Vampirism | ✓

19 | The Tightrope

Making a newborn vampire was a delicate art. You had to feed on them, but not so much that they mystified and became nothing, and not too little that they were too weak to even eat blood when they were reanimated. You needed to bring them close enough to death, but not quite there, so that they could reanimate and be able to mimic demons and ghosts on earth. They had to find a balance on the tightrope of life and death. Preferably in the middle, but a little to the left or right didn't hurt.

"Wern," Haruto called out to me, making me blink. I stared at his deep brown eyes, licking my lips as I lowered my hands from his face. We were sitting on his bed together. Haruto had taken off the clothes he had worn to the meeting and was now in black boxers in order to make the mess easier to clean when I was done changing him.

"Are you okay? Your hands are shaking," Wern asked, reaching for the hand as had on his shoulder now.

I let out a sigh, closing my eyes briefly. "I know."

"I'm just scared." I opened my eyes. I had explained to Haruto that the process wasn't as easy as it sounded. If I got too drunk on his memories, I might not be able to stop myself, and would completely consume him. I didn't want that.

"That won't happen," he insisted, giving me a small smile. "Come on, let's get this over with before I freak out, and back out," he said, laughing a little before leaning forward to catch my lips. We kissed for a while, breaking contact only when we needed to breathe.

"I trust you," Haruto said, taking both of my hands before using them to cup his face. He let go, and my hands lingered on his cheeks as I stared at him. I was glad he trusted me, but the issue was that I didn't trust myself.

"It's going to take a few days for you to wake up," I muttered. "If you wake up."

Haruto didn't flinch. "I know, I sent a message to my manager telling him I can't be on call until stated otherwise," he said.

"Okay." I took in a deep breath before staring down at the space between us. My jaws grew tender as my canines extended and my eyes watered. The memories lacing Haruto's body became more vivid. They bounced on his skin like beads in a shaker. I could tell Haruto was skittish, but he didn't show it in his face.

Haruto and I had been dating for months, but aside from the time he caught me trying to eat, he's never seen my fangs.

"You can close your eyes," I whispered as I looked up at him again. "I know I'm not the greatest sight to behold right now, it's okay. I won't get offended." I laughed, caressing his face.

"No, it's fine," he insisted, tilting his head a bit to give me access to his neck. "You look beautiful." He smiled at me, making me raise a brow at him.

Beautiful.

I wanted to laugh at that word. With bloodshot eyes, paper-white skin, green popping veins, and gruesome sharp teeth ready to dig themselves into his skin, the only word that Haruto could find was, beautiful. He possibly couldn't mean that—or maybe he did. It was Haruto after all.

My chest was filled with fluttering butterflies, and I took the chance to tilt his head a little more before leaning closer to him. Haruto didn't take his eyes off me, they watched as I hesitated before finding the right placement.

"It's okay, so do it," he said as he held me by the small of my back with one hand and rubbed circles into my quivering back with the other. "If I don't survive, I hope you at least eat well enough—"

I chopped down, not wanting to hear him go on about that—about him dying. Haruto let out a cry as the memories coursed through me and fueled my bloodstream. It was as overwhelming as I had expected. I didn't have to serve through or dig too deep. It was just trauma, compounded with trauma, and seasoned with more trauma. All those bits and pieces that he had shredded, and I had eaten were forming full vivid high definition pictures now.

My mouth grew numb from feeding. Usually, it would take a maximum of five minutes to get through a meal, but I've been sitting on the bed with Haruto in his arms as he quivered from pain for at least ten. I wasn't sure it was going to stop, and I was having a hard time forcing myself to remain mentally present so I could gauge when it was a good time to stop.

When he closes his eyes. I reminded myself. Once he's limp, and all that's left is a thin almost translucent film of memory mass.

Half an hour later, and Haruto's hand fell from my back. The first sign. I paused, pulling away from him as quickly as I could. Haruto's body was heavy on mine now, and I noticed that his eyes were closed.

With a swiftness, I laid Haruto on the bed before examining his body. A film of black lingered on the puncture wound site and well-known areas where his memories pooled like his chest, hands, and neck.

I let out a sigh of relief, kneeling beside the bed as I watched his face. My eyes fell to his own. I could see the blood bubbling, but this time it was mixed with black goo that went about closing the deep puncture. His heart was still beating. I could hear it, but it was low—slower.

It could take anything from a few hours to a few days for him to reanimate, but I was banking on a few days considering how long it had taken for me to tilt him towards the other end. A lot of humans turned vampires ended up in a coma long enough that they woke up in their graves or mortuaries. Grave robbing wasn't as common as people thought. It was mostly just scared undead newborns breaking free and running away.

I reached out to push hair away from his face so that I could stare at his features. His lips, his eyelashes, his cheekbones. Haruto's skin was already turning an ungodly white color.

I should get blood ready for him, for when he wakes up. I thought to myself, starting to make a checklist of things that would make his return comfortable. I decided to call in sick at work sometime later as well because I didn't want to be away from the apartment when Haruto woke up.

"Come back soon," I whispered, resting my head beside his before drifting into sleep.