Le Théâtre des Vampires

Vampire Letters

Part One

1.

There must have been at least seven people watching me when I was being born into darkness.

They thought I was dead.

I might have looked it, but I was somewhere in between life and death. The two crimson marks on my throat hadn’t gone unnoticed, but no one believed in the superstition.

Everyone thought I died of natural causes, because that is what the transformation did to you. It gave your body the appearance of death. The hospital bed was still warm, and so were the humans’ hands as they stroked my frozen flesh for the last time. I loathed it. That irritating feeling of warmth... It felt like fire against my cold skin; like dirt against a polished marble floor.

The place I wanted to be was cold. At the time, I knew not where that could be … whether it was in the darkness of man’s heart, or in the evil of a fellow friend. I knew nothing, save for my past.

Were my parents there when they were covering my frozen body? The bloodless girl was dead, I remembered the people saying.

After my body was buried, it was decided that I was dead. Everyone thought my soul had ascended to heaven. Maybe it did, but that would have to be my soul only, because my body stayed.

On the night I was buried, I later rose from my grave.

It sounds a little spooky, yes. But all I could think of were my parents, and maybe my sisters. But my parents were the ones who had brought me into this world. I thought…why is it that your parents bring you into the light, but don’t pull you out of it? Is this task always reserved for another?

I longed for someone to explain me my situation.

I was lost in a world of such darkness that I could barely even see myself.

As I rose from the ground, I brushed the skin that was now mine, and realized how cold it was. Yes, that’s what I wanted… the feeling of coldness was right on my fingertips.

I smiled, and then swiped the dirt from my body, for I had been obliged to break through my coffin, and dig my way up. I was back. But the world had changed from my last visit. Or… was it I who had changed? I still needed to be enlightened.

It felt like I was finally surfacing from deep waters. A certain weight was being lifted off my shoulders, and I could finally feel my physical body again. It was very light to carry.

I could finally breathe the chilling air of the night. That’s where I wanted to be, I thought.

But I suppose you would be more interested to know how it all began.

It was a dark day, yes, but only because the sun had already set.

Three friends and I had just gone to London, and something strange had taken us all. Save for one. Ella had been left at mercy by this… virus.

My first symptoms started showing on the night of our homecoming. I was just getting ready to go to bed, when all of a sudden, I started choking out blood. It hurt a great deal. I wished for it to pass.

Finally, I was assisted by my family, and they took it upon themselves to call an ambulance.

Back then, I thought I still had a chance to live. But that was then, and I didn’t know the evil of now.

When the ambulance arrived, the coughing ceased, but then I started shaking violently, and cold sweat ran down my feverish flesh perpetually.

There was hysteria in the air, and only my mother was permitted to assist me in the ambulance. The rest of my family was forced into taking the car, and tail-gated the truck all the way to the hospital.

It had seemed like hours until I was finally taken into a room, put in a bed, and hours until my random seizures ultimately perished.

My eyes opened to the darkness of the following night after being closed for many hours prior.

My mother was there; sitting on a padded chair beside my bed.

She had not yet fallen asleep.

“Mom…” I croaked. I was used to having a gravelly voice when I woke, but that was simply monstrous. However, I still didn’t consider death a possible end to my human existence.

“Oh!” she gasped, sitting up, “You’re awake!”

“Awake, but not very conscious,” I grinned.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she asked most humbly, without a single key in her voice revealing mirth.

“Yes,” said I, “Very much. How long have I been asleep?”

“A day,” she sighed.

Although her voice evoked patience, her eyes materialized agitation.

“Well…” I curled my lips in, “I hope I haven’t worried you too much.”

“Ah!” she gasped, “I must bring you some food before we further speak. You mustn’t utter a word until your belly is full.”

“Okay,” I shrugged, and let her drift away from my lonesome cubicle of a room. I looked up, and caught a glimpse of the corner of a small television set that hovered above my head.

It was then that my neck screamed pain. I gritted my teeth, and lowered it back into place. My fingers crept up to my long neck, and tried to feel out the source of the ache.

When they finally came upon it, it burnt like all of hell’s fires.

I moaned, and pressed my fingers against the rash with frightening force.

When my mother finally returned, I told her what had happened.

“This isn’t like fifth grade,” I breathed, “I won’t hide anything I should feel in the following days.”

