Eileen woke up with a start; her body slick with sweat, her heart hammering against her chest, her mind a painful, racing blur and with an obnoxious, high pitched, repetitive bleeping
chorusing in her ears.
As she took stock of her surroundings, the pictures forming a reminder with the sounds and memories, she realised that she was in hospital. Sussex County hospital. As she lay back onto
the uncomfortable and somewhat damp bed, she remembered that she had been here, the same dull room, for three days straight. Waiting. Waiting for somebody to die that wasn't her.
Hoping somebody else's body would give out before hers. It was an odd sensation, to be praying to God that he would take somebody's life so that she could live, but Eileen was a fighter
and she felt no guilt about it.
Three months earlier she had been diagnosed with a severe heart disorder. A course of medication and series of treatments had failed, and a month later she had been put on the
transplant list. Three days ago she had come in to receive a new heart, but there had been a problem and the heart did not come. Now she was just waiting for some poor soul to die so
that she could poach their ticker. It had consumed her life over the last twelve weeks and she wondered if she would ever now be able to go back to the life she had before. The one
where she was a linguistics student who partied all night, studied all day and the two activities were only separated by a daily dose of menial work at an off-license in order to raise cash.
At the beginning all of her friends had rallied around, visiting daily. Then the visits had ebbed, to be replaced by calls. And eventually, now, they were limited to one group call per week. It
wasn't a sign that they cared less, it wasn't selfishness on their part, and Eileen didn't begrudge it of them. It was a sign to Eileen that life goes on without you, necessarily, and if you die,
you get forgotten, again necessarily. So here she lay, hoping that someone would die, and soon.
At five am there was a great rush of activity at the nurses station, much hushed whispering, rustling of paper's and tapping of computer keys. Then nurse Hayes approached, flanked by
Doctor Peters- the heart surgeon and Doctor Echolls - the anaesthetist. "Leah, are you awake?" She pulled herself up onto elbows, blinking at them as signal to carry on. "Leah we have a
heart ready for you. Surgery will be at eight this morning, lasting five hours approximately. Doctor Echolls here will talk you through the anaesthetic procedure. Please try to relax until
then, and I'll see you in theatre." Doctor Peters informed her matter of factly and then swept out of the room. He appeared cold and detached but Eileen appreciated his candour.
Three hours later Eileen lay on the gurney, her eye lids faltering and prayed to whomever was listening that she came out of this alive…
ELEVEN MONTHS LATER
"We're glad to tell you that the transplant has been a total success, and your recovery has completed well Miss Croft" Dr Peters smiled at her from behind his desk. A swell of pride glowed
in her chest and Eileen beamed with happiness. This meant that she could finally try to scrape her life back together again, party again, go back to studying and work.
As she walked out to the bus stop, the unusually sunny weather reflecting her mood, a car pulled up on the other side of the street. A black Mitsubishi warrior, the kind of car Eileen
always thought she would get for herself if she ever learned to drive. She was pulled out of this thought though as the bus pulled up and she jogged to catch it in time.
That Mitsubishi warrior seemed to be following her everywhere for the rest of the week. She would be walking to class and it would drive past her, it would be parked down the road from
the shop she worked in all night, apparently empty. It was really freaking weird. It came to a head on the Friday night after her hospital trip. The first party she was going to with all of the
old gang there since before her diagnosis. The party was in one of their homes, and was set to be party of the year if people's anticipation was anything to go by. The theme was Movie's
and TV, and Eileen had picked out the perfect outfit. An extremely fitted black body contour dress, her long dark hair curled and moussed to within an inch of it's life, big black heels and
bangles on her wrist. Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman- HOT.
The party was fan-fucking-tastic, with everyone pleased to see her and all the guys remarking on how fit she was looking, the attention boosted her confidence no bounds. The only thing
off was that she had spied that bloody black Mitsubishi parked outside on the corner. After a couple of rum n cokes and a few more shots of various disgusting something or others, she
finally worked up the courage to check out the car. Strutting out of the house in her heels, bravery framed by her alcohol buzz she made her way towards the car. As she got closer she
could make out two figures in the front seats. She didn't have to even knock on the window as it was unrolled as she approached- allowing her her first view of the suspected stalkers-
two men, maybe late twenties, early thirties, hot and ruggedly manly looking. Not the typical stalker types, but they wore an air of danger none the less. "So what are you fellas up to?"
Eileen asked, arms folded, hip jutted at an attitudinal angle. The man in the driver's seat cocked his eyebrow, "Just sitting. That illegal?" He asked cockily. A deep southern US accent
marred his speech. "Uhm, well I'm pretty sure that stalking is illegal, yeah. And that cowboy accent? Not sure on that one, but it definitely should be if you ask me" she replied with a
drunken spark of sarcasm. The guy frowned a little but shook his head, "Stalking? Lady you think mighty high of yourself don'tcha?" "Dean…" the passenger reprimanded."Look, either tell
me what the fuck you've been following me for, or I'll just be going on back inside and sharing with all my big male friends…" Eileen threatened. She was a hundred percent that the boys
would be out here in a flash to have words with these hicks. Suddenly the passenger door opened and an incredibly tall guy folded out of it. He had that
awful man look on his face, the "baby please believe me, I would never do that to you/ sleep with her/ hurt you" look. Bull. "Hey I'm Sam… that's my brother Dean… we have been
following you… but it's not what you think. We'd never hurt you or anything (told you) but we really need to talk to you…" Eileen looked at him disbelievingly and then huffed out, "So
talk". This seemed to have him at a loss for words. "Yeah, I thought so…" she bit out and turned to stalk back to the house full of her friends. As she reached the curb a strong grip on her
elbow stopped her and he entire body froze, the alcoholic confidence boost taking an immediate backseat to the more real fear that these men could very likely be a danger to her.
