by Atha, DL
A couple of blood-tinged tears landed on the papers and I didn’t bother to wipe them off. They were representative of how I felt.
The clock gave a short bleep. It was 3 p.m. The sun would now be coming from the west. There were several rooms in the house I could probably go into now. The bathroom being one of them since it faced east. Since I wasn’t a full vampire yet, I could probably venture out in the rooms that didn’t have direct sunlight. It was a gamble but one that had reasonable odds I thought
Opening the door slightly, I stayed hidden behind the door and stretched my right arm out into the hallway. Nothing happened. So I stepped out cautiously and headed slowly into the living room, the scrapbook tucked under my left arm. So far, so good. I stopped at the entrance to the living room and peered around the doorframe into the dimly lit room.
Luckily, all the blinds were closed and the doors into the kitchen and hallway leading to the sunroom were closed. I was safe and had not burst into flames.
Placing the scrapbook down on an end table, I turned to go take a shower when my eyes landed on the wooden cross lying on the floor where it had been knocked during the previous night’s encounter.
Having only been made to look old, the wood was actually quite strong and the end was beveled. It would take very little to turn this into a nice stake. Oh my gosh. Had I really just thought that?
Thinking again of the scrapbook, I reached for it and placed it inside the magazine rack just in case I forgot about it and Asa happened to notice it was out of place. He would be able to smell me or him on it and probably recognize it for what it was.
Pushing it down deeply between two older fitness magazines, I placed the stack of magazines that had been sitting there for at least a month back on the top. Satisfied that nothing looked out of place, I turned my attention back to the cross.
Grabbing it up off the floor in a quick movement, I realized I could do nothing without a knife. Too afraid to venture into the sunny kitchen, I headed back to the closet where I kept my dad’s old pocketknife. That was kind of fitting. My dad would want to rip Asa’s heart out if he could see me now.
Kneeling down in the closet, I made short work of the stake. I left it intact thinking that the T would give more leverage, but decided to make it shorter and shorten the arms as well. It didn’t need to be nearly as long to go all the way through Asa.
Holding it with my hands, I was able to break the hardwood with my foot, so the length of the stake was no more than twenty inches and the arms no more than about four each. Just enough to allow for a good grip. Using the knife and my increased strength, I shaved away shards of wood until I had a very sharp stake indeed.
Judging it in the light of the closet, I decided it could be a little sharper so I spent another ten minutes before forcing myself to move on. Tucking my new stake in behind a stack of jeans, I turned my attention to the next important item on my agenda, a shower.
In an older house, it always takes a couple of minutes for hot water to reach the nozzle and I spent that time looking at myself in the mirror after I had taken my clothes off.
Looking like a strange albino zebra, I freely acknowledged that I looked like crap. My human skin was slightly darker than my new vampire skin, but the main difference was not so much the coloring but the texture.
The developed vampire skin was supple, like a child’s. There were no wrinkles, no moles, and no cellulite. No plastic surgeon could create skin like this. My only hope was to get as much of my old skin off. With a long-sleeved shirt on, maybe Asa wouldn’t notice.
Stepping into the shower, I grabbed a loofah sponge and some sea salts and went to work. The old, dying skin came off pretty easily with the loofah. Starting first on my hands as they would be the most visible part of me besides my neck and face, I scrubbed both hands and arms until my skin was mostly the same color. Still a little darker in the creases, but it would have to do.
Going next to my face and neck, I scrubbed harshly and then started on my chest and abdomen. Grabbing another loofah specifically designed for the back and shoulders, I was about halfway down my back when I noticed I was up to my ankles in water, which is a very strange feeling when you’re standing in a shower. Looking down, a large clump of soggy brown oatmeal-like material could be seen covering the shower drain.
I almost gagged when I realized what it was. Dead skin. I had pulled off enough dead skin to actually clog the drain. I stood there for a moment, dreading what I had to do but knowing it had to be done. Besides, I still hadn’t done my legs.
Disgusted, I reached down and grasped the slimy mess. Very large, it took both hands to scoop it up. Heavier than I expected, it overflowed through my fingers as I squeezed the excess water out and used my toes to pull open the shower door. Stepping out of the shower, I flung it into the commode as quickly as possible and flushed it, all the while trying not to look at it.
More of the slime awaited me, but hearing the dreaded but not unexpected sounds from the toilet, I turned back around to face the swirling brown discolored water rising in the blocked toilet.
The breath rushed out of my lungs as I huffed my outrage at my newest dilemma, but reaching for the plunger I was happy to find it only took a couple of strokes with the plunger to send the mess on its way. This was good considering I had precious little time left.
Stepping back into the shower, I grabbed the loofah and resumed my scrubbing by finishing my back and moving on to my legs. I had to repeat the unclogging process twice more before I was finally finished, but I took care to flush it in small increments each time. Almost by habit, I grabbed the moisturizing body wash and was about to slather it on when I realized that I probably wouldn’t need it any more.
Leaning out of the spray of warm water, I glanced cautiously up at the skylight. I could still see filtered light coming in and decided to go ahead and wash my hair.
