Chapter 2
It had been five years since I woke up for the last time. Five years of living a life that could not truly be called living. The first year was the hardest. The most painful. I killed a lot of people that first year. My first was the hiker in the woods where I woke from my burning. With this brain of mine that was capable of so many functions, so many thoughts at once, I could remember every one of the others just as clearly. Too bad I couldn't remember my life before burning as well.
I wasn't even sure what I was. I thought maybe a vampire. But sunlight didn't kill me. I got all sparkly like a diamond or crystal in the sun. That was my first suicide attempt. I was very disappointed. I'd run out into this huge patch of sunlight, thinking to end my torment, only to shine with all the colors of the rainbow. My skin was impenetrable, hard as granite, so no stake to the heart. I had tried that once, too. Imagine my surprise when the tree branch I had so carefully sharpened to a point splintered in a million pieces when I tried to ram it through my chest. And I was fast. My movements were instantaneous. I could run at unimaginable speeds and never get tired or winded. I tried running myself into the side of a cliff once. I made a very big cave.
I also had a conscience. I didn't want to prey on humans. I slipped up a lot that first year, though. The bloodlust was uncontrollable at first. But once I realized what my body needed, I started trying to get it from animals instead of humans. Their blood did quench the thirst, but not nearly as well as human blood did. I learned to stop breathing and run in the opposite direction if I detected even a hint of human scent in the air.
But I thought vampires lost that conscience, lost their humanity. I thought it was why I couldn't remember anything about myself; my previous life; my name, how I came to be burning in those woods to begin with. I assumed, based on my apparent previous knowledge of vampires, that I must have been bitten by one. But why bite me then leave me? And it still didn't explain why sunlight didn't burn me and why feeding on humans bothered me, so I was still not sure if "vampire" was the right word for what I was. Another thing, I found I could move things just by willing them to move. I'd discovered this by accident. After my second human victim, I was so furious at myself and at the hiker who was in the wrong place at the wrong time that I wished, very forcefully, for him to be far away from me. His body suddenly zoomed off through the trees. It made quite a mess on the way. All I had heard, all my previous knowledge of vampires, said nothing of extra powers. I really didn't understand.
It was strange how I remembered some things. Like the "rules" for vampires, or that I had ever even had another life but this one, but nothing at all about who I was or how I got to those woods in the first place. I could, however, remember everything from the time of my burning forward; every victim's face. And I never slept, never needed to sleep. I wished sometimes that I could sleep. Maybe then something would come back to me. Something would surface though my subconscious. Maybe then I could remember.
I started wandering after my first year. The human temptation had gotten easier to resist. I was lonely. There had to be others out there like me. I stuck to the woods for a while, not trusting myself in the human world yet. I finally decided to venture out into a town I had discovered, going in the cover of darkness. The darkest darkness, the night of a new moon. The town was quiet. I could smell the humans, safely indoors, so they thought. I could have easily broken in and attacked any of them, but I was able to resist. I was very proud of myself for that. I wanted to know where I was. It was my main reason for coming into town. I also needed something else to wear. My clothes were barely hanging on my body as it was. Sometimes dinner got feisty.
This was where I discovered my other strange power. I started listening to the voices inside the houses, trying to learn about the place I had found myself in. I was concentrating very hard, trying to determine everything I could about the speakers. That was when I realized I could hear their thoughts as well as the spoken words. It just made me twice as determined not to slip up again. I shuddered at the thought that I would be able to hear my next unintended victim's dying thoughts.
That first town was in Canada. Which confused me. Was I Canadian, then? I didn't think so. I must have traveled farther than I thought.
I moved about like this for the next four years. I stuck mainly to the forests, going in to the towns when I became curious about my location. I avoided the cities. There was just too much night time activity in the cities. With my lack of company, I was beginning to feel less civilized. I barely bothered with clothes any more. I still covered the important parts. Some ingrained modesty that not even the isolation of the forests could banish from me. Besides, what if I did happen along someone? I still clung to that hope that I was not alone.
And so this was where I found myself, five years after my transformation. I knew it had been five years by the cycling of the moon and the changing of the seasons. My mind was easily able to keep track of things like that. I was in Oregon. At least I assumed I was still in Oregon. I didn't think I had traveled far enough from the last town to have crossed state lines. It was cloudy. It rained a lot here. I had just brought down a big mountain lion, my favorite prey, when the wind shifted and I smelled them. Two of them. Their scent was unlike anything I had smelled before. It was not human or animal, it was like a combination of scents, all pleasant, but still frighteningly unfamiliar. And yet, close to my own smell. I froze.
"The scent leads this way, Jimmy." A male voice was saying. It was the most beautiful voice I had ever heard, nothing like a human's harsh sounding words. It was melodic, pleasant to my oversensitive ears,"I don't recognize her scent. Who could she be? Why didn't she try and contact us before hunting? Wait, I can hear her now."
I crouched over my prey. Some insane baser instinct told me they might try to steal it. The lion was mine. They were not going to take it from me. A sound vibrated up from my chest, through my throat and out as a ferocious growl. Then they emerged from the trees.
I remained where I was, snarling and spitting, refusing to give up my prey. There were two men. One was tall. His hair was blonde and cut short. His face was smooth, perfect. Everything was in perfect proportion, from the slant of his nose to the shape of his brow.The other one was slightly shorter with hair so dark it was almost black. His face was so beautiful. It was the most beautiful face I had ever seen, with high cheek bones, perfectly straight nose, and a strong jaw line. Both men had the same golden yellow eyes with the same purplish bruising underneath. Their skin was pale white. I recalled how I had once caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror while in one of the many towns I passed through. The image that was reflected back at me that day matched these mens' faces. I had the same eyes, the same purplish bruisings, the same skin color. I had finally found others of my kind, or rather, they had found me. And I was terrified.