Bliss and Bloodlust

Blood.

I was vaguely aware that my middle was soaked with blood. My blood. And I felt like I was on fire from the inside out.

I was lying on my back on the cold dirt floor of the woods near my home. My shaky hands went to my stomach as the wetness spread. I groaned in pain and was too scared to move. Tears blurred my vision as a gentle breeze swept through and blew my hair into my face. There was a sudden chill that I believe had nothing to do with the weather and didn't sit well with the heat coursing through my body. I shut my tear-filled eyes.

When I opened them again the moon was in a slight different position, as were the stars. And someone was above me. It was too dark to make out their face and I was hurting too bad to be scared. The person knelled down, staring down at me. Perhaps I was hallucinating.

My eyes fluttered close as I blacked out again.

My bloody shirt was pulled up to my chest when I woke. I winced as I felt something enter the wound on my stomach. Something painful.

I cried out. Later on when I thought back I realized it was a finger. The finger dug in and pulled and pulled. My back arched and something, or rather someone, gripped my hips, holding me in place. The finger was gone only to be replaced by something that tugged painfully at my wound. I screamed and screamed as the pain increased. Then I was out again.

When I came to the fire that had been burning inside was dying out and something more pleasurable took it's place, something euphoric. The hands on my hips were holding my skin roughly, as something wet and cool touched my skin. The wet and cool thing was gone briefly then touched my skin again.

My eyes flew up to the heavens. I wasn't sure what was happening, maybe it was the feeling you get before you died, a slight bit of happiness to help you forget the pain. I was going to die underneath my favourite willow tree, in the cool darkness of a spring night.

But it didn't matter when everything else seemed so important to me now. The leaves on the trees, the dirt beneath my body, the sound of the insects chirping, the full moon and twinkling stars above me. I thought briefly of my family, my friends, my life and all the things I'd never see again. I closed my eyes and waited... waited for my death to come. I felt myself slipping away.

“Breath.” someone whispered in the darkness. I opened my eyes to slits and saw the silhouette of a person in the moonlight. “Breath.” the voice repeated. “Breath, goddamn it.” I sucked in a painful breath. “That a girl.” the person said again.

I took in another gulp of air, my lungs burning. The person, a man, my mind told me, it was a man, lifted my head off the ground until it was resting on his lap. I felt movement above me.

“Open your mouth.” he told me and I slowly did as he said.

He placed his wrist by my mouth. It was wet. I tried to turn my face away but it hurt and my head swam. Plus the man used his other hand to hold me still. I raised my hands and tried to push him away with what little strength I had left in my weak body, which wasn't much.

“Drink, or you will die.” he commanded darkly and I obeyed

It slid down my throat slowly. The blood, even in my state of mind I realized what it was right away, tasted both sweet and metallic. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant taste and I drank slowly at first then I clung to his wrist like it were my lifeline. I drank until he pried my mouth off of his wrist. I laid my head back on his lap and shut my tired eyes. I only wanted to sleep now.

He wiped my mouth clean and I opened my eyes slowly. He lifted me up swiftly in his arms, I let out a mangled cry of pain. He didn't seem to notice as he carried my out of the wood. I must have blacked out again because in what seemed like a second later we stood outside my backdoor.

I didn't get a good look at him until he lied my down on the back porch.

He was tall, lean and his skin seemed to have a pale glow. I wasn't sure if he was real or an illusion. He bend down until I could make out the features of his face. His short hair looked dark but it could have been blonde, I wasn't sure. His lips were thin, and his eye were dark as well, unnaturally dark, but I only registered that later on.

What a lovely thing to gaze upon before one dies, my mind spoke to me as he stared into my eyes. And he was a sight to behold.

“You're not going to die.” he said as if he had read my thoughts.

Once he began talking I noticed one thing. He had fangs.

He was a hallucination, I told myself, no one had fangs. Except for vampires. My mind must be playing tricks on me, for sure. Blood lost can do that to you.

“Are you death?” I asked in a whisper.

He smiled slightly. “Some have thought of me as such.” was his strange reply. “You need to invite me in.” he said matter of factly after a long minute in which he only stared down at me, his face pale in the light. He dug in my pocket and fetched out my keys.

“What?” I asked. He repeated his words twice, by which time he had the door open, before I asked, “Why?”

“You just do. Please.” he picked me up, gentler this time.

After a pregnant pause I whispered, “Come in.” in a low voice.

And with that he flew in the kitchen, pass the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom. I felt dizzy again and that was the last thing I remembered before darkness took me under again.

I was confused as I woke up in my bed, covers to my neck, nice and dry and sore as hell. I suddenly started to shiver then I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

The lamp beside my bed held a dim light. I turned my head, my vision blurry and it took a moment to focus and then I saw the handsome face of a man who looked vaguely familiar. He was wiping my face with damp towel. His red blonde hair stuck up a bit at the top of his head. His eyes were a dark blue.

“Am I alive?” I muttered hoarsely.

“Glad to see you coming around.” he said instead of answering my question.

“Who are you?” I asked softly, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

He smiled faintly. “I'm Daniel.” he answered. “And you are?”

Good question. It took a minute or two to answer. “Tourie.” I said, out of breath and still feeling weak but slightly better.

“Tourie.” he said slowly as if trying out the name on his tongue. “Pleasure to meet you.” I nodded slightly then I tried to lift up but my head began to swim. “Not too fast, you're still healing." I laid back down. “How do you feel?”

“I'm not sure.” I couldn't remember a lot, it seemed like a blur, but I knew I had been in danger.

“Well the hard parts over.” he assured me then smiled widely.

His teeth were pointed. I really didn't know what to think. Vampire! my mind screamed but it was only in the background of my thoughts. I must have looked terrified because he stopped smiling.

“I'm sorry. I'm not gonna hurt you, it's just a reaction to the blood.” He said all matter of factly and continued to clean my face.

“I'm dreaming.” I murmured.

“Nope.”

“Then I really must be dead.”

“Sorry, but no, you're very much alive and on the mend.”

“What are you?” I ask because even in my foggy state I knew he was far from human. “Are you a hallucination?”

“You won't believe me if I told you.” He laughed.

“Try me.” I said breathlessly a minute later.

“A leech, a blood sucker, a creature of the night, a demon, your worse nightmare. Does that suffice?” He smiled that fangy smile again. “Do you believe me?”

In a night full of craziness, it wasn't hard to believe. I figured I'd better just go along with it. I tried to laugh but my voice sounded small and it hurt and I started coughing. When he was done cleaning me up he threw the wash rag away along with what looked like my clothes.

“Hey!” I exclaim in my loudest voice, which wasn't as loud as I'd hoped.

“They're covered in blood and dirt, plus your shirt had a hole in it.” He held it up for me to see.

It had been a favourite of mine, now it hardly resemble clothing at all. It was almost entirely covered in blood. When I don't protest he dropped them in the trash and tied the bag up tightly.

“I'll be sure to get rid of them later. Now,” he said, “Would you care to tell me who shot you. I could smell their scent when I reached you.”

”You could what?” I asked because I'm not sure if I heard correctly.

“Smell them.” he said, “I have heightened sense of smell, but that's besides the point. Who shot you?”

After a moment I answered. “Long story.”

He smiled as he sat on the side of my bed and brushed my hair back. “I've got time.”