I gasped roughly, my vocal chords creating a distressed wheezing sound as the momentary blackness disappeared and casted me back into the present mere moments later. It had been so dark, so still, so lifeless; it felt like the purest form of nothingness. It was something that I had never experienced in my entire existence and I was positive that I knew what it was -I had just felt death.
What had begun as an illicitly delicious mix of pleasure and pain was rapidly taking a turn for the worst. Even in my supernaturally induce haze I could no longer tolerate the white hot pain of Darius’s razor sharp fangs that were still firmly lodged into my main artery. The wounds tore a little wider as the frenzy of his thirst brought forth the true predatory nature of a demon that belonged in the darkest parts of hell.
The more the pleasure waned, the stronger my desire to free myself from his kiss of death became.
I began to whimper and struggle against him, but by this time there was too much of his venom polluting my system rendering me to the point of weakness that I was damn near immobile. The only reason that I was still able to stand was because Darius was supporting me with his inhumanly strong arms carrying all of my weight while he fed, effortlessly.
The movies always made vampire bites look horrifically painful, but never in a billion years did I imagine that it would feel like this.
The wound that Darius was drinking from so greedily, as if my blood was the most delectable thing he had ever tasted, hurt the most. It felt like he had stabbed me in the neck with a two-pronged knife and was twisting the blades slowly so that I could feel every agonising ounce of pain possible.
His venom coursed through my veins, tainting my blood and attacking my nervous system. With each second that passed I could feel sections of my body so overwhelmed by the acidic burn that they surrendered and shut down, dropping to temperatures below freezing level. My entire body, once hot and buzzing with adrenaline, now felt unnaturally cool, heavy and limp, every muscle possessing a numbing ache.
I whimpered again, wanting to cry out and beg Darius to stop, but my feeble human noises only encouraged his vampiric bloodlust. He clutched me tighter and groaned throatily against my skin, slowly sliding his practiced hands down my back so that he could press my lower religion closer to his as he sucked harder at my neck. I could feel his icy tongue sweeping across my skin to lick away any of the warm red liquid that escaped his ravenous lips. He wasn’t about to waste a single drop.
Death’s darkness was gradually returning. My heart was beating sluggishly, my mind was losing consciousness -I was dying.
This wasn’t what I had imagined my death to be like. I’d always figured that I’d die old and alone in some uncomfortable hospital bed from some severe illness inevitably brought on by years of excessive smoking and drinking, not down the road from my college in the arms of the creature that plagued my dreams. Not by a vampire.
My eyelids grew heavier making the darkness more potent. The level of pain began to subside as with each chest rattling gasp my lungs began to fill with blood and I slipped further into the afterlife. Death was now inviting, enticing me with bittersweet promises of eternal peace. I didn’t even possess the will to fight, which was so unlike me but there was no point, I was no match for a vampire. It hurt too much so I figured the sooner it was over, the better.
I felt the blood rise up into my throat, and then the rusty taste of it spread across my tongue. Breathing was no longer an option. I released a final surrendering gasp, accepting my fate. My eyes teared up and I choked on the blood, then just like that, the pain stopped and everything was black once more.
*
I stood on a deserted back road in the same oversized grey hoody and jeans that I had worn to college, near what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse.
The building was covered in a thick layer of grease and grime that turned the bricks sooty and the windows murky. A few of the windows were shattered, their edges jagged and threatening conveying an air of danger to ward off anyone that would be tempted to trespass. The huge double door clattered noisily in the wind that ripped though the building, making an awful shrieking sound as it sailed through the windows. There were a few other buildings along the street in the same derelict condition, some with heavy iron chains hanging from the door, some with the chains broken and the door ajar, and some with torn white and blue police tape flapping in the breeze.
I was unsure of where I was and how on earth I had gotten here. I was supposed to be dead. Darius had literally just sucked the life out of me so what was I doing on a desolate street alive and alone? Where was Darius?
