A/N
Welp. Here's something I'll never continue.
Enjoy!
...
The more time passes, the less Vi remembers what her life was like before she became a vampire. It's gut-wrenching, really. Because everything that comes after—-those, she can remember with a crisp quality. But back when she could breathe, stand in the sunlight, and eat? No, those have faded away. They're less of a memory and more of a feeling. Like a smudge, in the distance.
She doesn't know how Powder deals with it.
Then again, seeing the way Powder is acting, Vi doubts Powder is dealing with anything at all. It doesn't help that the House of Zaun's leader, Silco, has taken an interest in her. Vi tried to stop her from joining, tried to reason with her. That night, she told Powder, "If you become one of them, one of those filthy, awful people, then, then—-" She tried to restrain herself, but Powder pushed her.
"Then what?" Asked Powder, her eyes glassy but her jaw set. "What will you do?"
"I'll—-" Vi swallowed, her shoulder sagging as she looked away. "I'll never see you again."
Powder became still. "You don't mean that."
"Yes," said Vi, "I do."
To this day, she regrets it. Especially listening to the tales of Jinx—-the craziest, most vicious vampire. Silco's right hand. His knight in bloody armor.
And Vi—-well, Vi is all alone. Going through the motions. Watching the new wonders of the world with disinterest.
She applies to college, sometimes. Less because she's interested in the education, but more because she's interested in its lifestyle. To be a vampire with a body as young as her means she has to keep up with the trends. Adopt the right manner, speak the right slang.
But nowadays, people seem to dress however they please. There's no real trend. Which means her styling herself with a 70s gear is alright. Hell, she even gets a couple of compliments from others. They say she's retro, that she's old-school.
Ha. If only they knew the truth.
…
Drinking blood is a complicated thing.
The older, more powerful vampires considers it a ritual, a feast, something to be proud of. The younger ones—-those who still believe they're human—-is disgusted with the act, and prefers to drink blood supplies from hospitals and clinics, despite it being less fulfilling. Vi once heard of a vampire who refused to drink blood of any kind, and starved himself in his wrong notion of rightness. The plan ended up backfiring when his starvation caused him to go feral, and robbed the blood of six humans until they died.
Vi sees it as a necessary evil. If she had a choice, she would never have done it. But well, she doesn't. So here she is.
One thing she tries to do is to make it enjoyable—-or at least as unhurtful as possible. See, once a vampire's fangs sink into the flesh of a human, and once the vampire begins to feed off of them, the vampire injects a memory-wiping spell onto the human. It's the smallest form of magic, designed as a defense mechanism. What it means is, so long as you do it right, the victim won't remember a thing, especially not the pain.
What Vi does is go to a bar. Flirt with someone. Take them to a private space. Kiss them in any way they want to be kissed. Bite them in a playful way. Then in a real way.
That way, all anyone would remember is that they've had too much to drink, and too much of a good time.
…
It's true that Vi stays in college to blend in. But it's also more than that.
There's something about the young women who go there. Their eyes bright, their faces curious. An adult by every means, and yet also still a child. It reminds her of Powder.
Vi banishes the thought before it can fully form.
The bar she's in is supposedly popular. Why, she can't tell. The strobe lights hurt her eyes. The music is godawful. And the drinks taste like piss.
Vi takes a sip of it anyway, leaning her back against the counter, eyeing everyone. A young man flailing his arms about. A girl grinding against presumably her boyfriend.
Another girl, shuffling her way through the drunken crowd, her shoulders hunched and her lips pursed.
Vi eyes her through the rim of the glass. Interesting, she thinks.
The girl, who looks to be in her early twenties, pushes through the crowd, cupping her hands around her mouth to shout something. A name, most likely. Then, much to Vi's delight, the arms-flailing man from before stumbles towards the girl, grinning and gesturing to the dance floor. The girl says something to him, her face pinched, but the man pouts at her, and pleads his case.