“I’ll summon the nurse,” said she, readying herself to quit the room once again. “Just eat your food first.”

“I’ll eat it while you get her,” I asserted between bites of bread.

“No,” said she, seating herself at the same chair, “If I call her now, she will come and forbid you to eat any food until the doctor sees you again.”

“Fine,” I winced, realizing that the rash stung with improved intensity. I took a swig of my ice-cold juice.

“Your friends are here too, you know,” my mother said after a brief moment of silence as I shoveled the food into my gaping mouth.

I practically choked on my broccoli.

“Pardon?” I soon recovered.

“Yes,” she nodded indecisively, with a tremor in her voice, “They’re here; in this very hospital.”

“Now?” I frowned. I didn’t understand.

“Yes, now,” she sighed. “They seem to have gotten the same symptoms as you.”

“What!” I jumped. “I thought you meant that they were visiting.”

“Nay, in fact, they are ill, quite as ill as you,” she frowned. “A very strange illness, indeed. Very strange.”

“Don’t be frightened,” I shuddered, thinking of my own fear, slowly creeping up to my head. “It’ll be over soon, before you know it.”

“One of your friends…” she said morosely, “Asked me to give you a letter.”

“Have you talked to them?” I asked.

“Only to one,” she handed me the white envelope. It was very clean. As my fingers gently pulled the letter out of its white cloak, I wondered whom it could be from.

But before reading it, I looked up at my mother, and asked her who among my friends had been brought thither.

“It was Alexa and Claudia,” she asserted evenly. “They looked ghastly.”

“Oh,” I frowned, and finally set my eyes upon the cursive letters.

Samantha, the words began to flow, how strange is it that we both are ill with the same sickness in the same hospital? A suspicious thing… My seizures have finally ceased. And yours? Well, how are you feeling? I am not very well, I must admit. Not very well at all. Great loss of blood, constant seizures, and exceedingly high temperatures. I won’t even tell you how high my temperature had been last time the nurse checked it… okay, I confess. It was 200º. And guess what? I’m not even dead! My mom is hovering in my room like a helicopter, and there is no hope that I will get the room to myself. Hey, since we have the same illness, we should be put in the same room! You know, where we’d have two beds instead of one. Share a TV, maybe. Fun stuff. If anything, we could die together! Okay, let’s forget the latter part of my rant. This is worse than school, and NOTHING is worse than school. Good God, I’m starting to feel nauseous again, and sweat is dribbling down my face like a waterfall. I can’t write anymore. Please write back to me… I love you.

Hugs and kisses, Alexa.

“She doesn’t know Claudia’s here?” I frowned.

“What?” mom looked up.

“Nothing,” I blushed, ashamed of having thought aloud.

Instead of fixing my concerns on my personal health, I decided to respond to her letter. After all, she was my friend in need.

Lexie, I began, I got your letter. Well, obviously, I did… News of your being here truly started me, but the news I should give you now will start you more. Claudia is here too, with the same illness as we. The only person I did not hear of is Ella. I hope she is well, not like us… but you know, I can’t help thinking that this has something to do with our trip to London. You might not consider it like I do, but where else should we look for an answer? Certainly not here. Such a small town, I hardly understand how anything could have gotten us here. I have lost so much blood, you know, that they’ve stopped transferring donators’ blood into me. They call it a waste, because my body keeps on rejecting it… I think… at least, that’s what the practical think, and the pessimistic… there is a slight chance I could die. And you too. And Claudia! Oh, we must both write to her. Look, now. It has come to this. We can only communicate with each other through pen and paper. I don’t want it this way. I want to see you.

“Samantha?” my mother’s calm and soothing voice suddenly pulled my attention away from the letter I was writing.

“Yes?” I nodded.

“I have to go.” Her eyes seethed with remorse. She did not wish to leave me here. Not like this. But she had to. The real world was waiting for her.

“What time is it?” I asked, trying to keep her with me for as long as I could.

“It’s nearly four in the mourning,” she asserted worriedly. Mothers worry too much, and that is my opinion still. But she worried with good reason, because eternal life, in other words, death, was awaiting me, and possibly my fellow friends.