Feeling vulnerable, I yanked my hood over my head and folded my arms not wanting to touch anything. This place reeked of ill-omens.
I furrowed my brow; none of this made any sense; I had been on my way home, Darius showed up, killed me and now suddenly I’m here. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe I’m still dreaming.
I felt a spurt of joy at the possibility that my life wasn’t over when I noticed that there was something vital missing. My heart didn’t skip. As a matter of fact, my heart wasn’t beating at all.
“Oh no,” I gasped pressing my hand to my chest, anxious to feel the familiar rhythmic thud. It wasn’t there. I was scared and if I still had a heart beat it would be going extremely fast right now.
As I pulled my hand away I noticed that it felt a little sticky. I pulled it up to my face to examine it to see that there was blood on it. I gasped and looked down at my hoody. My stomach lurched at the sight; I was covered in blood. Without a second thought my hand flew to my neck landing on the severed flesh that was still leaking my blood. I flinched from the pain of my hand hitting the wound a little harder than I had intended.
“Damn it!” I cursed and bit down on my lip waiting for the pain to pass.
No heartbeat meant that I was dead, but if I was dead then why was I here (wherever here was) and why could I still feel? Is this hell?
A streetlamp on my right flickered making me jump. The sound of my Converses scraping across the ground seemed to reverberate off of the buildings highlighting that I was alone, but in the back of my mind I knew that that wasn’t true. I could sense someone else nearby, lurking in the shadows, and I didn’t like it.
I scanned the area again but I couldn’t detect anyone...and then my scar began to tingle. I flinched and awkwardly tried to stroke it without troubling the dripping vampire bite, in the hope that I could soothe it. I knew that it was a stupid idea seeing as I had no control over the scar but I already had enough discomfort to deal with without my scar bothering me too, so I figured that it was worth a shot.
At least I now knew that I wasn’t alone -Darius was here; whether that was a good thing or not I would soon find out.
I felt that complex concoction of irrational devotion and the more-than-rational fear stir in my gut. Darius had killed me –at least I think he did –so now more than ever I was afraid of him, but as usual the need to have him here with me overpowered everything else.
I growled in frustration. Why did I feel like this? Was it because he was insanely hot, that he had a certain ‘bad boy’ charm about him, did I secretly know more about his personality that I was aware of...or was it something to do with him being a psychotic vampire. I was going to go with the latter; it made more sense to me than the rest.
My eyes surveyed the area hoping to spot him. I could feel the excitement of seeing his beautiful face and hearing his melodious voice say my name in the way that only he could building rapidly, and before I could stop myself I called out to him sheepishly like a giddy school girl.
“Darius?”
There was no reply and he didn’t appear either, but I knew that he heard me because my scar burned hotter. I smiled and looked about some more,
“Darius,” I called again, this time with more conviction.
A swift whooshing sound cut through the air somewhere above me, followed by my scar sending a sharp pain down my back. I cried out in anguish, the mixture of the pains being too much to bear, and curled over hugging myself.
“DAAAARRIIIUUUSSSS!” I howled into my chest.
There was another whooshing sound overhead but it was moving away from me towards the far end of the street. Carefully I straightened up and began to follow the sound when suddenly I heard uneven footsteps coming from the opposite end. I froze.
Someone else was here.
I whipped around and waited with baited breath, too afraid to even blink just in case I missed something. The staggered footsteps were getting louder as the person came closer. I don’t know how I knew, but whoever it was, it wasn’t Darius.
A flash of fear shot through me; had he brought company? Were they here to finish me off? I shivered at the thought, then as quietly as I could, I edged into the ominous warehouse concealing myself behind one of the doors.
The inside of the building smelt like damp, dust and decay, and I was positive that I had just seen a rat scamper between a stack of boxes. I shuddered hoping that it was just my imagination. Apparently I could deal with vampires, but rats were a no-no.
