AUTHOR'S NOTE
This story was originally written by Demon Flame called I Died in Dallas. I liked the story but apparently, the original author may have lost interest in writing this story and said as much when it was announced at the end of the second chapter. The author encouraged someone to pick up the story and normally I would never do this out sheer laziness and lack of creativity. But since I've always been fascinated with writing, I figured rewriting parts and continuing a story might work for a beginner like me. Words and application will change but the original main idea of the first chapter is there, any chapters after that will be mine with some inspiration from the original content. This will be unedited so please be as kind as you allow yourself to be.
Thank You!
p.s. I added Warlow since I enjoyed his storyline and I'm planning on improving his character and changing a few things about him.
"Death is not the greatest loss in life.
The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."
-Norman Cousins
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me through the woods, I needed to put as much distance between me and the burial ground I just clawed out of. I stumbled out of the dense, woody thicket of tree line onto the crude black asphalt looking like a deranged wild woman. At least that's the description I gathered from an unspoken thought coming from a pick-up truck swerving towards me, along with a few explicit expressions that clearly came from the male driver. I suppose it was a good thing there had been no one driving behind him and that he had his headlights on in the dimming light of the day.
I ran to his passenger side window that had been rolled down frantically begging to unlock his truck, "Please! Let me in! Someone's after me!" Despite looking like a dirty tortured victim that obviously merited my frantic state, he was hesitant; he wasn't sure if he could risk helping me without turning into a victim himself. "Please, I-" Tears brimmed and a sob choked out of me unintentionally, now that I wasn't running anymore, my emotions were spilling out. "I think I need to go to the hospital."
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that whoever tried to bury me wasn't close by. I'm sure I've eluded my attacker since I haven't heard anyone trailing behind me but the silence didn't alleviate my terror. Sympathy carried on to the man's resolve ending his inner turmoil and he unlocked his truck. "Get in." I climb the step rail and frantically thrust myself into the passenger seat, banging my head on the side of the roof of the truck. "Fudge!" I exclaim cradling my head in my arms as I'm hunched over trying to stop the reverberating pain in my head, luckily it's a welcome distraction in preventing my tears from slipping out.
The truck resumed its movement and accelerated as the driver gave me a moment to recover while stealing glances and taking notice of my barefoot soil covered self. It wasn't till we turned and merged onto a highway a few minutes later when my rescuer decided to ask the inevitable. "What happened to you, girl? Who's after you?" I hope she didn't get involved with a fanger. How old is she? Fuck! I hope that brown spot's not blood, was she raped?
"I...I honestly don't remember." I replied dejectedly trying to conjure up any memory I could before waking up beneath a loosely compacted soil a few minutes ago. Not only did someone bury me, but someone else was buried with me and had tried to prevent me from escaping. I shuddered at the memory of a hand grabbing the extremity of my foot, trying to pull me back to my grave. I could still feel the weight of that hand which was built like a steel and even felt as cold as one. I was lucky it wasn't my ankle that was grabbed because I would never have escaped then.
"Someone tried to bury me...but I'm not sure why or who did it," I reveal to my concerned rescuer. He was thinking of serial killers, cannibals, and vampires-which surprisingly was parallel to the dark path my mind was heading. I could feel sadness and indecisiveness rolling off of him. He wanted to console me somehow but wasn't sure how to go about doing it without opening my emotional floodgates. I thought that was touching enough and I really didn't care for reassurances since it'll only be pointless and won't help my present situation. But I felt the need to reward his thoughtfulness with an assurance that I'll be fine regardless the dread that's settled deep within me.
"I don't think I'm badly injured though." I check my appendages for good measure despite the fact that I was sure nothing was really broken. I do a quick internal sweep for pain, finding none and noting that my bare feet weren't even hurting from running through the woods which I'm finding odd.
I studied my rescuer's countenance, who introduced himself as Leonard Polk, and took note of his appearance just in case I find myself in another bizarre situation where I might need to recall his description. He seems like he's in his mid-thirties, average in height, a few inches taller than me perhaps, stocky build, and if it weren't for his double chin, I'd say that he could be Paul Rudd's doppelganger. Leonard grabbed his phone from the console between us and called the police informing them of my situation and letting them know that he was taking me to Christus Mother Frances Hospital. I thought that was strange, I've never heard of that particular hospital before and I don't think I know where it's at, which I revealed as much to Leonard when I asked him about it.
"It's the biggest one in Tyler" he replied but continued when he saw confusion in my face, "there's not a whole lot of hospitals there but I'm sure you'll be well taken care of."