“Well,” I sighed, “I am still not tired. I mean, I may look it thanks to my obvious pallor, but don’t be fooled. I am not. Now go home without a single worry in your head. Please.” I pleaded with my eyes. “Just for me.”

“Well…” she bit her lip, “I’ll try.”

We exchanged smiles, and then she left, planting a soft kiss on my sweaty forehead.

The next morning, my thoughts were preoccupied by our trip to London. There was this nightclub we had gone to on our last day there… and we had danced. And another thing… I think we might have made out with a few men. Or boys. I cannot fix an age.

Since I was feeling somewhat better that day, and the doctor affirmed that I was gaining strength, he allowed me to pay Alexa a visit. I was escorted, of course.

The nurse was plump and smiling, definitely not a nuisance to my slow but effective pace.

When I finally reached my friend’s room, I saw her lying in bed with her eyes closed.

“Lexie,” I breathed, quickening my pace.

“Now, now, miss,” said the nurse, “We mustn’t be so rash in movement, or we might faint!”

“I won’t be fainting,” I shrugged, shuffling to the chair beside her bed.

Her mother was no longer in the room, and it was a relief to sit down.

“Are you awake?” I asked.

Her eyelids swung open. They were positively bloodshot.

“Sam,” she forced a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come here to bring you company,” I smiled back.

“But…” she winced, trying to sit up, “The blood loss…”

The plump nurse helped her up.

“It’s getting better,” I sighed, “I mean, I feel better, and I’m losing less blood, but things are still indefinite. As with you, I suppose.”

“I wrote to Claudia,” she asserted, reaching for a baby blue envelope on the bed side table. She handed it to me. “Read it. It’s her reply.”

“Okay,” I shrugged, and began reading it. It was as follows;

Oh my God!! Alexa! Lexie! Ally! Alex! What can I say? I’m speechless; I’m… the three of us… here. This is so weird. My mom only stayed with me for three hours, then left. You’re lucky you have a caring mother, I can tell you that much. I have to write to Sammy, I long to kiss you both! Or hug you, at least. We should thank the heavens that Ella hasn’t caught on!! It would suck if the smart one died, ha-ha. Not that you’re not smart, Lexie. You’re definitely smart in your own way. I don’t feel like describing my symptoms. They are an exact replica of yours, so I’d really rather not say anything. Listen… if we should die… let’s die happy. I know that my life hasn’t been that great over the past few years, and neither has yours. But we have to die with some dignity. I have to admit that I’m kind of scared… of dying, I mean. But we have to embrace it with less fear. You know what I did last night, after mom left my side? I summoned the nurse, and asked her to bring me a Bible. And I read half of it over night. Surprising, isn’t? I needed something to lift my hopes, and to help me understand life better. I still have doubts in God’s existence, but at least I tried to believe. He can’t send me to hell for that, can He? Well, do whatever you feel is right, whether it is praying, swearing, or singing. Just… don’t be afraid. Especially not for me. Don’t be egoistic, but be self-indulged for your last moments alive.

Much love, Claudia.

When I finished, Alexa burst into a fit of rage.

“She really thinks that we’re going to die!” she cried, “The insolence! We may be weak, but that certainly doesn’t mean that we will die! Oh! Shame on her! My best friend, too! Sam, help me convince her that we’re not dying. We’re too young to die.”

“Everyone has an excuse as to why they shouldn’t die,” I frowned, “But never one for why they should… Alexa, you have to calm down. You needn’t think the same way she does. So she’s engaging herself into religious beliefs. So what? You don’t need to, and I’m already a Roman Catholic. Just stay as you are. Do whatever you want to do. Do whatever will help you through this period of uncertainty.”

“Right,” she clinched her teeth, and looked down bitterly.

A moment of silence passed between the two of us until a new thought came to me.

“Alexa,” I frowned, lifting my hand to my neck. I stroked the flaming rash.

“Yeah?” she looked up.

“Do you… when we were making out with those guys,” I began shakily, draping my fingers over my rash. “Did they bite you in the neck?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she hissed.

“A hickey…Did they give you a hickey like mine?” I brushed the hair from my neck, and showed it to her. She was outwardly disgusted.

I can still see it in her arrestingly blue eyes, and in her inquisitive doll-face.

“I don’t know…” she wrinkled her small nose, trying to get a better view of the bite.

