight. Upon opening my eyes I saw the same intense clarity that I had before I had closed my eyes. I leaned forwards, staring at it harder.

My vision zoomed in closer than I had moved. I gasped and smacked my hand to my eyes, trying to get my eyes to go back to normal. When I removed my hand, my vision was normal – no, not normal, extremely, freakishly perfect.

I looked up at the sky. I could see the sky in all of its perfection. The sky was lined with clouds and its complexion was a pale gray. I could see every outline the clouds provided, thousands and thousands of feet up. The clouds no longer looked like flat surfaces. I could see the three dimensional quality to them; the grooves and growth that occurred as they moved.

Why was my vision so clear now? Was that what all that pain was for? Just so I could see fifty times better? If I would have not gone through that and been stuck with my 20/20 vision for the rest of my days I'm pretty sure I would have survived.

Something was in my hand. I frowned and looked down at my arm. My arm was no longer the soft, Abby arm I remembered. It was a jacked arm. I could see the thin, wiry strength that ran down my bicep. My skin seemed to just be hugging my now very nicely formed muscles, though. It didn't feel like it had any other purpose. I turned my arm up so I could look at its underside and inspect it further.

There was a crumpled up Subway napkin in my hand that was moulded to shape of my fingers. Probably from me gripping it so tight. My eyes flickered over the underside of my arm. When my eyes met my wrist, I then realized why it seemed like my skin had no other purpose than just sit there.

The blue veins that had once run so visible underneath my skin were now gone. My veins were gone.

I blinked once more, to see if my new vision refused to take in blue. I looked around for something that even resembled blue, my flickering eyes stopping on a big baby blue flower to my right five feet and nine inches away from me. My eyes flicked between the inside of my wrist and the flower. I could see blue. It was official, I had no blood.

I picked up the napkin up and unfolded it as quickly as I could, hoping that something inside this napkin could explain what was happening to me.

It was a note. The writing was smooth and neat, like someone who had been writing cursive all their life. I had to unfold it to read the whole thing. It read:

Abigail,

I must write this letter.

I know that I cannot put anything that I write now into spoken words without somehow screwing everything up. I can tell you think I don't realize when I am possessive and rude to those who show interest in you. I know I'm doing it, and I apologize if it offends you, but I honestly do not know much of the polite, soft and refined way you seem to deal with people. I just know how to command a situation as if it were a military strategy. I am trying to be more civil, but I think you've been too busy to notice.

You have changed me. Did you know I used to be the Head of Military in Cornet? No, of course you didn't. I didn't tell you. Well I was. I quit that job to stay by your side. Now, instead of always assessing if the situation to see if I could get attacked, I assess the situation from a different point of view. I see whether or not you could get killed, or harmed, or even uncomfortable. It seems that knowing you has opened up a whole other part of my mind. Now I see things not only as a threat, but I see their beauty. How could I not, really? Your inner beauty astounds me – your soul is perfect. You, Abigail Hunter, are perfect.

Of course, what this letter is leading up to is the complexity of my feelings for you. I don't know what exactly it is that I feel for you, all I've come to realize is that whatever it is, it's huge and refuses to leave me in peace. It actually feels like a small beating when you interact with me. Your smile is a kick to the chest. Your confusion and stubborn persistency is a bar to my head; leaving me dizzy. And when you talk to me, it feels as if someone is grabbing my stomach and twisting it. It is a beating that I cherish. So you are stuck with me until you decide you shall be less perfect.

Conan

Oh, and I almost forgot. I think I should tell you outright, to avoid any confusion. I absolutely adore you.

Conan.

The name was a strike to my chest. He would know what was happening. Where is he?

I stood and looked around, allowing the uncomfortable sensation of my zooming vision to take over. I could see everything, and I mean everything. I could see past every tree into the small clearing behind the large house I had been staying in with Falvor. I had only moved a fraction forward when his voice, so much more musical and fluent, sounded behind me.

"Abigail."

I used the fraction of movement I had started to carry me into a full turn to face him.

My brain took in several pieces of information at once. He was carrying a dead dear over his shoulder. His eyes were flashing with all the different emotions he seemed to be able to handle at once. The minute twitches in his face that were now visible to me showed relief, surprise, and an emotion that would have made me blush if I had any blood left in my system. My brain took in all of this, and at the same time I was still thinking about my lack of blood and how nice the weather was.

I took a moment to actually look at him. Now that my vision was perfect, I could see him perfectly. Now he was perfect. Never mind me. His chiselled jaw line, his whirlwind eyes, his thick eyelashes, and his perfect facial structure were now stunningly apparent to me. I could see the creases from his thick muscles. I could see so much about him that I hadn't been able to see before.

This gorgeous, stunning, perfect being adored me. Dorky Abigail Hunter who only read about men like him in books. The one who thought men like him only existed in a fictional world. The ironic part was he was a vampire, at the peak of the fictional world.

I was a vampire.

The thought struck me like a sledge hammer to the head. No blood. Extra powerful sight. Muscles that weren't there before and a brain that could process a thousand different things at once. I was willing to bet my life that I could also run just as fast as Conan now too.

"Conan."

My voice sounded different. I could hear the different pitches and exactly where it wobbled in that one word.

He dropped the deer as a gust of wind passed by and ruffled the leaves on the trees. I inhaled, revelling in the scent of nature. Conan went stiff as a board and watched me with wary and cautious eyes.

Offended by the look, I looked down, trying to see if I looked different. I ran my fingers across my face, feeling the stone hard skin. As I registered the fact that my skin was now rock hard, I thought of how smooth my face was. So it wasn't me.

I whipped around to look behind me. Nothing for as far as I could see.

I looked back up at him, knowing I looked worried. "What is it?"

He still looked cautious, but not as much as before. His face was turned into something else now, confusion.

"Abigail, can you jump for me?"

My eyebrows angled towards each other. Thoroughly confused, I said, "Pardon?"

"I need you to jump for me. As high as you possibly can."

"You'll tell me the reason for this once I do it, I'm guessing?"

He nodded.

So I crouched, feeling the pure power I had running through my muscles, and then pushed off the ground as hard and as fast as I could.

I flew. I soared past the trees, past a few birds and peaked at about one hundred and fifty feet from the ground.

Then I started to fall.