Disclaimer: I own nothing.
This fic is loosely based on an ongoing RP on the site I co-own. It's a segment of short stories leading from the creation of my vampire on until the start of the RP (and possibly after). You can find the link to the RP site on my profile.
Waking Up - The First Night
He hardly paid any attention to where he was going. His mind swam in a dizzy haze, as he moved, faster than he could ever remember running before. When he eventually opened his eyes, it was to find everything around him starting to blur together. Not the way things did when you got teary-eyed, (and he wasn't going to cry damn it, he was way to awesome for that!) but like in a video game, or movie, when the character was moving at something closer to warp speed.
Upon this realization, he came to a sudden stop, his whole body jerking with the resulting force. He fell to the ground, skidding along the sidewalk, rolling. Hissing in pain, he pushed himself up, and glared at the ground, at his pale hand against the beige of concrete. It took him a moment, so focused on his pain, and the horrifying thoughts of going back and drinking his brother's blood, to realize he wasn't breathing.
Not in, or out.
His throat was closed, and no air could pass. His lungs didn't burn like they should and the only thing that started to make his chest rise and fall rapidly in an attempt to get air was his panic. He needed to breath, he told himself, as he laid on the sidewalk, hands at his throat, clawing at it, willing it to loosen and allow air through. Eventually, he tired himself out, his vision blurring with what he thought was lack of oxygen to his brain. He lay limp on the ground, waiting to pass out, and for death to take him. Neither happened.
What did happen, was a heightened awareness of himself and everything around him. No longer struggling, just laying and waiting, he could feel the pain in his leg all to well, but the injury on his neck no longer stung. He found that he couldn't feel his heart beat, even when he pressed against a pulse point, or just rested his hand on his chest. He obviously wasn't breathing, and try as he might, he didn't feel the resulting burn of asphyxiation.
He could hear things, smell things, that normally would have been lost to him. Cars moving, people walking, all far off. The smell of gasoline, filth and iron that generally surrounded a city were sickening to him now.
Click. Click.
Tilting his head, he could hear the sound of someone walking closer. In heels. He frowned, opening his eyes, and with sight so sharp he could make out details so tiny, even in daylight, right next to the object, he shouldn't have been able to see them.
Click, Click.
Pushing himself up, he turned his head towards the sound. Eyes focusing in on a pair of long pair of white legs. A pair of stiletto heels on small feet, a short skirt falling down to mid-thigh.
Rolling onto his stomach, and easily, for once, getting himself up to his full height, he locked his eyes on the woman. She wasn't tall, about a good foot shorter than him, with wild bushy red hair the color of fire. Her eyes were large and green, locked on her open cellphone. The glow of blue-white light from the device lit her pale face up, pointing out the freckles, and highlighting her small puglike nose, and thin lips. The sound of her heels on sidewalk was soon accompanied by something else. Like a roaring in his ears. A drum beat that made his mouth water, and his body tense. His gaze fell from her face, to her throat, the space between neck and shoulder, where her green blouse barely covered freckled skin.
She didn't notice him, and he hardly felt himself move. One minute, he was a good block away from her, and the next he was in front of her. His hands moving on their own, he grabbed her, and pinned her to wall of a building. She screamed, struggled, called for help.
There was none.
Just as there had been none for him.
Ignoring her flailing limbs, and barely feeling her fists hitting his back, sharp heels kicking at his legs. Only a mild shock of pain, when she hit his injured leg just right.
It wasn't enough, and his mouth opened, as he easily titled her head to the side, ear to shoulder. Bending down, his mouth opened, throat no longer closed. Savagely, without really feeling himself do it, not aware of it, he bit down. She screamed, so loud it echoed in the night air, high pitched and frantic. It couldn't pierce the roaring in his ears, though. The sound of her blood flowing, her pulse quick with fear.
The taste of iron hit his tongue, filled his mouth, and easily slid down his throat. The clenching pain in his stomach disappeared, the burn of thirst and hunger ebbed away into nothing. His eyes fluttered closed as he sucked, drawing more of that sweet taste, a moan forming in his chest and vibrating through his body. There was a bitter taste mixed into that sweetness. It nearly made him pull back, but the reprieve from that vicious hunger that had nearly caused him to attack his brother, was more than enough to keep him.
Her struggles weakened, till she went limp in his arms. Whole body stilling, slumping against him and the wall.
He drew away, licking his red lips, and relishing the warm feeling that flowed easily through his body. For a moment he didn't notice the woman, who no longer screamed and struck out. Who just fell to the ground when he let go, body strewn across the concrete like a crime-scene victim. Head limp, eyes opened, dull and lifeless, expression forever etched with fear and pain.
