fundamental issues [story part 30]

September 14, 2012 § 3 Comments


THAT BITCH had bitten me during the night. I should have known better.

Some people are afraid to sleep with their windows open, some people are afraid of spiders. Here I was sleeping next to an unconscious, apparently hungry vampire.

Of course she would go and do something like that. It was afterall, a night, and I guess old habits die hard. But this was not the time to find excuses. I had broken a promise I made to myself long ago, never give up to Viktoria. You see, some of you might think (as I thought at the time) that this is, in a sick and twisted way, a relationship builder. As in, it would get me closer to Viktoria, making her more like a friend, and less like an enemy.

But that’s false. Vampires are not dogs. You don’t throw them a bone and everything is warm and fuzzy in happy land, and you’re now friends. No. The moment you become food, you… become food. As in, it’s a step back, not a step forward. You do not evolve from “human” to “friend”. You devolve from human, straight to food. Friend is rarely mentioned.

It was the 24th of January 2006. By the time I had come to my senses, feeling the bite marks with my right index finger I already knew that I couldn’t spend another night with Viktoria and Viktoria alone, but that was another promise that I was making to myself which eventually I was bound to break.

Viktoria didn’t wake. She didn’t even flinch. She was feeling apparently more than welcome and comfortable in my bed and my room. And I couldn’t blame her. Like I was saying in the beginning of the blog, I was always more on the “old things” guy. I loved everything that was old and anything that took your mind back to the era of kings and queens. I was just always fascinated by it for some reason, although the whole house was very modern and more than enough tech equipped for the 21st century, my room was resembling a rather 17th century bedroom with nothing more than a shelf, a table, a big bed and a mirror. Something like this, although less spectacular.

I was however contemplating on the idea between waking her up gently or waking her up… the way she deserved.

She was sleeping and rather uncommon for a January day, the sun was shining powerfully and the light was gently brushing against her side of the bed. She was no Regina. She was much more muscular than Regina, and taller I might add. She smelled differently. Regina usually smelled like, well not exactly that smell, but the feeling that you got from smelling her, was similar to the feeling you get when smelling old books…

I can’t really describe it, but I’m sure you all know it. It’s that feeling that makes you exhale and inhale again, and again, and again. And even though it’s the same smell, you keep doing it because it’s addictive in a way. You can’t really say WHAT is that smell, but you like it.

Some people say that about gasoline also. I beg to differ. I like the smell of old books. That’s how Regina smelled. It was an unfamilliar yet strongly addictive smell, just like her eyes.

Viktoria on the other hand smelled like caramel or toffee or whipped cream with too much sugar in it. It was a… distinct smell, pleasant, yet not addictive and, on the contrary, it was the kind of smell that, if inhaled more than once or twice, has the potential to make you sick to your stomach. Kind of like eating too much honey or something way over your league too sweet.

I wasn’t complaining, I wondered how I smelled like and I also wondered how I smelled like for them. I know the answer of how I smelled like for Viktoria, seeing as she just fed on me in her sleep. It clearly wasn’t unattractive. McDonald’s french fries.

But enough with the smell.
I got up and as stealthy as I could I reached under my bed where I was keeping this big, sharp, heavy and shiny stainless steel stake which I secretly called “The End”.

You see, I was planning on murdering Regina at some point, because of all the books and movies and retarded texts that I have read, which all eventually convinced me that sooner or later, a vampire will turn on you and your family no matter how well you know each other and how involved you are. So I prepared. It was a foolish idea then, because of several things. First, there’s no way you’re going to be able to use that, not on Regina, secondly, the vampire that turns on you is a false, misleading and plain wrong concept, and third, I didn’t have the strength to use it, now that I think of it, that stake was way too thick.

[audio http://k006.kiwi6.com/hotlink/d6339y0y30/old_irish_blessing_keep-mp3.com_.mp3]

Regardless, I grabbed it, got on top of Viktoria and stuck it in the air above her head, stopping just short of her forehead, barely scratching it. She opened her eyes. Now, one would normally expect caution, no sudden movements and a nice, calm tone from the one being under the threat of a weapon, especially when you wake up to that threat. That wasn’t the case here. I was in almost no time, on the table in the other corner of the room, shelves and chairs broken all around me, books from the shelves above almost poking my eyes out and all that.

