by Dylan Keefer
“This is a toothbrush, for brushing your teeth, and this is toothpaste, you put it on the toothbrush. This is a nail file, I noticed your nails might be hindering you, and scissors for your hair.”
Prudence looked down at her hands. Sure enough, her nails were long and cracked, snagging on her dress.
“We can get you to a hairdresser, a person that cuts hair for a job, later. Now I assume you would want a manageable length.”
"Yes, what length is customary now? Charlotte's is very short…" Prudence kept busy by turning the items Milo gave her over and over in her hands. The tube was smooth and squishy; the nail file was rough and flimsy.
“Umm, any actually. Women and men all have all sorts of hair lengths and styles. I don’t think you can go too short or too long when you cut it. Some even shave it.” Milo pointed to about his waist and then pointed to his own hair. “For clothes, we have a lot that might fit you. Your height and weight are pretty average.” Milo scratched his head. He was looking Prudence over, she noticed, but his glance wasn’t disrespectful. “Not that you don’t have the right to buy some later…”
He then produced another metal item from his pocket. “This is a nail clipper. Just put the nail in here and press down.”
Prudence clipped one of her nails carefully to show she understood. After fixing those, she asked Milo to help her cut her hair. He did a decent enough job, cutting the driest parts of the thick strands, making her hair come to the middle of her back. Prudence instantly felt lighter.
“Now,” she turned to the bath. “I turn this and — oh!” She turned the tap on, and the water streamed from the spoon-like thing resting on the tap, soaking her hand with slightly too hot water. Milo hurried and helped, flipping a switch. The water started flowing from the tap.
“Just turn it in small increments. I assume you’ll be able to figure out the bottles?” He asked nervously.
"Yes." Prudence suddenly wanted nothing more than to remove the bloody dress. “Thank you. For everything, I feel more comfortable now.”
“Not a problem, I am glad you feel better now. I’m going to go and let you, um, do what you do, but feel free to call me, for help.” Milo seemed to notice that Prudence wanted to clean herself. He pointed her to the towels and told her where to find clothes before quickly leaving the room. Prudence was surprised at how kind, gentle and patient he was with her. She was glad.
After fiddling with the bath a bit, she sat down letting the warm water clean her body. There were bottles all around her, and fortunately, all had instructions and names on them. Things have gotten a lot more complicated than soap she thought.
When there was no more blood coming off of her, she filled the bath with water and sat back. Her eyes closed, and she let the heaviness she felt in her body consume her.
The knitting needles bored into her brain again. She felt a hand around her head, pushing her down. She couldn't breathe. She opened her mouth and gulped water into her lungs. She tried to move, but her hands were tied behind her back. All she saw was a whirl of foam and bubbles.
Prudence jumped out of the tub, hitting her hand on the wall. It took a few minutes to register exactly where she was. A few more minutes for her heart to stop beating so fast.
These memories were tiring her out. If she had to guess she’d say she had been asleep at least three hundred years. Who did that and why? Milo said that Charlotte would show her the letter when she came back. Prudence had two reasons for wanting the day to be over.
The idea that someone wanted her dead, and that the person might still be around if they were a vampire didn't fill her with as much fright as one thought it would. It was as if she had been used to it; it was familiar. When she took into consideration, all of the memories she'd gained were violent, that seemed logical.
Prudence got up, feeling trapped in the bath. She dried her body then opened the wardrobe, grabbing a bright orange long skirt and a button-down shirt she thought would work for now. The fabric they were made of was the least odd from everything in the closet. Prudence wound up her hair in a low bun and yawned. Her body ached for sleep, but she was scared that if she closed her eyes, another vision of her memories would show up.
Despite her brain’s protests, her body found its way to the bed. It was unbelievably soft and smelled like flowers.
“Maybe the nightmares will stop if I’m comfortable.” She murmured as she wrapped herself in the blankets and closed her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she felt safer curled up in a fetal position.
CHAPTER SIX
An ornate cabinet loomed over her, the bottom of it was all drawers while the top was shelves behind doors. It was dark brown, with curved legs and vines carved into its doors. The doors were ajar, and it worried her. She ran to it. She could only reach the drawers, so she looked for a chair. Her weak little arms could only drag it over. She pushed it up to the cabinet and climbed up. Just as she was about to boost herself up and see what was missing, she woke up. She only saw her reflection for a quick second.
Prudence rose up, hearing Charlotte's voice. In the dark room, her eyesight was sharper. Was that a childhood memory? She thought as she got up and went to splash water on her face. She rewound the only pleasant memory she got so far over and over in her head.
When she looked in the mirror, she had thought that it would be good to know how her fangs worked. She didn't want to see them, but them showing up in public was worse than her being a bit uncomfortable.
Focusing on them, she opened her mouth and urged them to grow from her gums. The fangs were long, and thin, slightly curved toward her bottom lip, reminding her of a snake. She touched them, and winced, realizing how sharp they were. They were also still slightly stained. She assumed it was because she drank blood with them, and they retracted away from any saliva, food or drink that could remove the spots.