“Check,” I said, and she did so. She found it moments later, and it was on her neck; just like mine.

“So, what you’re saying is that the guys that bit us… must have been contaminated?”

“Exactly,” I shrugged.

“Well, then why are you telling me?” she started. “Go tell the Goddamn doctor!”

So I went.

But he was with another patient. So I ventured off to my room, and waited for him to check up on me. So much walking had sincerely tired me, even with the nurse by my side.

Finally, a half hour later, he came. And I told him my story. It was a little embarrassing, what with all the excessive mingling and… general kissing.

But he listened to everything I said with such placidity, and I was pleased to perceive that he hadn’t cracked a smile.

“Samantha,” he cleared his throat, making himself more comfortable in the chair. “I’m sorry, but I have never heard of anything like this before. There are one or two infections one can contract from a hickey, but you don’t have an infection. At first, we thought it was tuberculosis, but the blood wasn’t leaking from your lungs. It was, and still is, coming from elsewhere. It’s from random places in your body, and it’s different every time you bleed. It’s virtually inexplicable. And so are your seizures. We found absolutely nothing that could relate to them…”

He looked at me for a long moment, then said, “I’m so sorry, Samantha…”

I didn’t say anything. I was too shocked. I wasn’t sure whether I should think that I am dying, but I was too scared to ask him. “Your folks requested the presence of a priest, so he will be here sooner than death. You must be at peace.”

He quit the room after a few minutes, understanding that I wanted to be alone.

But I could not even find peace in solitude, something that one should cherish every once in a while. This was my once in a while, but I did not bask in it as much as privacy would have allowed me to. I hated to be alone; because I was scared of dying alone, with no one to hold my hand as I’d slowly slip away from this world.

For once in my life, I felt alive. I could feel every particle of my skin, I could hear every slowing heart beat, I could see every blink in my eyes, and I could taste the oxygen flowing into my lungs with appetite I never knew I had.

I closed my eyes, and further sunk under the sheets.

Tears dribbled from my eyes.

I was so alone.

Not even the thought of my family could save me from this hell. This amaranthine solitude.

“Would you like me to turn the TV on for you, dear?” the nurse asked with blatant warmth in her manner.

“No…” I fluttered my eyes open. “Just… could you…”

I could barely speak.

“Radio….” I muttered.

“Alright,” she beamed, “Anything for the young lady!”

I felt a sudden pang in my heart. I would die a young lady. I would never live up to be a lady. My rank would be eternal.

More tears dripped from my eyes.

The nurse preferred to ignore them. That’s it, then. I knew from that moment on, that everyone would be exceedingly nice to me.

And I hated it. I hated just about everything.

“There you go,” she put the black box into my lap, and retired from the room.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even swallow. There was a big lump in my throat, and I knew that if I tried overcoming it, it would burst, and I would weep hysterically.

I flicked through the FM channels.

Rap was too boisterous for my mood. It would crush any form of peace I still had in me.

Ditto rock.

Pop was too fake.

Beethoven was playing on a classical station. It was an opera, and I remember the way my heart sank when I heard it.

It was so intense… so dramatic. It met ideally with my feelings.

I lay there for a very long time, until I started choking again.

I was assisted by nurses, and no sooner was I put to sleep for a few hours. It was an estimate of how long it would take for the attacks to cease.

I woke up in the night.

But I was not alone. I thanked God my existence was still appreciated.

My entire family was there. They were staring down at me with worried eyes. I noted that my mother had been crying. The red circles around her eyes had given it away.

“Hey, guys…” I croaked. In the midst of my insanity, I wondered whether I would be a toad in my next life.

“Hey!” my little sister pounced on me, “How are you doing?”

“…fine,” I didn’t know what to say. Did they not know my fate?

My father cleared his throat, and Claire backed away immediately.

A tremendously overwhelming silence reigned over the small room.

“How come they let all of you in here?” I asked.

The question seemed to upset my mother, because she suddenly burst into another fit of tears. My father whispered something into her ear, and she quitted the room to console herself in the hallway.

“You’re not doing any better, are you?” Claire whined.

“Who told you that?” I breathed. Ignorance is bliss.

“I dunno…” she shrugged.

“Exactly,” I sighed, “Don’t be so negative.”