She practically didn’t even blink before doing that. I guess she was used to it. Or was it just normal predatory response? Never back down? No matter, she looked puzzled.

“Last night you offered me a home and now you’re offering me eternal peace? I didn’t knew you were so kind-hearted…” Viktoria said.

“You bit me and it hurts, it hurts my mind that you are now basically functioning on me-essence.” I replied.

“I woke up in the middle of the night, hungry, thirsty and with a fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig next to me. What did you expect.” She said.

Nobody ever called me a “fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig”. To be honest, I don’t think there is one single person in this whole galaxy who has been called that at some point in his life.

“I’m telling mom.” I replied sarcastically, got up and left the room. Mom, as to Regina, not as to my actual mom. My actual mom didn’t really need to know anything, although she expected to see me with my neck like that.

It’s funny how people just cringe at the idea that there could be a 100% normal family, from any point of view, just living about with a vampire in their house that occasionally brings friends, and they all leave bite marks behind. It’s just crazy even when I think about it. But we were on the same wavelength. I understood that this wasn’t deception, oppression, cause of fear or anything. It was just something that happened, has fairly low chances of happening anytime soon again, and they just understood there are things going on.

My father was just charmed by both Regina and Viktoria. Him, like me, didn’t fear that much, plus he always was, and is, somewhat of a history and geography maniac, he likes to read and discuss different events that changed the world, historical facts that might have gone different, reasons behind why the world is how it is and how could it had been different if certain events would have unfolded differently. So, whenever he got the chance to talk with them, he would. His eyes were gleaming whenever there was talk of “togetherness” (as in the whole family and ‘guests’) sharing an evening, day or whatever. He also understood they were guests, and not demons. I think being the most atheist family on the block helped also.

By the time I got out of the shower and returned to the room, Viktoria was already up and about, but because it was a Thursday, which meant the house was usually empty until 17:00 when parents got back home from work, she was rather bored.

You know those type of children who are just really, really full of energy, at around the age of 5, but you, in some instances, like a medical waiting room or a quiet restaurant, force them to stay, shut up and don’t say anything, and they just turn their heads to the floor, put a lip down and say nothing, occasionally bursting out for a second and then quickly composing themselves again. That’s how she was. Bored, yet full of energy, like a lion in a cage.

“Don’t you have business to attend to?” I asked.

“Well, I actually came here straight from the end of the world. Regina called for me and I went. She made a list of requests, two actually, that we need.” She replied.

“Requests?”.

“Yes, we need your necklace and a bit of blood, just a tiny bit.”

“What? What for? No.”

“It’s for the little project you and her are working on. Don’t ask me. Just give me what I need and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Viktoria, there’s no way you’re getting my necklace.”

“Ok.” She replied.

“Then the blood.” – Which I agreed to, and she bit me once again, from the wrist, let it trickle down a bit into a small plastic vial. It didn’t feel nor look good no matter how you take it. I’d rather have someone sucking on my neck, than being forced to watch this. It just isn’t natural, but I guess some might argue that being bitten isn’t natural either. Guess what, it is. At least it had become more natural to me than what was happening right there.

“I’m sorry for last night.” She said in a low voice, with her head down, white, silvery hair covering her face, her eyes on my wrist, holding it with both hands and letting it go as soon as she said it.

Then, with the vial in her pocket, she ripped the necklace from my neck and ran. Just like that, in under two seconds, she was gone, out the door, but in a hurry. I couldn’t be bothered to run after her, I knew better.

Can you hate her? I was just… amazed at how sneaky she was, at how much she tried to fulfil any of Regina’s requests, and at how little she cared about anyone and anything else.

I hated the position she was in, and the way she made me look and feel, sure, but hate her ways or her as a person… I’m not sure.

This wasn’t over in any case. All that has happened meant nothing really, what bothered me the most was that she took off before telling me when and if Regina is coming back, or where is she and how to get in touch with her. I just… I wanted to be “in” again.

I remember clearly to this day how I had a revelation around that time, which was in the lines of “I always want to be on both sides. That thing with the grass is greener on the other side must be true. Because I always want to be with Regina running around taking part in her daily routine, but once there, I always wanted to go back to a normal life.”

