by JN Moon
I realised with full intensity and horror that I had an eternity to dwell upon my remorseless and selfish violent nature. I wanted to curl up, to hide. The irony of it, immortal and so ashamed I wanted to die.
Was I a demon? Is that the true identity of a vampire? Is the word vampire just a lavish word used to describe a sick and demented demon? I could try and end this life, but I wondered if, honestly, I had the courage to do so and anyway, would it work? Maybe I would fail and become some disfigured creature. A golem wrapped in even more self-hatred, not unlike those that turned me.
I needed to figure out what I wanted to do with this life. I felt for sure I wanted to see Rachel, maybe at first just to glance at her. My heart burned when I thought that she might be dating now. Rachel with another man sent sparks of anger throughout my body, and my heart ached.
Reason and rationale told me that I had no right, no right at all to question this. After all I had done. Then I knew with absolute certainty that what we had was lost for good.
Even if she was single, I would know my recent sordid acts and I could not undo that. I had acted on base instincts, lust, blood, frenzy, and now? Now I felt cold and alone. Empty. Until my next fix.
I picked off the trash of society as I travelled. Those human wretches lurking in the dark places, playing predator. How I enjoy their retribution.
I thought of the stark contrast to my life now, as it was not so very long ago. At least I had had the sense to stay in contact with my human family by email. I told them some lies so they wouldn't question why I hadn't been to see them. I told them I was working on some international project and after the break up with Rachel, I needed to stay busy.
Rachel. How I longed for her to be in my arms once again, to smell her scent, kiss her full lips, but fear of myself prevented me from seeking her out. I did not know it then, but it would be a long time before I could see her, and even then, I wouldn't be going alone. For her safety. She was the love of my life and I missed her like I missed breathing.
I tried to block her memory, her warmth, and her affection. I craved her, yet I couldn’t have her. In truth, in the darkest part of my soul, I knew that every person I had taken drove a hole into my heart. A chasm between me and my human love.
The nights were cold and bleak like my soul.
A shroud of darkness hung over me and the wind stinging my skin blew hard from the north chilling me to the core. I trawled the city every night looking for the ones who had changed me.
In my despair, I no longer cared about my appearance and the more evil people I came across, the lower my dead heart sank. I questioned this life constantly. My purpose. I could do anything now, absolutely anything. I was free. I had so few of the trappings of human society. I could ridicule these to my heart's content, but not to my soul’s content.
What is in the soul of a vampire? Blood? Endurance? Am I alive now purely to exist, to fight for survival like the lion or the cheetah?
I searched the back streets of Bath, the street where I lived, and all dark alleyways I could find. But nothing. I knew that I possessed the power of many men, but the ones who turned me where in a pack. In Kung Fu, for many years I was taught to fight with various weapons, but carrying a sword or spear around the city would probably not go unnoticed. So, I chose to carry my short sticks. These are really small, but anything can be deadly when wielded with practised hands. If I met them, I would need something more than just my strength and wits. For all I knew they could be stronger.
I felt lonelier than before and decided to see if I could find Nathaniel to help me, not knowing whether or not he was back from wherever it was he went. But there was no answer from his house, and when I peered through the windows everything was immaculate, nothing touched or moved. I leant against his front door, looking for salvation. Something or someone to help me overcome this isolation and viciousness.
Was this evil always within me before I was changed? I found myself just staring down at the ground, my arms hugging my body, my mind an abyss of darkness. I was pure evil wandering the streets, arrogant in my own power and malevolence.
When I find them...
It was during this time my eyes started to open to the diversity of vampires that inhabit this planet. Even in the small city of Bath, in the dark places where no human dwells, cemeteries, crypts, and derelict buildings, vampires of the most terrifying and awful type, can be found. Similar to the ones that turned me. The ones that turned me. Why had they chosen me?
Maybe they had done it to mock me, an ignorant human. Such easy prey. Maybe to send my life spinning out of control and it really pissed me off that they were right. I had fallen for all the perverse antics like a moth to the flame. Yet, inside the hunger burned insatiably.
Some of the creatures I encountered were like tales of horror from a medieval age. They were very old. Some didn't speak or seem capable of communicating verbally. They were more like a rabid beast, crazed and wild. Some wore no clothes and seemed like they had no concept that they were once human unless maybe they had been born vampire and this was the result?
I shuddered to think of them and of procreating to create such vileness. Did they turn others? Were they born this way? How old could they be wandering this earth?
They meandered around silently, taking the unfortunate passer-by, drinking them dry and not caring about hiding the body. Some of them ate the bodies. It was all I could do to stop from retching as I watched in horror from a distance as these creatures devoured their prey. Demonic frenzied beings. How they escaped detection puzzled me. They were hideous. I could smell them long before I could see them. Sometimes having acute senses is not a blessing.
Their features had contorted from years of living off so few victims and they looked emaciated with their teeth exaggerated. Their eyes wide and hair dark with filth and matted. If they had clothes, these were covered in filth and it crossed my mind many times that I should end their pitiful, terrorising existence.
