Drawn to a Vampire (4 page)

And then I ran.

I ran back
to my flat and packed a bag.  I knew food would be useless, but I packed a blanket, coat, spare clothes, towel, some photos of my family and friends, and a few girly bits and bobs.  I didn’t look at Rachel’s body – I couldn’t face it.

And I ran, ran from my home, ran from my city, and soon I was out of there, out of the city and out on the roads, alone, and eventually I was in the woods.  My former life over.  My new life just beginning.

I collapsed back against a wide trunked tree.  I felt numb, in shock.  I knew that I had done terrible, terrible things, things I could never take back.  I could not apologise and go home.  I couldn’t give those people back their lives, and their families back their loved ones I had taken from them.  My life had ruined theirs.

Luca had done this to me. 

Luca. 

I should have hated him, I knew this.  This was his fault.  But my heart longed for him.  Called out for him.  These men I’d met tonight, the men I’d been physical with, they hadn’t brought back the feelings I’d experienced with Luca, not even close.  I wanted to see Luca again, but I had no idea how to find him, or even where to start.  Instead I sat there feeling hollow. 

Empty. 

Mute. 

Destroyed.

The night time sounds passed me by.  I wasn’t aware of my surroundings, I was consumed by my inner turmoil.  I didn’t emerge from this state until the sun started to rise and I began to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. 

Agitated. 

I knew I needed to find somewhere dark to spend the day. 

Fast. 

My survival instincts kicked in, I guess, and I found a fresh spring of energy and got to my feet, hauling my rucksack onto my back.  After my performance the previous night, I knew I was capable of faster movement, but I just didn’t feel like moving, so I trudged through bushes, off path, deeper into the forest. 

My smell sense had definitely improved, although I wasn’t in the mood to delight in this. I smelled the distant scent of pine, and I headed in that direction, and fortunately I got lucky.  I found as much shelter as I could hope for before the sun came over the horizon.  A densely packed pine forest.  Under the boughs it was spookily dark – perfect.  I snuck in deeper, walking on compacted earth littered with dead pine needles, until I thought I was deep enough not to be found, and then I tossed my belongings on the floor and used my rucksack as a pillow, and I didn’t wake until dark. 

Immediately I felt thirsty, and with this my heart started thumping in my chest.  What was I supposed to do?  After last night, when I’d been ravaged by hunger, and I’d lost myself to it, I knew this meant I was in a dangerous situation.  I couldn’t do that again.  Could I?  I imagined myself living in the shadows, feeding off people who strayed from the crowds. 

Shit no. 

I would not return to the city.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself.  I heard an owl hooting and small animals scurrying.  In fact the forest was alive with sound.  I took another deep breath – and the smell – much more vivid than before this happened.  I could smell the trees and the earth and the animals. 

Thud thud, thud thud, thud thud. 

I could hear lots of pulses. 

My own pulse quickened.  Could I?  I rose to my feet and opened myself up to my surroundings.  If I could do this … if I could live like this.… 

I heard the nearest pulse and zeroed in – like an owl choosing its prey, and then I soared, soared over the earth, and I dived, and I had a mouse in my hand.  It struggled and wriggled and I heard its pulse go through the roof.  I held it tightly, hesitating.  This didn’t exactly have the same seductive, compelling thing going for it.  It was not sexy.  It was kind of weird.  But it was a lifeline. 

I brought the mouse to my lips and bit, my fangs sliding through the grey fur, sinking into the body – and I drank – and in one gulp the mouse was dead.  It wasn’t revolting exactly.  Its blood still tasted rich and metallic and full of life – it just wasn’t enough.  I needed something bigger.