When she focused, she could see a small amount of what she assumed was venom dripping down them and into the sink.
Prudence took the toothpaste and brush and brushed her teeth. The sensation was odd, especially since the paste was aggressively minty. She stopped several times, certain it was burning her. But it was all worth it in the end. The paste took away all traces of blood in her mouth.
Prudence retracted the fangs and touched her teeth with her hand. They seemed normal otherwise, though she could feel the place where the fangs retracted into her gums, right in front of her canines. Unless one knew where to look, one wouldn't know there was anything different.
“Are ya awake yet? If not, get the hell up already. Didn’t ya get enough sleep?” Charlotte banged on the door.
Prudence winced at the loudness.
“Coming.” The prospect of finding out more about herself and the man that put her to sleep made her rush out the door. Charlotte shoved a yellowed piece of paper in Prudence’s hands as soon as she exited. She unfolded it and tried to read it out loud. Her reading was slow, and she had to stop at points, but it was more from lack of practice and the strangeness of some words than anything.
Hon, if you're reading this, it means I'm dead.
Now I know that's a cliché, but it's one for a reason. Now let me tell you the dirty family secret. Well, another one anyway. Don't worry this one's fun. Well, more fun.
A long time ago, our family was in a lot of trouble. I'll spare you the details; you would roll your eyes. But a nice young man, described to me as pale, tall and slim, with dark hair and eyes and a low, crumbly voice, offered a deal. He'd get us out of trouble, and all we needed to do is keep an eye on the woman currently with him. He planned to put her to sleep using magic and then have us hide her in a grave, moving her around with the times until she either woke up on her own or when he came to wake her.
Now, the woman was Asian, average looking, and couldn't remember anything about herself. She still gave him a run for his money when she overheard his plan. She tried to run away. He caught up to her so fast we didn't actually see him run. Though she was no pushove
r either. She put him through a wall. Despite that mess, he managed to put her to sleep and fixed the damage with a few words and a wave of his hand.
When he put her to sleep, he explained she had been hunted for who she was, a spawn between a vampire and a human. He didn’t know why someone would destroy her memory, but he assumed she just needed time to recover, and sleep would help. He also explained he was, in fact, a vampire, which was apparently a huge secret. He might have been hunted and even killed just for telling us that. He gave us the locket you'll get with this letter and told us to keep it safe but avoid putting it on her neck.
He had told our family that if anyone like him appeared again, we were to use any holy symbol we could find to stave them off, toss them in the sunlight, or stab them with wood. Then set the corpse on fire. That we were to be careful because some could do a lot more than even he could, just by speaking. And that if we ever felt danger, we should take precautions.
Now I have never had the pleasure of meeting someone like that, and I honestly hope you don't either. But better safe than sorry. So when my gut shifted, and I saw strange people following us, I knew I had to do something to ensure you find out about this.
After the man had fulfilled his end of the bargain, our ancestors hid her. You had always wondered why every day, one of us goes to the mausoleum in the old graveyard. Or why most of our inheritance went to fixing the graves of our ancestors. This is why. We thought it would be safer than burying her. We're not aware if she could suffocate.
I don't know if the man is still alive, or if the deal still counts. But this has been a part of our history for almost three hundred years, so indulge us. And if she does wake up, make sure you keep an eye on her until he comes here to take her with him. If she survived that long, chances are he, and the people who wiped her memory did too. And that means you're in danger just because of association. You might as well have someone on your side.
I never did believe the guy was a vampire, let alone the girl's heritage, but I've seen her breathe in and out and felt her pulse, and that is enough for me to keep doing this. Move her within the next week or so after you read this, call Milo and everyone still alive, and keep together. And continue being your vigilant self.
Good luck hon.
Uncle Tim.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Prudence reread the part where the letter mentioned her a few times. For some reason, she didn’t think it was her at first. Did she really attack someone so savagely? Why would she do that? The two dead bodies floated in her mind again. Of course, she would do that. This part of her, the one making her drink blood for her own survival, was the one making her do all those things. If she could somehow claw it out of her, she would.
Prudence realized she was standing silently for too long, so she frowned. “That’s not that helpful.”
“Well, at least ya know that ya’re not a dainty little flower. That’s always helpful when people are trying to kill ya.” Charlotte handed Prudence a bowl filled with solid balls of brown, white and pink food. The bowl was cold. “Ice cream. Desert. It’s yummy.”
Prudence took the bowl and sat down in what they called the living room. The seats were comfortable and soft. All of them seemed to be pointed at the black thing hanging above the fireplace.
Milo reached for something on the glass table, but he stopped. He turned to Prudence. “Oh, I forgot to explain to you. This is a television. We figured out how to make moving photos. When I press this button, they will show up. But you need to understand that those are just moving photos, nothing more.”
“…Alright.” Prudence was confused. Milo was so serious.
“There are no tiny people inside,” Milo said.
Prudence raised her eyebrow. “…Alright.”
“Ya’re weirding her out dude.” Charlotte chuckled, hitting Milo on the side. “Ya know the fact people always think that in your stories, it doesn’t mean she will too.”