"Tyler...Texas?" I ask slowly, dreading the unfamiliarity of my location. It's bad enough that I find myself in an unwanted precarious situation which I have no recollection how I ended up in, now I'm in a different state, in an unknown setting to add to my growing list of bizarre circumstance. Leonard glanced at me, catching on to the way my voice hitched when I mentioned Texas.
"Yes. Right now we're on i20 outside of Lindale heading towards Tyler." He explains in detail so I could grasp my location as if knowing that I needed something to ground and comfort me considering the confusing crap storm I'm in. It did help me some but it still didn't pacify the fact that I'm not in Louisiana, within metaphorical reach of Gran, Jason, and the familiarity of my friends.
"But... I live in Louisiana." I mull out loud just to answer his unspoken question without him having to ask. "Don't you worry sweetheart, the police'll find who did this to you" he says with sincerity rolling off of him. I nodded absently and mumbled my thanks but said nothing further as we drove. After listening to Leonard internally fuss and worry over me and the gravity of my situation which I found comforting, I put my mental shield up to relax since I'm sure that I wasn't in any danger around him.
I watched the rays of the sun disappear over the horizon out of my window and thought of the hand that had grabbed me. The possibility of what that hand could belong to was dissolving my denial, I'm almost sure, and with the present evidence, that it was a vampire's hand. Who else would bury themselves knowing they couldn't breathe underneath the soil? And considering the size of the hand and the thickness of the fingers, I'm guessing it was a male vampire. But why would a vampire burry me... unless- suddenly disturbing apprehension overwhelms me and something in my chest drops.
Unless he tried to turn me into one. Fudge!
How vampires get turned wasn't really a secret anymore, it was a common knowledge that spread after vampires "came out of the coffin" so to speak. A vampire trying to turn me over seems like a reasonable explanation to my situation except I'm not a vampire. Am I? No, if I was I would've burned as soon as I climbed out of the grave. Plus the sun's still out and I'm still here, and it's not like I'm wanting to bathe in blood. After all, It was another common knowledge that newborn vampires are bloodthirsty, something I am thankfully not feeling at all. If a vampire did try to turn me, I guess it just didn't work in which I probably have my disability to thank for, for once.
I thumbed the hem of my once white tee shirt that was now brown and muddied with dirt and dried blood. I pondered why I wasn't wearing my jacket anymore and every kind of situation that could've led me to be buried with a vampire and possibly almost turned into one. And that's how I remembered Sam and Dallas... "I was at the Food Safety Summit & Expo in Dallas!" I blurt out causing Leonard to swerve out of the lane in alarm to my sudden proclamation.
I heard him say fuck before he said it out loud and as soon as he gathered his wits he wanted to chastise me for almost causing an accident but instead settled with, "The one that was held at The Marriot Hotel in downtown? Three days ago?"
"Yes! That's the one! Wait...what do you mean three days ago?" I ask fearfully. If it has been three days then poor Sam must be worried sick and possibly upset that I've been gone for that long without calling him. "The expo ended three days ago, I'd know, I was staying at my sister's in Dallas and we couldn't even get to the Cork in West Village cause of all the traffic with the Expo." Leonard looks at me with pity thinking that people were probably thinking the worst has happened to me. "Do you want to call someone? Where you with someone at that expo? They're probably looking for you."
"You're right! I went with my boss Sam Merlotte. He's probably worried sick and probably already called my g- gran! I oughtta call her first instead." I turn to Leonard to borrow his phone, the cab was almost completely dark now as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon.
He holds out his phone but my eyes couldn't look away from his pulsing artery just below his ears. It was strangely hypnotizing to watch the way it was thumping, it's such a tiny little vein but plays such a major role in circulating the blood in the body. It's pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat and by the diameter of that artery and the speed it's moving, I can tell that he's well hydrated. Somehow I knew that if I were to cut that artery open, blood would stream freely which would sedate my thirst faster.
As soon as I acknowledged it, pain from hunger consumed me. My mouth went painfully dry and I had to bite down hard to alleviate the itch in my gums. My tongue hovered in my mouth, unable to touch it's sandy casing, I need to relieve the pain in my mouth and I knew blood would help.
"Hey, girl, are you alright? You look a little distraught." He said. I answer with a head shake since I can't talk, my mouth was too painfully dry for that and I was too painfully hungry to waste my energy in explaining it to him, I doubt he understands.