Eyes widening, he stumbled back, away from her. His balance didn't falter though, his leg no longer hurt from the dog's bite. His mind was clear, and his was all to aware of what he'd just done. One hand moved up, pressed through his lips, to run over his teeth. He pricked one on a lengthened fang. Wincing, he pulled his finger away, and watched as a dark bead of blood appeared. Sucking the finger back into his mouth, he licked at it, felt the wound close.
Vampire
The word echoed in his head, like the woman's scream had echoed in the night air. It was sour and sweet at the same time, dark and delicious, bitter like baking chocolate, but addictive like nicotine. Heady, and hot. He grinned to himself, thinking of what it meant.
No more work, he couldn't go in during the day, obviously. School was out too, unless he wanted to be home schooled, (Tch. Fat chance.) no more listening to his father (not that he did that often.). He was free, a creature of the night, no longer bound by mortal laws.
So high on the thought of what he had become, it wasn't until the sound of a phone ringing, that he realized just what he'd done. Blinking at the sound, as he came back to his senses, he stumbled away from the body. Gilbert had always been a bit of a troublemaker, certainly not the pride of his father's eye, but he had never done something like this.
What bothered him more, though, was not what he had done; but the fact that he felt no guilt for it. He didn't feel torn up, or regretful, he felt numb to the fact that he had just killed a random woman. Someone who most likely had a family, people who cared deeply about her, and would obviously miss her. For a moment, a flicker of guilt hit him, strong and heart wrenching, but fleeting and short lived. Brushing the feeling aside, he realized that staying where he was, would be a horrible, terrible idea. So, wiping at his face with the bottom of his shirt, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and left the scene. Pausing just long enough to check the woman's pockets, and taking the small amount of cash out of her wallet. He avidly avoided looking at her ID, lest it draw out the emotions he had no desire to, feel.
Pocketing the money, he turned and left her there, strewn on the sidewalk. He moved at a leisurely pace, not in the least bothered by his actions. The only thing that concerned him, he thought, was the idea that he was obviously a threat to Ludwig, and going home right now was probably not the best idea. Which meant, much to his displeasure, he would need to find some place to sleep for the day.
Despite his initial excitement, as he walked, he started to feel weary. He couldn't escape his thoughts as easily as he had hoped, and was soon greatly distressed with the idea that he could have so easily killed his Bruder. That what had happened to that girl, whose name he didn't want to know, had almost happened to Ludwig.
As he tried to think of where he could stay. What he could do. He decided that he couldn't return home. Not until he could figure out how to completely control himself. He wouldn't put his Bruder at risk. He didn't think he'd miss his dad much. His Vater and him didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, and he was sure he'd be an even bigger disappointment to the man now.
They'd never gotten along, and after his mother's death, the gap between them had grown worse. It wasn't a loss relationship Gilbert would mourn.
Shrugging those thoughts off, he found himself entering a club. Not a big and flashy one, like the ones he normally frequented. This one was smaller, and still on the wrong side of the tracks. The man at the door hardly looked at Gilbert as he went in. The air smelled like strong liquor, and the lights were dim enough that the stains on his skin and shirt didn't look as menacing as they were.
The music playing was loud, and bad, but after a few drinks, no one would be able to tell. He made his way to a table in the back, not sure if he even could drink beer. That would be a major disappointment, he very much liked the idea of getting drunk off his ass right now.
Much to his surprise, quite a few people took notice of his appearance. Eyes followed him, as he moved between tables and took a seat. Boring into him like heat lamps. He was even more surprised to find that most of those eyes belonged to women.
One, a particularly brave one, even came over to his table, and bought him a drink. The flirting started off awkwardly, as though she wasn't used to doing so. He could tell by the vibe she gave off, that she was normally a mouse. Probably new to the club scene, here with friends who had dragged her out. Bad choice in location, for one's first time. Even so, he accepted the drink, and returned the flirting. Letting himself focus on it, and not all the problems he had to deal with. They could wait.
Much to his pleasure, the taste of beer was the same as it had been the night before. It was refreshing and cold. He nursed the drink, while trading half hearted flirtations with the girl. She was pretty enough, but every time he looked at her, he saw flashes of red hair and freckles, which in turn led to the image of his Bruder standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Looking delectable, and far too much like the feast of the night.
