An Introvert with Fangs

I'm probably the lamest excuse for a vampire that has ever existed. Let me tell you something before you drive it through your head that being a vampire is a great gift of speed, beauty, and power; it's nothing like you think it is. I didn't become beautiful after my neck was torn open and my blood was feasted on. I merely got so pale that it is almost corpse like; I still have freckles, my eyes are still green, and my hair is still uneven in the back where the hair cutter lady hadn't been paying attention. I was stronger, sure, and I was faster, but not a whole lot changed. The only thing that really changed was my appetite. Blood just sounded really delicious all the time, like a voice constantly whispered 'blood' in my ears.

Another reason that I'm the lamest undead being in the universe is probably because I've been a vampire for a whole six months by now and I haven't killed a single person. I know that since I'm a vampire turned and left on his own, I should have been overwhelmed by bloodlust - and I was - and went on a killing streak trying to fill my unquenchable thirst for sustenance. That's pretty much all bullshit. I was so hungry that it was physically painful, but I still had free will and self-control. I knew that if I didn't eat that I would die, but I could still control myself. Perhaps that was because I'd read a lot of literature to know the position I was in and how to act. Maybe I was just rational even after death.

But I was hungry. It was as if my stomach were so empty that the bottom would fracture and break, rupturing all of my internal organs and killing me for a second time. I could feel an ache in my mouth that was the most terrifying thing I have ever felt. My gums felt like they were on fire and sure enough, my canine teeth were pushed from my mouth as long, sharp fangs rapidly grew in. I remember splitting the teeth into my hand with a pool of my own black blood. My other teeth grew and shaped themselves as well, though they weren't pushed out. They became sharper, but not too sharp; just enough to grip and tear my prey.

As I rose from my dumpster burial ground, the hunger became unbearable. Memories from my childhood when I'd scrape my skin and I'd lick the blood off my wounds felt similar to wet dreams; orgasmic and beautiful. I need blood and I needed it now. My ears strained for the nearest being and I closed in on a sound. A set of feet and a beating heart was moving my way.

Soon enough, a co-worker of mine strolled into the dumpster area. She was a schoolmate of mine named Wendy. She had dirty red hair and her eyes were the slightest shade of gray. She was a pretty girl, but she didn't like people; that's we got along so well. We weren't friends or anything, but we understood each other. She had a really nice smile, I thought.

"Seb? Where have you been? You didn't show up yesterday for your shift."

My stomach hurt but my heart began to cry out in more anguish. I didn't want to do this, but I had to. "You guys seriously didn't take out the trash? I was in here."

"In here? The dumpster?"

I didn't reply, but I slung one leg over the dumpster and then the other and then jumped down. She could see me now in the full light of the streetlamp. I must have looked a sight; my uniform torn and my eyes glinting the light, my face like winter snow and dried blood on my neck. My lip quivered and I felt like I was going to cry.

"Wendy... I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad," I whispered. She was in my arms in under four seconds. Another two seconds and my fangs dug into her neck. Her heart was racing, I could feel it, and it was pumping the blood straight into my mouth. It was the most incredible thing I'd ever had the privilege to taste. It was sweeter than any candy and more filling than any food. I drank slowly and in small amounts, trying very hard to control myself. I held her tenderly in my arms as I drank. She didn't cry or scream. I assumed she was in shock. I simply ran my fingers through her hair as I drank, and closed my eyes to blink away my tears of blood.

When I'd gotten my fill, I let the girl go. She stood easily enough but seemed dazed and dizzy. She was crying but she couldn't find any words to say to me. I remember praying to whatever deity was out there but I had to stop; the word God rang around in my head like the worst of migraines. I grabbed Wendy by the shoulders and I spoke to her in my shaking voice and hoped that compulsion or glamouring or whatever the hell you wanted to call was real.

"Wendy, please don't remember this. You are going to get in your car and go home. If people ask about your neck, say you got attacked by a rampant dog but it got away and you didn't know who it belonged to. Please sleep tight."

Wendy nodded and stood, leaving without a word. I took an unnecessary breath of relief. I grabbed the trash bag she'd been carrying and threw it in what had previously been my grave. I looked around and saw that it was just after sunset. It was night, but just barely. I found myself walking across the street and sneaking into the gas station's bathroom. I washed myself as best I could and then took off to the movie rental store. I rented Twilight, seasons one and two of both True Blood and The Vampire Diaries, as well as Interview with a Vampire. I had some analyzing to do.

I took my rentals home, snuck in through the back door, and slept in the spare room in the basement, only watching some of my new study materials before falling into a dead sleep.