Reaching for the shampoo, I poured a good-sized amount of lightly scented shampoo on my hands and scrubbed at my scalp viciously. It probably had skin cells that needed to come off as well. After I finished assaulting my scalp, I leaned over to let the soap run through the rest of my hair.
To my disgust but not surprise, more of the oatmeal-like tissue ran out into the bottom of the shower along with a few long black locks. Seeing it was much more than could be attributed to usual hair loss, I pulled my hair through my hands.
Holding my hands up in front of me, I gasped at what I saw. Hair hung from my nails and twisted around my fingers, trailing down onto my forearms. Shocked by what had happened, I stood up quickly, spattering the back of the shower with more oatmeal and at least a thousand long hairs that clung to the shower wall.
Studying the hair closely, the white tips could be seen quite plainly with my new vision. It had come out by the roots. Not being able to help myself, I reached up again with both hands and began to pull out more and more of my normally thick hair. The more hair I pulled out, the more hair that followed. It didn’t take very long until I had no hair left except a few stragglers. The shower floor was covered in it.
Red-stained tears came uncontrollably at this point. Not only because I had lost my hair, which was one of my best features, but also because I wondered how I would keep this from Asa. He would definitely notice that I was bald. Well not completely bald, I still had those few stragglers.
Getting my razor while I continued to cry red-tinged rivers down my body, I made short work of the few strands that were left. Now I was truly bald.
Not wanting to stain the white grout of the bathroom tile, I stood dripping in the shower until my red tears had stopped. Grabbing a towel from the linen cabinet, I dried off and threw the towel in the dirty clothes.
Putting my robe on, I walked over to the sink counter and got a trash bag out of the cabinet. Getting down on my knees, I started scooping up large handfuls of my hair out of the shower, not wanting my family to have to clean this up when I was declared missing and/or dead.
I had decided that
my chances of survival were now slim as Asa would quickly realize what was happening to me. Hair loss is pretty dramatic and he had been through this all before when he was turned. I could cover up the skin changes for the most part, but the hair?
Sitting there on my knees desperately wishing for a wig, I had a flash of what was either pure genius or complete desperation, or possibly even both. Probably more desperation if I’m honest. Hair extensions! Every girl that has ever ridden in the rodeos has them and I had worn them a couple of years back when I had shorter hair. They had been matched both to the color and texture of my hair. Surely there was something I could do with them.
Walking back into the closet, I found them buried half way down in a trunk where I kept evening gowns and other similar items. Grabbing them and an old sewing kit that I kept in the closet, I sewed the weaving of the extensions onto the rim of a university hat I had stored in the chest. I sewed as quickly as I could, but tried to make sure the hair was even all the way around the ball cap. When I was finished, I walked back into the bathroom and tried it on.
“Not bad,” I murmured to myself as I turned slowly in front of the mirror. “As long as the hat doesn’t come off, I might pull this off.”
Going back into the closet, I yanked two long-sleeved layering t-shirts off the hangers and put them on over some jeans. Next I grabbed my hiking boots and the cap. Reaching up out of habit to brush back my hair that was no longer there before I put the hat on, I felt stubble all over my head. It was already growing.
I pulled the cap down tightly over my head and grabbed a coat to pull on over the t-shirts. Although I wasn’t the least bit cold, I wanted Asa to think I was preparing for the chill when we went out tonight. It would help explain the hat. Lastly, I picked up the stake and tucked it into the waistband of my pants. The jeans were snug and kept it tightly against my body. The layers of clothes along with the coat completely obscured its outline and I could only hope Asa wouldn’t try to feel me up tonight. That would certainly be my doom.
Now with nothing to do but wait, I stood in the hallway, trapped and anxious. There was really nothing else I could do to prepare and nowhere I could go. The sun still hadn’t completely set and the apprehension that it created had never subsided, although it had been relieved by the confines of the closet.
The anxiety had been building all day but I had so far been able to ignore it as I had something to occupy my mind. But now there was nothing left to do except wait. Wait for Asa to return and for me to meet whatever future lay ahead. Needing to find some way to keep it controllable, I walked into the living room. Glancing around the room, my eyes fell on the scrapbook I had made for Ellie. Grabbing it from where it was hidden, I dashed into her bedroom.
Kneeling down in front of her bookshelf, I ran my hand across the bindings of her favorite books. We had read them together so many times that the spines were beginning to give way and even though I would buy her new books, she insisted on reading these on a weekly basis. Pushing my fingers between her two favorites, I slid the scrapbook between them.
Standing up, I walked over to her bed and lay down, hugging her pillow to my face. I breathed in her smell as deeply as I could. Her scent was like heaven and realizing that this might be as close as I would ever get to her or heaven, which were one and the same really, I sucked in my breath several more times. But knowing I couldn’t stay here forever, I put her pillow down giving it one last final pat and walked back into the living room.
Even though I was not completely vampire yet, I could tell the day was drawing to a close and the night would be here soon. I could feel it coming and I wanted it to come because I felt like I was suffocating in this house.
I checked my pulse. I’m not sure why since I had listened to my heart all day, but its slow rise and fall against the pads of my fingertips was still reassuring and I left my fingers there over my radial artery. Would I realize it the moment it stopped? Would I feel that along with the rest of my enhanced sensations?