“They put you to sleep for five hours,” said Monica; my elder sister. “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

I remember her ways. Monica was a pessimist. A very cynical one to that.

“I asked for it,” I shrugged, “I couldn’t get any sleep after mom left.”

“Yeah, okay,” she chewed her gum. It smelt of watermelon.

“Can I have one?” I grinned.

“What?” she winced.

“A piece of gum,” my smile widened.

“Don’t give it to her,” said my dad.

“Why not?” I gasped.

“Because you were instructed only to eat hospital food,” he retorted.

“Very well,” I sighed. My gaze drifted to the door. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her quiet sobs.

She knew. Oh! She must have known all along. Even before I knew.

“Are you okay?” asked Monica.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re kind of crying,” she shrugged.

“And why aren’t you?” I sniffed, pulling the covers over my chin and lips.

“Well…” she didn’t know what to say.

“I’m dying, Mon,” I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to get it out into the open.

Her chin dipped. It quivered, and a tear oozed from her big brown eye. “I know…” she gulped.

“So don’t pretend it’s not happening, and be nice to me!” I cried. “Just be nice to me!”

“And you?” she didn’t look up. “You’re the one scolding me.”

“True,” I curled my lips in. “But with good reason.”

“There is no more room for reason,” she looked up, “I’m afraid we must talk and act upon our feelings in a situation like this one.”

She was so right, but I was itching to prove her wrong, no matter what she said. It was a sisterly instinct.

“Whatever,” I whispered, looking away.

“We love you very much,” my father wrapped my bony hand in his. It was so warm. I remember my love of warmth. But still, it was something I no longer possessed, even then. I was a stranger to it, because I had lost it what seemed so long ago.

I squeezed him back.

“As do I,” more tears bled from my eyes.

“Would you care to say goodbye to her?” asked a voice in the distance. At first, I thought it was in my head, but after my mother stepped into the room with a doctor at her side, the reality of it all struck me indisputably hard.

“What’s going on?” my father rose from his seat.

“I need to check up on her,” the flaxen-haired doctor replied evenly. “And… well, God only knows how long the young lady still has to live. You should say your goodbyes every time you part with her.”

“Very well…” said my father. I could tell that he wasn’t particularly happy with those words. Who would be?

“I will leave you to it,” he said with a mild lisp, as though something were stuck in his mouth.

“Samantha!” mom practically pounced on the bed. She was still crying.

“Whatever happens,” I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Cry yourself out. Crying is the only cure for such strong feelings. This is…”

I was starting to see double.

“This… is… for all of you… remember… only my physical body is giving up on you. But not my soul. The Holy Spirit is in it, and it will always be amidst your company.”

“Oh my God…” Claire was crying too. And so was everyone else.

“The priest has already paid his visit,” I forced a smile, desperate to comfort them. “And all is well.”

“No!” my mother cried. “All is not well. You will never be what you were so fixed on being. You will never join Green Peace, you will never fall madly in love with a respectable young man, you will never be a psychologist, you will never have your own family, you - ”

“Mom!” I gasped, “How could you say such things?”

“It’s just that…” her tears were soaking my sheets. “You’ll never be able to live up to your dreams and your expectations.”

“Oh, what does it matter,” I smiled, “When God and his Garden of Eden are waiting for me?”

She briefly considered this.

“That alone is the dream of every single person, mom! To live up to eternal life!”

“She’s right,” said my father with great difficulty, for his tears were nearly as strong as my mother’s.

“My throat is starting to ache,” I murmured.

“Tell me something else,” said she, caressing my feeble hand yearningly. “Before your capacity of speaking expires completely.”

“Okay…” I breathed, thinking hard. “Have sympathy for others as much as you have sympathy for the dear departed and me.”

I chose not to classify myself amidst the dead yet.

“But how?” she frowned. “There is a large barrier between the two. I mean, the living and the dead. I cannot have equal sympathy for a living student than I do for a dead student. It doesn’t work.”

She was a teacher, by the way.

“Then love with peace,” I smiled meekly. They were only words. I knew that they wouldn't be turned into actions.

“I will try,” she gulped, attempting a genuine smile. I looked into her dark eyes. Those were the eyes I had looked into from start to finish. And those were the eyes that had observed my progress in life from birth to… properly said; death.