After a beat, the girl sighs, says something, and the man throws his fists up as he cheers.
The man disappears deeper into the dancing floor, leaving the girl alone to helplessly stand. She takes a step towards it, then backs away, and walks towards the counter, sitting three stools away from Vi.
She shouts something at the bartender, but he doesn't listen. Before she can order for herself, Vi slides in next to her, and, after winking at the girl, orders them both wine. At the girl's offended look, she says, "Trust me, it's the least shitty drink in this place."
With a clink and a thud, their drinks appear before them.
The girl grabs the glass, and swallows a mouthful. She chokes, and crinkles her nose. "But this tastes awful."
"Exactly," says Vi, clinking their glasses together and downing her drink in three large gulps. A vampire can't get drunk, but she wants to sell the act.
…
The girl's a tough shell to crack, but Vi is nothing if not stubborn.
She learns that her name's Caitlyn, and she's a long way from home—-which explains her accent. She tells Vi she's here because her campus offers a great electro-engineering program, but there's more to it than that. It's in the way she goes quiet when talking about her parents, and the way she tips her chin up when talking about her high grades, plus the extra-curriculars she took in high school. Caitlyn is more than meets the eyes.
Not that Vi's interested.
One thing leads to another, and they're renting a hotel room—"The one with the biggest bed, please," says Caitlyn—and then their bodies are tangled in sheets, and Vi's kissing her and Caitlyn's kissing her back, and their worlds are consumed by lust and want and need and greed. And Vi's face is in-between Caitlyn's legs and Caitlyn's pleading and pleading and then she's moaning, her body freezing before she lies down.
Vi lies next to her, watching as she drifts off to sleep, realising that she wants her.
She really wants her.
It's not the first time this has happened. Vi's wanted so many girls for such a long time. But she's never allowed herself to reel it in. She banishes away the feelings before it grows large and dangerous and envelops her chest like a witch's spells.
And yet she lets herself tuck a damp strand of dark hair away from Caitlyn's face. Allows her thumb to graze over her lips.
What would Vi do, if she could be with Caitlyn?
Order breakfast in bed in the morning. Talk more about themselves. Wonder why they haven't seen each other despite going to the same college. Exchange contacts. Go on more dates. Become official. Meet their friends. Have their downs. Then their ups. Meet their family. Nurture something real, something profound. Something that'll change them forever.
Vi sighs, lowering herself down. Nuzzling her nose into Caitlyn's jaw. Feels the faint thump-thump-thump of her pulse. Presses a light kiss there. Then another one.
Her fangs sink in.
Her blood is sweet. Like a cupcake, her delirious mind thinks.
Her fangs sink in deeper. And deeper. And deeper.
And something shifts, like a crack of a glass breaking, or a lightning.
And then Vi's pulling away, gasping, pressing a shaky finger over her bloodied fang, cursing herself. Before she can think about what she's done, she bolts away in the vain hopes that she can ignore what happened.
But the truth refuses to stay away from her.
And so, tomorrow, in the hallway, Caitlyn finds her, strides up to her, and pushes her so hard Vi falls, screaming, "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?!"
…
Vi didn't expect that kind of a reaction. Especially not from someone so calm, so collected, so brainy.
It's not like she can blame her, though.
The other students have gathered a circle, watching this unfold with curious eyes. A dude even pulls out his phone to record.
"HEY! ANSWER ME!" shouts Caitlyn from above her. Vi readjusts her jacket, pursing her lips. Caitlyn grits her teeth, then walks over towards her, and tugs her collar up. "ANSWER ME, YOU—YOU—"
"I think," says Vi, grabbing Caitlyn's wrist with an iron grip, "we should talk about this somewhere more private."
Caitlyn narrows her eyes at Vi, then looks around. The guy who's been recording pulls up his phone and pretends to be typing. Huffing, Caitlyn drags Vi up, and pulls her away.
Despite Vi's superior strength, she lets her.
…
"A vampire."
