So I Might Be a Vampire - Book 1 (Original Version)

Prologue: Burn Motherfucker, Burn

Pro Tip for Humans #41: you can either look like a badass, or you can be the badass.

The cherry-red Camaro raced across the desert highway like a bat with its ass lit on fire, a plume of dust rising from the road behind it. The dust served two purposes. One: it made the car look completely badass, and two: it obscured the coming light of dawn that promised to drown the land in the light of a new goddamn day.

I wish I could say that I was watching this scene from a great distance, knowing that something epic was about to occur, but that would not be accurate. Like at all. More like what people call a lie.

Focus now on the muscle car ploughing its way across the landscape, its windows tinted a very illegal shade of dark. If you had any desire to meet any vampires on that morning, you would have had to look no further than that car.

"Almost there Bobbikins! Two minutes and then you're going to BURN!" said the crazed, yet extremely attractive blonde woman who drove the car as aggressively as she could. "I've got a nice spot picked out just for you!"

Beatrice was the kind of woman that this muscle car had been made for. The designer hadn't known it at the time of course, but if pressed he might have described a scene just like this—beautiful blonde woman manhandling his well-designed and loud assemblage of machinery across a desert. He may have anticipated that this woman would be decked out in black from head-to-toe, including the leather gloves on her hands and the leather jacket that fit her curves as if it had been tailored for her, which in fact it had been. He may have also anticipated that she would be an expert driver. What he definitely would have not considered was that this woman was a vampire.

Since she isn't the one telling this story, and because I'm still very pissed off at her, I'm going to lie and say that she isn't that important. The reason I'm still pissed off at her is that at that very moment, I was in the trunk of the car and it was not getting any more comfortable.

"I don't want to burn!" I yelled back, although it was doubtful how much she could hear me over the noise of the engine, then again vampire hearing is pretty damn good. "I don't want to do any of this!"

"Dying is the only way to truly live!" Beatrice yelled back.

"That doesn't make any sense!"

I kicked once again at the closed trunk even though my efforts so far had been futile. I had no idea how long I had been in the trunk, but it wasn't someplace I wanted to stay. Smears and streaks of my blood covered almost every surface in the trunk. It was like a freaking Jackson Pollock painting if he had only had the colour red to work with. Yes, I can see in the dark, one of the handy things about being a vampire. My hands were almost hamburger by that point from constantly hammering on every available surface. When someone is threatening to throw you out at sunrise and set you on fire, you kinda owe it to yourself to avoid that fate with as much energy as possible. The kick worked this time; there came the creak and snap of something metal breaking--

The trunk flew open with almost no effort, and I stared stupidly at the open space for way too long, the cloud of dust rising behind the car painting the scene with a sense of surreal what-the-fuck. I hadn't even had time to really process what had happened and to be honest, I had zero plans beyond getting the damn trunk open.

Over the roaring wind, I somehow heard Beatrice swear.

I didn't wait.

I cursed myself for being an atheist since I didn't have any kind of god to pray to or swear at, and threw myself out of the back of the car.