Welcome to Castle Cove: A Design Your Destiny Novel

by Kory M. Shrum

  A vampire. God, could I really be a vampire?

  She searches my face, waiting for an answer.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

  She leans back in her seat, fangs put away and face the mask of professionalism again. Like I’m going to ever forget her slobbering all over her wrist. “First, tell me how you are feeling.”

  I give myself another body scan.

  “Tired and sore. Like I have the flu. And this headache is building behind my eyes. It’s almost like a sinus headache. And my mouth is so dry.”

  “Your headache is no doubt the pressure from your maxillae.”

  I frown at her. “Did I injure my…maxi-uh…”

  She smiles and thank goodness it’s not one of those condescending smiles. She seems genuine and helpful. Not an insufferable know-it-all. “The upper jaw. It’s two bones actually. The maxilla. You have one on each side that meets in the midline. Maxillae is plural. You are likely forming your lamia dentes meos, known colloquially as your fangs.”

  My fangs. Heaven help me. Fangs. “I’m forming my vampire teeth.”

  “What do you remember about the attack?” she probes gently.

  “There were two guys. One grabbed me and I maced him.”

  “Josephine…” she begins, her voice tightening. “What kind of condition did you find her in?”

  “Terrible,” I say. “She really looked like she had been through something. There was so much blood and…”

  “I get the idea,” the doctor interrupts, eyes bright. I see the tears shimmering in the corner.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “She was your friend?”

  “She…she meant a lot to me.”

  The doctor lapses into silence for a moment. When she speaks again her voice is a little lower than before, even more controlled. “But we should focus on the positive. You survived. And the city has been locked down. It’s only a matter of time before the killers are brought to justice.”

  “The vampires,” I say. “Including the one that probably infected me.”

  “You seem like a strong, brave woman,” Dr. Grange says, her eyes trained on mine. “So I am going to trust in that strength and be direct with you.”

  Oh boy.

  “The man who bit you last night was, indeed, a vampire.” I remember the feeling of cold steel stabbing into the side of my neck.

  I feel cold all over again. An icy wave from head to toe, followed by a flash flood of burning heat.

  Dr. Grange is still talking. “Anyone who is attacked feels trauma. Violence leaves scars. But to be bitten like that, against one’s will, some would describe it as akin to rape.”

  She’s searching my face for a reaction. I have no doubt every emotion is playing across it. Surprise. Fear. Shame.

  “Your body was violated. Violently.”

  I pinch my eyes shut. “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Okay,” she says. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m concerned for your wellbeing, and I want you to know I am here to make sure you’ve come to terms with what has happened.”

  “I was attacked, and I survived,” I say. “End of story.”

  “Okay,” she says, and the voice is convincing. She really is on my side. This relaxes me more than anything else she could have said or done. “But we have other concerns.”

  Of course they do. No one wants a traumatized baby vampire running wild in the streets. This is where we deal with the fallout, with all the shit that comes after.

  “Is it possible that you got some vampire blood into your system?” she asks. “Could you have gotten some into an open wound or in your mouth? Or when the paramedic shot and killed your attacker, perhaps his blood got into your system?”

  “So I have to have their blood in me to be infected?”

  “Yes. And even then sometimes it isn’t enough. But if we can pinpoint a source it would help in determining if Josephine is your sire, or Henry.”

  “I don’t know what that word means,” I admit.

  “Vampires trace their lineage. The person who is responsible for turning you is referred to as your sire. It doesn’t matter if the person is male or female.”

  I remember Josephine coughing on me in the alley. “When I was trying to help, Josephine, she coughed up blood, right into my face. I remember licking my lips and tasting it. I’m pretty sure she got it into my mouth and nose. I don’t remember about the attacker. I was already bleeding a lot by the time the paramedic shot him.”

  “Josephine coughed blood in your face,” Dr. Grange repeats.

  “Yes.”

  “That would do it,” she says. And there is something in her face that softens.

  “You don’t sound ‘unsure’ at all,” I say, searching her face. “You seem pretty convinced that I’m infected.”

  She watches my expression more closely than ever before. “I think the fact that you are sitting up in this bed, talking to me is evidence enough. And if it weren’t, there’s the headache and dry throat, usually the first symptoms.”

  “When will we know?” I ask.

  “When you try to eat but can’t stomach food, or when I present you with the scent of human blood,” she says simply. “But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Do you know what a vampire is?”

  “I’ve seen movies and read books like everyone else.”

  “You’ve heard fiction. But do you know the facts?”

  She waits for me to answer her question.

  “No, I guess I don’t really know.”

  “There are two species that fit what you may think of as a vampire. For us, here in the Castle Cove community, we use the word vampire simply for a type of creature who relies on blood to remain healthy and alive.”

  “Are you saying Castle Cove knows about vampires?”

  “Almost everyone.”

  “Everyone? I didn’t!”

  She smiles. “I understand you moved here last week, correct?”

  Good point. The idea of an entire town aware of and living with vampires blows my mind.

