Chapter 3: Awakenings

"Birth was the death of him." – Samuel Beckett

The sunlight hurt my eyes, even the very little escaping from the drawn curtains. Just a slender fissure and I turned weakly away from it. I felt tired and empty inside, not so much hungry as just ... empty. My skin was cold and clammy and the light seemed to crawl across my flesh. I trembled and wondered if this wasn't DT, the withdrawl eating away at my brain. I hadn't fixed since I'd seen Vin and I had no idea how long ago that had been.

I didn't think I was really addicted to the smack, but I could have been. I'd done that shit on and off for three years, basically every chance I got, but that wasn't every day, or even every week. I'd never had the insatiable craving I'd seen in some of the whores walking Pike Street after midnight. And did I want it now? I didn't know. I wanted something though. I had to have something, and I pulled the sheet over my head trying to figure out what it was.

She'd bitten me.

How had I forgotten that? I jerked upright, ignoring the shaft of light as it burned my eyes. Like staring into a welder's torch, everywhere I turned. I looked around the room, blinking between my fingers as I covered my face and searched for her. For the woman who knew my real name. I'd forgotten that too. But it was coming back to me. Making love to her, letting her hold me, feeling her teeth slipping into my neck and floating on the rain.

I ran to the mirror on shaky legs. It was like my whole body was asleep. I tingled with pins and needles and I almost fell, but I didn't, and I leaned on the sink, staring in the dim light. There was nothing there. No reflection of myself and I blinked, reaching for the light switch. There was still nothing and I reached my hand to the glass, touching it, but there were no fingers beneath mine. Only the room behind me.

"Strange, isn't it?" Angela's voice made me jump. She was standing behind me, invisible in the mirror like I was. "There's no scientific explanation," she shrugged. "But then again, I've never looked very hard for one either."

"What did you do to me?" I whispered, wanting to sit down, but unwilling to move. I just stared at the empty mirror.

"Come back to bed," the woman said softly, reaching out to touch my shoulder and I jerked, but didn't pull away. "It's too early for us, especially for you."

"For me," I repeated dully, rolling my head on my shoulders. "Am I dead?" I turned to look at her finally and I thought I might cry. I wanted to, not for any real specific reason, but just because I was so confused, so frightened. "Am I dead?"

"You were dead." Angela looked into my eyes, pulling me to her breasts in a tender hug. She smoothed my hair and kissed my cheek. "You were dead for a long time."

We went to bed and we made love with our mouths. Just kissing beneath the sheet, in that comforting shadow. My hands moved along her smooth back, tracing the length of her spine while Angela did much the same with me. Our legs were entwined and I hunched my sex against her thigh, grinding myself as the fear gave way to passion and the two emotions were so similar as to be indistinct. I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

When I bent my mouth to her nipple, Angela cautioned me gently and I realized that I'd bitten her without thinking. I tasted her blood and it was surprisingly cool and almost bitter. I lifted my face and ran my tongue along my teeth, surprised to find that I had needle-like fangs, long and sharp, unbelievably sharp and I cut myself on them, drawing blood from my tongue.

And that blood, it made me shudder and I pressed myself closer to the woman. It was almost what I wanted, I thought, but not quite. It was ... wrong somehow. It was like some newfound instinct was rising within me. I buried my face between Angela's breasts while she squeezed my ass, pulling me against her thigh. She was rocking me gently, kissing the top of my head.

"You're hungry. I know," she whispered. "You have to wait until dark, then we'll go."

"It hurts," I said, clinging to the woman.

"I know."

Nightfall came slowly, much too slowly for me. I had some small memories of Christmas as a child, before my parents had died, and I'd tried to forget them. I'd tried to forget everything about my life up to that day, but now they were back. This waiting for the sun to go down reminded me of waiting for Christmas. I felt that same edge of excitement, cutting my patience to shreds. It was torture and I wished I could sleep.

Angela had gone to sleep, holding me and smiling peacefully. She didn't move, not even to breathe, just as she'd been in the car in that parking garage. Her skin was cool, although she'd been warm enough during our sex. My own breathing was slow and deliberate seeming and I'd experimented, holding my breath, and found I could do it as long as I desired. That was weird.