And this is another reason why I could never decide on being turned or not. Once you choose, that’s it. You can never go back to the normal life. What happens then if I just can’t get used to being 24/7 on one of the sides? Do I end up like all the others, ending my own life?

And if I chose not to be turned, and become old and sick and all that, won’t I have the biggest regret a human being has ever had, passing out on eternal youth?

In any case, back to where Viktoria took off.

I picked up the phone and called Blanche. I had hoped at least she wasn’t in on the plan, and was still around.

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long time no see. [story part 29]

April 4, 2012 § 13 Comments


I won’t bore you to death with parts which hold little to no relevance to the story, parts that depict me in my life, without the whole thing we’re talking here about.

I’m picking up from where I left in the last post and just tell you that after the day from the last post, I spent the next following ones by myself just trying to piece everything together and trying to figure out a way of contacting Regina. I kept expecting her to show up at my door or window or whatever anytime, but that didn’t happen.

Instead school soon started, it was now the start of fall and sooner than expected things settled down into the same boring rhythm I’ve had before Regina.

By the start of November I was again bored to death, but normal. I was even starting to forget things, and decided to write everything down as I remembered it, every time I remembered something. Soon I found myself surrounded by “weird” notes with half-thoughts on them and everything that depicted more of a crazy person, rather than just some random notes. I’ve put everything together slowly and managed to organize them.

Me, Viktor and Sophia were back to school and we were (believe me, we really were) trying to have a normal life, but the elephant in the room always kept screaming and punching us in the face whenever we were least likely to expect it. The elephant in the room was of course Blanche. We were used to being four, we were used to being four friends, going through high school together.

But here we were, on New Year’s eve, going into 2006, with no sign of Blanche, no sign of everything. Regina was a goner, Blanche and Viktoria were missing completely too, with no way of knowing where they are or who they are with.

Trying to speak with Blanche’s parents proved almost futile, all they knew was that Blanche told them not to search for her, that she will be back, that she’s OK, and that she did phone from time to time at home but all she said was “I’m OK.” and hanged up, without waiting for responses. That was weird, but understandable. They were worried, but happy she’s fine. If you ask me, they were never that close anyway.

By the time January hit, if it wasn’t for Blanche missing, I was ready to put everything that happened to imagination. It already seemed so long since everything happened that things started blurring out and mixing inside my head, imagination replacing gaps, and if it were not for everything that I’ve written down to put me on the right track when trying to remember, I wouldn’t have been able to write this story after-all.

But then, on January 23rd 2006, we pick-up the story again.

Long time no see...

In the last post I was saying how I was enjoying a cup of coffee alone at Concordia. Well, that usually happens from time to time, I sometimes go there sooner than the meeting time established with someone, and just stay by myself for half an hour looking out the window. It’s just different – sometimes I feel like being alone, but sometimes I feel like being alone surrounded by people. I’m sure you know the feeling. I think I would still go and have a coffee even if I missed taste-buds, it’s just something about the chatter around me and the clanking of glasses that makes me feel comfortable and relaxed. That, paired with a deep, cold snow outside the window, and you have a cozy evening.

That is, unless someone totally unexpected and scary as hell sits down in front of you.
Viktoria.

She sat down in front of me, no words.
Imagine me, staring at her with the widest of mouths and the biggest of eyes one could pop from amazement. I’m not much of a poker face myself, but she… well she’s something else. She was staring at me with a totally blank face, empty eyes, straight mouth, the whole nine-yard.

However, something WAS different about her. She was not glowing… like she used to. She didn’t have that allure or ven aqui thing that she usually had. That desire to stare at her, it was gone. She looked somewhat trashy, as opposed to what she used to look like. She looked pale, malnourished, she was skinnier and her hair was darker than usual. She looked human more than ever. She looked immortal no more, but then again, I figured this is just a new look of hers, but I soon realized, as soon as she started speaking, that she was changed entirely, not just physically.

She continued to remain silent and just stare at me. I wasn’t sure whether she was pissed at me or grateful or whatever, I just wanted her to say something. I kept staring at her hand, I couldn’t believe that I had something to stare at in the first place.

