The Soul Unto Itself

The overpowering stench of blood and metal roused me from an unconciousness I couldn’t remember entering. I became aware of myself and surroundings immediately; I lay sprawled across a metal floor of a metal room not much bigger than a closet. Something tight clamped around both of my wrists and ankles. All this I knew by a mentality and smells. Upon opening my eyes I found metal shackles on my wrists, the chains ripped in half, yanked from the ceiling. My ankles bore shackles as well, still intact to the bolted plates on the floor. The walls were splattered with my own sticky drying blood, which also sat in stale pools on the small floor; my milky flesh smeared in liquid as well. Sitting up to better survey my prison and physical state caused something sticky to collapse around my shoulders and back. Reaching for it, I found my mid-back length hair drenched in blood. I questioned its appearance, it seemed different, but right. Then I realized I didn’t know how my hair was supposed to be; worse, I couldn’t recall a single thing about myself. That didn’t concern me nearly as much as the fact that I was chained up and surrounded by my own blood. My whole body tense in defense.
Before I could further check myself for injury, I was instinctually thrown into a defensive crouch on my haunches as the door to my prison unlocked with a loud clank; forcing an animalistic snarl from my throat, baring my fangs. Fangs? I shoved away the confusion, preparing for attack.
The door swung open heavily to reveal a petite girl of about 5’4”, twenty three years in age with short choppy ebony hair. Her make up was thick and dark like her clothes, black jeans and a crimson blouse. Her hazel eyes darted around the room almost apathetic to the gorey scene. There was an uncanny familiarity about her that I couldn’t shake, but I knew her from no where. Her eyes finally locked with mine, sizing me up.

“You don’t remember a thing, do you?” The girl asked, her voice melodic and knowing.
I shook my head slowly, warily.
The girl nodded with a sigh, and disappeared from the door way a moment, reappearing with a wine bottle and a crimson robe.
“Put this on, grab the bottle and come into the living room. I’ll give you what answers I can.” She stated authoratively, but weary.
I glanced from her to my shackles than back to her, words unwilling to form.
“Oh, of course.” She muttered, pressing a button on the wall, causing my bonds to unclamp, releasing me. She walked away, leaving me in the cell.
As I stood to walk over to the bottle and robe, I noticed for the first time my nakedness. What is going on? What happened to me? I shrugged on the robe, grabbing the bottle and made my way to the living room. As I walked through the dilapidated cabin, I uncorked the bottle with ease –blood. The smell was overwhelming; thirst –hunger- consumed me as I put the bottle to my lips, turning the bottom up instinctually. The blood tasted strange, wrong, though I knew now how or why. But I continued to drink as I found my way through the cabin, the darkness of the recently set sun barely hindering my eyesight. I found the girl sitting on a decaying couch, waiting for me. I sat opposite her.

“Finish the bottle, then we’ll talk.” She commanded, softly.
I did as told, unsure of what else I could, should do.
As the bottle emptied, my mind filled. The knowledge made no sense, but I knew it to be true; my name first off is Elyrica. I am not human, and all of this is wrong. I looked at the girl, waiting.
“Okay, my name is Lillith, and I need you to listen to me carefully, and trust me.” She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child.
I nodded my head, weary.
“Last night,” Lillith started, “You went to a frat party, got trashed, you went home with a man, slept with him, where he then bit you, drained you, forced you to feed from him, and he abandoned you in that cell during your transformation. You’re no longer human, Lilly.” She explained, I have no recollection of any of this , but I do know my name to be Elyrica, not Lilly.
“My name is Elyrica. Why should I believe you? I have no memory of what you claim. You don’t even know my name.” I scoffed.
“Your Nom de Vita is Lilly. Forgive me, I was unaware of your Nom de muerte.” Lillith apologized sincerely, then reached beside the couch, pulling another wine bottle. “Drink more, and you’ll understand.” She handed me the bottle.
I reluctantly took the bottle from her –more blood- and chugged the stale tasting fluid. As the bottle emptied, it all fell into place;