They were so shattered upon seeing what they were seeing. Loosing the one thing that they had always kept in good view mustn’t be easy at all.

She gave me a warm embrace. The embrace was so different from the ones she had given me prior. I was no longer a teenager, or a young lady. I was her child; her infant child. She loved me as much as she did when I first came into this world.

And I was being pulled out of the light not by her, but by death itself. She was my creator, and Death was my destructor.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered hopefully. I didn’t want to let her go.

Next was my father.

“I wish it wasn’t like this,” he wiped a tear from his eye. “I wish… we could always be together to speak of the world and its fate. Speak of God… I will miss my finest candidate for meaningful conversation. I will.”

“Daddy,” my chin trembled, “You’re such a smart man. I’m glad you didn’t listen to those grade school teachers when they told you that you weren’t… doctor material, or whatever else they wanted you to become. You have spiritual wisdom, and in the end, that is all one needs. So please. You have mom, Claire, and Monica to talk to. That is more than a man could ask for. Three beautiful women at your side. And a cat. So don’t you cry too much for me, okay?”

“Okay…” he sighed, wrapping his burly arms around me protectively. How I would miss his loving embrace. He kissed me on both cheeks, and then left me to my two sisters.

“Guys,” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I see a future ahead of you. And I want you to live up to it. But amidst your success, in whatever form it may come, please take good care of mom and dad. They deserve it. After sixteen years of enduring me, I am wholly obliged to them, and will always be. So should you. Claire, you are only fourteen, but you still have a long life ahead of you. Even more the reason to be there for mom and dad. They have lived through half of their lives already, and the last thing on their list is to die knowing that their children are thankful for their sympathy and their love.

“This goes to you too, Mon. Be good. And for God’s sake, stop obsessing over your looks. I know I did when my life was still going at a normal pace, but this final experience has taught me something useful apart from breathing. Your life shouldn’t surface around you physical body. I mean… if you don’t like your nose, then your life will surface around it. But if you pay no mind to it, then maybe you will see more opportunities in the world all humans equally share.

“Such optimism is not your thing, I know. But when something life-threatening happens to you… a crisis, it’s funny how much your behavior changes. Your character stays the same, but your behavior would be on a whole different level. And why? Because your mind has been overwhelmed with something so intense and eye-opening that you start to see past the material world, and you develop a deeper appreciation for the spiritual world.

“Believe me… you’re lucky enough to have spiritual contact - if you do. Don’t be so cynical. It’s bad for you. You’re getting too involved in this abnormally perpetual cycle in which we all live in. Get out of it. Find a cure for…”

But I could not finish what I had intended to say.

I started choking again. Only this time, my heart was thumping slower and slower.

I groaned, trying to say goodbye, for I felt that this would be the end. My sisters kissed me, and so did my parents. Then, they were asked to leave the room.

“No…” I cawed.

More blood spurted out of my mouth. I was clutching my throat in agony. It was hell. Nothing could be worse.

The rash was pulsing fervently.

I twisted and twirled, I writhed and I wriggled.

And finally, the fair-haired man in white was at my side. He bent over me with alarming calmness.

“Save me…” I coughed hysterically.

“I must kill you first,” he breathed, taking my head in his hands. His nails were abnormally long for a man.

“No…” I struggled. “That makes…” cough, “No sense…”

“To you, it doesn’t,” his ice-blue eyes were inches away from mine. I was terrified. Was he really a doctor? He must have been, I thought. He was dressed in white, and he was touching me.

“It won’t hurt any more than it does now,” he reassured me. He still spoke with a faint lisp. I also detected a British accent.

“Okay…” a few crimson drops splattered across his pallid face.

He seemed spellbound, for he did not move. He only bore his eyes into mine.

“You must stop,” he stroked my flaming cheek with his index finger, but I could only feel the sharpness of his white nail “Or you will lose a dangerous amount of blood…”

I had no idea what he was talking about. To my knowledge, I had already lost enough blood to kill me.

“My child…” he pulled my hair out of my face. “I have finally found you. And you are not deceiving in any way!”

I had no strength to argue with this man.

“After three days, I have finally found you.”

I stopped wheezing for a moment, but I was still sweating like a man, and panting like a dog. The man produced a handkerchief from his large pocket, and sponged my face.

