To Be Mortal

The next day I still hadn’t been sated. It had been four days and I was started to feel some of the effects. I couldn’t stop my eyes from flashing with red and I had to resist the urges to… well… try and smash everything in sight.

So, okay, for the fact I looked to be only about twenty years old, I was pretty old. However in immortal standards, I was probably the equivalent to a young child. Just because of my reputation people expected me to have such great control over my abilities, but the truth was… well I really had to fake a lot of my agitation.

Humans had no understanding of what pain vam… well people like me went through when they were being starved. We described it as hunger but there was so much more than that; anger, stress, jealousy and a hot fire that burned within your skin and made it crawl and itch. You begin to forget who you are until you become nothing more than a mindless animal, looking for the next kill. I hadn’t been like that so much before because I was so weak, but now I was nearly healed I could feel it much more potently.

I heard the door open and my fingernails dug into the bed as the scent of human blood washed onto me. Like the feeling of tears coming to eyes I could feel their icy blue turn to deep, blood red. I shut them tight and tried to relax.

“Hallucinations started yet?” a voice asked at the door.

I was panting and I shook my head, “Hardly, unless you’re not really there; then I’m screwed.”

I heard Dr. Dubois chuckle and he tossed something to me, “It is only O positive, but it’ll have to do.” I moved my hand and felt a blood packet. I grinned and ripped open the end, it only took about 30 seconds to finish it; it was barely even half full; but I could deal. It wasn’t just blood, but it was human blood.

“Just because my kind doesn’t have three square meals a day doesn’t mean we can go a week with no food.”

“I am very well educated on the feeding habits of vampires, Miss. Lynn.”

“And why must you call me that? Jesus, not even my commanding officers called me that.”

“And what else would you have me call you?”

“Ava, for starters, or if you really want to be formal Avianna works fine too.”

“Fine, then, Avianna.” He opened his suitcase and took out some files with his clipboard.

“...You know the amount of information you have on me is actually quite disturbing.”

“The amount of my peers you’ve killed is actually quite disturbing.”

I smirked, “Ah, touché!”

“So, as I was about to say, I’d like you to tell me about Halloween 2013.”

“The 30th or the 31st?” I asked.

“How about both?”

“Right, so, back to it?”

“Back to it.”



In the autumn of 2013 I turned seventeen, and continued to live in despair with my father and never tried to run again.

In school things got bad. I mean, I had never liked school much but… when they said kids could be ‘cruel’ they obviously never met my classmates. I dropped out in my last year of school; I’d never need it. I could never afford college or university or…

My dad was spending more time in work now, or that’s what it felt like. It was getting late and he hadn’t gotten home. Thank god. I sat on my bed, running my fingers through my hair. I had been thinking over this forever, but fear kept me locked to the spot.

I needed to get out, even now; I was nursing wounds from the other day and my hand was wrapped up from a burn on the stove. I had been trying to cook some Kraft dinner when my dad had called me for another beer. While I was getting it the pot steamed over and foam sizzled on the hot metal. He didn’t like that much, so noodles weren’t the only thing that got cooked that night.

I slowly rose from my bed, my body shaking madly. Memories of the last time I tried to run haunted me every day; but… I was older now. I had to stop hesitating, I had to just go.

I grabbed my coat and… stopped. Okay, I admit, I had promised not to hesitate, but I didn’t have much choice. I ran to my father’s room and tore open the sock drawer. I knew it had to be somewhere, but I had so little time. I must have been insane.

It took me fifteen minutes until I found it in his bedside table. A wad of money, I had no idea how much, but I knew I needed it.

I took to the streets, not daring to stop until I reached somewhere safe. Where could that be? I had no idea but I had to leave; now. I mean; it was now or never. It was my birthday, the night my mother died, October 30th… Devil’s night.



A day came and went, the sun was setting and I was sitting at a diner. I hadn’t had a chance to rest yet, I was too afraid to find a motel or something in case someone saw my age and called my father.

I finished my food and left some money on the table to pay, walking out without talking to anyone. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t stop. I can’t stop moving, never ever. I walked past an alleyway and felt someone grab my arm and pull me in. I went to scream but a hand covered my mouth. “What a pretty girl.” Someone whispered in my ear, “Unfortunately, I need to take that.” I felt a hand reach into my pocket and grab the leftover money I had.

I writhed and finally was able to scream, “No! I need that!” I shrieked and he threw my back. I stumbled onto my knees and the thief ran off. “Stop! Stop!”

I chased him, but I stumbled. I landed on my knees and watched him run off with the last hope I had. Tears fell down my face and I sobbed, I sobbed until my eyes went red and people looked at me strange.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” I swallowed hard and looked up, “What could have happened that would make you so unhappy?”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes clean. It was a man, a very attractive man. He had one of those half smiles that girls went gaga over and ruffled hair that glowed with a blonde shine. Light green eyes could be seen and they sparkled with something I couldn’t name; something beyond human.

“I… I lost it. It’s all I had!” I sobbed, “The money; he took my money. I have nothing else. Nowhere to stay, to go, to eat…”

He frowned… strangely but it looked like a frown, “Oh. Well, here, I can help.” He took my hand and helped me up, “I need some help back at home, I work… late. I’m looking for someone who can keep the place clean and…” he paused, “…prepare dinner; things like that. I have a room in my penthouse I can put you up in; I’ll be asleep most of the day and you can spend as much time as you like doing whatever you like to do. I can pay you happily.”

I stuttered, biting my lip. At the time it seemed too good to be true, but I was afraid. Would I be trapped like with my father? Forever encaged to do his bidding, endure his temper? I didn’t have a choice. I agreed and he took me home.

“Oh…” I asked, “What’s your name?”

He smirked, “Jeremy.”