My name is Ciel. I am just another normal guy. Just turned 19 (so I guess I can go to the bar if I go to Canada.) I like clothes, shopping, smelling nice, cooking, and gardening. I am short, and if you ask me about my weight I will always say that I have an "Average build" which really means that I could stand to loose about 30 pounds. My hair is dark brown, but I have always hated my hair color so I dye it constantly.
On Saturdays, I go and get my nails done with my co-workers Riley and Rose. I call it my "R&R with R&R." Rest and Relaxation with Riley and Rose.
I am a college student, but I've been studying at a junior college for the past three years and don't really feel like I'm getting anywhere. I'm not too worried about how long it takes me to graduate. All that matters is that I do, in fact graduate. On Friday nights, I might go to the movies. But just as likely I might be at home alone, doing nothing. I'm the kind of person that has two best friends, Landon and Jessie. If they're too busy for me, then I don't have plans.
Like any other teenager these days, my body is naturally attuned to the night time. I can work a 12 hour shift at the restaurant and have class for four hours on any given day, be tired to the bone on my way home and yet I still won't go to bed until three maybe four in the morning. And it's not because I'm busy studying either, like I would tell my parents when they harass me about being up too late (for them.) I'm just not tired until the sun comes up, even before...well, let's get to that later.
Of my two best friends, I am closer with Landon. I've known him for six years and we basically have a direct telepathic link into each others' minds. One of us thinks it, the other knows. Occasionally, we even experience the same neck pain at the same time; always on the right side for me, left for him. He's short, like me. Has a round face and ears that are just a bit too big for his face. He's eighteen and can grow facial hair now, so he always has this beard thing going on that's kind of awkward because some of the hairs are longer than others and it looks like his beard is trying to eat you. He always wears jeans and some sort of graphic tee, although he does like to break the mold once in a blue moon and will wear a button up with a tie and vest instead. Landon is impossibly straight, so naturally I have the world's largest crush on him. No way I would ever tell him that. He might never want to see me again. Or he might, I'm not sure. He is an incredibly accepting person and advocates for gay rights. But I think it's different when your best friend wants you romantically. Which leads me to my next topic of discussion.
I'm gay. Get over it. It doesn't define me. It doesn't effect the way I'm gonna treat you. It doesn't mean that I want you if you have a penis. I'm not a predator (in this sense, at least.) and I'm not the kind of gay that coaxes straight drunk guys into exploring their "hidden desires" and taking advantage of them. It just means that I prefer a man's hold to a woman's and that man smell turns me on. No, not man cave smell, or even locker room smell (gross, use some lysol once in a while; and wash those socks...) but the smell of a freshly showered man. It's just better. More natural, more...raw.
Jessie, my other best friend has had a crush on me for years. I've known her for four of them and I'm pretty sure the crushing started as soon as she discovered that I'm gay. I believe she likes me for the same reason I like Landon. Because she can never have me. She's 16. Tall, thin and pretty with blond hair and a big brain. She's really dorky and funny, which is why we get along so well because I'm the same way. I have often thought of her as my little sister because her family took me in when I really needed someplace to live.
Basically, my friends and I are three vampires that all have unrequited feelings for one another. And yet, somehow, we manage to stay friends.
I know! Isn't it shocking? Landon has feelings for Jessie. She's the one girl that hasn't fallen for his tactics. We all want what we can't have.
Ah, yes. I bet you're curious about the whole vampire statement. Yes, we drink blood. Jesse and Landon drink A positive, but I have to drink O negative. A vampire can only drink blood types that they would've been able to receive via transfusion when they were human. Since my blood type was O negative when I was human, I can only drink O negative now. And let me tell you, it is delightful. I love the consistency, the color, the feeling of the vein throbbing against my fangs as surge after surge of heart pumped blood makes it's way into my mouth. It's enough to get a guy all hot and bothered. As humans, Jessie was an A positive and Landon was AB positive. Landon can drink anyone, but he prefers A positive so that he and Jessie can share. It's pathetic, really. If we drink blood from any type other than our own, our bodies will reject it. It would sustain us for a while, say a day or two, but we would need more much sooner than the month that a matching blood type can sustain us for. Also, blood doesn't taste as good the second time as it does the second, if you catch my drift.