I opened myself up again.  It felt like I was expanding beyond my body – sensing the world around me.  I heard a heavier thudding further away than before.  I raced forwards, leaping through the woods, ducking low, avoiding branches, swinging around trees, my feet light.  A predator.  I moved with barely a sound.  And my eyesight.  I could see in the dark, but it was different from before – the leaves, the ground, the animals – their colours were more vivid.  Beautiful.  It wasn’t like seeing in the daytime, I still couldn’t see far, but within a few feet I felt I had the vision of an owl – sharp and focused – and the hearing of a bat.  It zeroed in on that heartbeat, and I was out of the pine forest and into old woodland in a second. 

I paused.  Before me a badger looked up, startled.  Its pointy nose sniffed at the air, its eyes shone like black beads, and the back of its fur had so much depth of colour, purples and blues.  I took a step towards it and it turned from me, sticking its nose under low bushes, searching for insects or something.  There I was, the most powerful of predators – and my prey was not even scared.  It wasn’t a hunt – it was a buffet.  And I was ravenous. 

My teeth tingled and I leaped down, pushing the weight of my body onto the badgers back and holding its head still with one hand.  The badger was strong, but it barely fought me.  With my spare hand I pushed its fur apart at the neck and leaned forwards, then I sank my pointed teeth through its skin and drank its rich blood. 

Now that was more satisfying, more of a substitute for human blood.  But it still was not enough.  When the badger became limp beneath me I hunted again.  And again.  And again.  Until my appetite was satiated.

The final animal I managed to leave alive.  I discovered that the more satiated I was the easier it was to stop.  I decided if I was going to survive this, and learn not to kill, I’d have to keep myself well fed.  I could not skimp on meals.  I hated that I’d killed those animals – on top of the human lives I’d taken – and I wanted to at least minimise my kill count. And I wanted to kill no more humans. 

Ever again. 

I could not lose control like I had last night. 

Suddenly it all came rushing back.  Rachel.  Rachel dead. 

Poor Rachel. 

And the other people.  Those people who were no longer breathing.  No longer a part of this world.  My blood started to boil and my heart pounded.  I felt like hitting something.  Screaming. 

And, ‘WTF?’ I thought.  I was alone out there, crazed and alone. 

So I went wild.  I smashed my body against the nearest tree trunk, over and over again, until I was cut and bleeding, and I screamed.  I screamed as loud as my throat and lungs would allow.  I screamed and screamed, and cursed and yelled. 

And I cried.

Eventually I became worn out with all the violence, and I slumped against the damaged tree.  I felt guilty for hurting the damn tree.  Just to add to the huge dark well of grief and guilt already inside me.  I laughed darkly.  Quite the pickle I was in.  Was this how I was going to spend the rest of my days?  Alone in the woods?  Hunting animals?  A savage? 

Well, a savage, surely I was. 

I got up and walked mutely back to my bag.  And there I sat, wallowing in my grief, until dawn started to approach.  To ward off terrible thirst striking again I went and hunted some game.  I drank the blood of three deer, managing to preserve the lives only of the second two.  And then I slept the daylight away.

So much time passed in this manner. Days and nights came and went, and I became progressively dirtier and dirtier.  And my guilt turned into a deep depression and loneliness.  I wondered about my family and friends.  What they were thinking.  What they were going through.  Whether I was labelled missing.  Whether they all thought I was dead.  Whether they knew it was me who had done those things, or whether they thought me a victim too.  I felt a great guilt inside.  I had no home, no connections.  I had gone from being surrounded by people and feeling alone, to being truly alone. 

How I wanted to kick my former self. 

To tell myself how lucky I’d been. How fortunate.  How I shouldn’t have been so reckless.  How I should have just stopped.  Taken a deep breath.  Slowed down.  For then I had been human.  And now I was a monster. 

Destined to be lonely for ever.

Autumn arrived.  I started to accept what I’d become, what I’d done, and that I couldn’t take it back.  I also knew I couldn’t go on in this manner.  I hadn’t talked to another human being in way too long.  I had seen humans, spied on them while hiding in the trees, but I had kept myself away.  For one thing, I didn’t know if I could be trusted.  I had mastered the act of feeding from animals and only taking a little from each one, not enough to seriously harm them, or so I hoped, but I hadn’t yet been tested on humans.  What if it was different?  What if I killed again? 