  Vampires.

  My throbbing head makes all the light in the room burn. I pinch my eyes shut.

  “You okay?”

  “The lights are hurting my eyes,” I say quietly. “Is that…is that another symptom?”

  “Yes,” she says calmly. “Hold on.”

  I hear the screech of her chair as she slides it back and gets up. Short sensible heels clack against the linoleum. A plastic button is pushed, turned. God, I can hear it all.

  “How’s that?” she asks.

  I open my eyes. “Better, thank you. Is there actually a dimmer switch in this room?” I didn’t know hospital rooms had such things.

  Dr. Grange smiles. “You’ll find a lot is different in Castle Cove.”

  “If light sensitivity is really a symptom, along with this horrible headache, you better get to telling me about vampires.”

  Because I’m starting to believe I may be one.

  “Two species feed on blood. We refer to them as the living and the undead. Living vampires are those whose heart did not stop during the transformation—the moment between infection and possible death. They will need blood to survive. They will be strong and fast. They won’t age. Their charms will be physical in nature. Alluring traits found in predators all over the natural world, a lilting voice and breath that causes confusion and disorientation. Pheromones that attract rather than repel, like pollinators to a sweet flower. Night vision and excellent hearing. Basically abilities that help them succeed in achieving a meal,” she summarizes. “The body is physically altered by an infection. A symbiotic parasite if you will.”

  “And the undead?” I ask.

  “Their heart stopped during the transformation,” she says, simply. “And at that moment, their body was possessed by a demon.”

  My pulse quickens.

  “The demonic energy animates the body. It accesses and utilizes all the memories, emotions an
d knowledge stored in the brain of its host. It feeds on blood to keep what is essentially a walking corpse functional and strong. Its survival skills are more connected to psychic prowess. Mind control or telepathy. Fire kinesis. It really varies depending on the demon energy.”

  “Are you saying I’m possessed by a demon and that it’s going to force me to do things against my will?”

  “No,” she says flatly. “It isn’t this kind of demon. Think of it more like a parasite. Someone can be infected with a tapeworm, or hookworms or anything that invades the internal system of its host. But it doesn’t control them.”

  “Magic demon worms that give you super powers,” I mumble. “And here I thought the blood drinking part was weird.”

  She spares me a smile.

  “Are they both allergic to sunlight?” I ask.

  “Undead vampires, yes. Even the smallest amount of sunlight will disintegrate the host immediately. However, in living vampirism, it’s subtler. They will dislike sunlight because they are nocturnal by nature. But it only makes them ill. It won’t incinerate them. Prolonged exposure, as long as five minutes in noon day sun without protection, can make their skin burn and blister. But get out of the sun, drink some blood, and they will heal. Simple sun protection is usually precaution enough.”

  “So which am I?” I ask, picking at a loose thread in my bed sheet.

  “We can’t be sure until dawn. The paramedic with you said he kept track of your pulse and that there was certainly a point when it grew very faint. But he can’t be sure if your heart actually stopped.”

  “When is dawn?”

  She looks at the silver watch on her wrist. “Very soon. We are an hour from sunrise. Would you mind terribly if you were a vampire?”

  “I don’t know. Yesterday, I didn’t know they existed.”

  “Vampires are commonplace in Castle Cove. We have quite a number that live here but they live here peacefully. They abide by our laws. They do not attack people and they do not feed without permission.”

  “They do not feed without permission.” I have to repeat it because it’s just the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. And it’s that word feed that makes them sound so otherworldly. After all, we don’t say humans feed on apples or salmon.

  A town. A whole vampire town? “What percentage of the population are we talking here?”

  “I would say roughly twenty-five percent of our citizens are vampires.”

  My mind reels at the idea. One in four. Surely not.

  Or only the people I’ve met at night.

  “Please don’t believe that all vampires are all evil because of what happened last night.”

  “I don’t,” I say, nervous by how close she is to my thoughts. “Humans are the same way, right? Some are horrible. Some are saints. Most of us fall in the middle.”

  “You will find the same to be true among our kind.”

  Our kind.

  “Now that your circumstances have changed, will you stay in Castle Cove? Or will you leave as soon as you can?”

  “I can leave?”

  She levels me with that cold gaze again. “This isn’t a prison. You can leave whenever you want.”

  Choice 18

  Hell yes, I’m out of here

  I moved here for a new life. I’m not turning back now

  Don’t make him mad. One more bite and I’m a goner.

  I sag in his arms, feeling the blood pour from my throat, down into the collar of my shirt.

  It cools so quickly, growing thick and sticky almost as soon as it escapes my veins.

  A flash of blue and red bounces off the buildings, reflecting brighter in the windows.

  The man holding me drops me.

  I hit the pavement hard. So hard that my head whacks the cobblestone.

  All I can do it lay there, my body shaking with cold and pain.

  Someone is shouting.

  Then my head is being lifted and forceful compression is held against my neck.