She was a nice girl, though. Sweet smile, pretty amber eyes hidden behind thick rimmed glasses, and long brown hair in an odd twist. She smelled like roses. Not the real ones, but that false perfumy smell made to imitate them. Before, he never would have been able to tell the difference, now, it stood out obnoxiously. Like a foul stench trying to claim it was sweet.
By the time he'd finished his one drink, she'd had a few. Small, colorful, fruity things in oddly shaped glasses. Chick drinks.
Giggling, and leaning closer to him, not noticing anything off in the way he eyed her, "You should come home with me." She said. Trailing fingers up his arm, only wondering for a moment at how cold he felt. Why didn't he have a coat?
"Hm..." He watched, carefully, feeling her warm fingertips brush against his skin. "Don't know if you should be inviting me home, Schatzchen."
She giggled again, taking a sip of her fruity little drink, "Schatzchen? What is that?"
He smirked, "You should not invite men home, when you do not know them."
"I'm not worried about you."
"I could be dangerous,"
She paused for a moment, slightly unnerved by his intense red eyes, that were so bright they nearly glowed in the dim lights. Something about him though, drew out a side of her that she normally wouldn't have been able to find, and she was willing to do whatever that side said. "I don't think you are."
With those words, he followed her. More aware and alert than he'd been the night before. He followed her out of the club, and out to an apartment building a few blocks away. It was a run down structure, not very high class, not quite ghetto, but close enough. She led him up a several flights of stairs, and through a door, he didn't catch the number on it.
"Come on in," She said, tugging him inside. The moment he passed the threshold, her hands were in his hair, lips on his, one of her long slim legs hooked at his waist. She pressed against him, hot and sweet.
He returned her touches, her kisses, and grinding movements. It wasn't until something hot and coppery touched his tongue, that he felt her jerk her head away from his. One hand slid from his hair, and touched her lip, where blood beaded and started to dribble down her chin. When she pulled her hand away, she blinked at the liquid, not seeming to understand just what it was.
Then her smile returned, eyes flashing with something dark, and she was back on him. All he could think then, was that taste, that warmth. She moaned when he sucked the wounded lip into his mouth. A sound that vibrated through both their mouths. The moan turned into a scream, when he bit down.
She tried to pull away again, but his arms were around her now, and there was no where to go. Like with the girl on the sidewalk, he held this woman still, taking what he could get from her lips, before biting along her cheek and jaw. His teeth sunk into her throat, fangs sliding in like a hot knife in butter. Her screams were loud, heart wrenching, hands clawing and tugging and pushing.
Like the girl before her, she eventually stilled, and he let her drop. Unlike before, they were in a building, with people. Someone banged on a wall, and shouted at her to be quiet.
Standing over her, only feeling mildly sorry. He pulled her body further inside, shutting the door fully. Thankful that no one had been walking passed. With a few quick movements, he locked the door, and moved through the house, leaving her half in the living room, and half out.
The apartment was small, one bedroom, kitchen-living room combo, a small bathroom. There was a large window in the bedroom though, through it you could get to the fire escape. He knew right off that there would be too much light for him to sleep there.
Grabbing the pillows and blankets, he moved to the bathroom. Feeling exhaustion creeping up on him, he made himself comfortable on the floor of the tiny room, curling up between the shower and the toilet.
He woke up three times, that he could remember. The first two times were for the phone ringing. A annoying 'brrrrring' sound that seemed to echo in his head. His body felt heavy, and mind foggy, so he ignored it both times. The third time, he was much more alert, it still took him a minute to realize what it was that woke him, where he was, and the night before was a blur.
As he sat up, it all came rushing back. He remembered the girl on the sidewalk, the girl at the club. His hunger.
He was still hungry...
The sound that woke him up this time, was that of someone banging on the door. Not the bathroom door, thankfully. He pulled himself up, arching his back, and stretching his arms over his head. He took in a deep breath, smelling in chemical cleaners, and flowery soaps. Ignoring the banging on the front door, he gave himself a once over in the mirror, pleased to see his reflection was still there.
He looked like shit, he realized. Frowning, he washed his face off with cold water, and ran a wet hand through his dirty hair. A shower would be nice, he thought, but he didn't know how long he'd have before someone managed to get through that door. Even with the chain and added latch. So, he left the bath room, and moved to the bedroom.
Outside was dark, the sun had set recently according to a clock on the wall. He went through the girl's things, and found a few stashes. Some of money, some of less legal things. Pocketing them all, he left via the fire escape.
He paused when he reached the ground. Looking up at the window he'd left through. A momentary pang of guilt hit. It faded quickly, and he wandered off, wondering where he could go to get cleaned up.