Eventually, we must feed on a matching blood type or our bodies will fail and we will die. Prolonged consumption of a mismatched blood type means death to our kind. Our bodies last two, maybe three feedings with mismatched blood before bodily decomposition occurs. As an O negative, it's not really easy to get a good meal. But it also means that I am the strongest kind of vampire. A vampire's strength and abilities are determined not only by skills acquired as a human, but largely by the kind of blood we must drink. Since O negative is the pickiest blood type, it is the strongest. AB positive is the least picky, and therefore the least powerful. Although, a vampire that is AB positive can become stronger by choosing to feed on only one blood type, like Landon does. When a vampire does this, he can a similar strength level to that type of vampire. Not the same, but close. Of the three of us, I am the strongest, due to my blood type. My powers are vast and considerable, but I hate using them. Jessie is the second strongest as a natural A positive. Shes more loose with her powers, but uses them to... persuade certain humans into doing certain things. Mainly her. Landon likes his power the most, and comes in as the least powerful of the three of us, but only marginally as he is a determined A positive.
I know, I know. This is a lot to take in. How about I start at the beginning. With the night I was turned.
Chapter One
It was a day like any other. A Saturday. On Saturdays, Landon has work so I didn't get the chance to see him today and Jessie was busy with some school thing. So I went grocery shopping with my dad at too-early-in-the-morning-to be-awake o'clock and came home to promptly take a nap. After said nap, I drove my dad to one of his jam sessions, where he could play the drums and drink it up with the rest of his middle aged rock band buddies. I then came home and this is where things started to change for me.
I sat around bored for a good hour, debating on whether I should see if any of my friends were available to hang out. And by any of my friends, I of course mean Landon or Jessie. As it turns out, Landon was hanging out at Jessie's house, looking to get it in. She'd never allow it, but "I will kill you myself if you ruin my chances by coming over." Landon's exact text to me when I tried to see if I could hang too. I decided that a good shower was in order. I hooked up my speakers so that I could listen to music while taking a very hot shower, just the way I like it. The kind of shower that makes our skin pink and soft, and when you step out, the cold air of the bathroom beyond the shower curtain is a welcome and cool relief from the heat of the water. I was in a weird mood that night, and played only "Eyes on Fire" by Blue Foundation on repeat.
When I'm in the shower, I like to pretend that I'm like, a pop star, or sometimes I imagine myself giving an important presentation to famous people and then they all want to hire me to be big and important. It was strange, however that this particular shower, listening to this particular song, I imagined what it would be like to be a vampire. I imagined what kind of vampire I would be. Wondered if I would sparkle in the daylight. Wondered if I had it in me to kill mercilessly for my own survival. I heard (and felt) a loud BANG! Which startled me out of my intrinsic thoughts. I thought nothing of it, since we live in a duplex and the neighbors always are fighting, leading to yelling and loud bangs of this sort. It wasn't until later that I realized that it only happened once and there was no yelling, which was strange.
I got out of the shower as the hot water tank depleted, leaving me with less than hot water. I toweled myself off, and dressed in pajamas, ready to relax and play some video games or watch T.V. or something. I left the music on in my bathroom as I exited and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. I didn't notice her at first because all the lights were out in the house.
I made my way to the freezer and grabbed some pizza rolls (the official food of college kids that live at home.) and proceeded to cook them in the microwave. I made my way over to the cabinet to grab a glass for milk when she spoke and I noticed the dark shadow sitting at the dining room table for the first time.
"Well, you're quite possibly the most unobservant human I've ever met." I still couldn't see her, just a shadow in my dining room. I noticed for the first time that it was incredibly cold in my house. I had thought it was just the transition from hot shower to normal temperature house. Maybe that wasn't the case.
"How did you get in here?" I managed to sound brave, but I could tell it wouldn't convince this person, whoever she was. In my shock, I didn't even catch that she had called me human, as if she weren't.