Others were clearly from a more recent time, and a few tried eagerly to fix themselves to me. They were sad creatures, locked in their own fear of superstitions and outdated knowledge. Their clothes were old, rotting, torn and although some of these had some remnants of their former glory in their manner, their chivalry, courtesy, and mannerisms, they were just a shadow of their former selves. Lost in the dark places, alone, frightened, and alarmed. All sense of humanity lost from them.
I had befriended such a vampire from a past age—judging by his clothes and his speech—when I came across the ones that turned me.
Immediately, as I saw them my heart raced and I found myself panting. A flashback of that night, the last night I was mortal. Anger and fear welled up in me, my muscles tense.
My body contorted and crumpled in fear, breathless from the shock and anger. Reaching for the nearest wall to steady myself, I slowed my breathing. My friend fled in that instant as I regained my sense of self.
I saw they had trapped a woman. Ironically, they were just off the centre of the city, a place I'd searched many times previously. Not far from the main high street in Bath, under the ornate pillars opposite the Roman Baths. I had to gather myself, gather my thoughts. Remind myself of my lessons from years of martial arts. Breathe.
The woman was drunk, I could see from her demeanour and scent, but she was filled with terror. Her face drained of colour, and she shook so violently with tears streaming down her face, but her voice...her voice chilled me the most. Wailing, so vulnerable, so weak. Immediately, as I assessed the situation, my own fear turned back to anger. An anger I would use calculatingly against these hateful things.
I waited for a few minutes as they toyed with her, petrifying her with slow and purposeful approaches. She panicked like a cornered animal awaiting its fate of certain death. I breathed deeply for a minute as I measured the situation and their tactics.
I climbed up the building quickly and silently just above them and then, just before they bit the terrified woman, I jum
ped in, yelling loudly, and whacked one of them on his temple, hard and fast. One rushed me and I kicked him full in the face, causing him to fall flat on his stinking back. The other two were writhing around hiding their faces. I jumped at the third one and front-kicked him straight in his bony chest. He grabbed my leg and I crashed to the floor.
“Run!” I yelled to the woman who was standing there startled. “Run, go!”
As the grisly creature tried to twist my leg, I pulled it in bringing him with it, closer to me, then punched his putrid face with my fist. My hand was sticky from the punch and I grimaced with disgust. Blood mixed with a vile film that hung from his flesh.
He went flying back and, as I drew breath the other two came at me and I grabbed my sticks. I stilled my mind and let my body react to the incoming attack, just as I had been trained to do. It was then I truly recognised the power not only of my changed state, but that of my Kung Fu teacher, and somewhere amid the chaos, in my mind I thanked him.
It seemed long and bloody and at last, I reacted only with instinct and not with my mind. Moving swiftly, I anticipated their moves, two of them lunged at me coming from either side. I didn’t move until they were almost upon me, then I spun around, swooping low, sticks rigid in my hands smashing into the backs of their knees. As I swept up, another in my face, my fist flat I punched him fast under the chin, sending him hurtling back. Breathe. The last one, he edged from me now, growling, trying to use his inferior mind against mine. To confuse him I turned my back on him, obviously he came running. As he reached me I jumped to the side, and a whack sounded as my stick held fast in my clenched fist, I smacked into his neck, his throat. Bulging eyes, blood gurgling he cried out, shock written on his grim face as he staggered back. Surveying them, they lay there somewhere in between life and death. I questioned one of them.
“Why did you change me?” I screamed angrily into his face as the adrenalin coursed through my vampire blood. I was invincible and full of hate.
But my questions were in vain as he sniggered at me and eyed me up and down. He did not speak. Would not, or could not, I do not know. I knocked him out, punching his head into the ground. Then my rage fuelled. I kicked him in his face, his stomach. But I did not kill them. I wanted to. I don't know what held me back. My fury was burned. Maybe they couldn't be killed for all I knew.
I turned to leave that dark corner and saw the woman, their victim, crouched and shocked against the wall. As I approached her, she staggered away from me. It was time for her to pay me, my mind feeling oddly cold. I had saved her; there was a price, nothing is free. The hunger wailed at my soul after the fight, and the smell of blood awakened my being, my essence.
“It's alright, they won't harm you anymore,” I spoke softly in contrast to the thoughts in my mind. “Come, let me help you home.” As I led her away, she did not speak and I knew where I would lead her. Foolishly, she started to trust me as I wrapped my arms around her, comforting her and soothing her with words. An evil saviour.
That violence caused such fervour in me, as I took her in my arms and gazed into her eyes these feelings blazed in my blood and my body. Then my mind cut in, above my lust. Maybe my soul spoke to me. Is this who I am now? You saved her. You cannot eat her. You shouldn't screw her. Take her home. And take your food from someone else.
I wanted her so fiercely, but I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to leave her abused, dead like so many others. She'd been through enough. I was battling with my emotions, raw and unbounded.
It was odd to me at that moment, to act with such compassion, but I felt excited at this and almost human. Confusion compounded my mind that I wasn't going to drain her, though my body craved for her touch, her blood. I knew after all that she yearned for me, ached for me. Her eyes gazed into mine and I fought with all my will. I started to walk her home, some miles away on the outskirts of the city with my arm around her, comforting her. But then it struck me, what she had seen. And this scared me. Would she go to the authorities and tell of the wild vagrants and of the vigilante that saved her? Well, what the fuck if she does? I reasoned. Maybe it would be a good thing.