Although my mind told me to be afraid of this person, my heart told me otherwise. His presence was somewhat comforting, and he was mopping my forehead like a real doctor would.

I waited for him to update me on my health, but what came out of his mouth was not what I had expected.

“Be patient,” he advised, dabbing my cheeks intently. “You are my first creation. But I will not say much to you now, for you could forget some of the things I am telling you now when you wake from your slumber.”

The room had adapted a cold atmosphere; colder than anything I had ever felt.

I was starting to shiver violently.

It was only then that I realized there were no lights turned on in the room. It was meekly lit by a single strip of moonlight peeling from the sky and onto my floor.

“We’d better start, then,” he sighed, “Or the curiosity of your family members could be triggered.”

“Are you going to cure me?” I puffed.

“Maybe,” he grinned wolfishly, throwing the soaked handkerchief into the garbage bin.

He rose, and began pacing abound the room with his arms crossed behind his back.

“I have a choice …” he started. “I could let you die, or…”

He abruptly turned towards me. “Or, I could give you another life.”

I coughed. “Yes? Well, let me decide for you. Give me another chance. I want to live.”

“Oh, but you won’t be living,” he cocked an eyebrow. There was a hint of a smile in his lips.

“So I’m… going to die?” I winced.

“First, you will die!” he said theatrically, as though my life were a play. “Then, you will rise!”

“Rise?” I cocked my head sideways.

“Rise!” he affirmed with brash movements. “You will be just like me. You will live forever under my watch, and we should have much fun together. What say you, hm?”

“Live forever?” I frowned. “I may have…” cough, “Gone, uh, slightly insane, but… but what?”

“I like you,” he shrugged indifferently, “So I think I will settle upon my latter choice. Indeed!”

“Um…” I gulped, “Whatever.”

My chest heaved up and down at a notably slow tempo. My heart only beat every five seconds.

My life was slowing down.

Something had to be done, and I was desperate for that to happen. I wished for anything that could spare me from death.

“What’s your name, then?” I asked.

I needed to know for future reference. Besides, I was somewhat tired of calling him; the man. It’s a cynical thing, really, calling every male specimen a man.

“Lucius,” he replied, sitting on the side of my bed.

“You’re Samantha, yes?”

“Yes…” I nodded. I think I was drooling. Mind you, he was far from being my object of interest. The drooling was completely excused because of my tragic state of health.

“Lovely,” he took my head in his hands again, but this time, he stroked my rash.

“Ouch…” I protested.

He did not say anything. He only examined it.

During his examination, something dreadful was revealed to me. When he was leaning over, his mouth hung open, and I saw a pair of sparkling white fangs.

At the time, I had no knowledge of his true being. I simply assumed that he had very pointed teeth.

“This rash,” he moved away from it. “How did you get it?”

He took my wrist, and felt the pulse with his thumb.

“A nightclub,” I bit my lip. “I… made out with a guy. It’s a hickey, more properly said.”

“A hickey?” he snorted. “That’s what you came up with?”

His sneering character suddenly refreshed my memory, and I saw the blonde bloke that had been all over me at the English nightclub.

“It’s you…” I gasped, wriggling my wrist from his grasp.

“It is I,” he asserted boldly, taking hold of it again. “Your pulse is much more fluid in your wrists than it is in your neck.”

I couldn’t speak. He’s the one who was responsible for this… for this illness! My voice was too weak to let me scold him.

“Then, you know what’s wrong with me…?” I breathed.

“Exactly,” he chortled, wrapping both of his hands around my wrist.

I could tell that he was readying himself to do something.

However, I did not know the quality of his actions until he pulled my wrist to his lips, and punctured his fangs in.

“Uh,” I grunted, using my other hand to hit his head. For Christ’s sake! I had thought I’m dying as it is, why make it worse?

The sound of those fangs going in still haunts my mind.

It was like human teeth crunching an apple. I shuddered.

“Get… off…” I gasped for air.

He was sucking the living daylight out of me. I curled my body over his head; trying to suffocate him. The rush was so intense, that my feeble attempts of prying him off had gone unnoticed.

My former heart beat had suddenly quickened pace. There was a slight ringing in my ears. Then, I realized it wasn’t ringing. It was my heart pounding. The rapidity was increasing dramatically. I was going from a slow and painful death to a fast and sudden heart-attack.