My heart was beating, very slowly, but at least it was. I tried to make it stop, trying to find the nerves that controlled it, like feeling inside for the muscle, but I couldn't. That kept me busy for all of ten minutes, exploring my body with my mind. Every now and then I'd peek my head from under the covers and see the windows still glowing brightly behind the drapes, and I'd sigh and frown and close my eyes.

I did sleep, a little finally, and when I awoke it was from Angela's kisses on my cheek. She'd dressed already, in soft well-worn jeans that hugged her thighs and hips, and a white halter top without a bra, so that her nipples showed dully through the material. She'd brushed her hair and somehow put on make-up, and for a brief second I was afraid she was leaving me.

"I'm going to find you something to eat," she told me, reaching out to stroke my hair. "I'll be back soon, I promise. Just wait for me, wait here."

"Let me go with you," I begged, but she shook her head.

"It's better this way, you're still weak ... I'll be back soon." She kissed me, carefully so she wouldn't smudge her lipstick, and I huddled on the bed watching her leave.

I'd just finished a shower, a long hot one, finding that as hot as the water could get, it wasn't enough. I felt cold inside, all the way down into my bones and my stomach ached, twisting painfully as felt that hunger growing. It was a cruel thing and my instincts were telling me it was time ... Time to do ... Something. I wasn't sure exactly what, but I had a vague idea. I mean, it seemed obvious, if I really was a vampire.

A vampire. I'd avoided the word but it was out now and I even said it aloud, wondering how Angela had done her make-up without a mirror. I'd gone to the sink and reached for Angela's hairbrush before I realized I couldn't see myself. That made me giggle, but it wasn't a truly happy sound. Just frustration as much as anything else and I stood there, brushing my hair from memory when the door opened.

They were laughing softly, Angela and someone else, a man. He was saying something, speaking softly into Angela's ear and I could hear it plainly, although I was on the far side of the room. He wanted to fuck her bad, that's what he'd said, and I could smell the alcohol on him suddenly. He was a little drunk and he had his hands on Angela's hips and he wanted to fuck her. She giggled and stepped aside, closing the door behind them.

I'd stopped breathing and I felt it, the heat rising inside me. A burning that started way down deep in my belly. I wanted that man, immediately and so completely that I couldn't think straight. I could smell him. I could feel his presence, the way he filled the room suddenly. I stared at him and I could see him almost glowing with a warm golden aura. He was alive. I could hear his heart beating so much quicker than mine, and the soft rasping rattle of his lungs as they drew air into his body.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck standing up, my lips curled of their own accord, and my body tensed flush with excitement. I'd felt like this before, but never so strongly. When I'd stabbed that black guy, when I'd understood that I'd have to fight for my life with the guy in the car. I'd felt the adrenaline rush, the desire to hurt and kill another person. But this ... It was unbearable and even as the man became aware of my presence, I was already flying at him.

My fingers had become claws, talons with dagger nails, and I gripped him by the shoulders, piercing his shirt and then his skin deeply. My mouth went for his throat, without thinking, without effort, it just happened. I wasn't even on my feet anymore, I'd launched myself and we were falling backward. I closed my mouth on his neck and bit him hard, shaking my head from side to side, opening a frightful gash.

We hit the door just recently closed and the man was flailing at me, his hands pushing against me and he wanted to scream, but there was only a wet bubbling sound. I'd torn through his larynx and found his carotid artery, severing it easily in those first few seconds. We were still falling, the man's head slamming into the door and then his body sliding to the floor with me on top of him, when I clamped my hungry mouth over the fountain of blood.

I drank him eagerly, sucking hard, although that was hardly necessary. He was dying quickly and his heart was pumping fast, but growing weaker. His hands had been pushing against me, but he'd never been strong enough and now they fell to his sides, the fingers twitching slightly as I consumed his life. It filled me, my stomach becoming fat and bloated with his blood. It was sweet and warm, unlike mine or Angela's, his was alive.

My heart was pounding and my body felt on fire. I felt my cunt spasm with my orgasm, making my head spin. I was cumming, just from killing this man, from feeding on him while he quickly died. I was squeezing him, pressing my body against his, my legs spread so that I could rub my sex against his prostrate form. I drank and drank and I didn't even pull away when I felt Angela beside me, naked now, her hands on my body, caressing me. She fingered my pussy from behind, pumping my clasping cunt quickly so that I came again, spilling my juices across her hand.