She spoke from the darkness, and from her voice I could tell that she was smirking; as if she had just remembered some inside joke to which I wasn't privy.
"Oh, I just..." A long pause, maybe she was stifling a laugh. "Let myself in."
"Please leave. You're not welcome here and I do not take kindly to intruders." With my friends around, I use vary limited language, but when talking to people older than me or when I'm meeting someone new, I switch to vocabulary mode.
"Not likely...Ciel" the woman spoke from the shadows again. I wondered if she would ever let me see her, or if she planned on keeping to the dark throughout our whole interaction. I really wanted to turn the dining room light on, but the light switch was across the dining room. I would have to pass her in order to get to it and I could feel in my bones that that would be a bad idea, with a capitol "B." Besides, I was frozen in place, still standing there with the cupboard door open. I was even still reaching up into it as if I were honestly going to grab a glass still. Behind me, the microwave beeped, signaling that my pizza rolls were finished cooking. I brought my arm down (it was starting to hurt, holding it up that long) and turned to face the shadow.
"How do you know my name?" I asked, my voice turning rigid and defensive. The woman was silent for so long that I backed up slowly, not turning away from the direction of the dining room. I reached over and opened the microwave door, grabbing my plate of food but keeping my eyes trained on the dark shadow. If I concentrated, I could just make out the shape of a pair of legs crossed in the chair nearest me at the table. It was turned to the side to allow for the woman to sit in it but still face me. I'm gay and all but can I say: damn, those legs (or what I saw of them) were the sexiest legs I had ever half seen through dark shadow. I grabbed a pizza bite from the plate and ate it while still admiring those legs.
"It's all right here, honey." She finally said. I don't know if she was going for dramatic or cryptic, but I was getting bored. She seriously needed to leave so I could go watch my movie or something. "In your head, I mean to say."
"Look, if you're going to kill me, get on with it. Otherwise, I kindly invite you to leave so that I might enjoy my food and forever alone-ness." My tone had taken on a sarcastic edge, which probably surprised her, because I heard the chair screech as if someone were standing up and then she stepped forward so I could see her. Well, everything except for her face.
She was capitol "H" Hot. Like, Chris Pine fine. She was pale, tall and curvy. She wore a long red dress that hugged her curves and had a slit in it up to the hip, like that one woman in the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." In fact, she looked just like that cartoon character, right down to the red hair that I could see cascading over her shoulders. The only difference was that this woman had curly hair. Like, Irish dancer curly.
"I like you, little one. You're...plucky." She said the last word as if she found it to be the sexiest trait of all time. When she spoke, her voice was husky and seductive, like Marilyn Monroe. If she wanted to, she could turn me straight in no time flat.
"So you like to think about what it would be like to be a vampire?" She asked, clearly meaning it as a rhetorical question.
I heard the drawer next to me opening and too late realized that it was the woman opening it. I looked in the direction of the drawer, but she was already gone. How was she so fast? I couldn't even hear her move, which was saying something because the kitchen and dining room floors are linoleum and her stilettos were at least six inches tall.
The next thing I know, she was behind me. One of her (perfectly manicured) hands was grasping my face, stopping me from turning to look at her. The other held something cold and sharp against my neck.
"Then I'll show you." She crooned, her breath hot against my earlobe. I could feel the moisture of it and it was definitely turning me on. It didn't matter to me what she did to my body. As long is it made her happy. As long as it pleased her, I was happy too.
What was I thinking? It was definitely NOT ok with me for her to do anything to my body. Was I crazy? What the fuck was I thinking? This bitch is crazy.
But totally hot.
Why was I thinking this? I was gay...wasn't I?
Dude, you're gay. I told myself. Damn it, I'm having conversations with myself as a hot chick threatened to slit my throat.
"But not before I have a little fun of my own." she whispered to me. I felt like giving her the world again. She smelled of vanilla.
Pain.
Pain from my shoulder all the way down to my arm. I could feel the hot liquid dripping down my forearm. My pajama shirt was shredded down that side. I felt it rip off my body, leaving me in nothing but pajama bottoms. In the light of the kitchen, I could see a two foot gash from my shoulder to my wrist. The bitch had cut me. Bitch. Why would she do that? What the fuck is wrong with people?