She noticed that and looked down at it too, then looked up at me again and said:

“Plastic surgery, amazing what they can do with it these days.” – Usually this would be followed by a mischievous smile, but this time it wasn’t the case.

“I gather you’re alright now?” I said.

“I’m well on my way on being alright I guess, but I’d rather not have went through this again.” She replied.

“So this is not the first time Regina does this to you?” I added.

“Regina? Yes, this is the first time, and the last.” She said, what I hoped was meant to say she’ll never piss of Regina again, not that she’ll not allow it to happen again, as in, remove Regina from being able to do that.

Now for all of you out there thinking this is too sci-fi, believe me, I felt the same, and I later found out, much later, in mind-altering and though-changing circumstances, that Viktoria actually had her ripped-off arm re-attached in a proper, but private, medical facility, and required absolutely no looking after from Blanche. I saw the scars on her upper-hand, at the shoulder, and although I had this image of a vampire attaching his (her) hand back on like a zombie, this was not the case. That night she was bleeding hard and I really thought she would die from blood loss. Yes, that can happen to vampires. Draining one is just as draining a human being, no difference here.

She had her arm re-attached just as any normal person would do, but healed much faster, and the scar that she had held on for well, almost a year, but it finally healed too.

I’m saying all this to make you aware that a human is much, much more closely to a natural biological being, rather than an undead-zombie which hardly ever dies, like the movies would make you think. I had friends which lost a finger, and although a finger is not an arm, they went through the same thing as Viktoria did.

“Where is Blanche?” I asked.

“She came with me but decided to go home instead, I think she’ll stay. I just came to say hello.” – Yeah, like anyone would believe that.

“Regina?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, everything is fine with Regina, and me, thank you for asking. We don’t hold grudges, it’s hard holding a grudge for eternity.” She replied.

“But where is she? I’ve been alone for months now!” I asked again.

“I’ve been alone for centuries. What’s your point?” She replied.

“My point is I need to know where she is.” I quickly added.

“Well if you must know, she sent me.” And with that, things were once again starting to feel normal… in the other way.

“You’re still evading the question.” – She was good at doing that, although I think it was something she did unconsciously, out of habit, rather than evading the question for some higher purpose.

“Oh, I don’t know where she is, but I’m pretty sure you’ll see her soon enough.” – She replied, and I smiled. I wanted to hear that more than anything.

As for Viktoria’s appearance, I didn’t say a word. Maybe she was just having a bad hair day? Maybe she was down with her moral? I didn’t know, or didn’t want to know anyway. I was more interested in Blanche rather than her.

But Viktoria did look bad. Really bad. If she would have been human, I would have called an ambulance really. She was… well, in a really bad shape.

“Viktoria, what’s wrong?” I asked her when she started going more pale than she already was, and squeezing her eyes shut over and over again.

“I’m a bit tired.” She replied.

Well, if it was sleep that she needed, that I could relate to. I know the feeling from lack of sleep (serious lack of sleep) and it’s not nice. But I also knew that Viktoria would probably be the last person to ask for help or appear weak in front of everyone, anyone. Especially in front of a human, especially in front of a human who is not scared of her in the first place. I don’t want to brag, but I was accustomed to her and probably less scared of her than 99% of the people, vampire or not, who knew her. I was scared, but not at the time, not in the state in which she was. You could kill her with a toothpick as a stake really. Seriously.

“Go sleep then.” I said.

“Can I come with you?” She said.

“I don’t like unfamiliar places…” She added.

Wait, what? She wanted to come with me, as in, sleep at my place? Hell no.
Hell yes. I couldn’t say no. For some reason, you should always say no when a person auto-invites himself (or herself, yeah, even if it’s a girl, especially if it’s a girl) to your house, but I couldn’t do that.

“Do you need food?” I asked with a suspicious looking expression on my face.

Without any problems or without even flinching, she said (rather happily for hearing it): “Yes.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” I said.
I sent a message to Sophia: “Go see Blanche, she’s back. I’m going home for the day, tell Viktor too.” and went home with Viktoria.

