What do I know?
I don’t live anyplace special, or anyplace you’ve ever heard of or been. It’s a quiet undisturbed town in the mid-eastern part of Michigan. I’m from the town of Healing. Lately, it’s the one thing we’ve lacked. Welcome to Healing, Michigan, the United States of America.
It was any normal February in Healing. By normal, I mean completely ABNORMAL weather. Cold one minute; hot the next. I had just turned 18. 2003. The year I graduate. I knew it would be the biggest moment in my life. What did I know?
In downtown Healing, there’s a small café. It’s sort of the “local hangout”. There’s a park just outside of downtown and a small shopping center just outside the district, both places of popular interest. It was around 7 pm on the night I decided to go. I believe it was the second Saturday of February, but who can remember anymore? It was pretty bare, but considering the weather was fair, I figured everyone was at the park or out playing pranks or the such. Kelly Hart was there, reading in the corner on a couch. Michelle Anderson was working the counter, Jim Schwartz doing the “heavy work”, and the manager, Kim Lithe (who had graduated 2 yrs previous), seemed to be asleep in the break room. It seemed the average spring evening, considering it was still winter.
I grabbed a muffin and a hot chocolate and sat down at a table in front of the window. The sun had set, but there was still a glow of red on the horizon. Being that the café is on the end of the main street in our downtown area, the window wraps around both sides of the street, and there are few houses on this edge of town. You can see straight through to the west. I sat wondering if all the science in the world could make this sight any less miraculous. However, my thoughts were disturbed when the door to the café opened, and the bell on top started to jingle.
Two people walked in and ordered café mochas. I’d never seen either of them before, so they were probably visiting. The girl was about 5’6” to the guy’s 6’2”. Her hair was a short, luscious blond, with the ends curled slightly at the top of her shoulders. Her brown eyes were deep, and somehow shone through her fair skin. His hair was a dark brown, and cut at the ears to a slight bowl style. It rose up in the back, and came back down around the sides, making it look like someone decided to put the bowl over his eyes, instead of his hair. His skin was a caramel color, maybe of slight middle-eastern decent. His brown eyes pierced me as they passed to sit at a table facing the north window.
Nothing struck me as odd about these two. We often had visitors from out of town, coming to visit their grandmother, or great aunt, or perhaps a distant cousin. No one was ever directly related to those in Healing. Most often, those who left Healing never came back, those who moved to Healing never left, and those who visited, never spoke of their experience outside of Healing. Like I said, it was a quiet town. They were ordinary people, but with an unordinary air about them. They were wearing jeans, tennis shoes; she, a light blue tank top under a dark blue button shirt; he, a green rock t-shirt of a group of which I’ve never heard (probably Underground). But there was something about her that I just couldn’t figure out. Was it love?
Around 8, I decided to head back home, probably watch television, and head to bed for the night in order to wake up for church in the morning. I hadn’t driven, no use since I lived just a quarter of a mile south on the same road the café cornered.
When I got home, I walked into the living room and sat on the couch. It was quiet, but it was Saturday night. I rarely went out on Saturdays anymore. I didn’t have a girlfriend, and my friends just liked to prank, which was not my scene. I figured my parents went out to dinner and my brother went pranking with HIS friends. After sitting for a moment, soaking up the peaceful sound of nothing, I turned on the television to find out what movies or shows were on tonight.
As I flipped through the channels I heard a noise upstairs. It must have been the cat, so I shrugged it off. Then I remembered my sister took Charlie down south after she married this past fall. I turned the TV off and went upstairs to check it out. I went into my room first to make sure everything was in its place. Then I went into my brother’s adjoining room. It was completely trashed. Nothing unusual there. I turned to walk into the hall when I noticed his cell phone sitting on top of the pile of papers on his desk.
I walked over to the desk, and under a few papers (hardly visible from far away, but hard not to notice up close) were my brother’s house and car keys. I looked out the window, noticing that my brother’s car was parked in front of mine. I hadn’t even thought of that when I came in. I went into my parents’ bedroom, and nothing seemed unusual there. I looked for any keys or phones that might have been left. Maybe my brother just went out with friends and forgot his keys. It wouldn’t be the first time. But his phone?
I picked up the phone in my room and dialed my mother’s cell phone. She confirmed my original thought that she and my father did indeed go out for dinner after Marcus left. However, he had left in his own car. I didn’t mention my finding his keys or phone to my mother. Maybe, he was playing his own little games. I drove down to the café, and asked if anyone had seen my twin. Everyone was still there, except for the pair that had walked in from who knows where. They said before I came in, the blond had been here with my brother around 6:30, left, and come back.
I drove around the area and found the duo walking down an old industry road. I parked my car on the side next to an old garage and decided to follow them.