The other reason I couldn’t show myself (apart from the obvious fear of discovery), was shame. I had seriously let myself go, my hair had become matted and dread-like, my skin smeared in dirt and dried blood.  But I knew I couldn’t live with this loneliness forever … I knew my chances of ever seeing Luca again were slim.  But I longed for that connection. 

I wanted to meet a man, someone I could talk to and be intimate with.  Someone who would make me forget about Luca. 

It was time to test myself.  But before I could do that I needed to get myself sorted, to do something about my appearance.  I still had all the things I’d taken from my home, unused in the bag I carted from wood to wood, and it was time to put these things to good use.  By this point my rucksack was definitely on the scruffy side, but at least I hadn’t discarded it in one of my fits of rage.  Inside my belongings were untouched.  It felt strange looking through them, like rekindling a connection to my past.  My previous life.  I wasn’t ready to look at the photographs I’d brought, so I tucked those at the back and rummaged for shampoo, conditioner, moisturiser and makeup.  And the all important hairbrush.  Brushing my matted hair was a task I wasn’t looking forward to in the least. 

I also pulled out a small towel and some clean clothes.  I’d found a gentle stream, deep enough to submerge myself to my waist, and perched beside it in the moonlight.  The water sparkled softly and I let my eyes settle on the moon’s reflection as it rippled in the current. 

I felt serene. 

At peace with what I’d become for the first time. 

I felt ready to take the next step, like I was at a junction in my life and things could only change from here on in.

I stripped off my clothes and stood on the stream bank.  Naked, exposed.  I shivered, but out of a habit from the past, as I was not cold.  I guess that was part of my transformation.  So many things I felt more extremely, experienced with clarity.  Not temperature.  I didn’t crave the heat of the sun on my skin.  All that had changed. 

And I didn’t fear icy water. 

I didn’t fear darkness. 

Before I had changed I would never have slept in the woods alone, or not even with friends – I would have lain awake all night listening to the sounds of the forest – scared of discovery, of wild animals, of ghosts.  Now, I reflected, was there anything more scary than what I’d become?

I dived into the water, not scared of hitting the bottom, not scared of dying.  A part of me was already dead.  If I ‘died’ now, what of it?  It would keep others safe. 

It would be my retribution. 

But I didn’t die, nor did I even hit the bottom.  I glided through the clear water, then drifted to the surface, in no hurry, taking in the sounds of the stream’s currents and eddies, small rocks being moved by the motion, fish swimming nearby.  Then I broke through in to the night air and took a deep breath, smelling the leafy trees, the autumn crunch and coolness. 

I sighed.  If only I had someone here to share this experience with.  How hard would it be to find the right person?  And how could I tell if they liked me, for being me, when whatever chemicals I gave off as a vampire drew people in?  I thought, and thought, but couldn’t come up with a solution.  I decided I’d have to accept that couldn’t be the case.  It would be my choice.  The person I choose probably wouldn’t have much say in the matter, they would be confounded by my scent, or something.  I’d just have to try and make sure I didn’t eat them.

I swam to the side and lathered myself up with soap, then plunged back under the water.  Thinking, and trying not to, trying to let the water wash away my worries.  When I was all done I stepped out and let the breeze tickle at my skin, before picking up my towel.  I wrapped myself up, smothered my hair in conditioner, and then got to work with the brush.  It took a long time, hours, to get the tangles out.  By the time I was done it was nearly dawn, time to hunt before my daytime slumber.

I woke up as night time approached.  How was I to go about finding a man when I couldn’t come out in the day?  It’s not as though many men wondered the woods at night…. 

A campsite maybe?  The problem with that was summer had passed, and such places would surely be deserted by now.  But I decided it was worth a try.