Chapter 2

I should start when I died. Well. The first time I did. I don’t buy that ‘undead’ nonsense, I’m alive, a second life, screw that nonsense. Not like I’m all pale or smell like rotting fish. Screw that undead nonsense.

A young man, a year older than me, attending my college, is failing out of the engineering school. He wasn’t popular back in high school, that didn’t change when he got to college. That sort of thing never changes, what bullshit if they tell you that.

The professor’s don’t like him either, and don’t give him a break when he starts struggling. It breaks him down, he thought he knew his purpose, be smarter than everyone else, that’s what he had. Then he finds out he’s not, and, well, what’s his purpose then?

People called him a monster, a demon, a cruel and inhuman beast. I won’t defend him, because he was all those things, but it was us that made him that way.

I was just a freshman, second semester, when he knocked down the door of the Science and Engineering building with a 12-gauge’s blast. I didn’t have a purpose yet either. I didn’t know what I was doing, who I was. I just saw the death in his eyes, the blowback from a young girl’s neck being severed by scattershot, and thought this might be my purpose, to take one for the proverbial team.

I tackled him to the ground, and the next thing I know is what they tell me, a bullet hole through my skull and my brains against the wall.

I’d like to tell you someone else used the time I made to wrestle his guns away, stomp on his hands still his fingers cracked, that my death was the opening shot to closing him down. It would be nice if someone had run out the door in the time I made. If another life was saved. But no. They stood there, like deer in the headlights.

I remember thinking, “What’s the fucking point?”

“Are you ready to order?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks. I’ll just have a Sprite and some, um, what was it-“ I glance at the menu, “Oh, right, chef salad.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Oh, you know what? Wait a sec, you guys have rum and coke?”

“Yeah, sure. I think so, it should be on the menu.”

“Yeah, screw it; give me that instead of the sprite. Not like I’m driving, know what I mean?”

“Huh? Yeah. I guess so. Huh.”

“I’m sorry, but, I like your uniform.”

“Really? Thanks.”

“Usually, you know, places like this, not very nice, yours though, it works.”

“Yeah it does, huh? Kinda weird.”

“Yeah. Kinda. Had to squeeze you into that a bit though, huh?”

White was coming out of the bathroom. She was glaring at me. The waitress laughed and went to get my order. White’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“What the fuck was that? Were you seriously just flirting with that waitress?”

“I- Yeah. Sure.”

“What the fuck?! Chef salad!? You’re not going to eat that, are you? We just came in here so I could use the bathroom, and you had to go and fucking order?!”

“I’m hungry, alright?!”

“You can’t eat that-“

“I know. Ok? I know. I’m not going to. I’m going to chat that waitress up a bit more when she comes back with my salad, fuck her in the bathroom, and then drink some of her blood, ok? I’m fucking hungry! Is that alright with you?”

She stopped glaring and just looks very put-upon, “Fine. I’m waiting in the car. Hurry it the hell up.”

I did as I told White with very little variation. I was never much of a player back when I was alive, but undeath makes such things considerably easier, although, I still had to cover the girl’s hand with my mouth to keep her from screaming.

During the sex.

Not the blood drinking. They never scream during the blood sucking stuff.