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Vamps and the Moon
The yellowish light of the streetlight makes his face look gaunt and sunken instead of its usual bright and full. He stares at me, still not believing what I just told him. No one ever did…at first. That was why I always chose the night of the new moon to reveal my secret, the night my transformation would occur. Because, as the humans say, seeing is believing.
“That’s hilarious. You’re a hoot. Now stop,” he tells me. “You look like you’re serious.”
“That’s ridiculous! There’s no such thing as vampires! This isn’t Twilight.”
I give him a sharp chuckle. “Those sparkling p***y vamps? No. Real ones don’t sparkle in the sun—we roast, our skin bubbling and burning like marshmellows over an open flame.”
He looks revolted by my similie. Then my watch beeps.
The transformation begins.
“Don’t breathe on me,” I whisper, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes closed. If any human breathes on me during the transformation, the vampire instinct would take over and crave his blood. And I’d rather not kill my first (and probably only) boyfriend.
“Wha—” he starts to say.
I spring back to avoid his sickly sweet breath, my long red hair blowing around my face. With the pain of red-hot metal being pressed to my fingertips, my nails shoot out into my palm, forming razor-sharp claws harder than diamonds. My teeth sharpen themselves. My eyes feel as though they are being compressed as they mutate into eyes sharper than a hawk’s. It would enable me to see in pitch blackness—even in a cave miles under the earth’s surface I can see as clearly as if it’s high noon.
My muscles, as first humanoid and lean, become inhumanly strong. And of course, this doesn’t happen without a burning pain.
In my vampire form, I could jump over a 10 story building and run at 200 mph without getting winded. I could bend steel rods and diminish redwoods into a handful of splinters. I’ve never sone any of that, but I know I am able to.
Half the time, the pain from all of the changes causes me to go wild, the vampire instincts taking over my mind and body. I’ve gotten much better at controlling it, though. I havent killed a person in years. The fear I will again is always present, though.
I unclench my fists. The holes produced by my claws were already healed. Opening my eyes, I discover Adam, still standing there. I am amazed tha the hasn’t bolted yet.
There is silence for a few minutes, which you use to stare at me. “Well?” I demand. My vocal cords became animalistic during the transformation and the word sounds like a growl. I sound like a smoker.
The expression on his face is inscrutable. Blank. Finally, the familiar sparkle enters his green eyes. “Holy…wow!”
“Yes, four hundred years of being a vamo and transforming every new moon into a monster is really ‘wow.’”
Disgusting? Terrifying? Revolting?
I blink in surprise. “It is?”
“So, what can you do?” He eagerly walks toward me. I take a wary step back. No need to break the streak of 23 years without killing anyone.
“Like, can you run really fast ? Tear people from limb to limb? Bite someone’s head off?”
This is…a surprising and unexpected reaction, but fortunate, for I was so not looking forward to trying to convince people not to run in terror. But Adam, being his nerdy self, is amazed by mythological creatures…like myself.
I notice a movement out of the corner of my eye. A flash of brown fur…
My hunger erupts like Mt. Vesuvius, invading my mind and body. The instincts take over. “Wait…here...” I manage to growl before—
Then, like every other time my hunter instincts take over, I am shrouded in darkness. The next thing I know, patchy fur is strewn across the street in front of me and my hands are crimson with blood. The hunger is satisfied for now.
“Oh, shi—” I spin around, searching for Adam. He was bent over a garbage can, retching. I can smell the vomit from here—another perk of being a vamp. A sense of smell hundreds of times stronger than a wolf’s.
When he stop puking, he turns toward me, his face still green. “Was I really that disgusting?” I ask. If I made you Ralph, I must have looked like a blood thirsty monster.
“No, no, it was just… surprising. I didn’t expect you to run on all fours and tear the head of that rabbit.”
“I’ve torn the head off bigger things than a rabbit,” I tell him, causing him to turn even greener. “Just forget I said that,”
I get an idea. “Hey, would you like to meet another vampire?”
“There’s more of you?” he asks, perking up.
“Well, not exactly.” More explaining. Ugh. “No, not around here. It’s just the one, but he lives in Moose County. See, vampires are loners—most can’t stand to overlap territories with others. Me and Demetri are the exceptions—all the younger ones are. And there aren’t many in existence anyway—a thousand in North and South America. Not a lot in Europe; in medieval times, they got burned during the witch-hunts. I know of four in Europe: one in Germany, one in France, one in Greece, and one in Ireland. She’s my cousin. She’s the one who bit me.”
I realize that two teens, one looking deformed and the other, returning from a puke-fest, probably looked suspicious, especially at this hour. “Come on. I’ll tell you more on the way to Demetri’s.
“And this Demetri is…?”
“The other vamp.” I gingerly pull my car keys out of my pocket and we walk to my car, parked on the side of the street. I notice that he’s studying my face and figure. Everyone did when they saw me in my transformed state. Not to be haughty, but while I am supernaturally beautiful in my humanoid form, I was even more entrancing in my transformed state.