A few minutes later, he walked out of the alley, licking the blood from his lips. He felt stronger now, and knew what he was. A vampire. He had a good idea of it earlier, but hadn't wanted to face it just yet. But he didn't know how he had gotten like this. Something tickled and shifted in the back of his mind. He could remember how he had gotten like this, just not at the moment. A face floated in front of his mind's eye, but the features were so obscure, he couldn't see who it was. Just that this person had black hair, and he sensed this person was female and responsible for what he was now. Merton shook his head and the face disappeared.

            He ran though what he already knew about himself. Good eyesight and night vision, fast reflexes, the ability to sense a heartbeat and body heat, and of course, the fangs. Maybe he should start keeping a book, a journal of sorts, about this? Merton nodded to himself, it sounded like a good plan, he had done the same thing with Tommy, and it had helped. Merton felt a wave of sadness at the thought of his friend. He wondered what Tommy was doing now that he was quote, unquote, "gone".

"I'll have to check on him." Merton thought, as he headed towards home.

            He showed up at the back door to the lair in record time. "Better add very fast to the list." he whispered, glancing at his watch. It had taken him five minutes to get there; normally it took about twenty. He opened the door and let it swing open. He stared at what used to be his room. "Wonder if I can get in?" he thought, leaning forward and all but tripping in. "That answers that question." he said, quickly regaining his balance.

Yeah, the book was starting to sound better by the minute.

He went to the bookshelf, grabbed a blue bound book, flipping though it to make sure it was blank (it was) and then grabbed a pen. Sitting at his desk, with a look at his computer to see the date, he began to write.

November 3rd, 2001

10: 30 pm

            My name is Merton J Dingle, I'm eighteen old, and three days ago I died. About half an hour ago, I dug myself out of my own grave. I am now sitting in my room and writing down what has happened to me so far.

Merton went on to describe what had happened on the way home.

            I'm a vampire. The walking undead. Hopefully I don't go all Angel, but if I meet a Slayer like Sara Michelle Gellar, it might be worth it.

Merton laughed at that. "Right, I should be so lucky." he snorted. Merton wrote for a moment more and then put the book away in a desk drawer. Merton stood up and went upstairs; he wanted to see how his family was doing.

            He walked though the kitchen, the smell of cooked food assaulting his nostrils. On the way upstairs, he could hear three different heartbeats. He looked in on his parents first. His dad was holding his mom in his sleep and both looked like they had cried themselves to sleep. Merton felt a pang of grief and shut the door quietly behind him. He hated to see them sad. He opened the door to Becky's room and found her curled up on her bed. Merton stepped into her room and glided towards her bed. He could see the tears drying on her cheeks and gently wiped them off. He then saw that she was clutching one of his shirts in her hands. "Stupid Freaker, had to die on me." she sniffed in her sleep.

            Merton sighed sadly. Besides Tommy, Becky was the one person he never wanted to hurt. He ran a hand through Becky's hair. "I'm sorry Becky." he whispered in her ear, kissing her on the cheek, the taste of salt and a little mascara and eyeliner hitting his tongue. He tucked her blankets around her, went to her open window, and stepped out onto the roof. Merton stepped up to the edge of the roof and jumped off.