"Yeah."
"You're saying that I…"
"Yeah."
"That you made me…"
"... yeah."
Caitlyn sits down on the chair, pushing her hair out from her face. Her hand slides down to her neck, at the spot where Vi bit her. "Does that… mean I have to drink blood?"
Vi, who's been leaning against the door of Caitlyn's room, looks away. "Yeah."
"And that… I'll live forever."
Vi nods.
A strangled sob tears out of Caitlyn's throat. She curls down on her chair, looking like a child as she buries her face in her hands. "Oh, God."
Vi tips her head down, trying not to think of her reaction when she got turned. The shock, the denial. The anger at who turned her.
But with Caitlyn, there's no anger. At least, none as fiery and consuming as Vi's. She looks at Vi with a glare, and asks, "Why? Why would you do this?"
"I… didn't mean to."
Caitlyn's eyes grow wide. "You didn't—?" She chokes back a laughter. "You didn't mean to?" She stands up from her chair so fast it falls down. "So, what? It was all just some huge mistake, then?!"
Vi winces, because, yeah, that's exactly what it was.
"Unbelievable," says Caitlyn, her shoulders slumping. "Un-fucking-believable."
She sits down on the edge of her bed, tucking her knees to her chest, staring down at the carpeted floor.
Vi should leave her. Caitlyn deserves some privacy after the bomb she'd dropped on her.
But she can't. Not yet. Not until she says something that'll comfort Caitlyn, or at least calm her down.
"Look," she starts, hating the uncertainty in her tone, "it's… it's not as bad as you think." Caitlyn doesn't respond. Taking a chance, Vi sits down next to her on the bed. "Yeah, the blood stuff is…" Inhumane, horrifying, gruesome. "It's weird, and the living-forever part isn't all sunshine and rainbows, but… you'll get used to it. You'll learn to live with it. Even if you're not exactly alive."
Caitlyn doesn't react. She wouldn't even look at her.
Vi sighs.
Well. She tried.
Vi crosses the room and pulls the door open, only to pause, a new thought sinking it. "Caitlyn," she says, looking over her shoulder, "have you drank any blood yet?"
Caitlyn looks up at her, her eyes red-rimmed and her brows pulled together. "What?"
"Blood. Please tell me you've had some."
"N-no," she says. "No way. I'm not going to—"
"Caitlyn, listen." Vi turns around to face her better. "New vampires are—they have to have blood."
"I don't think I can—"
"You'll go feral if you don't," says Vi. "You'll—you'll become an animal, and your most basic instincts will take over and it—it's not a good thing." Vi swallows, and squares her shoulder. "We've got to get you blood."
Without thinking, she grabs Caitlyn's wrist, and drags her out of the room.
"Wha—? Right now?!"
"Yes," replies Vi. The sooner they do this, the better. The last thing anyone wants is a newly-turned vampire in feral mode.
…
They walk around campus, with Vi offering Caitlyn dozens of suggestions—"that guy, right there, if you play it right, it'll be a breeze" "hey, that one over there looks like she's down for a good time"—and Caitlyn rejecting each and every one of them.
Vi should be patient with her, but after her one hundredth rejection, she can't take it anymore. "Look, I don't like this either, but we've got to get you blood. Fast."
Caitlyn looks pale, paler than a normal vampire. Her eyes keep drifting towards humans, zeroing in their necks. She licks her lips, then blinks when her tongue meets her fang. She touches them, dazed. "I…"
Vi grabs her forearm. "You won't hurt them." Not that much, at least. "I'll help you through it."
Caitlyn shrugs off her hand. "But isn't there… isn't there, I don't know—" she throws her arms to her sides "—a place that keeps blood? Like, you know, from medical centers—they have blood supplies, right?"
Vi purses her lips. "It's not the same." To drink blood straight out of a human's neck is like a full meal. And to drink it from a blood bag is like a snack.