My heart seemed to beat in unison to the ticking of the clock. Slow and steady, marking the time until the sun was completely set. Would it be this way every evening? Would I feel as though my skin was crawling right off my body, waiting for the sun to go down?
You could have spun me around in the house blindfolded, and I could have stopped and pointed in the direction of the setting sun without uncovering my eyes. Its power sent tingles down my spine even from within the house.
Slowly, it seemed like an eternity, I felt it dip down behind the peaks of the not-so-distant mountains. The night had finally returned and the only way I can explain how I felt is to say I felt alive again.
Breathing a sigh of relief. I couldn’t wait for Asa to arrive, I wanted to… I wanted to… I’m not sure what it was that I wanted to do. But there was something I needed to do.
Hunger. That’s what it was. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything all day and I was hungry and thirsty. Both of which had suddenly become overwhelming but I couldn’t decide which was stronger. The hunger or the thirst. They were both too powerful to ignore. I had to have something now.
Walking into the kitchen, I jerked open the refrigerator door. Grabbing the turkey and cheese only because they were the first food that my eyes fell on, I began ripping the wrappings off of both, shoving each piece into my mouth as quickly as possible.
Chewing only enough to be able to swallow, I ate every last piece of both packages. But I still wasn’t full. And the thirst was even greater. My throat felt like it had crevices from how dry it was. I drank almost half a gallon of orange juice, all that was left in the refrigerator, and I was thirstier than I had ever been.
Throwing the carton onto the floor out of anger, I pulled out a barstool and sat down, not knowing what else to do. I had to wait for Asa. Not that I could explain any of this to him, but at least maybe he would be able to distract me by his presence alone. But the more I thought about it, the more sure I was that I was wrong.
It seemed I had been listening for an eternity now as I sat there waiting for Asa to arrive. The clarity of my new hearing had been a constant reminder of my ever approaching death as I could not even escape the sounds of my life running out. Even the oppressive silence of Asa's dead heart weighed heavy on my ears.
I had listened as the mundane world around me had morphed into something I would have never acknowledged only a week ago. Sitting here waiting for certain death, one way or another, I struggled to keep from clamping my hands against my ears to drown out the noises of a world that in a few short hours might no longer be recognizable to me.
Despite my anger at my ever constant listening, I could not keep from straining my ears, hoping that I would catch some sound that the Detective had returned. Even during my seclusion in the saferoom, I had studied the occasional noise that made it through the thick walls, hoping for the doorbell or even police sirens. But Michael had never came or at least, I hadn't heard him.
What had I expected? He had no real reason to return other than a gut feelings and night terrors that could not be substantiated away from Asa's terrifying presence. But still I had been sure that I had not seen the last of him.
Alone all day, I couldn't help but wish for some living companionship, to see a face that didn't want me dead. I reminded myself to be glad that he hadn't came. I was in no condition to see him. More likely than not, I was as dangerous to him as Asa and so I forced myself to listen for my reality and not my fantasy.
Almost on cue, I heard footsteps and I recognized them. Asa moved almost without sound and I would’ve never heard them as a human. Still unaccustomed to my recently acquired hearing, his footsteps sounded close enough that I thought he must be in the entryway.
Standing up suddenly enough that I knocked the barstool over, I walked as lightly as possible towards the front door, expecting to see him at every turn. I felt territorial and it angered me that he was even here. This was my home, my territory, and he shouldn’t be here.
After m
aking my way into the entryway, I realized the footsteps I had heard weren’t coming from the entryway. I had heard him coming across the yard and he was now walking in through the front door.
Instincts told me to rip him apart, piece by piece, but luckily my will was stronger than my instincts and I knew I had to hold this together until the right moment. Doubting that I was strong enough to challenge him now, I needed to buy as much time as I could so I would have as much strength as possible.
I had been feeling my strength increasing throughout the day, but not knowing when it would peak, I was afraid to attack him too soon. Urges that I couldn’t explain or even put a name to were rippling through me. I wanted to kill him now more than ever.
I had wanted him dead before but now my desire to kill him seemed to have territorial overtones. I needed his knowledge almost as much as I needed time, and so I needed to keep my emotions and instincts under control. And to do that, I needed to get out of this house.
Taking a deep breath and putting on my most placid face, I turned towards him just as he turned the corner into the room. We were facing each other now and I recognized the predator in him as well. Not that I had been immune to it before tonight, but now I recognized it in his every movement.
There was something missing though. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, however, since I had never spent a great deal of time around true predators. I took a deep breath as he walked over to me. He didn’t smell of fear. He smelled of lust. I could smell my own fear, which I’m sure had been present since his arrival so he didn’t recognize it as different or new. But he wasn’t afraid of me, which was good; it gave me an advantage over him.
“Let’s go.” I nodded towards the front door. I turned and walked out the door without waiting for his reply. I could hear his near silent footsteps behind me, but I turned around to appear that I needed to see him following me, walking backwards for a moment.
“In a hurry?” he asked, quickly closing the gap behind me.