Without a Sound

(Mikey’s P.O.V.)

I stood like a statue by the door until Charlotte was well out of range. The blood in her veins was dwindling; she’d be thirsty soon. That meant we’d have to kill again.

I sighed when she was gone. I felt like something was missing inside me, and everything around me looked different. Somehow nothing was as bright. Why had she been acting so strange?

I couldn’t help but think it had something to do with that book of poems. Maybe it was invading her privacy, but… I decided to read it. I wandered through the empty hall and into the library. The book was lying on the chair I had been sitting in, just where I’d left it.

I sat down comfortably and opened the book. I wasn’t going to read everything, so I just scanned through quickly, reading the poems’ titles and authors. In the middle of the book, one author’s name caught my eye.

Charlotte Mew. Could this be the same Charlotte as the one I had living with me? No. By the dates of birth and death, Charlotte Mew had lived to be almost sixty. They were not the same person.

However, the name might have caught her attention. After closer inspection, I saw that the bottom corner of the page was folded in. I thought this might’ve happened when she dropped the book, so I read the poem.

It was a beautiful poem, but I couldn’t see what was so special about it. And why couldn’t she tell me? Why did she have to go to Celia about it? I felt jealous. I wanted her to trust me more than Celia. After all, wasn’t I the one who found her, let her drink my own blood countless times, cared for her, and told her everything?

I didn’t know what to do next. I was stuck, and my search had come to a dead end. I decided I would go check my emails. I probably hadn’t checked them in six months. I trudged up the stairs to the computer. Before sitting in the chair, I looked at the couch.

I remembered waking up and being truly comfortable. Chewing on my lip, I wondered why. Why did Charlotte keep my nightmares away? I knew the answer. She kept me from being swallowed up by that black monster, the one that squeezed my gut and made me feel lonely.

I shook the confusion from my mind and turned on the computer. When I opened up my emails, a voice from the computer said, “You’ve got mail.”

“Holy shit,” I mumbled under my breath. I sure did have mail. I had hundreds of messages. Most of them were from stores, declaring sales and giving away coupons, I’m sure. But the newest email, received the day before, caught my attention immediately.

It was from Officer Philip Hardy, the man in charge of the police in the part of the city I hunted in. I opened it right away, curious about what he needed to tell me. He was usually deathly afraid of me, so I figured it was important. I read the email.

I found your letter, it said briefly. You know very well I couldn’t pass your sympathies on to the woman’s family, but I passed on mine. I would’ve left it at that, but I noticed you said “we.” Are there more of your kind that have chosen to behave as you do? Let me know if you need anything.

I smiled. He’s gotten the note I left in the dead woman’s hand the first time Charlotte and I went hunting. His last statement amused me. Why would I need anything from him?

I stopped breathing. On second though, I could take advantage of the fear he felt towards me. Instead of ignoring his email, I decided to reply and ask for a daring favor.

Thank you, I typed. There is another vampire sharing my hunting habits now. I didn’t change her myself, I found her. It’s a little bit hard to explain, but let’s just say she’s much older than I am in years, physically younger than I am, and she’s new to being a vampire. Since you offered, I do need something, actually. Would it be possible to email me all records of women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty who died, were killed, or went missing between 1920-1960? That would be helpful.

I clicked send. This would be the best way to figure out who Charlotte was. As long as Officer Hardy feared me enough to break the rules and send me confidential files, it shouldn’t be too hard to discover Charlotte’s true identity.

I couldn’t concentrate while I went through the rest of my emails. I deleted most of them before even opening them. I didn’t have to wait long for Officer Hardy’s answer. It came within half an hour.

It wasn’t exactly an answer. It was just an email telling me there were a lot of people that fit my description and asking me for more details about the person I was looking for.

I answered quickly, telling him the woman should have blonde hair, have grey eyes, and have the first name of Charlotte. I figures that would narrow it down considerably.

When he finally emailed me back the appropriate files, there were only about thirty people that fit my description. I eagerly looked at the first one.

This woman had been born in 1925 and had been murdered in 1952. Charlotte Williams. Although she was the right age, her picture didn’t look anything like my Charlotte.

The next ten files were similarly disappointing. I began to wonder if this was even worth looking. However, the next file was much more satisfying.

Charlotte White. Born in 1919, went missing in 1946, 63 years ago. She had been twenty-seven years old. Not only that, but the picture was unbelievable. Charlotte White definitely hadn’t changed in the past 63 years. She’d been turned into a vampire. The file said no remains had been found. It was wrong. I had found them.

Before I could read further, I felt Charlotte and Celia coming closer. I ran down the steps to wait for her. I greeted her, hugging her excitedly and telling her, “I have something to show you.”