But Caitlyn's eyes are wide with hope. "But I can do that, can't I?"
It won't have the same effect. She'll still have to feed off of a human. But for now… "Yes. You can." It'll give Caitlyn more time to get used to the fact that she's changed. And who knows, maybe if she's used to drinking blood from a bag, it'll be easier for her to get used to drinking from a person's neck.
"What are we waiting for, then?!" asks Caitlyn, leaning towards Vi, her mask slipping away, showing how much blood she craves.
Swallowing, Vi says, "Alright, let's get you your blood." She leads Caitlyn into a hospital, the one she knows is influenced by vampires. She eyes a couple of the nurses, then spots one that's a vampire, and slips him a couple of bucks, telling him, "I've got a new one."
The nurse looks at Caitlyn, shrinking into herself and twitching her eyes, and frowns. "Shouldn't she be getting real blood, then?"
"She's… difficult."
His eyes widen. "Ah. I see."
He gives them a suitcase full of blood bags, enough to last Caitlyn a week if she's smart, and Vi leads her into Caitlyn's room, giving her basic tips about how to drink blood straight out of a bag. Caitlyn's hesitant, at first, but as soon as the blood meets the tips of her fangs, she drains the bag in record time. She reaches for the suitcase, and Vi has to stop her by grabbing her wrists. "No. Not yet."
"But—"
"You've gotta learn to be patient, alright?" Some new vampires weren't taught this by whoever turned them. Hell, some new vampires don't have guidance at all. And what that means is that they go around draining everyone dead, over and over, and they keep doing that until it's a habit. Until they don't know how to not do that. Vi doesn't want Caitlyn to end up like them. "Trust me. It'll be better for you in the long run."
Caitlyn keeps eyeing the suitcase, but her eyes flicker over to Vi's long enough for her to say, "Alright. I'll try."
And that's all Vi can hope for.
…
Vi opens the door to find a figure perched on her windowsill.
"Jesus Christ, Sevika!" she yells, placing a hand on her undead heart. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!"
Sevika smirks, her cigarette twisting around her teeth. She pulls it out, blows out a ring of smoke, then asks, "Is it true?"
"Is what true?" asks Vi stiffly.
Sevika's eyes widen. She lowers her cigarette. "Holy shit, it is." A cruel grin spreads around her face. "I can't believe it. Vander's daughter turned someone."
"Shut up."
But Sevika, being Sevika, refuses to do so. "I can't wait to see how this plays out."
"What do you want, Sevika?"
Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette, polluting Vi's room with a shade of gray. "To know for sure if the rumors are true."
Sevika works for Silco. Which means there's a chance that Powder knows about this too. Vi wonders what she thinks. Then she decides she doesn't care. "Well, now you know, so—" she nods to the door "—fuck off."
Sevika eyes her. Takes one last inhale of her cigarette before pushing the end against Vi's windowsill, spreading tiny ash everywhere. "Don't screw it up."
Vi blinks. She thinks back to the dozens of newly-turned vampires who've gone off the rails, even with good guidance. Even Powder, despite how much Vi tried to help, didn't turn out so great. Because, no matter how much they pretend otherwise, vampires are monsters. They're monsters who feed off of humans. And the least they could do is tamp their urges away, and let it out in an environment they can control.
And it's not an easy task—tamping down what makes them who they are.
"I won't," Vi says.
Smoke trails off of Sevika's mouth when she says, "Good."
And then, as quick as lightning, she jumps out of Vi's window, leaving Vi to clean up the mess she's made.
God, she hates her.
…
Caitlyn wakes up to knocking. Loud, insistent knocking.
Groaning, she buries her face into her pillow, thinking of what she should eat for breakfast. Omelet has always been her go-to option, what with it being the healthiest, but she can never deny cereal.
Wait.
Oh, right.
She's a vampire now. She can't eat.
Well, she can, but it's not the same. It's like eating air; you can do it, but it won't do you any good.
