London at night was quite a spectacular sight to behold. Gas lanterns swaying in the wind, the evening crowd pouring in and out of theaters in glittering streams, cobblestones glistening in the rain. Why was I still here? I had come to England many years ago, and here in one of the most flourishing cities of that time I had found satisfaction for my hunger of company, and my hunger of blood. Back in the time when Godric had first taken me to a big city, I was apalled rather than attracted. I was not used to so many people at once, busy like a bee hive, feeling excluded from the masses going about their business, not caring about one individuum other than themselves. But the longer I isolated myself in the countryside, the more I began to strangely crave the city. I discovered I felt less lonely by becoming a man of the crowd, by dissolving myself in the streams of people passing by. Thus I could, at least temporarily, forget about my isolation and pretend to be human, if only for a moment.
This evening was different. I entered the usual venues, I saw a play at a theater, I walked by the bazaars buzzing with business as usual, but nothing amused me like it used to do. I had no part in all of this, I realized that my absence or presence did not at all matter. I was not sorry that Godric and I had parted, but sometimes I missed simply having someone to talk to, someone to share a thought with. The London vampires then were a decadent bunch; there were covens all over the city and they were prospering. Though I made myself known to some of them, I felt they were despicable. Their company gave me nothing. Their empty, bloodthirsty lines of thought were no better than that of animals – feeding, procreating, seeking shelter. The glamor and pomp they surrounded themselves with was evidence of great vanity, and the inane merrymaking, followed by gory orgies … It was not for me. I was past all that, I was too old already, too weary.
Anyway, these were my thoughts the night I met Pam – a distinctive ennui with the thriving city of London, with myself and my pastimes. Nothing quite excited me anymore, nothing entertained me. I was hungry, whatever the circumstances, for the thirst for blood does not adapt to one's emotional conditions. I switched into 'hunting mode', as I call it nowadays. Heightened awareness, smelling subtler perfumes of skin and taste, scanning potential targets... Call me cliché, but I do prefer young women to feed off. This does involve the occasional exploitation of naiveté and a bit of glamoring.
I finally settled on a young blond woman who stood out in the evening crowd of flaneurs; firstly, she was in a hurry, and secondly, her cheeks were flushed - not with rouge, but from natural excitement. I could sense her heart race from across the opposite side of the street. I followed her. She took a few turns, leading into one of the city's more noble living quarters. I was faintly interested in her goings-about. It was rather unusual in those days for a woman her age and, most importantly, rank to be out at this hour without a male companion or at least a servant or other forms of protection – or rather restriction. Tight-ass Victorians.
The better for me. Of course she did not notice me following her because I have had centuries to perfect my blending in and sneaking abilities (first thing involved me getting rid of that ridiculous stovepipe hat without which it was hard to get hold of a man then). She did not slow down. But when she entered a rather dimly lit alley, I moved ahead, vampire-style, and expected her at a corner, casually lurking around as if I had every right to be there.
She was about to hurry past me when I spoke to her, putting my best glamoring look on. I was (and am) aware of the effect I have on women.
"And why would a lady like you be out alone at this hour?" I expected her to look at me all googly-eyed and give an answer, but she actually just looked pissed off.
"Oh, that's none of your goddamn business!", she said in that adorable London accent which would not quite fit her attire. How could she resist my glamor?
"Well, pardon me for asking where it is not my place to...", - " And a good evening to you to, sir"
She tried to push past me. Gotta admire that kind of resolution. This was going to be interesting.
I held her by the shoulders, stopping her dead.
"Wait, please. Look at me."
- "Why would I? Now get out of my way, I am promised to someone and it's not you. I know your kind, mister. "
I sneered. "I would not think so."
- "I am going to yell if you don't let go."
Indignantly, she finally looked me in the eye. I reached out for her mind and found one brick wall of a personality. So much determination! So mercurial! She had full, straight lips and large blue eyes. Her heart pulsed under my grip. Her breath was slowing as she was subjected to my influence.
"Don't worry. Everything is going to be alright." The classic glamoring. Comfort, assurance, warm fuzzy thoughts. She relaxed visibly and did not try to move again.
"What's your name?", I inquired.
- "Pamela. Pam."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear Pamela." I kissed her hand mockingly.
"Where were you heading in such a hurry?"
- "Home", she said with an empty glamored voice, but just that one word carried enough power in it to give it meaning, expression, liveliness. This young lady still had a home. I suppressed the envy that surged up in me, I was so past that. I was a successful entrepreneur and made a lot of money, I could buy myself any house or even castle I wanted to live in.
"Walk with me, Pamela."
I offered her my arm. She took it, and I steered her to a even darker section of the street. Coming up next: the feeding. My fangs were protruding already. I let go of the glamor a bit because I was distracted by her aorta. She snapped out of it and stared at me.
"What? Why are you still here? I thought I told you to-..."
I clasped a hand over her mouth and one around her neck and bit her. She screamed, not so much scared but hurt and angry and bit my hand in return. I like being bitten, so she was actually doing me favor though she probably did not mean to. It turned me on. I sucked, and sucked some more, delicious lifeforce running into me. She let go of my hand with her teeth and I felt the power gradually leaving her body.
She could not put up a fight anymore, but she was still there. I was about to drain her and take the last she had to offer, but then she whispered something. I listened again and stopped drinking, put my ear to her mouth.
"What was that, dear?"
- "You... bastard..."
I snorted with laughter. Why had I not taken my time with this one? I admired her spirit. She was most amusing. Her language did not fit her doll's face at all. Following a sudden instinct, I bit my wrist and gave her my blood. I really wanted to keep her. She was drinking my blood with great vigor, desperately holding onto her life. I gave her as much as I could until I started feeling dizzy.
"That's enough."
She clenched her teeth around my wrist and would not let go.
"I said, that's enough!"
Tearing my arm away from her, my flesh ripped, she was holding on so eagerly. I held her as she stumbled into my arms. She trembled all over.
- "Am... am I going to die now?"
"Yes, you are. But you will rise again."
- "What do you... mean..."
She lost consciousness, collapsing. I sweeped her up and took flight, twinkling city lights under me, receding.
I took her to a deserted graveyard in the outskirts of the city and dug a hole. Her pulse had stopped when I was finished, her body had lost warmth. Carefully, I laid her into her grave, straightened out her dress and folded her hands. She looked adorable, even dead.
Dawn was approaching and I had to hurry, casting earth upon her pale dollface. I was very curious to meet the new Pamela, but that would have to wait for another three nights, when the transformation would be complete. I dug myself into the earth beside her. When dawn sent me to sleep, I smelled the cold earth and her still human odor that clung to me, and I was smiling. I had made my first immortal companion.