There was an old warehouse down the road, and when they reached the side entrance, they entered. Yes, yes, I know… warehouse, bad things happen… That’s what EVERYONE thinks. Well, wrong. When I entered the warehouse, they were gone. Then I heard breathing. I walked down a small flight of stairs and saw a light coming from a room a short distance from the stairs. I snuck around to the side of the door and peered in.
I’m pretty sure you THINK you know what I saw. You don’t. Let’s say I found my brother. My brother with Laura Anderson, Michelle’s 16-year-old sister. Well, it’s legal. I left, walked back to my car, and went home.
After that experience, I needed a hot shower to take my mind off of those torturing images of my brother, and my ex-girlfriend’s sister. I walked upstairs, into my room, and took off my socks and shoes. Then, I took of my shirt and jeans, and walked into the bathroom with my boxers on. (My brother and I shared a bathroom that happened to be accessible from both our room, being our rooms, and bathroom, are in the corner of the upstairs.)
As I started the shower, I slipped out of my boxers and into the shower. The steam felt warm against my body, as did the hot water pouring down my face and body. But something else felt warm. Someone’s body. I felt small, light fingers touch my shoulders, my neck. I turned around to see the blond beauty standing there. Her loveliness was only accentuated by the beads of water made by the steam of the shower. Her bare breasts stared at me. Her kiss tasted sweet, yet warm. Was that blood? She was now where I once stood, and I was against the back wall of the shower.
She saw that I was erect and took advantage of it. She lifted herself up to me slightly, positioning me to enter her. She was warm. So warm. I held her against the sidewall. I didn’t know why… I didn’t know how I’d gotten there. It was happening so fast. Her arms wrapped around my neck… Her lips caressed me ears. Her tongue was so soft, yet so strong.
She was torturing me… I was torturing myself. I could feel myself building up inside. Should I stop? Should I slow down? But she kept going; she kept rocking against the wall. As I erupted her lips wrapped around my neck. I couldn’t stop. I erupted over and over again inside of her, and it was so powerful, I was ready to fall to the ground. I could feel her body shake against mine with each passing moment. Then… it was over.
I lay on the shower stall floor: my head against the wall, and my knees up in the air. Streams of red water flow down the drain. I only remember thinking, “Am I dying?” I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say anything. I just lay there, until nothingness.
“Luke! Luke!” My brother burst into the bathroom, and my eyes opened. “What the hell happened to you?” He asked, opening the shower door, and lifting me up. I leaned into his shoulder, not knowing what to say. He took me into my room and lay me in my bed. “Man, you look tore up.” If only he knew. He covered me with my comforter. I felt my neck. There were two bumps, but it didn’t hurt any longer. Next thing I knew, I was out again.
When I woke up, it was just after 11 AM. Had I slept all this time? I can only imagine when I passed out the first time. Or did I pass out? Was it a dream? I was supposed to be at church. Why hadn’t anyone woken me up? I walked into my bathroom and looked into the mirror. Indeed, I look “tore up” as my brother so delicately put it. I took a cold shower this time, and put on some clothes. By this time, I had already missed church, so I put on a blue t-shirt and some jeans. I looked out the window, and the sun seemed to be behind clouds. There were slight bits of snow falling from the sky. That’s Michigan for you.
A week had passed, and there was no sign of the girl, or her male friend. Had she really done this to me? Valentine’s day had come and passed. The only person I could think of was the girl. (Basically, I’m saying, I didn’t have a date that night.) The next Saturday, I walked into the café around 6:30. The sun had already set unusually early this evening, and I couldn’t avoid the café forever. I walked in, and it was much more full than last week. The warmth of the mostly caffeine-filled beverages summoned people in from the cold of the evening.
I sat on the couch, next to Davis Stein, who was balled up in the corner reading a magazine. No one was on the couch other than him and I, mainly because no one cared too much for Davis. Society stereotyped him into his homosexual role, but I never minded him. He was a nice kid. He nodded at me as I sat down, but we didn’t say anything. It was around 7 again when the pair walked in, except this time it was a trio. There was a young guy with them, probably 16 (the girl looking 17 herself, and the guy around 20). He had pitch black, spiked hair, and these entrancing green eyes. All three wore blue jeans and black t-shirts. He was about 5’5”.
When they walked in, I was not the only one to notice. Davis looked up, noticing the (now) trio order their cafe mochas and sit at the north window were the duo had once sat. Then, older male’s brown eyes shot in our direction. Davis went back to his magazine, but I couldn’t help but stare back. His eyes were locked into mine, like he was trying to say something. What? What do you want?
After he turned away, I realized I had stopped breathing, and I loudly exhaled. Davis looked at me, closed his magazine, and put his feet on the ground. I looked around, making sure it was me he was looking at.
“You’ve seen them before, haven’t you?” I nodded, acknowledging that it was, indeed, the “trio” he was speaking of. “I saw them, too. Last Saturday. It was around 8:30 when I came last week, and both those guys were sitting at that table. I haven’t seen the girl before.”