“Maybe not, but I like to cover my bases. There is no reason to scare her.” Milo turned on the television.
A loud sound escaped it, and Prudence was faced with what she expected. Moving pictures. The explanation didn't make it any less strange. But Prudence could understand how someone would think people were stuck in it. When she looked at the device, strange images from a book floated in her mind.
“Zahn.” She spoke as if reading from a book.
“Huh? Are ya remembering something?” Charlotte moved from her seat as if to catch Prudence if she fell over.
“No. It’s one of those things I already know.” Prudence scrunched up her face. “Johann Zahn.”
“Milo, ya know who that dude is?”
“Yeah, he invented the camera before technology caught up,” Milo said, impressed. “How do you know about him?”
“I don't know; maybe I've seen or heard of him?"
“Or you’ve read the book.” Milo got up and then sat down. “I would have said I can get it for you, but come to think of it, I’m not so sure. I’ll check.”
Prudence smiled. The rest of the evening devolved into Milo talking about cameras and Prudence listening. The ice cream had melted. Charlotte had left, but not before saying she'd be taking Prudence to town with her tomorrow.
Prudence hadn’t even gotten used to the fact one could take her picture with just a tiny brick people kept in her pocket when Milo’s eyes started to close.
“You can go to bed you know.” She smiled at him. It was kind of sweet he was trying to keep her company.
“No, I want to keep you company, you don’t have to be alone all night. I don’t know why I’m already sleepy.” Milo looked at the floor. “Oh, wait, I have something for you.” He walked away and came back soon with a pile of white pages. “Vampire myths. Now I don’t know how much of this is accurate, but this is what society has thought of them. Considering we got the weaknesses right, there might be something else here that’s of use. I included fictional accounts too. Most of the stories describe vampires as hypnotic, hungry beasts that can entrance their victims with their beauty but looking at you I don’t really buy that. Not that you’re not beautiful, it’s just you don’t seem like someone that would do that. You’re nice.” He stammered out.
“I understood that. Did you get that, from the…” Prudence couldn’t remember the word Milo used to describe the latest piece of technology someone had invented.
“Computer and the Internet." Milo smiled. "You don't need to learn everything at once."
Prudence picked up the papers from Milo. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep, you need it.” She wanted to greet him, but she did not want to hug him, and a handshake seemed too formal. Instead she squeezed his hand as a greeting.
“Sure thing. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask me.” Milo left to go to bed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Prudence carried all the papers to her room. She sat down on the bed and set to reading them. She tried to read with the light on, but she had to turn it off. It hurt her eyes too much. That made her feel even more aware of her vampire side. And even more uncomfortable.
The night was spent wide awake, faced with things that made her flinch with disgust. The images she had seen were reminding her so much of the scene in the ambulance she had to stop several times to calm herself down. They were all gore and blood. Abominations crawling around on the ground after people, and well-dressed gentlemen hypnotizing young women.
All the references to unquenchable hunger made her go to the kitchen. She opened what she now knew was called a fridge. The door was too hard to open for her liking, and the cool air inside made her flinch. There were a few metal canisters labeled blood. Prudence picked up one and then turned around, wondering how to heat it up.
Not knowing how she called Milo.
He got up, his hair askew, and smiled when she apologized profusely about waking him.
He gently ushered her to the kitchen. There Prudence picked out a mug for herself. She
poured some blood into it. She might as well get used to this. If she was going to control her hunger and not kill anyone else she needed to know.
Milo opened a small box-like thing, put a lid on the mug, and then put it inside. He then pressed a few buttons. Despite the fact he seemed sleepy he wasn't impatient, in fact, he was far calmer than Prudence was. For some reason it made her feel better about the fact she needed to drink that.
"When this beeps, open it and press this button to turn it off. Then take it out. Be careful it'll be hot. Okay?"
“You’re leaving me alone?” Prudence’s voice cracked. She didn’t want to mess this up and ruin the kitchen.
Milo smiled. "I'll be here; I just want you to do it yourself."
Prudence nodded. When Milo sat on a chair, she stared at the spinning mug and the numbers going down slowly. She could feel Milo was observing her, and if she focused hard enough, she could feel his heartbeat. It didn’t make her hungry if she thought of his face. The more they talked, the more his face was solidified in her mind.
After the microwave had beeped, Prudence jumped. She ran Milo's instructions over and over in her head as she attempted to retrieve her cup. The blood was nice and warm. Milo handed her a thin straw made from a strange material.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll go to bed now. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.” Milo made a move like he wanted to hug her, but when Prudence flinched, he just smiled and squeezed her hand.
Prudence nodded and went back to her room. She drank her blood as she read the list of things vampires might be vulnerable to.
Reading people talking about half of her as a myth was a strange out of body experience. She tested a few things out and realized her instincts still remembered dangers. Crosses made her uncomfortable and dizzy, as she figured out when she walked around and found one in a room. The sun felt as if someone was pouring uncomfortably hot water on her. She didn't have a way to test the wood bit. And honestly, she didn't want to. Silver didn't have an effect on her skin.