~I was trashed out of my mind, seeing colors and lights, drunk and stoned. My new group of ‘friends’ brought me to this frat party. The super hott guy I’d spotted at the beginning had made his way over to me, flirting. Smooth, I thought, his words and movements so fluid and eloquent. His features were a mere blur, but his suave words eventually convinced me to leave with him; I have no memory of how we got to his place. In firey need, I couldn’t tell if my clothes were torn off by haste or intoxication, I remember being disappointed as he tore my favorite shirt. He was inside me so fast, hard, painful. His kisses eventually reached my neck, where in the throes of animalistic passion, I barely noticed his teeth –fangs- tear into my neck. The thrusts slowed as be began to drain me of my blood.
Drunk, I thought, I’m too drunk for this. Then, just as I could feel death a few mere swallows away, he pulled back shifting too quick to recognize, placing me on his lap. “You’re on death’s door step,” he brushed a stray lock of hair of my hair out of my eyes. “Take eternal life and feed my child.” His words bounced around my intoxicated head as he pulled a knife, slicing open his own neck. Drunk, I stared a moment as the crimson fluid flowed onto the bed, mesmerized. I didn’t notice the distance between us closing until my mouth latched around the wound, and I began to drink like a newborn to mother’s milk. I swallowed almost instinctually; ice, his blood tasted of ice and death. It was sobering, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t stop. The blood flowed willingly into my mouth, but it wasn’t enough; I began to suck –forcing more liquid onto my mouth faster. I could feel the strength returning to my body and mind, now clear of alcohol and drugs. Gripping the man’s shoulders, I planted myself firmly astride him. Pushing him deep inside me, taking as much blood and pleasure possible.
“Lilly,” He attempted to pull me off but I was leached on, the name barely phasing me. “That’s enough.” He finally tore me from his neck, once again flipping positions. I cocked my head to the side as I watched his wound heal, a new drunkenness about me; drunk with power. The man locked his ice blue gaze with mine –our craving and lust evident, filled with fast full deep thrusts. As my body began to climax with the man’s, he whispered one velvety word, a name; “Elyrica” just as I blacked out.
I awoke screaming; banshee screeches.~

I focused back onto Lillith; she spoke the truth of that fatal night. Bewildered, I decided to trust her –what other choice did I have?
“How do you know this? Why are you here?” I demanded.
“I just do. I’m here to help guide you. But you must not mention me to those you meet, your kind do not look kindly upon me. But you need to trust me if you wish to survive.” Lillith warned.
“And what exactly is my kind?” I smarted.
“Vampire.” Lillith stated.
I wanted to roll my eyes. Vampires? Right. That’s the stuff of movies; but last night, the thirst, my fangs –they’re all very real. And it just felt… right.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because your Sire has abandoned you, and orphaned fledglings rarely survive on their own.”
The mention of my Sire caused me to notice the gut wrenching feeling in my stomach. A feeling of abandonment, loss, empty, betrayal.
“My Sire being gone, that’s why this all feels so wrong?” I whispered
“Yes.” Lillith’s eyes were apologetic. The confirmation made it hurt even more.
“This feeling is awful, where do I find my Sire?” I decided.
“I don’t know where he is, but you’ll find help and answers to the east, in New York City.” She seemed uncertain.
“Very well.” I rose to head to the door.
“Might I suggest a shower first?” Lillith looked me over.
I surveyed my blood smeared body, covered only by a thin robe.
“Yes, a shower.” I suppose society wouldn’t take kindly to this appearance.

The bathroom fir the cabin in its filth, but the water ran, though only cold. The conditions didn’t bother me much, a shower is needed and this is all I have. I scrubbed in the fridgid water that I barely felt till the stench of stale blood dissipated. Stepping out, I came face to face with a full length mirror. The reflection was foreign to me, but felt right, more so than the memory.
Long locks of crimson hair flowed to my mid back, glowing emerald green eyes, and skin white as ivory. My milky flesh covered toned sleek muscles, lean and fit with perfect curves; breasts, hips, an ass. Every movement as fluid as a feline’s. the thought of clothes hiding my perfection was almost an insult.
“Found some clothes.” Lillith’s sudden appearance tore me from my vanity.
I took the simple dirty white dress from her and slipped it on; a perfect fit. “It will do, thank you.” I said as I made my way back to the front door in the living room. I looked to Lillith.
“East. New York City. Good luck.” She said simply.
I nodded in thanks and exited the dilapidated cabin where I died and was reborn; set east to find my Sire.