Waking up Dead

A/N: I don't own the rights to Sookie Stackhouse. I don't know where this story stands with the original series. Set sometime after the Nevada takeover. It will be dark. Eric/Sookie.

Summary: Unwilling. That's how Sookie Stackhouse would have to describe her feelings in becoming one of the undead. Unsure of who her maker is, and even more uncertain of how she came to be buried six feet under in the middle of the forest, she is now charged with the task of learning the ropes of vampirism.

Chapter One: Sookie Rising

Sookie knew something was off before she even opened her eyes. Keeping them decisively shut, she ignored the waggling thought in the back of her mind that something was VERY wrong. She licked her chapped lips, and raised a hand to rub at her grimy eyes. On her hand's ascent, it met the resistance of something hard. Her eyes flew open in shock, and she stared in alarm at the blackness that pressed in on her from all sides. Lying on her back in a small enclosed space, panic was now at the very forefront of her mind.

"Oh my God!" Sookie cried aloud, "Oh my God!"

She panted, her hands scrabbling to find a break in the hard wood. There was none. Disoriented and terrified, an inhuman scream tore itself from Sookie's throat. Tears streamed from her eyes, trekking sideways down her cheeks to rest in her hair.

"Ok. Ok. Ok, Sookie," She mumbled to herself, "Get it together, girl."

But she couldn't get it together. Her mind was racing, her anxiety soaring, her heart poun--. She froze. A feeling of dread washed over her, and she stopped her desperate struggle with the wooden top. She reached up slowly to touch her cheek. When she brought her hand away, and even through the pitch black interior of the coffin's wooden confines, she could see blood on her finger tips. Her heart would never beat again. Numbness flowed through her body then, and a hoarse cry ripped its way from her throat.

"No! Not me! Oh my lord, not me!"

Another ragged scream, and with her newfound inhuman strength she punched a hole through the coffin's wooden top. The wood cracked and splintered, falling down in chunks upon her face and hair. Dirt began filling her grave as she tore more and more wood away from the surface of the coffin. She began to pull herself up, burrowing her way through the muddy dirt. Up, up, up towards the sky, towards the moon and the stars.

She broke the surface just then, a cool gust of air lightly ruffling her blonde tangles. Sobbing, her face stained with blood, she pulled the rest of her body free from the tomb. It was dark, but not so dark that she couldn't see clearly. She gazed around her hollowly, dimly noticing that the trees and shrubs seemed enhanced, colors brighter and more vibrant. Right then she didn't care. She wouldn't care about anything anymore. She couldn't. Because she was dead. Gasping, she crawled away from her grave and huddled at the base of a large oak tree.

She looked down at her hands, and watched in amazement as a splinter worked its way out of her dirty palm. She was healing herself. This was too much. She couldn't handle it. She raised her head, and for the fourth time that night, her blood curdling shriek echoed in the woods around her.

"Ohh," Sookie sobbed.

Her throat burned, her stomach ached, and her eyes felt grainy. She hadn't noticed before, but now she did. She was hungry. Not for a cheeseburger, either. Bloodlust took over her body in that second, her fangs protracting from her gums. She winced as they drew blood from her lower lip, but ignored it. She would heal. Inhaling deeply, the aroma of moss and dirt invaded her nostrils. The instinct to hunt took over. She stood, taking a tentative step forward. Her undead body moved faster than she could have ever imagined as a human.

She scanned the area around her, searching for her first victim. Her nostrils flared, and she caught the scent of something warm and moist. She took off through the trees, flitting easily; avoiding upturned roots and sharp rocks as she urgently tracked the source of the moistness. She flew through the forest feeling as though she had been running forever, though it had only been mere minutes. She couldn't make sense of what was going on, her head was like a pit of snarling snakes. She paused then, trying to get her bearings straight. She was confused, her head in a fog. She was hungry. So hungry. She sampled the night's air tentatively, trying desperately to pick up the trail she had lost. It was no use. The animal had moved out of her sensory depth.

With the bloodlust now at the back of her mind, Sookie moved wearily to the edge of the clearing, and sank down to the forest floor, once again succumbing to tears. Full of loathing and self pity, she neither heard nor smelled the other vampire until it was right behind her.

"Sookie?"

Her eyes shot open, her body instantly going into fight mode. She whirled to face her attacker; fangs still out, hissing viciously.

A man stood in front her now. A man she knew. Bill.

He stood in front of her, his arms spread out before him. Eyes wide and staring, he gaped at her wordlessly. Sookie hissed again, sinking into a crouch as she began to back away slowly.

"Sookie! Sweetheart, what's happened to you?" Bill asked, his voice sharp.

He stepped towards her, and she could no longer control herself, the instinct to defend herself was too great. She grabbed the nearest weapon available to her. A tree. She ripped the twelve foot baby oak out of the earth, its roots dangling, and threw it with all of her might at her former lover. His eyes widened in shock, and he let out a howl of pain as the oak hit him dead on, knocking him to the ground. She let out a final warning growl and back pedaled, taking off through the trees.