Alarms were going off in my head warning me against where my dark nonsensical thoughts were heading, begging me to think logically, but the pain spreading within me overpowered whatever morals I had left. Anybody who could feel this hunger would understand. I look at him in the eyes, telling him without words to understand that I just want a little blood to help pacify my ever-growing need
I felt my teeth elongate, pushing and tearing my gums which just intensifies my need to bite like a puppy needing a soft toy to chew. "Oh, fuc-" I launch myself across the console before he could even finish that word, and I bit down over the beckoning artery in his neck right before the truck swerved for the third time and finally crashed into a ditch on the side of the road. Leonard had a hand on my chin and hair trying to pull me away from him, but his tugging didn't distract from the orgasmic relief his blood provided to my stomach and especially my mouth. I moaned with every mouthful of blood I sucked from him as I could feel it traveling and coating everything it touches within me, tingling its way into my stomach filling me with warmth and waking up my senses. I was high for the first time in my life and I wanted more.
I hadn't realized till we both fell and my teeth unlatched that Leonard managed to open his car door and stumble out with me falling awkwardly to my face while he fell on his back. He tried heaving away from me but he was weak, lightheaded, and clumsy. I straightened up, pulled him by his collar and punched his round stomach and he went out like a rag doll. He was limp and normally with his dead weight I would've injured myself if he fell on me, but with my newfound strength I held him up against the side of the truck and took another bite from another artery that wasn't damaged and deflated like the first one.
My uninterrupted time drinking from him is how I've imagined slow lovemaking would be like. It's sweet, intense, and satisfying except for the fact that I was left miserably unsatisfied and in dire need to have him inside me. Had I an inkling of what I was really doing, I would've stopped and walked away but I found absolutely nothing wrong with my actions. Besides, I justified my reason with the fact that he was out and no one would know what I've done. Couple that with the fact that I heard Leonard thinking that he found me attractive when he was assessing the severity of my injuries earlier, I figured he wouldn't mind when he woke up.
I stopped feeding and had my left hand holding him up against the truck while my right was working his belt off and trying to get his pants and boxers down. When his pants and boxers were lowered to his knees, I used my foot to shove it lower to his ankles. I assessed him for a minute wondering if it's possible to have sex with someone as limp as he was. I wrapped my hand around his dick and started tugging, thinking I could probably get it hard.
A hand enclosed at the base of my neck behind me and ripped me away from my crude act and even more vile thoughts and had me drop Leonard limply to the ground. The same hand pinned me face flat against the side of the truck as I tried to claw and kick behind me in a blood induced haze, ready to rip this person to shreds for thwarting my need for sex and blood.
"As your maker, I command you to keep still." My body, controlled by an unshakable will stood in attention as if my animalistic craze didn't exist just a second before. My bloodlust dimmed and my clarity restored to me once more except for a small part of my humanity which seemed to have diminished some with my newfound perspective as a predator.
I realized that he called himself my maker before laying a magical command that apparently my body has to willfully obey. I have no prior knowledge of any vampire law or hierarchy but it didn't take a genius to realize that not only this vampire created me but he was stronger than I, both in strength and in accordance to our vampiric nature.
The hand that held me let up and let go of me but I had no control over my body to turn and face my maker. Losing control of my will was a nightmare to any person who values their independence, but there was a strange comforting spark that blossomed from the pit of my stomach and I knew it was from my maker's voice and proximity.
His voice was an enigma, it was young in pitch and timbre but old with its weight and assertion. Hearing it was like a feeling of déjà vu- fueling the feeling of familiarity or a pleasantly fabricated memory I cannot recall. The impression it leaves me is intense, like a happy childhood or what I'd imagine falling in love would be like.
My overwhelming and confounding feeling ceases and is replaced with something more enlightening as I hear him speak again, a mumble really but the command placed with it is clear and direct and not at all intended towards me. His slightly accented voice instructed Leonard to present himself decently and to call the police and report he had an accident, blacked out and told him not to remember a thing which I found odd. How can someone instruct another to not remember what happened unless you're persuasive as a hyp- a hypnotist!
Are vampires able to hypnotize others or is it just my maker that has that special kind of skill? Maybe it's a hobby he picked up along the way seeing its a usefulness, especially if your a predator to humans. I went on to wonder other things such as my maker's possible age, origin, and name when he turned his command to me as he did before.
"As your maker, I command you to do as you will." With that said, I turned around to face a boy. If it weren't for a thin crease of a line around his mouth I'd say he's just a teenager, maybe even close to the legal drinking age. but despite the fact that time left my maker's face young and untouched, something in his air and gaze told me that he was ancient. He never took his eyes off of mine yet somehow I knew that he was painfully aware and is anticipating the smallest movement I have yet to make.