I heard another whoosh and just like black magic, there he was posted in the doorway of the abandoned warehouse. Once again I found myself missing my heart beat because it would’ve done a little jubilant jump.
“You’re here,” I breathed happily, forgetting that I had put myself behind the door because I was meant to be hiding and made my way over to him.
We’re all vampires as beautiful as him, or was he one of the lucky ones whose beauty from their human life was amplified? If I’d met another one would they have this effect on me, or was it just him?
Whilst admiring him I noticed that his clothes had changed. He was still dressed head to toe in black but the outfit was completely different.
“Did you go home?” I asked him. He didn’t respond. Instead he pushed off from the doorway and walked in my direction.
His midnight eyes were looking directly at me but it was as if they were focused on something behind me. Could vampires see through people, because that is what it felt like.
“Darius?” I tried again, but still he didn’t reply, he just kept walking and instead of stopping he just walked right through me. What the hell? How did he do that?
I tried to grab at him to see if I could touch him, but my hands just passed through him. I made a face. Was it completely stupid that it bothered me that I couldn’t touch him more than the fact that I may be a ghost or something because of him? Yeah, I think so too, but that didn’t stop me from being upset about it. I cursed and kicked a box nearby...well I tried to anyway but my foot just went through it.
Darius looked up briefly, his onyx eyes sparkling with morbid amusement and then he leapt high up into the air and landed gently on one of the steel beams that supported the roof. Moving too fast for my eyes to detect, he crouched down like a jungle cat and watched the doorway in silence as still as a statue, resembling a stone gargoyle perched on the side of Notre Dame.
Moments later the footsteps approached the doorway and a woman no taller than 5 feet rounded the corner with a small bundle in her arms. I pressed myself against a nearby wall trying to conceal myself in the shadows, though I wasn’t sure that with all this ‘being able to pass through things’ and ‘not being seen or heard’ business, that concealing myself was really necessary.
Darius became animated again and grinned devilishly as he lifted his nose into the air and inhaled deeply. A low growl of pleasure escaped his lips and his black eyes flickered with those haunting amber sparks.
I looked at the woman again, now worried about her well-being. If she had any sense she’d walk back out of that door and run like the wind.
The woman was dressed in a long parker jacket that swallowed her petite frame with grubby matted faux fur lining the rim of the hood, and a pair of trainers with a brand name that I didn’t recognise. Her hair, which she had attempted to hide with a bandana, was dry and brittle, styled (and I use the term loosely) into large plaits that stuck out at odd angles. It was plain to see that she was an attractive woman, but the low standard of her appearance dragged her beauty down drastically. Her lips were blackened and cracked, and the whites of her eyes were dull as was her cocoa coloured skin that probably once a lovely rich brown now resembled clay mud. She practically screamed ‘drug addict’ (I’d been around enough of them in my wilder days to identify them in under 30 seconds).
Her eyes flitted erratically around the large space, unable to focus on one area for too long as she continued to stagger uneasily with the small bundle. I looked up to see what Darius was making of the woman but he was no longer crouching on the beam. I couldn’t see him anywhere. This was bad; this was very, VERY bad.
The woman shuffled over to one of the empty crates in the centre of the room, then without hesitation she set the bundle down inside it and headed back towards the exit as if she felt she had just removed the weight of the world off of her shoulders; that was when Darius reappeared.
He loomed menacingly in the doorway with his head tilted down, glaring at her from under his thick lashes with a sardonic smirk on his face. His long black trench coat whipped about him in the breeze like thick leather bat wings. When she saw him she jumped and screamed.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack you twit!” she snapped angrily. This woman was either stupid or high because I don’t know what possessed her to talk to him like that. You didn’t have to know that Darius was a vampire to know that he was dangerous; you could sense it in his aura. He had one of those presences that possessed a power of great multitudes that you couldn’t overlook even if you wanted to.