As she ran away, her sensitive hearing picked up the sound of Bill throwing the tree away from himself. She paused, briefly, wondering if he would come after her. She almost turned, to go back and finish the job. Bill was much older than her, she knew she wouldn't win.

Sookie shook her head, feeling as though her brain was sloshing around in her skull. She was suddenly horrified; she didn't want to murder Bill! She had no idea what had just come over her.

"Yes. Yes she's here. Out in the woods between our houses."

Sookie's ears pricked up. Bill was making a phone call to someone. She listened intently. It made her feel better to know that she was close to home.

"…one of us." Bill was saying, "Eric, she's strong. Really strong, and completely primal. STRONG. She threw a tree at me. Yes. Yes…"

Sookie didn't wait to hear the rest the conversation. She began running again, her sense of direction refreshed. She reached the graveyard in minutes, and made her way down its length towards her house.

Her home. It was finally in her sights and Sookie heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, something familiar. She sprinted the last few yards to the door of her back porch and patted the stained pockets of her black waitress pants. No key. With a muffled cry of frustration Sookie pounded her fists on the back door, and was surprised when it came splintering off of its frame. She carelessly pushed it aside, eager to be inside.

The kitchen looked the same. Clean and tidy. She stood uncertainly in its dim light, unsure of what to do next. She inhaled deeply, and her eyes dilated. The scent of her roommate lingered in the air. She bit down, drawing more blood from her bottom lip. She briefly wondered when she would get used to her new fangs. She stalked quietly from room to room, eagerly looking for Amelia. She was nowhere to be found.

Bloody tears flowed from her eyes. Her head ached. She felt as though she hadn't slept nearly enough. She slowly made her way to her bedroom, and sat on the floor against her bed. Staring down at her hands, she saw that they were filthy from her plight with the coffin. She wearily forced herself back to her feet, and made her way over to the small bathroom adjoining her bedroom.

She didn't even bother to peel the ragged remains of her Merlotte's uniform off her cold body. She turned the shower on, not caring about the temperature, and got in fully clothed. As she stood under the spray of the shower, she gasped, unable to comprehend what had happened to her.

Dawn was coming, and with that bitter thought in mind she sank down to the shower floor huddling beneath the spray as shock and exhaustion got the best of her. She closed her eyes, memories and thoughts of a previous life dancing across her eyelids. She lost time, and had no idea how long she had been sitting like that when a cold voice spoke to her.

"Lover," he said.

Her eyes opened sluggishly, but her body reacted to his voice immediately. A wave of intense lust shot through her body and her fangs protracted painfully from her gums. She shot out her position and spun to face him, going on the defensive. Eric. She stared at him, trying to force her body to relax. He wouldn't hurt her, she knew this, but she was wary all the same.

"Sookie," he said gently.

She noticed he didn't move any closer to her, but he was blocking the doorway of the bathroom, staring at her. Waiting for her to say something. She swallowed, blinking wearily. She was drained, feeling for the entire world like she was one of those bobble head dolls.

"If I go to a tanning bed, will I fry?" She asked with a lisp.

Eric laughed, and moved forward into the tiny bathroom, unblocking the exit. Her eyes darted to the now opened doorway, and then back to him again. He was watching her carefully.

"Sookie, come here." He ordered, his hand extended. "Have you fed yet? You need to eat something."

She shrank back away from his hand, and shook her head.

"My Sookie," he whispered, "Come to me. Yield to me."

He started to take another step forward, but she darted out from beneath the shower's cold spray. She underestimated the distance to the doorway and the prowess of the older vampire. He had her pinned against the wall in less than ten seconds, her hands above her head. His body pressed against hers, and she moaned involuntarily. Eric's fangs were showing, and he was grinning toothily down at her. She was too tired to think about fighting back, her survival instincts evaporating in an instant and her lust reemerging with a vengeance.

She let out a low growl and pressed her body against Eric's hardness. Normally, the big Viking would have seized the opportunity to ravage her with an over zealousness that only he could possess, but he stepped back now, and carefully held her at an arm's length keeping them apart those crucial few inches. She wiggled briefly, trying to get closer to him, but his hold remained firm on her arms.

"Now, now. There will be plenty of time for that later, my Sookie," Eric said, the heat in his eyes betraying his thoughts. "The dawn is coming, and you have not slept the full three days."

His hand trailed down her arm to rest on her face, touching the sensitive skin below her eyes.

"My Sookie," he whispered. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

She swallowed, willing herself to calm her excited body. Her eyes slid shut on their own accord, for a brief moment. She had the feeling of being pulled underneath the surface of the ocean, and her eyes snapped back open, shocked. She gazed blearily up at the Viking, meeting his amused blue eyes. She smiled weakly, and then she lost more time.

The next time she awoke, she was in a car, her head resting on Eric's lap.

"Where are we going?" her voice croaked.

He looked down at her in surprise, and brushed a lock of her hair away from her face.

"You shouldn't have woken up again." He stated, calmly. "We're going to my house."

Eric's house, she wondered.

And then she died.

TBC…

A/N: Constructive criticism appreciated.