I walked her to her door and she turned and kissed me.
Shaking, she asked, “Won’t you come in? You saved my life; I’m still scared they’ll find me!”
Warmth swept over my body, as I touched her soft face and stared into her pale eyes, tired and fearful though they were. I allowed myself to hold that moment, to breathe in her scent.
Quivering, my hand brushed her skin as I placed it on her cheek and I could hear the beating of her heart pounding faster with my touch. Instinct drove me, licking my lips at the thought of tasting her.
Softly I answered, “You are quite safe now. Go. Don’t invite me in!” Flashing her a smile, she gasped and stepped back.
I knew she didn't know what she was asking.
Invite a vampire into your home? Your body fills with passion, you feel on fire.
Your yearning for us is unlike any feeling you will ever have. Debauched desires awaken inside you. You cannot help yourselves.
But we, unlike you, we cannot feel like you. We just feed our overwhelming craving to drink you, to have your soul.
We will abuse your trust and though we can satiate your lust, satiate in a way beyond your imagining, the price is high. No coincidence that they say, “To give yourself to a vampire is to lose your soul. Lust alone cannot sustain even the coldest of hearts. Your soul is more valuable than your life alone.”
So, I declined.
I turned on my heels and ran back to my flat. I shut the door and collapsed on my bed, the incessant hunger still gnawing at me. I wanted more and I lay there as it burned inside me. I hadn't smiled so much in a long time. I felt sensuous and dreamy even with the desire burning. I took a shower and with the hot water spraying down and that steam cleaning me, cleansing my spirit, I remembered what it was to feel worthy. Then I slept, clean, worn out, and almost at peace. I slept like the dead.
The next night I was still unsure what to do about those foul creatures. I wanted to kill them, but even after beating them, they still lived so in truth I was not sure if I could even do this. I needed to find out more about them.
I also wanted to explore my newfound humanity. I felt eager to experience these sensations of resisting desire. Desire and happiness are two separate experiences, and to be happy I needed to resist the urge to kill, to bleed. Maybe I could redeem myself if I held out longer?
Was it even possible? Tom and Josephine had promised to show me another way, and taking the blood from the evil was preferable than innocents to be sure. But then again, with them, I had been led astray. Nevertheless, I never opposed that, so I was as much to blame. I wanted very much to be better.
Since I was turned, my life had been one long, crazy, fucked up ride. No, I would search out some others who may be able to tell me more about how we came to be, and what else is out there. Just as Tom's words echoed in my mind, there is a whole other paranormal world out there. I needed a guide.
I searched out places on the outskirts of the city and came upon an underground cavern tucked away in a small, dense wood. Part of Bath is built upon mines, and it was just such a place I found.
At what looked like a rock face, a faint breeze passed me and, peering down, I saw an entrance, hidden and too perilous for humans to reach. Clambering through thick undergrowth, clinging to branches, the ledge was tiny. My footing fell away but something drove me on. Slowly I started to descend into this dark tunnel with the hope of finding something or someone to bring me peace.
As I stepped in with care, loose stones crumbled and ran under my feet. While I clung to the wall for support, a robust vampire immediately met me. Huge warm eyes scanned me followed by an even larger grin, and without speaking he pulled me down gently and led me into his lair. I felt no fear, no trepidation as there was no malice about this creature, but a warmth that was inviting.
The vampire offered me his blood. He was obv
iously more knowledgeable than the others were and he had created himself a sanctuary.
It was magnificent really, this underground cavern, large and regal in a medieval kind of way. Old tapestries hung from the cold stone walls, a huge roaring fire bellowed out heat in the middle of the place and as my vision followed the trail of smoke I saw an opening, a chimney that, somewhere in this wood, smoke flowed out. He seated himself on a large carved wooden chair, I was only surprised it wasn’t on a dais. On
either side of the fire were two low benches with old assortments of worn blankets and cloth strewn upon them. Creepily, a few skulls were placed around this little chamber, small alcoves housing them, their faces tormenting visitors in the flickering fire light.
A scattering of minions hung around, waiting on his every word. I knew he was fascinated by me ragged as I was, but to him, I was fresh, bright, and young.
His name was Sigurd, or at least that's what he called himself. He was very, very old in vampire terms, that much I could tell, though I didn’t care how old he was or for his real name.
Sigurd craved the companionship of an equal. He was bored with the usual soulless creatures and the vain superficial vampires that he usually encountered. It was in his company that I realised something more profound about the nature of vampires. To become a vampire seems to draw on one's strongest traits and darkest desires, then brings these to the fore. Which might explain why when you’re first turned, you’re so out of control. Weaker vampires never evolve past this, not unlike humans in that sense, and rely solely on their base mind and instincts.
Compared to him, my slight toned features looked so fragile. He was well-built and tall with a dominating presence. His name suggested Nordic heritage, and I had no doubt just by looking at him that he was with his height, frame, and blue eyes. He had a closely cropped beard and long blonde hair that trailed down his back.