“What happened?” I asked cautiously.
“Well... I can tell you, right? You won’t be disgusted?” I nodded, knowing very well, it wouldn’t be a pretty story. “I saw them there, last week. Came in for a cup of coffee before I headed off to write down by the stream. I usually stay away from the park by going and writing by candlelight on this side of the stream, rather than the east side. When I got to the park, he was there. The one with the black hair. He took me. You know... he... well...” Davis began to turn red, so I nodded to acknowledge that I did know what he meant.
“But at then end there was... something... it was intense. I don’t know what it was. But I blacked out soon after. It’s like... he bit me or something. I woke up the next morning feeling completely wasted, but I noticed I had a couple bumps on my neck. I mean, it’s probably nothing, but they’re strangers. I didn’t think I’d see them back, yet somehow I knew they would be.”
I sat there quietly, understanding exactly how he felt. I told him what happened to me, at least, in as many details as I could muster. I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, just as I would’ve been if too many details were revealed about his experience. We sat there... waiting. Watching. Wondering if anything would happen.
When the darker, older male got up and left, I decided to follow him. I’m sure the others noticed, but they didn’t seem to care. I told Davis he could come, but he stayed behind. This time he walked west, rather than east toward the old warehouse. I followed him down some old dirt roads until we reached the end of the road. There, at the end of that road, was old Healing Hospital.
Old Healing Hospital, as everyone knew, was the hospital used during 1861-1888. It had three rooms, no indoor toilet or plumbing, and one waiting room. There weren’t very many people here in that day. There was only one schoolhouse back then and that was on the other side of town. Why had we come here?
When he went inside, I followed. There were mattresses in the waiting room, and the rooms had mattresses and sheets and pillows as well. Was this were the strangers were staying? As far as I could see there was no one in the main room, or the front two rooms. I walked into the back room, and stepped in, to get a good look. The door closed behind me.
I turned around, expecting to see the older male. But no one was there. I turned back around to the empty room. Wait... who is that in the corner? When I leaned in to get a closer look, he stepped forward. It was the boy from the cafe. The one Davis had seen before. But he hadn’t followed... or had he?
“Who are you?” I asked. He said nothing. He just walked up to me... his right shoulder touched my right shoulder, as his long black fingernails caressed my face. “Who are you?” I asked, standing my ground.
“Adrian,” he whispered. “My name is Adrian. Of course,” he turned away, “that doesn’t rightly answer your question. Adrian was the name my parents gave me. I have no name here.” As I walked up behind him he turned around. His lips met mine. I’d never kissed a guy, but his kiss... his kiss was like hers. Warm... sweet. This time I knew it was blood that met my tongue with his.
His nails caressed my face, and somehow he brought me down to the mattress that lay on the ground. It was soft. He was soft. His touch, his skin was soft, but HE... he was hard, and so was I. He lifted my shirt off. I did the same to him. He opened my pants... and his mouth enveloped my erection. He took me in, all of me in. It was so intense. It wasn’t long before I erupted into his mouth.
He took of my pants after taking off the rest of his clothes. We were both there, completely naked. Then he straddled me, and allowed me to enter into him. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just doing it. I was so tired. Was I tired? Or was I weak? But, no matter what I was, he was there, on top of me... I was inside of him. Our bodies bumping against each other. His erection bouncing on top of my stomach. When finally, I exploded ten times more than ever inside his body.
I began to tremble horribly. He kept telling me that it would be okay. Everything would be alright from now on. There was nothing left to worry about. After tonight, death would never haunt me.
I knew the moment I woke up that it was night. It was the next night. I was in my clothes again, and the sweet taste of blood was still in my mouth. His blood. I knew what had happened, even if I hadn’t been awake. I was him. I was one of them now.
They weren’t there when I woke up. I left town, knowing that whatever had happened, I had to escape. That night though, before I left... I went to the cafe... to see Davis. He was sitting there, at a back table tonight, waiting.
“I want to come with you,” he said, after telling him all that I could remember. “I want to come, I don’t care how you get me there. He’s touched me like no one else has ever touched me, Luke. I need him.” I only shook my head, knowing fully well that it would drive him mad if he knew I had left without him. I took his hand, and we walked outside. The night before, I had become something more than a man. If he wanted the man he loved, he had to become what I had become.
That night, Davis and I made love, and before sunrise, we became one entity. Together we traveled; killing, feeding, searching. It was only a few months before I sat down to tell this story that we knew the truth ourselves. In February of 2004, this very year, we found the trio in Merriton, New York. It was from then on we became the coven we are today. And next year, our coven will grow once again. As it will year and year again, providing we’re never caught.
Adrian always says that we’ll never be caught.
But, what do I know?