By Chrissy Arend
Have you ever felt terror? I mean real terror. The kind that makes your gut clench, your palms sweat. The kind of terror that makes your blood run cold and hot at the same time, the kind of terror that makes you feel like emptying your stomach yet you can't find the strength to do it. A terror that makes you wish you had told your family that you loved them, if you had any.
The terror you face when you are looking at your own death.
I have felt it. I felt it when my parents died.
I was feeling it right now.
I was looking at the bringer of my own death. I looked in its face and realized that I was going to die, it wasn't going to be heroic, and it wasn't going to be poetic. It was going to be painful, and I was probably going to die screaming.
I was looking into the face of death and he was beautiful. He must have been over six feet since he towered over me more than a foot, he was thin, wiry. His face was perfectly symmetrical like someone with a loving hand had taken years to carve it out of the finest white marble. The sclera of his eyes were black instead of the human white, while his irises were yellow and almost glowing, the pupil was shaped like a cats and black. His canine teeth were sharp, white and overlapping his soft pink lips. His long black hair was partially held back in a ponytail, the rest falling past his shoulders.
He was a Vampire and I was going to die.
I was going to die. How many times had that thought gone through my mind? I don't know, but it was still spinning around my mind like a broken record. I didn't want to die; there was still so much I hadn't done.
I never told my friend's how much I loved them.
I was eighteen and I had never had a boyfriend.
I never even got to go to Japan like I had always wanted.
He closed the space between us and gently tipped up my chin making me meet his eyes. I was too terrified to resist, I couldn't even make my legs obey my brain and run. I knew that even if I did run he was stronger, faster and could see a lot better in the dark than I could. I was prey and he was the hunter, I now had even more sympathy for animals that were hunted.
It's odd I loved everything supernatural in books; I read hundreds of books on vampires. When other little girls wanted to be ballerinas I kinda wanted to be a vampire. In theory it was an adventure worth having. I always wanted to meet a vampire, I never thought I would be scared, but facing a vampire right now. Something that I never thought existed, something that was a thing of daydreams, something I was sure would never hurt me because it wasn't real. I was wrong about it, vampires were real, they would hurt you, they would kill you, and my dreams were broken like a mirror dropped off the side of a building. That terrified me.
The moment I met his eyes I stopped thinking for a moment and just stood there hypnotized. His eyes held no malice; they could almost be described as sad. His eyes were clear and I could see every emotion he felt, loneliness, desire, even emotions I couldn't describe because I had never seen them before.
He held my chin in place and used his other hand to pull my jean jacket off one of my shoulders. I shivered, whether from fear or the cold I wasn't sure, but I still couldn't run. Something held me in place, maybe his will power, maybe my terror. I thought fleetingly about a the fight or flight theory and realized that it was useless, there had to be a third option… fight, flight or fright. I came in last.
A tear fell down my cheek and he followed it with his eyes before wiping it away. He closed his eyes and leaned down, I was surprised to feel his cold breath on my neck. His hand left my chin and rested on my shoulder as the other one snaked around my body holding me tightly against his body. Even if my body responded to my commands I would not have been able to break his hold on me, it wasn't painful, just firm.
His tongue brushed my neck twice before I felt his cold teeth press against my neck. I heard something that sounded like 'I'm sorry' before his fangs plunged into my exposed throat and down into my carotid artery.
I gasped unable to draw enough breath to scream. My brain told me I didn't need to scream, that I wasn't in pain and for a moment I listened to it. My brain was right, I wasn't in pain. I could feel his teeth in my skin, but no pain.
I remembered when I had gotten a shot, the feeling of cold liquid being pumped into my muscles and blood stream. That's what I felt now, that's why I had no pain; it seemed that vampires had venom in their fangs that numbed their victims. Well at least I wouldn't die screaming in pain, for that I was thankful.
I felt his fangs pull out of my neck before he returned his mouth to the wound, pulling gently to coax the blood out of my veins and into his waiting mouth. I could feel the swallowing motions of his throat against my skin. But couldn't find the strength to be disgusted, I was already feeling the effects of his meal.
My hands and feet both felt cold, they started to tingle like I had sat in one position to long and they had fallen asleep. I closed my eyes and focused on my body, I had never felt so weird, like I had been lying down for days and suddenly got up to run a marathon. I felt drained if you will pardon my pun, and lightheaded. He stopped the sucking and ran his tongue back over the wounds a few times; I felt the blood flow stop and the terror well up again.
He wasn't going to kill me? Was he going to keep me alive as his personal food source?
He pulled back to look me in the eye, I knew he saw my terror and I wondered why I saw his sympathy. Were vampires supposed to be sympathetic to the humans they fed on? I dismissed my thoughts and just watched him; he showed no signs of having just feasted on my neck. Not a speck of blood marred his pale skin and I almost felt honored that I wasn't just a quick sloppy meal.
I felt numb, I could feel now, my head started pounding loudly in my ears. My stomach gave a sudden lurch, the wound in my neck burned, and I wished strongly for death.
He removed his hand from my shoulder and brought it to his mouth; I saw a flash of white fangs before he bit himself and offered me his own wrist.
I looked down at the blood welling up and falling down his pale, slender wrist and suddenly felt hungry as the pounding in my head increased. I felt weak and helpless, but hungry at the same time.
He wasn't numbing me; the venom from his fangs went through my blood stream and acted as the virus that would trigger vampirism. All I had to do was drink his blood and I would be healed, I would live.