"Caaaaaitttt!" Jayce says from the other end of the door. "C'moooon! Wake uuuuup!"
"'M already 'wake," she mumbles.
"Whaaaaat?"
"I said I'm already awake," she says, louder, something dark building behind her throat. Before she can comprehend it, a wave of hunger—not just hunger, but craving—swallows her up, and she gasps, staggering out of her bed, and down onto the floor with a thud.
"Caitlyn?" asks Jayce. "You okay in there?"
"Fine!" she says, her voice shaky and dry and cracked; the definition of not fine.
"Are you sure?"
"It's—" She thinks of blood, red, pain. "It's that time of the month!"
A small pause, and an even smaller: "Oh."
"So, if you could please kindly just—" her fangs begin to protrude, and she has to speak around it, making her sound as if she's wearing braces. "Just leave me alone, for now, alright?!"
Another pause. "Alright," Jayce replies. "But we are going to talk about what happened yesterday." She hears the sound of his footsteps fading away, louder than they should be. Then again, everything is louder than it should be, ever since she got bit.
Wait, what does he mean what happened yesterday? Does he know about—
Oh, right. Her assaulting Vi. That must be what he's talking about.
Caitlyn sighs, her nerves calming down before another wave of blood-craving—stronger than before—hits her. She gasps, and curls in on herself. Then, her nose picks up on something. A scent.
Blood.
From the suitcase.
She grabs it, and sucks one bag dry. But it's not enough. The bags have never been enough.
What should be enough is the ones outside, traveling through people's veins. They should be delicious. Amazing. Satisfying.
No.
She can't let herself become a monster.
But she has to do something, something to stave off her craving.
Before she knows it, her sanity slips away from her.
…
When she comes to, her floor is a mess of torn-off bags and drips of blood, and her face is the same way.
The suitcase is empty.
She's still hungry.
Caitlyn curls up on the floor, trying to disappear.
…
That night was too good to be true.
It started off bad, with Jayce pleading for her to come with him to this bar because he heard Viktor would be there. She tried to reason with him, telling him there was no way someone as introverted as Viktor would come to that kind of a place. But Jayce pouted, and pouted, and pouted, and then there she was, surrounded by drunk idiots doing their best imitation of a dance. Alone and miserable.
And just when she was about to label this night as one of her most horrible nights, there was Vi. Suave and sarcastic and charming in her dry way and, despite her appearance, knowledgeable. Asking questions about Caitlyn that suggested she was interested in more than Caitlyn's looks. Sweeping Caitlyn off her feet like something out of a fairy tale.
It was too good to be true.
She should've known better.
No one would ever see Caitlyn like that. Not really.
And now here she is, pushing down things she's never felt before—white-hot, dizzying, and addicting—wishing it was all a dream.
And then, knocking. Soft, uncertain, but firm.
Vi.
Anger surges through Caitlyn.
Her fault. All of this. It's her fault.
She should pay.
With strength she didn't realize she has, Caitlyn marches right to her door, yanks it open, and drags Vi inside. In a semblance of lucidness, she closes the door and locks it, before launching herself at Vi, feral and monstrous and unthinking.
And despite it all, Vi doesn't fight back. She dodges Caitlyn's attack, but she never attacks back. All she does is circle Caitlyn with controlled speed, grab a long-sleeved shirt, and use it as a makeshift rope to tie Caitlyn's wrists together.
Just like that, Caitlyn's subdued.
She yells at Vi. Keeps on yelling at her. Things that are true, such as: "This is all your fault! You turned me into this!" And things that she's not sure are true, such as: "I hate you! I wish you were dead! You're a monster! A monster, you hear me!"
Vi remains silent throughout the whole deal, strengthening Caitlyn's wrist binding with another pair of cloth, before tying her body into a chair. She waits until Caitlyn's stopped talking before telling her, "I'll be right back."