  “Hold on,” someone says. “Hold on, help is coming.”

  Wasn’t I just saying the very same thing to someone else?

  “Hold on,” he says again. “You’re going to make it.”

  But if he says anything else, I don’t catch it because just then the stars blink out, one by one and the world goes black.

  “You’re going to make it.”

  But he is wrong.

  The End

  Create a new story

  Hell yes, I’m out of here

  “I think it’s best if I go back to Baltimore,” I say. “I don’t want you to think I’m judging your town or the people in it, but I don’t think I can stay here after what’s happened.”

  When I watch scary movies, I’m always yelling at the screen, telling the women not to go into the dark house when the front door opens on its own.

  And it feels like that now. If I stay in Castle Cove, it’s like I’m begging for more misfortune to come my way.

  Nope.

  Dr. Grange seems to understand, and she doesn’t try to persuade me to stay in the city.

  The next night, once I’m deemed healthy and discharged from the hospital, I go home and immediately start packing.

  It takes me thirty minutes to shove all my clothes and electronics into a bag. I resolve to hire a shipping company to come get the rest and send it to my mother’s house in Maryland. I only take the things I’d be sad to lose. It takes me nearly five minutes to find Sushi, but once I offer him the cat carrier—which he usually detests—he seems all too willing to get in it.

  It’s not even ten o’clock when I climb into my car and pull away. In the rearview mirror, I see light spilling from my apartment across the balcony. I consider going back to turn it off, until I see the light click off.

  By itself.

  I push my foot down harder on the gas. Midnight Pass, the long road carving a path through the canyon, leads me along the ridge overlooking the cove. The sea glitters in the moonlight.

  If I strain, I see shadows moving on the beach below. Nighttime bathers…or something else, enjoying the waves and moonlight.

  Once I’m on the uppermost part of the ridge, I glance back at the ruined castle in the rearview mirror.

  Until something flashes in the road.

  A girl glows in my headlights. Her eyes as black as river water, are wide and frightened. The side of her neck is bloody, seeping down into her shirt.

  I slam on my breaks, screaming.

  But when the car stops no one is there. I look in the rearview mirror and no one is behind me. Nor do I see anyone through any of the windows.

  I get out and walk all around the car.

  Hell, I look under it.

  Nothing. I’m losing my damn mind. I must’ve imagined seeing someone—a ghost is more like it—walking down the middle of this deserted, moonlit road.

  A howl breaks open the night, carried on a soft breeze. It smells of salt water and the lush forest stretching behind the ruined castle. A second howl winds through those trees to mingle with the first, this one closer. I start to wonder what else is in this town besides vampires.

  Where there’s one monster…

  Sushi meows from inside the car, ending the entrancing hold the night has on me.

  I climb back into the car and speed off down the road once more.

  Without much thought, I make it to the interstate. I pull into traffic and I don’t look back.

  Sometimes my mother asks what happened in Castle Cove. I simply tell her that it wasn’t a good fit. She makes her own assumptions about crime, probably wondering if a man was involved. I never elaborate.

  She doesn’t mind that I work the night shift and sleep most of the day away. In fact, if she’s noticed a change, she hasn’t said anything.

  Sometimes when I’m walking the streets of Baltimore at night, seizing criminals from the darkness down by the bay, I can hear those waves crashing against the cove’s rocks.

  It may just be my imaginatio
n. Or it may be that distant unknowable city calling me home.

  The End

  Create a new story

  I moved here for a new life. I’m not turning back now.

  “I will do the best I can for now.”

  Dr. Grange smiles. “That’s a great attitude. Let me be the first to welcome you to Castle Cove. I hope you love being here as a cherished member of our community.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Grange,” I tell her, feeling more than a little awkward by the heartfelt welcome.

  She nods, accepting this answer. “There’s one last pressing matter.”

  My heart sinks. Of course there is.

  “You need to eat before the sun comes up.”

  “I guess fried chicken and mashed potatoes aren’t an option?”

  Dr. Grange tilts her head sympathetically. “We have two options at the hospital. You can drink from a blood bag. A plastic bag about the size of my hand which you empty through a tube. Or you can drink directly from a donor. There is also a tube mediating direct donor feedings. They do not allow biting in the hospital.”

  I can’t get the image of a human juice box out of my head.

  Dr. Grange isn’t so easily distracted. “Which would you prefer?”

  Choice 19

  Bagged

  Donor

  Bagged

  “I don’t think I can drink from someone yet,” I say. As weird as drinking blood from a bag sounds, I can’t imagine staring into someone’s eyes while I suck them up through a tube. “Sorry.”

  Dr. Grange pats my hand. “Nothing to be sorry for. This is your journey. Don’t let anyone else tell you how it should be traveled.”

  Dr. Grange excuses herself from the room in order to notify the nurse. I sit in the low-lit room listening to machines click on and off.

  When the nurse next appears, she has a bag of blood on the tray.

  “Dr. Grange says you’d prefer to begin with a blood bag?”