Child of Nowhere

Dalek

'They're all dead because of you!'

'I never thought I'd see the sunlight again.'

'That thing killed hundreds of people.'

'That thing down there is going to kill every last one of us!'

'...and all that time it was screaming. It must have gone insane...'

You've heard bits and pieces of it, 30 Days Of Night. I was going through a phase, dark clothes dark nails, the shebang. I was staying up late so I could watch the good horror movies. Stuff like The Shining, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Saw.

It was good. A few times, I ended up Jumping there just so I could feed my hero complex. Story, what an idiot I was. I was in over my head.

Then one night, a week before I turned thirteen on Earth, I saw 30 Days of Night. Vampires were things I avoided on principle. These were true vampires, the ones you hear of in horror stories from centuries ago. The kind of vampires that would tear Twilight fans to shreds. They couldn't be reasoned with, they didn't have restraint, they only wanted to eat.

They were like zombies mixed with vampires, which I guess is just what a vampire actually is. Undead creature eating live humans, except vampires have some kind of survival instinct. Again, a subject I avoided. But damn my young and foolish heart. I didn't think of the consequences of when it all went wrong. I only saw people in pain.

The first person I saved was an electrician at the power plant. The vampire that was going to kill him, I managed to deflect so the man could run. It was stupid, because guess who ended up being the replacement meal?

The vampire bit me, but didn't kill me. I remember my blood boiling in my skin, and horrible feeling of my heart slowing to a stop.

The rest of it felt foggy. I could see it, all of it, but it never felt like it was me doing it. I was watching my life through the eyes of someone else. I screamed for her to stop, for someone to help me. The thing controlling my body only laughed. The more I screamed the worse it was.

I never saw sunlight, just the moon and stars, and lamps. Sometimes, I caught reflection. My eyes had been changed from their constant amber to a dark orange, and they were covered in gaudy eyeliner and eyeshadow. I was wearing provocative clothes. My black hair was let down, falling past my shoulders in betrayingly calm waves. My cheeks were rosy pink, and I had blood on my jaw that I knew wasn't my own. I was still physically twelve years old, like the night I turned.

I heard screaming from all ages. Mothers begged me not to hurt their children, spouses begged for their partner, and others begged not to die. She never answered their pleas. She made it worse. It was always worse...

Fifty years of this. Of living my life in a fog, like a nightmare where you were lucid enough to know it was a dream but unable to change anything.

I screamed, probably driving myself insane in the process.

I killed, anything and everything that I could eat.

I killed everything that tried to harm me.

I know I talk about her like she was an entirely different person. In a lot of ways, she was. That's not true, though. She's not someone complete separate. She's me, and she's everything I hate about myself.

She doesn't save, she kills. She doesn't help, she maims. She's not your friend, she's your predator.

When I finally woke up, I felt my heart beating in my chest. I was dressed in a nightgown, and I was in a big soft bed. This wasn't her style. She hated soft, and covering herself. She'd rather sleep in silk satin sheets, and wear as little as possible.