Her face covered by her curtain of curly hair, she licked the injury from my wrist up to my shoulder and then kissed me. Right on the lips. I could feel my own blood against my lips as her tongue fought with mine for control. I couldn't help but breathe in her vanilla scent and swoon. By body told me that this was wrong. My mind didn't give a fuck. She pulled away and looked me in the face. She had a round face, with a small nose and full lips. Her eyes were the deepest, clearest green I had ever seen. Like two emeralds held up against the light. The seemed to flare when we made eye contact.
I managed to break away and look down at my arm, sure it would be a bloody mess. Instead, it was perfectly healed. There was still blood there, but the gash was gone.
I didn't have any time to register this fact, as I was to busy screaming out in pain. She had cut my other arm in the same way. She began to lick the would in the same fashion as she had before.
"look, I don't know who or what you are, but if this is your freaky kind of foreplay, you can just go home because I'm gay." I was babbling. Why would this woman stop simply because I didnt like what she was doing? She broke into my house proceeded to cut the shit out of me and clearly gave zero fucks about how I felt about it.
"Fine" she pulled away from me, leaving a half of a cut from the inside of my elbow to my shoulder. It looked like wherever she licked it healed. She looked me straight in the eyes, pouting her perfect lips. Her eyes were shining as if she were about to cry.
"I'll just do it the hard way then." she looked down at her own wrist and slashed a gash in it with the knife. She did the same to my wrist, and then pressed the two together.
I like hot showers because of the burning sensation it gives to my skin. But this was a whole other level. As our blood mixed, I felt as if she were pouring lava straight into my blood stream.
"Stop!" I screamed, struggling against her vice grip. "Stop it now! It hurts! Stop!" my screams turned to pleading whimpers and she allowed me to slump and fall to my knees on the ground, keeping our wrists connected as she knelt with me.
After a time with my wrist burning like a mother fucker, she finally disconnected our wrists, letting my blood trickle to the floor. She put her hands on either side of my face and gently helped me rise to my feet so that we were standing facing one another. If the situation weren't so fucking crazy and scary as shit, it might have been romantic. She kissed me again, long and hard while she cut me all over my body. A cut here, a gash there. While she was kissing me, I felt no pain, just pressure and the knowledge that I was bleeding all over the floor.
The crazy part was that by this time, I didn't even care. She could do anything with me that she wanted. I mentally gave up. She had permission. I lost all my will. She broke our kiss and pain blossomed all over my body, like I had been numb but was now fully aware.
"Perfect." she whispered onto my lips and began to tremble. Not out of fear, or anger, or sadness. I was trembling with burning desire. I wanted to kiss her again. For her to be satisfied by me. Anything she wanted.
She gave me another quick but deep kiss and then moved her lips to my neck. A bit of pressure...and then nothing. I closed my eyes, and concentrated as hard as I could on all of the pain that I should feel. I could feel the blood draining from my body. My open wounds. But no pain. I felt her lips against my neck and she smiled against my skin. I wondered why I didn't like women. This was fantastic. Maybe I need to reconsider my sexuality.
But then she stopped. She pulled away and looked me in the eyes again. I felt so incredibly sad that she had stopped. I wanted more. I wanted her. Like I had never wanted anything else.
Suddenly, it made sense to me know. I knew enough about popular culture to recognize the signs when I saw them.
"you're a-" she stopped my words with her forefinger pressed against my lips. I surprised myself by parting my lips and licking it. She tasted just like she smelled. Vanilla. She smirked to herself, a kind of wistful half smile.
"Yes, honey." she moved so that her hands were cupping my face again. "And I'll see you again soon enough."
And with that, she snapped my neck.
Later, I learned that my dad had returned home to find me in the kitchen, slumped on the ground with cuts all over my body. There was blood and pizza rolls everywhere. The door had been kicked in, which accounts for that loud banging sound I had heard while in the shower.
When my dad found me, my music was still playing.
Eyes on fire
Your spine is ablaze
Felling any foe with my gaze