Darius to a slow step towards her,
“I’d tell you to watch your mouth, but it’s not like it would make a difference; I’m going to kill you anyway,” he snarled.
The sassiness of her attitude dissipated quickly as she realised that she was in trouble.
“Kill me? Why are you going to k-k-kill me?” she stammered trying to plead with him with her eyes. Darius chuckled darkly and cast a glance towards the crate,
“What’s her name?” he asked grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back in towards it. The woman stumbled after him pathetically; her eyes were wide and full of fear. I furrowed my brow. Her? What had this crack head put in the crate?
I came out of my hiding spot and followed them and ran up to the crate glad that my invisibility was still intact. I got up on my tip toes and poked my head over the side of the crate to see a tiny baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket fast asleep. I looked at the woman in disbelief; what kind of person would just dump their baby like that?
“Why do you care?” she snapped regaining some of her attitude obviously feeling no guilt about what she had done. Darius’s brilliant eyes flashed and the fear returned to her face. He leant in close bringing his face only inches from hers curling his lips back over his teeth and I saw his fangs descend. He snarled and stared deeply into her eyes,
“I said, what...is her...name?”
The woman’s face went blank,
“Lyric. Her name is Lyric,” she replied robotically.
My eyes shot back to the baby in the crate. If that was me in the crate then that despicable excuse for a human being was my mother.
Growing up in foster care from such a young age I never had any recollection of my Mum so like many other orphan’s in that situation I created her in my head and romanticised why she had given me up. In my mind my mother looked like an older version of myself. She was beautiful and warm and she loved me more than words could describe. I had convinced myself that the only reason I was in foster care was because she had died in a horrific car accident and as I had no other family ‘they’ were forced to put me into care. Right now more than ever I wished that that story were true because I was ashamed of the trembling addict that stood before me.
Darius looked down at baby me with no expression on his face. He spoke quietly to the woman,
“How you can abandon your own child like this I can’t understand. You human’s make me sick, especially your kind. What’s your poison?” he asked tilting his head to the side and studying me,
“Heroine.” His head snapped back in her direction and he grinned,
“I haven’t had that in a while.”
I watched as he launched his fangs into her jugular and tore it out without remorse. She didn’t even get a chance to scream. I clamped my eyes shut not wanting to see anymore, but silently I thanked Darius. I was still a little fuzzy on the details, but all I knew was that if it hadn’t been for him I would have died in that crate.
*
The darkness seemed endless. Seconds, minutes, hours, days blended into each other to the point that I had been under so long that time had lost all meaning. I had been bitten by a vampire and left to dwell in this lightless state of limbo, unsure if I was alive or dead. No matter how hard I willed myself to escape from this nothingness, I couldn’t. Instead, I stopped fighting with myself and I prayed. I prayed that I was still alive, because if this was death then I would surely go mad, left alone with my thoughts for the rest of eternity.
All of a sudden the decadent taste of black cherries erupted inside my mouth and by and by I felt the darkness slipping away to give way to full consciousness. I was alive!
My throat was bone dry, my body felt stiff from lack of use and my head felt light. As I came to, I felt the weight of another body half rested on top of my own with a cold hand cupping my face and cool full lips pressed cautiously against my own; Darius.
A flash of provocative heat surged through me at this realisation and though I was weak I found the strength to lift my head a little higher to crush our mouths closer together.
His hands came down in a flash and pinned my shoulders to the bed with a cautionary snarl. He pulled away slightly and I could feel his eyes on me. I opened mine for the first time in God knows how long and though the light in the room was dim, after growing accustomed to the darkness, it stung me a little.
My eyes struggled to focus; all I could see was Darius’s blurred features encased in a soft glow from the surrounding light. His fiery eyes made him look like an angel from hell (if there was such a thing).
“I urge you not to test my will power right now,” he hissed demonically. Without another word he pressed his mouth back to mine, showing even more restraint than before and the taste of cherries returned. I had assumed that I had woken to him kissing me -he was in fact feeding me his blood.