We took a cab and by the time we arrived home Viktoria fell asleep like a baby. I couldn’t even imagine how tired she could be for falling asleep like that. I mean, that’s against every survival instinct in her bones. But she did, and I had to literally slap her (I’m not a gentleman, and I enjoyed it actually) to wake her up.

We went inside, threw her on my bed and went in the other room and after a quick chat with my parents, I’ve decided that the safest place for her (and everyone in the house) to be, would be right next to me.

Also, as a small detour of the story here, it appears that carrying a half-unconscious vampire into your house does count as an invitation inside, that, and putting her into your bed. So no, I didn’t have to say “Please, come in.” to an unconscious girl.

By the time I went back in the room, it was nearing 21 and I was not really used to sleep at that time, but neither was Viktoria used to sleeping at night, the circumstances required it nonetheless. Then I remembered she was hungry. I was not about to sleep next to a hungry vampire. I needed a solution, fast. I was not going to act as a donor, not again.

I called Sophia and asked her if she met with Blanche and she told me she’s there so I asked her to put Blanche on the phone. I told Blanche the whole thing and she told me she’s in the same situation, tired as hell, but will explain another time why. In the meantime, I told her that Viktoria was really hungry and I was not about to donate to her.

It’s rather funny how you receive a bottle of human blood at your window in the middle of the night. Sophia made the delivery. We lived, well, rather close, so she took a cab and got off at my house, left a bottle from Blanche, and went home. We acted as she was leaving me homework, and again, this thing was turning “normal” faster than it should.

I didn’t knew whether to warm it up in the microwave (True Blood – the show, was not on HBO yet, but I still thought of that either way) or just offer it as is. I opted for as is, I mean, cold pizza is better in the morning, right?

I slapped her again a few times and when I got no response, I just decided to open the bottle and put it on her lips. Well, that didn’t wake her up, but she did drink all of it, in her sleep. That was nice. Feeding a baby, that’s what it felt. And if you must ask, yes, I know the feeling.

That problem solved, and the clock nearing mid-night, I went to bed with Viktoria next to me.
Just like in the movies, we woke up the next morning with her all over me, hands, feet, and most importantly, head, on my chest, mouth on my neck.

For one second there, I was a bit shocked. I mean, except the fact that everything about this was WRONG and weird, I did feel attracted to her in some even more weird way, and I did feel horror too because, well, if she could drink the bottle in her sleep, then who knows what else she could do in her sleep – bite maybe?

I shoved her aside easily trying not to wake her up (out of fear, or shame, not concern for her sleep) and put a hand on my neck to see if everything was in order.

AND IT WASN’T!

* I’m sorry for the long absence, I wasn’t slacking, I was traveling with a purpose. You’ll see the fruits of that soon enough.

* Next post: surprise photo, as a thank you gift for reading the story so far. If all goes well, maybe a video after it will follow.

* For the skeptics out there: stay tuned, I’ve also complied a nice post for you too, something to make your inner workings tick a bit faster. Will follow soon, but first, I’ll post what I’ve said above, that, and with the story-in between.

back to my vampire roots. [story part 27]

March 18, 2012 § 2 Comments


We stayed in Sweden for more than a month and just… didn’t do anything special. Well, for you it might be special, but for me it kind of started to blur and each new day became more and more like the last.

I was amazed at first by Lars and his family but I soon got accustomed with it, and as for dinner like I mentioned earlier, well, let’s just say it wasn’t screaming.

We only stayed with them for about a week and then moved to a hotel and Regina kept being on and off for sometimes days in-between without seeing her. I figured I should just go home, but she was deterring me each time. Sure, Gotheborg was nice, but I missed home nonetheless.

Just under a month since we were in Sweden, around two in the morning, Regina burst into the hotel room all excited and cheerful. I wasn’t sleeping because, well, that’s another interesting story.

Everybody that is “normal” and is only forced to pull an all-night for studying or partying will strongly believe that the human nature is strongly against functioning night-time. Because they feel like shit.

But this is false. If you only do it once, yes, you feel like shit, but ask any person that works nights how is it, and each of them will tell you that “You get used to it.”

And you do get used to it. I was by now fully active and lively during the night and always sleepy and tired, my body telling me to go to sleep, during the day. I had my sleeping schedule fully inverted. So no, I wasn’t sleeping.