I breathed heavily. Then, he finally retracted his fangs from my flesh. His head was pulled back, and he was breathing as heavily as I was.

He cracked his neck, and then looked straight at me. His mouth was contoured with blood. My blood.

I gripped my chest with my free hand.

It was going too fast.

Adrenaline was there too, running through my veins like an electric currant.

“Now…” he licked his lips, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Let’s on…”

He needed not pin me down to the bed, for I had already fallen on my back.

He climbed on top of me, and produced a dagger from the same pocket his handkerchief had emerged from a few minutes prior.

With the knife, he made a gash across his wrist, and then held it over my mouth.

“Drink,” he prompted. His blood dribbled from his wrist like dainty rain drops would on a warm summer day. It was so pure… so sweet. It was like ecstasy.

I was suddenly filled with such a thirst; such a yearning for blood. My lips quivered as they neared the wound. I pulled it closer, and finally, my teeth met with the dark gap.

I remember moaning as my appetite became acquainted with the sweetness of blood.

This time, I heard both my heart and Lucius’ beating in unison.

It pumped my adrenaline.

I sucked on the rip with improved hunger. Thump. Every gulp brought me closer to what I was destined to become. Thump. A merciless killer… thump…a heartless cut-throat.

“That’s enough…” he hissed. But I didn’t let go. I wanted to suck him dry. To rid myself of that wretched heart beat. I wanted the pleasure of knowing that he was dead.

“I said that’s enough!” he finally managed to part his wrist from my lips. The heart beat was slowing, but it was still present.

“I want more…” I heaved.

“Lie down,” he pinned me down to the soft mattress.

“More!” I cried.

“You’ll get some more after we’re through with this,” he gulped, glaring at the door. Someone was knocking.

“Just calm down,” he stroked my cheek.

His fingers weren’t as cold as they had been the first time he had touched me.

But I couldn’t calm down.

I was coughing more than I had when I was presumed to be dying, and I was perspiring more than I had when my temperature had been rendered abnormally high.

I struggled with him. He wouldn’t let go of me. I writhed as though I was having a spasm attack.

“It’ll be over soon,” he comforted me with blank emotion.

The words failed to sink in.

“Ah!” I cried.

The door swung open. He wiped the blood from his lips.

“Dr. Clement!” a nurse barged in louder than required. My family joined. They all smelt like human flesh. I wanted them. I wanted them all. And I wasn’t able to restrain the growing demon in me.

“Would you please climb off of the bed, Dr. Clement?” the nurse helped him down.

My mother took my hand in hers, and lavished it with kisses.

“I love you,” she said continuously, taking no notice of the flaming red mark on the wrist she was caressing.

I couldn’t utter a single word.

I was still twitching in agony.

“I tried to stop it,” said ‘Dr. Clement’.

“It’s okay,” said my mother, thankful for nothing I see is worth thanking him for.

I let out a groan, jerked my legs a few times, and then stopped.

My mother gasped.

I was still breathing, but there was no more hope for my recovery.

My tongue swiped half of the blood around my lips. It was as saccharine as it had been the first time had I tasted it.

I can’t remember much after this, but here is what Lucius told me.

The room quieted after my spasms had finally stopped. It was a deathly silence, for my human body had finally died.

My mother let out a sickening gasp as soon as she grasped the information. Her head drooped onto my limb, and she wept endlessly.

The nurse quitted the room, but Lucius stayed for a few more minutes to witness the rest of the transformation.

He hadn’t been deceived.

Just as suddenly as my family members’ heads tipped down in unison, my hair mutated from its previous state. It went from wet and sweaty to dry and curly. The locks formed quickly, and adapted a surreal gloss.

Next were my cheeks. They shrunk to fit the hollows of my bones. My eyelashes grew longer and darker, and my nose lost its bump. I later asked Lucius why it was so. He told me why. It was because he had intended me to look like that. He had done this. He had designed this new look for me when giving his blood to me.

My parents had been mildly shocked, and my father only said one thing…

“My daughter has often stressed over her hair, and this is when it looks its finest…”

Oh, daddy. I do love you still. My heart hasn’t grown that cold. I can still feel human emotions as well as I did when I wasn’t this… beast. This monstrous creature from hell…