Caitlyn's eyes widen. "No, no, wait—"
Then, the door's closing, and Caitlyn's alone with her thoughts. Her dark, twisted thoughts. Threatening to consume her, suffocate her, like black smoke.
Your parents don't know what happened. And it's better that they don't. The same thing goes for Jayce. For everyone you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved. You can't build real connections with other humans. You shouldn't even call them "other" humans. You're not human anymore. You're not human. No, you're their predator. You're what they fear.
She doesn't need to breathe, and yet she inhales air like it's cocaine. She can't seem to stop.
You're a monster. A monster who feeds off of humans, drains their souls. You're not one of them, and you never will be. Not anymore.
She thinks of her last day as a human. How utterly dull it was. She wishes she'd done more. Eat more food, drink more drinks. Explore more. Appreciate the beauty of sunlight. Because, while it doesn't hurt her, it now feels off. Everything feels off. More muted, and yet more saturated. She's not sure she'll ever get used to it.
She can hear Vi's voice, sultry, teasing, as she speaks to someone. Someone who's heartbeat is fastening. Then, the door opens and there is Vi, Vi with a boy. A boy who looks like he's enjoying himself until she catches Caitlyn's eyes.
But before he can so much as say a word, Vi's pushing him into a wall and draining his blood. And the sight makes Caitlyn lick her lips.
The boy tries to fight her off, but his struggles grow weaker and weaker before he slumps. Then Vi's fangs pull away from his skin, and Vi's pushing him into Caitlyn, telling her, "Do it slowly."
But Caitlyn won't. She can't.
She sucks him dry, greedy, unthinking, like she's slurping smoothie instead of someone's blood, and god. God. It's dizzying in the best way. It makes every dead nerve in her body light up. And for a moment, she feels like herself again. Her true self.
She feels human.
But then Vi's pulling him away from her, and she tries to reach for him again, but she can't, she's tied up, and Vi's pushing his unconscious body onto her bed, pressing her fingers into his neck.
She's checking for his pulse.
And just like that, Caitlyn snaps out of her reverie. "Oh my god, did I—"
"No, no," says Vi. "He's alive."
Caitlyn blinks. Blinks again.
She slumps back into her chair, her head lolling down. "What is wrong with me?"
"You're a new vampire. And you refused to drink blood."
"But… but I did, though, the blood bags—"
Vi meets her eyes. "It's not the same."
No. It isn't.
…
Vi undresses the boy, leaving him bare-chested and in his boxers. She cleans up the bloody mess Caitlyn's made. She offers to help, but Vi waves her off, telling her to get her bearings together. Caitlyn does her best to do just that, but it's hard. She's not craving blood anymore—not like before, at least—but it's sinking in. It's really sinking in. She's a vampire.
God, she's a vampire.
Vi steps back and admires her work, then messes up Caitlyn's sheets and blankets. When Caitlyn protests, she says, "This way, the dude will think he had such a good time with you he forgot everything about it."
Caitlyn eyes the boy. "Yes, well, I don't think my friends will believe that."
"Why not?"
"I'm not exactly… attracted to the opposite sex."
Vi raises an eyebrow. "That a fancy way of saying you're gay?"
Caitlyn's cheeks turn hot. Vi snorts. Then the mirth from her face disappears, and she crosses her arms. "Look, I know you hate me, but I can't leave you alone. It won't be good for you or for anyone else. I've got to keep an eye on you."
"I'm not a baby."
"Yeah, actually, you are." Vi cocks her head. "You're newly-turned. That means all the hunger, the moodiness, the messiness that us regular vampires feel—" she points a thumb at her chest, then at Caitlyn "—you're gonna feel it tenfold."
Caitlyn's face falls. "You mean what happened today, it… it will keep on happening?"
"It might," says Vi. "We don't know. And that's why I have to keep an eye on you. As much as possible."
"And how do you propose we do that?"
"Well, we go to the same campus already, so…" Vi looks down, stubbing the sole of her shoe into the floor. "Why don't we become roommates?"