In any case, Regina burst into the room announcing.

“We’re leaving!” She was even happier than me that we were leaving by judging her expression.
“Awesome. Finally…” I replied.

“But where to?” I added.

“Well, you’re going home, I’m going to the end of the world.” And she giggled.
“I’m coming with you.” I immediately interjected.

“No, you’re not. It’s too far and if Sigismund is there, too dangerous.” Regina replied.

Well this was new, usually she kind of forced me to go with her or do different things, but now it was the other way around. She was sending me home. But, as any human, you want what you can’t have…

“Come on, it can’t be that far. Where is it?” I asked.

“No.” She said.

“No what?” I replied.

“No, don’t even think about it.” Yes, I was planning in following her ass. Although that would prove difficult, if not impossible.

“Come on, you drag me all this way, make me literally open tombs for you, and now you’re ditching me?”

“Things would be much easier and more accessible if you would just accept me already…” She was referring to the fact that I continuously denied her from turning me. It’s like she was possessed or something with this thing. Seriously, Viktoria made it abundantly clear that she, Regina, hasn’t turned anyone in hundreds of years, well, except Blanche which I forced her too, and now she was obsessed about turning me.

You only know, from the story, about the only time she tried doing it and I refused, but trust me, she tried each and every time we were together. I won’t turn this story into a “fantasy romance” novel and just provide sex scenes each second post, but trust me, I was her main food supply, and she rarely fed without it.

Every third of fourth night, we had to fight over the fact of why I don’t want to be turned.
I… I had a lot of arguments against it.

Here’s what I told a reader about it:
Even sick, even in pain, it’s never an easy decision to make. Try thinking more about the implications behind it, other than “yay no death”. Movies romanticize it and make it look like a blessing, but it’s not. And it’s not romantic. There’s nothing nice about it and you can never, ever  make peace with the idea of murdering humans to keep yourself alive.

Regina was an angel and yet she left a trail of bodies over the centuries. A genocide if you wish, and she was haunted by each and every face, every day. She had thousands of drawings, photos and notes, names and everything, with almost every human life she’d ever taken. You wouldn’t want to be in her head not even for a second. It’s not a blessing.

Most of them just shut down, go into nothingness, they just stop feeling. But that’s stopping almost everything. You can do that as a human also, but harder. You just become a sociopath, with no feelings. That’s no way to live eternity.

And no, you don’t get used to it. There are things that you get used to, but manslaughter isn’t one of them. You’re either a serial killer, or you’re not. It’s not something you learn over time.

Yes, you can feed without killing, but more than often you’re forced to, otherwise you would expose you and your entire kinship to that human. Some humans accepted it better than others, some thought nothing of it and were allowed to walk freely. They had no idea how close to death they even came.

My relationship with Regina was weird. We were together, but not really.
We would at times, stay in the same apartment, and I would sleep in one room while she was in the other room with another human being, feeding on him, which more than often involved sex, and then in the early hours of the morning coming next to me as if nothing happened. And I learned to accept that, but it’s never easy sleeping with your back to a person who just drained someone of every drop of blood just a few meters away from you, and who still smells like iron and copper, not even mentioning she just had sex with that very same one.

But who was I to judge? I was happy she came, every time, and sleep with me. And maybe if in her place, I would have done the same as she did. And maybe if like her, we would have done it together.

So from all those movies and books that one sees and reads, the picture is very much distorted. Nobody goes around sipping blood from a glass all day long just as easy as he would buy it from a store. Hospitals don’t supply blood as easy as you think, they are out of it themselves anyway. Nobody has a full fridge of nice bags full of blood at their disposal and just heats them up in the microwave. That’s retarded.

Most of them have to feed straight from a human because I suspect, there’s more than blood what they are taking. I don’t know what else, but if you see the difference between a vampire who just fed on a human and one who just fed on human blood from a bag, you’ll understand. It’s ridiculously different, as if the feeding itself from a human offered something else, something invisible. I don’t know what.