I relaxed under his iron grip and allowed him to feed me without any inappropriate interruptions. It was hard not to surrender to the primal instincts that he conjured within me, but I knew better than to disobey him when he was like this. If he was warning me not to test his will power while I was in such a vulnerable state and he was in ‘vamp’ mode then I thought it best to do as I was told.
As his blood filled my veins I grew stronger and more aware until finally I felt brand new.
Darius pulled away and licked the small puncture in his lip,
“How do you feel?”
He asked as his flame filled eyes searching my face. I watched in awe as the wound healed right before my eyes then cleared my throat,
“Am I dreaming?” I asked,
“No my Lyric,”
I reached out and touched his face briefly to see if I could actually touch him. His skin was smooth and cool like marble.
“You’re really here?” I said dreamily retracting my hand,
“Yes,”
“And I’m not dead?”
“No, you’re very much alive,” he smiled, pleased that I was okay.
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Darius raised his eyebrow and pressed his cool palm to my cheek,
“You’re blushing. Why?” he asked curiously. What did he expect me to say, ‘Oh nothing you’re just the most beautiful man I’ve seen in my life’? I don’t think so. I tried to mask my adoration and hold his gaze but the intensity of his stare only made my giddy behaviour worse. I smiled and looked away,
“It’s nothing, I’m being silly. Where are we?”
In my attempt to take the attention off of myself I finally took note of my surroundings. We were lying on a huge four-poster bed intricately carved out of dark mahogany, draped in rich gold velvet curtains. The room was a generous size with cream wallpaper, plush gold carpet to match the drapes, a high Victorian ceiling and a magnificent fire place at the far end with photographs of me from over the years decorating the mantelpiece.
I looked at Darius, my face coloured with questions. He hadn’t moved his eyes from my face but his expression was softer and his eyes had returned to their glittering onyx shade. He caressed my face,
“We’re home, my Lyric,” he replied in his soothing tone. He kissed my forehead and rose gracefully to stand by one of the large windows. The moonlight shone through and kissed his face. His honey brown skin took on a golden ethereal glow that looked otherworldly but only increased his loveliness. I sat and watched him wordlessly.
Darius sighed and dropped his head, a small arrogant smirk spread across his mouth,
“I wish you wouldn’t regard my outward appearance with such awe. Your thoughts do make it a challenge to keep my distance,” he chuckled sinisterly. He shot across the room in under a second, holding his face less than a centimetre from my own. He leant in closer as if to kiss me but diverted at the last moment and grazed his lips along my jaw bone to the hollow behind my ear. I shivered. He inhaled and groaned,
“You think like prey.” He kissed my burning flesh then retracted from me with a stern look on his face and placed both hands on my shoulders,
“Never forget my Lyric, as long as you remain in this form I am a danger to you. Until I change you it’s best that you’re cautious around me.”
He got to his feet and stalked over to the mantelpiece. His long fingers danced across the mahogany surface until they reached a photo of me, in which I appeared to be less than a year old, asleep in a white cot with high bars. He picked it up and smiled to himself momentarily, and then he frowned,
“I’m embarrassed to say that I almost killed you last night. A vampire of my age should have better control of himself,” he said looking away, genuine shame colouring his exquisite features as if being unable to keep from killing me was the greatest shame a vampire could bring unto himself. I would have thought it would have been the other way around. He clenched his jaw in annoyance, his thick eyebrows knotting together casting menacing shadows over his eyes.
“You are ignorant to the ways of the vampire. You have much to learn,” he shot back across the room and ended up on top of me. I felt my heart tremor erratically as he traced his finger along my face, down my neck and into the hollow of my throat. He replaced his touch with his lips and kissed my throat gently. He spoke against my skin,
“And I intend to teach you EVERYTHING.”
He snapped my neck.
*
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