Death to Mortality

Chapter 1. The Day That I Died

Being a vampire, sucks. Oh ha ha, I know its real funny, vampire puns.... but if you put all the immortality and blood drinking, sleeping during the day and the stereotype that everyone believes you speak with a thick Romanian accent aside, being a member of the legions of the un-dead bites harder than a diabetic kid chomping down on a forbidden bar of chocolate. But I wasn't always this way. At one point, I was a normal college girl, with my normal college girl pursuits. And a good and normal job at Hot Topic. I never dreamed that one day I would be a vampire, nor had I ever dreamed that I would get roped into a centuries old war between Humans and Monsters. But in order to tell you about this crazy messed up life I have now, I should give you a taste of my life before I became a blood sucking freak.

My life was really not all that exciting. I lived in a two bedroom apartment with my Mother, and younger sister. My mom was always busy, so she was never home, and my Sister was still in high school, but was about to graduate and get her bachelors at the same time. She was smart, and I'll admit, I got jealous. I was the problem child, the goth girl who snuck out to concerts, and smoked and drank, and had more piercings and tattoos than I could count on my hands and feet together. My dad had been in the picture for the first 5 years of my life, until my sister was born, and then, according to mom, He felt the call of the wild, and went off on some back-packing trip around the world, and had eventually found a girl younger than him in Bangladesh, and ended up marrying her. My mom took it hard, especially because they had been high school sweethearts. That's when she started taking classes, and became a stewardess, flying to exotic locations daily, meeting exciting people, and doing her best to forget about dad.

It all boiled down to one fateful night, when one of our newer friends, who obviously didn't know what being Goth means, dragged us all to a Vampire Weekend Concert. It wasn't all that bad, but not enjoyable either. I would have preferred Cradle of Filth, or Dathura, but it was what it was, and we found ourselves at Silvanas, eating pie and drinking coffee. I should explain, our group of friends were a bit unique, Silvana was a perky goth, all leather belts with spikes and vibrantly pink hair. Crimson, another member of our quote unquote, posse, was a Carnival Goth. She constantly dressed in her favorite black and white striped short dress with red sash. Then there was Everild, the only guy of the group, was a more traditional goth. All dark clothing, liquid paper white face and more makeup on than the entire cheer-leading squad. And then there's me, Artemia, the Victorian goth. I tended to wear old style dresses with lots of lace, and hoop skirts underneath that made them fill out from the waist down. All together, we were the "goths" and that's mainly because no one understands us, or tries to. We normally get left alone, and that's just fine by us.

That night, we sat on Silvanas porch, quietly observing the night sky as the hours slipped slowly by, and one by one, Crimson, Everild and I, left for our own homes. Crimson and Everild lived in the opposite direction of me, so I ended up walking home by myself in my floor length dress, my parasol hanging from my arm as I no longer needed it. I passed by the main street near my home, and into the shadows of the trees lining the sidewalk. I felt something strange, and felt the back of my neck, and to my surprise, the hairs at the nape of my neck standing rigidly on end. I quickened my pace, my heeled boots clicking against the concrete with every step. I could not shake the feeling that there was someone following me, watching me, dogging my every step. I paused, and all sounds ceased, not even the breeze dared to stir. I held my breath, and began to walk forward slowly. Whatever was behind me kept pace with me as I sped up, finally breaking into a run, my lace-trimmed dress trailing through the air as I ran. Reaching the safety of the apartment building, I took the stairs three at a time until I reached the fourth floor, and barreled down the hallway to out door. I fumbled with the keys as panic began to set in. I could hear the sound of someone on the stairwell, slowly getting closer and closer, taking their time, almost as if they knew that they had me trapped. The key slipped through my fingers as I tried to turn it in the lock, and I fumbled for it, finally feeling the dull thunk as the deadbolt clunked into place. I opened the door, and slipped inside, shutting and locking the door as quietly as I could manage.

It was dark inside out apartment, which struck me as odd. Usually my sister left the kitchen light on for me, especially on nights when Mom was on a red eye. I flicked the switch near the door. Nothing. I groaned, and walked forward, my hands held out in front of me in the darkness while my eyes adjusted. I made it to the bathroom, and paused. the linoleum floor was sticky, almost like someone had spilled kool-aid and left it to sit in the heat all day. I pulled my phone from my purse and turned it on, the bright light of the LED screen lighting up the dark room like a mini sun. IO aimed the screen at the floor and screamed. The floor was covered in what looked like blood. Splashes of the goopy red stuff were splattered all over the walls, mirror and shower curtains, and I felt my stomach twisting at the sight of it. As I lowered my phone, the light shone on something that should not have been there, a hand was peeking out from behind the curtain. Shaking, I stepped forward and slowly drew the curtains aside, and I turned away and vomited at the sight. It was my sister, laying in the tub with her throat torn open, partly submerged in her own blood. I vomited again, and backed away quickly, bumping into the door frame of the bathroom.

"I didn't want to hurt her" A mans voice came from behind me, deep and gravelly, and I spun on the spot, my one free hand raised in a tight fist.

"Who's there!" I demanded, trying to sound intimidating and confident, although the shaking in my voice betrayed me.

"I didn't want to hurt her, but she made me, I never wanted to hurt my little girl" The mysterious person stepped forward into the light, revealing the sharp angular features that were so similar to my own.

"D....Dad?!" I exclaimed, and then screamed as he lunged forward at me, knocking me to the ground.

"This wont hurt if you don't fight it" he said, his gravelly voice grating against my eardrum as he lowered his mouth to my neck, pulling the high collar down. Suddenly, pain shot through me as he bit down hard. I screamed as I felt the two sharp canines pierce through my flesh, and then they were gone. The pain however, stayed, like fire coursing through me. I shook, and through my tears, I saw my dad perched on the windowsill like some demonic cat. "come find me, if you survive" he said and disappeared into the night, as I lay on the floor, writing in pain.

It went on for hours, well into the morning, as the sun rose and light streamed in through the windows. The pain had begun to subside, but I lay there motionless, too terrified at what had happened to move. It wasn't until a ray of sunlight touched the tip of my fingers, that I screamed again, and pulled my arm away, the tip of my fingers blistered and red. I looked at the injury, and watched as it healed right before my eyes. Somehow it seemed like too much, to fantastical, too unnatural, but as the burn in my throat began to grow, a thirst for something forbidden, I knew it had to be true. Yesterday had been my last day, my last moments of being alive. Today, I was a Vampire.