And no, there’s no easy going around it. The whole “compelling” thing is a non-sense. There is a certain degree of hypnotic behavior or… influence if you wish, but it only goes as much as suggesting certain things, making some idea weigh more in one’s head… and I would guess it’s relative to the vampire’s charisma and age, and way of putting things, and not his pupils going big and just “hypnotizing someone”. That’s crap and doesn’t work. It would be nice, sure, it would mean almost no more human deaths, but it doesn’t exist, and people run and scream when bitten. I know I did.

And the ones that scream don’t stop until you either kill them or make them shut up in some other way, nobody just gets used with blood being drawn out by a monster from him. No girl just suddenly starts “feeling horny” and just “gives in” and starts liking it.

No. It’s horrifying to see and hear it and even more horrifying to see someone walking in the room and coming out in a bag. And it’s as horrifying for you doing it. Because if you can’t get used to it, you’ll forever be haunted by it, like Regina. But it’s either kill or be killed, and it sounds “logic” – but it’s not. Who gives you the right to murder thousands of people just so you can live. What makes you so much more important than them?

And many, many other things, make it a curse as much as a blessing.
No family (well, Lars did it, but he was pretty much a rare exception), no normal life, moving all the time, always hidden, no people to rely on, no true LIFETIME friends. Nobody to comfort you when it’s hard, nobody to hug you when it’s cold outside and you fall asleep in front of your TV.

No, when all those things above happen, you are just waking up, preparing to go out in the dark and the cold, and take yet another life. And it’s horrible each time, and all of them, all of them fight up until their last second. Those who do fight, they never stop squirming and fighting to get out from the clutches of the devil, but they never do. They fight until the end, without realizing that fighting it is the worst thing you could do.

So if you ask me why I refused, then I can only assume you’ve never seen a vampire feeding.
And then if you ask me so then, how could you sleep and love such a thing, then I can only assume you’ve also never seen how kind and loving one can be. It’s a paradox, at least for some of them, including Regina.

Demon by night, when they feed and hunt, angel by day, when they are just like you and me.
If there is a heaven and hell – then I tell you, from the bottom of my heart, that the “bouncer” has a really hard time deciding where a vampire will go. I could never decide where to send one, ever, and believe, I’ve tried.

It was official. I loved Regina. I loved the way she made me feel, you know, like life was worth it. Life was good.

I loved the way she looked like when she slept. I love the little birthmark she had on a hip, I loved her eyes, I loved everything. I loved her name, whatever it was, and I loved how I heard this song in my head every time I thought about her.

I also loved how she licked her lips sometimes before she started to speak, and mostly, I loved the way her laugh sounded. I loved her smile.

And as for becoming a vampire, well, some value life, even if it ends, more than eternity. I’m not saying I do, not, I had other reasons and this was not one of them, but life…

This is our life. It’s terrible and short and incredible and thin and beautiful… and none of us come alive out of it. And that’s ok, because it’s worth dying for. You know… life is worth dying for, that is my incredibly short, stupid but true and from the bottom of my heart meaning of life line, the only one that will ever be enough. It’s stupid to search for complex meanings and purposes in life.

Live it, live it like there is no tomorrow and live it until you realize it’s worth dying for, because trust me, you won’t realize that until you’re about to do just that, die for it, because it was so beautiful and so tragic in the same time. Die with a smile on your face, and accept, that the tragedy of dying, is a part of life itself, is a part of you, and that is the thing that makes life so intense in the first place. Knowing it will end.

I feel I digressed way too much from the story but I’ll continue anyway.

As soon as Regina once again made a point about how I should accept to be turned, I gave up and just told her that fine, I’ll go home, but I made sure that she saw I was more than angry, I was upset, at her.

That night she didn’t even came to the hotel and I couldn’t care less. I was on a plane even before sunrise and headed for home.
You might think that was childish of me, which I won’t argue against, because I was a child. And that was the point. I didn’t want to argue or push even more in this subject.

That was one big reason for me refusing the turning – I wouldn’t want to be a kid forever, no.
In any case, I arrived home that very same day, I was back in that small town where everything has started, I was back at seeing my friends. I forgot about Regina rather quickly, being overwhelmed by everything that I missed, but I soon realized that even back home, things were very much different and not like they used to be. Blanche had made sure to change them.

One vampire in one town could make all the difference in the world. Especially if it’s a small 35,000 inhabitants town.

Where Am I?

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