He was radiant despite the darkness, his height was a few inch within my line of sight but it didn't diminish his substantial presence which rooted me to my core.
Gran has always told me that she trusted my instinct to survive because I always knew when to hold my tongue or to stand up and give someone a proper lashing. But despite knowing whether or not danger was in front of me, I can proudly say that I've never let fear take a hold of me. Even though intuition was telling me to bow and show respect, I straightened my back and relaxed my stance, watching my maker study me. I felt curiosity and pride roll off of him, tugging my chest and evoking the same feeling from within me.
I took my time assessing him from head to toe starting with his stance, which side of the body he shifts his weight to, the bulk of his arms and his chest. His soil dusted loose linen shirt accentuating his chest but hiding the rest of him as it flows freely below the belt. Familiar blue tattoos are lined around his chest and arms hinting but not telling how much of him is really covered.
My mind's reeling back decades even centuries trying to remember what era and culture I've seen his tattoos from.
Growing up from my neck of the woods in Bon Temps, I was considered country enough that most people thought I was lacking substance from the neck up. Aside from my "crazy" streak, I was thought of nothing more than a dumb redneck blonde only good for show and nothing else. Of course no one actually knew I could hear their thoughts, but despite the fact that they were unaware of the hurtful effect their unspoken words would bring to me, I resolved to put on a smile and to prove them wrong by attaining knowledge through encyclopedias and dictionaries, Gran even gave me a word of the day calendar.
Encyclopedias were always fascinating to me because it taught me to be mindful of history and fascinated me with other culture that I would never have come by living in my small hometown. And it's actually because of something I've read in one of those encyclopedia that gave me the gut feeling that his tattoos were old enough to be called ancient.
"You may call me by my given name which is Godric, Sookie" he spoke calmly, as someone who has no fears, worries, or any negative annotation would. As if we stood at a place where time didn't exist and would only resume only if he commands it to, as if Leonard hadn't called the police a minute ago under his command.
And although men who think like that should be feared, the strange connection I feel towards him: the comfort, clarity and the euphoric familial love has me gravitating towards him instead.
How old is he? that thought was a puzzle I felt myself begin to obsess over. I could easily ask him but I didn't want to come off as rude, especially not to a stranger who not only has piqued my interest but someone I felt the need to impress.
"Tell me, what is the cause of your slight agitation?" Even though there's an obvious detachment to his voice, I can tell he was trying to get me to say something to him which only magnified my rude behavior.
"I'm sorry...Godric" I test his name out loud for the first time. "I don't mean to be rude but how do you know my name and why did you turn me?" I added the latter as an afterthought after realizing that I didn't prioritize my question correctly, the second should've been my first question.
He studied me for a while, aware and as intrigued by my temporary amnesia as a blind person would be to a color.
"You gave me your name when I found you after two women beat you with every inch of your life. I only approached you because I found your blood and smell enticing and you were dying. I had asked whether you wanted me to deliver revenge for you but you said you'd rather do it yourself, and you managed to smile despite the gash on your cheekbone. I saw then that although they have beaten you to the death's door, you were never broken. I saw strength in you that could only be comparable and paralleled to a courage I've only seen once before, over a thousand years ago. I found you intriguing, so I gave you my blood and with it life in the darkness."
I wasn't sure how to process the information he provided except I did appreciate his explanation. it was something we both knew he didn't have to indulge me with. Despite that, I had to ask, "Was I given a choice?"
something flickered within him and I felt it. if only for a minuscule moment. "No Sookie, I'm afraid my impulse was conducted with greed, you lost consciousness before I could ask and for that, I apologize." he conveys with weight in his words which I assumed his way of being sincere. The old me would probably be bristling by now, but something in me understood.
I understood his perspective with the situation, understood his intrigue in me as if I saw myself from his eyes, and most importantly, understood that he could not be blamed for me turning into something I couldn't fathom becoming. and upon realizing that, I was afraid for my freedom and that my mind and feelings might not be my own anymore.
"I see you have much to contemplate and we will have more conversations about this. Come, Let us talk about this somewhere private and where you can tend to your comfort."
And with that, he entered my personal bubble and took my hand and wrapped it around his neck as he picked me up like a bride about to step into a threshold. A shift in movement and when I looked around he was carrying me across the sky.
Holy fudging crap, Godric could fly.