She turned warily to find herself looking into the eyes of Dean. Deep green eyes with brown flecks. Nice eyes. "What do you want?" She asked almost pleadingly. His face softened and he
leaned in close to her face as he whispered into her ear the most terrifying words she had ever heard, "I'm sorry…" then everything was black.
As she awoke, Eileen was keenly aware of her body's limitations. Her arms and legs ached at awkward angles and appeared to be bound. As her eyes fluttered open she narrowed them
due to the vulgar light that flooded her senses. The smell of salt and sweat was apparent to her nose.
"She awake?" A gruff Texan voice asked, and her eyes flew open despite the blinding light. Two large shapes were barely visible to her and the memories came flooding back. The
mitsubishi, the two cowboys, "I'm sorry…" her blood ran cold. "Rise and shine princess" The gruff voice of who she now remembered to be Dean mocked. Tears formed in her eyes and
panic blurred her thought process.
"Dean, I think we should tread carefully here… I mean we don't even know what she is yet" the voice of the bullshitter spoke. "Sammy, they put an evil heart in her- it don't take rocket
science man" Dean sighed as though this were not the first time this exchanged had been had.
Her eyes adjusted and she could now see Sam sat on a wooden stool, and Dean pacing in front of her with a mean looking knife on his belt. A ring of what appeared to be salt was formed
around her, and the room was indistinct apart from it's lack of windows. "What do you want?" she rasped and was surprised at how unlike herself she sounded. The voice that came out
was dry like sandpaper and stained with bitterness and fear. The two men looked at her curiously.
"Eileen… you had a heart transplant a while ago right?" She nodded cautiously. "Do you know anything about where the heart came from?" Sam asked softly.
She didn't even think before she retorted, "Hopefully a dead person". Sam frowned a little but she thought she saw the ghost of a smirk play across Dean's lips momentarily.
"Did they tell you their name or how they died?" Sam pushed.
Eileen blinked several times before answering honestly. "No… I didn't want to know."
Sam looked up towards Dean with a frustrated look upon his face and Dean sighed loudly. He dragged a chair in front of her and sat on it backwards, arms draped across the back.
"Alright princess, we don't really have time for the whole Truth is Out There speech, so here's the deal… the guy who's heart you got? He was a vampire. He wasn't dead, well, he was,
technically, but… hell, we poisoned him with dead man's blood and locked him in our motel room but some ditsy maid found him and called an ambulance. They thought he was dead and
gave his heart to you… so now he really is dead, but you have an undead, evil heart in your chest, which may very well make you a vampire now too... or something else all together."
He finished and scanned her face with his eyes. Eileen took a moment to process what she had just been told, and then the tears sprang back up into her eyes. She closed them tight and
when she opened them tears ran steadily down her cheeks.
"Just kill me quick, please…" she begged desperately. The man's green eyes registered his shock. "What?" She twisted violently in her bindings and started to scream at him in her still
gravely voice.
"Please, just do it quick. Fucking do it! I don't want to be a part of any of this bull shit, so just do it fucking fast for me! Don't drag it out!"
He realised what she meant. She thought they were crazy. Psychotic serial killers or some shit. She didn't believe him… not surprising really when you thought about it.
Whilst she bucked and turned in her seat, yelling at them to kill her, Sam had left the room- probably to call Bobby, and Dean took the opportunity to study the young woman in front of
him that they had been tracking for almost a month now.
Eileen Rose Croft, 22 years old, father dead, mother not around. A party girl, but clever, top of her class in linguistics. No boyfriend, which was odd considering that this girl was smoking
hot. Long brown hair, bright blue eyes, a body that was womanly in all the right ways, toned but still curvy and soft. Short, but her personality seemed to make her seem taller. Lots of
friends. Man HOW is this girl still single?! Dean pondered, then realised that she had quietened down to a resigned sob.
His hand reached out to caress her face before he could regain control, and her head jerked back violently. Her blue eyes tossing accusations and empty threats at him silently.
"Hey, sorry" he said, hands in the air in surrender. "Honestly not here to hurt you… just need to figure out what you are. I swear it."
And for some insane, unknown reason- a small part of Eileen believed him.
It seemed like hours before Sam cam back into the room, tucking a mobile phone back into his pocket and with a serious look etched onto his face. "What'd Bobby say?" Dean asked.
"He says we gotta test her. We know her heart's pumping but what about sunlight, fangs, dead man's blood, strength, senses, imperviousness… appetite…" he trailed off with a worried
glance towards a now defeated Eileen.
Dean blew out a heavy, drawn out breath and got to his feet.
"Ok… so what first?"
When Sam moved towards her with a blood stained knife, Eileen was sure that this was it.
The end.
Bloody and painful.
Her body tensed and her mind raced with wishes of never stepping out of the hospital alive eleven months ago.