Oppressive.
My first night of death.
I had been drained, murdered and lost all of my free will.
The cool dirt weighed upon me. Reminding me of the burden my death. This was a place I had always imagined surrounding me for my eternal rest. The urge to free myself grew and burst forth from inside of me. My limbs yearned for air. Desperate, manic I struggled with the laborious dig upwards towards my eternal undead life. My arms found their way out first. Grasping for something solid to pull the remaining part of me out. Yet, my reaching was in vain, for someone had latched on to my wrists.
The hands that pulled me out of my makeshift grave were ones that held no comfort. Pulling me out of the ground so quickly and unmercifully that my shoulders popped out of the sockets with the brute force. This was to be my first lesson. Keeping my master waiting, fault of mine or not, would result in pain.
"We are leaving. Get up."
I instinctively looked up with a questioning look, which only resulted being backhanded so quickly and powerfully, leaving me sprawled quite unladylike on the grass. Lesson two: never question, never.
Blood and dirt swirled in my mouth. Fangs, which I had expected, but were still surprising cut through my gums slicing my lower lip. Anger. Rage. Hatred. I swallowed this down with the dirt that had found itself in my mouth. It felt like sandpaper.
My emotions swirled and yet I knew that I would obey. My passion for him was overwhelming.
Oppressive.
Even with my shoulders screaming, I pulled myself onto my hands and knees. My hair fell over my face and I was glad for the brief moment where my face could display the true pain that I was feeling. Tears of blood pooled in my eyes. I knew that this was a display of weakness that I could not show, and so I took a now unnecessary breath and obeyed.
Pushing against my hands I slid onto my haunches and brushed my filthy hair behind my ear. My hearing exploded as I felt each hair cross my ear, as my heard my fingernails scratched agains my scalp. The night life, awake and embracing their fleeting life with vigor, reveled in the darkness.
Owls, bats and even mosquitos surrounded my senses. Surrounding me were living creatures. I began to stand, I didn't look around, simply hung my head and began to shuffle my feet towards an invisible string that drew me to the one thing that was unliving.
As I continued to move, I began to realize there was another present besides myself and my creator.
"She should feed."
"Perhaps." the voice I instantly knew as my everything and nothing answered.
As much as I wanted to fight the feeling inside of me knowing that this was a man who I completely despised and hated with my core being, his voice was for lack of a better word was, home.
"She will not be as useful to me if she is hungry, and she has a debt to pay." The words slither near me, enveloping me. I knew in that moment how Bill had been powerless to Lorena.
"Would you like me to find something for the both of you? Perhaps, it would be wise to remain here away from prying human eyes until she has a chance to adjust."
"Yes. " Hunger, want and need exploded into my being. An ache so acute and overwhelming that I prepared myself for disobedience and the sure punishment so I could embrace this all consuming need. Blood.
I rocked back on my heels prepping to break into the night, when my first command was issued. "Stay" my master said and then disappeared into the night.
My hunger remained, but there was something more in my core that rooted me to that spot of Louisiana soil. My body screamed with need, a basic fundamental desire to survive. Yet, I could not move. He. Owned. Me.
Apparently, vampire pain was not much different then humans. My shoulder hurt like hell. The question was though how would one get two dislocated shoulders back into their sockets with feet unable to move. Instinctively, I knew my body would repair itself and over time, and perhaps with a day of rest my body would right itself. Time, however long my existence was to last, was not on my side.
I needed a pain free conscious. So, I simply threw myself feet still rooted on the ground chest first. Nine tries later, while laying there I flash backed to the last words Eric had spoken to me as a mortal, "Sookie, your are no longer going to live, simply survive."
Sookie Stackhouse will remain through this transition.
Yet I felt more too. So very much more. He had made me more.
My name is Sookie Stackhouse.
Tonight I awoke a vampire against my will.
My maker is Appius Livius Ocella.
I will survive.
