When I came to my senses, I was sitting in an alleyway, and it was pitch black outside. I was freezing, and Jenny and Nilly were just laying there. Thinking they were dead, I scrambled toward them, trying to cry but unable to. Nilly began to stir, but Jenny just lay there, not moving, not breathing. I felt for her pulse, and there was none. She was stone-cold.
A dry sob broke through as I picked up Jenny and began rocking her back and forth. I still couldn't cry. I mean, I was trying to cry, but I simply had lost the ability. I just sat there cradling Jenny, when I seemed to see her blink. "It couldn't be," I thought as I felt for her pulse again. Still nothing, yet Jenny was moving on her own.
"Yeeeeaaah." Jenny whined. She didn't have a pulse anywhere I checked, yet Jenny was moving around and making noise, just like she was alive.
That's when I realized that I didn't have a pulse either. And Jenny and I were both stone-cold. Nilly, on the other hand, felt as warm as the time I accidently caught my hand on fire in a chemistry lab in fifth grade.
"Yeeeeaaah. Yeeeeeeeaaaaah!" Jenny whined again. That's when I noticed the crescent-shaped mark on Jenny's neck. I froze as what happened sunk in. Sure, I'd heard the myths about the dead people who rose up out of their graves like Jesus, but every night. The legends about the people who roamed around in the moonlight, feeding on the blood of the innocent living, but I'd never actually thought they were true.
I didn't know how. I didn't know why. But somehow, some way, Jenny and I were vampires.