I licked my lips and could almost taste his blood on my tongue, cold. Like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer's day, my body cried out for me to lower my mouth to his wrist, and my head screamed at me not to. He tipped his hand letting the blood flow down his fingers, I licked my lips again and he touched my tongue with one of his bloodied fingers.
I felt like I had just touched a nine-volt battery to my tongue, it was electrifying, it was refreshing, it was cold, it was like a fine wine and I wanted more. He loosened his hold on my arms and I took his wrist almost reverently between my hands, I studied my hands for a moment. They were pale, paler than his, and turning blue, I was dying and I had stopped fearing it. I didn't have to drink his blood, his blood. I rolled it around on my tongue; I could feel him in it. I could feel his loneliness, I could feel his want.
I looked up at him with some effort and found his eyes. He was watching me intently and I knew if I chose not to he would not make me drink his blood, he would not force it upon me. I wet my finger with his blood and brought it to my mouth carefully sucking all the blood off. Again I tasted his emotions, I knew about him.
He had been watching me for a while, he had chosen me as a companion, he had fallen in love with me and I never knew before today. I felt something slide down my cheek and I realized I was crying for him, he had been alone for so long. I lifted his wrist to my mouth and softly licked off the blood that had been spilled before closing my mouth over the two puncture wounds.
His life came to me and I wondered if the same thing had happened to him when he took my blood.
I saw his turning; his father was a merchant who owed men money that he couldn't pay. He owed money to a vampire and the vampire asked for his first born as payment. He had been willingly given up since the debt would be settled and the merchant had other sons who could take his place. The vampire had turned him in front of his father and then made him watch as he killed his entire family. I felt the pain of the betrayal, I felt the helplessness as he watched his family slaughtered.
Years later I saw him; the scenery had changed as if decades had passed. I saw him drive a stake through his master's heart on a cold and raining night. I felt his satisfaction as he watched his master turn to dust that was washed away by the rain. I felt his heart lighten now that he had become strong enough to avenge his families slaughter.
The scene changed again and I was now in our current time; I felt his loneliness anew, he had made his way in the world by feeding on criminals and rapists.
I saw him watching me; watching me at my job at the book store, watching me at school. I felt his want, his need of a companion, I saw him watching me at my parents funeral days after they had died in the crash. I saw him watching over me, like an odd guardian angel.
I felt him at war with himself about his decision to turn me. I felt him sink his teeth into my neck again and I felt my own fear.
I woke up screaming and looked around in a panic thinking it had all been a bad dream, but I knew better. It is very strange to say this, but I hadn't felt more alive in my life. Colors were sharper, smells were clearer; my hearing could pick the sound of soft breathing.
The breathing of the one who had turned me. He was watching me and I smiled at him, his surprise humoring me. I found no hate in my heart for him, he gave me a choice. I couldn't hate him, he wasn't like his master.
I could love him, I think I did. Seeing things from his view was, a real eye opener, again pardon my pun. This was real love, not something made in a movie to look real, not a front put up by people to fool others into thinking they were happy. I hadn't even known him consciously for an hour and I knew I was in love with him; maybe that's what they mean when they say 'love at first sight' or I guess 'love at first bite'.
It has been a century since that day, my birthday if you will. I was still with my vampire husband; we even had an official ceremony and everything.
Together we had watched cities rise and fall. We had seen cars fly; the scientists had finally gotten the formulas down correctly.
Together we watched as people colonized the moon and sent probes even deeper into space to find 'aliens'.
It has been an interesting life so far. We lose our 'powers' during the day, the odd colored eyes, the fangs; the blood lust is still there but controllable. Sunlight doesn't kill us; it is just an annoyance that is easily overcome so we have blended very well into a 'normal' life.
A lot of things can happen in a century.
I have been to college six times. I am a doctor, an artist, a journalist, a novelist, an actor along with many other professions. My husband is all that I am and more, he has decades of experience on me.
We have lived in many places as many different people. A new identity every ten years, a couple that doesn't age is very suspicious. It's fun to a point and sometimes sad. Its fun to be someone else, have a new identity that you created. But it's sad because all the friends you make you have to watch as they age and die.
It's also sad because of God, I believed in him when I was human and I still do now. But we may no longer trespass on holy ground touch crosses, or anything considered holy.
Maybe it is because we feed off of the scum of the world, the ones who are morally corrupted already. We feed off of the rapists, murderers, thieves, child molesters and many others that I can go on for days. We taint ourselves with their blood.
But I often wonder how much more tainted we would become if instead we drank the blood of innocents. Isn't that worse than drinking the blood of one who has created evil in the world? To prey on the innocent, wouldn't that just make us monsters?
I don't understand life most of the time, but I know I chose this path for myself. If time rewound itself and I was back at that alley staring into his face again with all the knowledge I have now. I know for certain that I would make the same decision, I would let him bite me and I would drink his blood again.
Love comes in many forms; you can't always see it for what it is at first. Sometimes it will just spring up and bite you in the butt –or neck- sometimes you have to find it for yourself.
Even though terror seems to be something I was faced with a lot in the beginning, I can honestly say my un-life has been happy.
I love my husband Edward, I have loved him for a hundred years, and I know that I will love him for a hundred more years. He is everything to me and I know he feels the same as I do.
I feel him now, calling for me. He has something planned; I will carefully fold the papers with my story and set them in this desk to be found whenever a curious mortal decided to enter into this place.
This place that we are now resting in. They call it a haunted house, but there is nothing supernatural here besides two vampires that will soon be leaving.
I thank you dear reader for listening to my tale. And I wish you well,
Jenna