I Shouldn't Have Ate That: A Vampiric Tale (open to one woman)

(Role now taken)


“How could you?!” Vincent found himself saying, in a tone of voice he thought was uncomfortably close to yelling “of all the… you… you FUCKED Isaac!” he continued, his tone of voice doing everything but improve “God Dam it woman!” Vincent disliked conflict like this, it made his blood hot and his body burn, he was always calm and collected, any time it looked like he was going to end up like this he would just close up and distance himself from everyone.

“How could I? How could I not” and here was the cause of his current and rather vitriolic mood, she was his significant other… Well, ex significant other now. She had turned up at his place to tell him he was dumped and to get her things, only before a word could leave her lips, he had let it be known that he knew exactly what she had done the night before.

“I… just take your crap and get out!” he ordered as he turned away from her and gestured to the door she had just walked in through, desperately trying to get himself under control before he did something monumentally stupid.

“No!” she replied, apparently wanting more of a fight before she left “this is exactly your problem Vince” she grabbed his shoulder and spun him to face her, practically pinning him against the back of a lounge as she did “every time things get heated you chicken out” her being so close, her not letting him get away from all of this shit, her still insisting this was his fault “maybe if you had let things get a little more ‘heated’ between us this wouldn’t be happening.”

By this point his face was twisted in to a mask of anger that was wholly foreign to him, his lips parted just enough to see the clenched teeth behind them, how she didn’t notice the razor sharp fangs now among them he didn’t know. There was no way out for him now, his mind was gone, she had dug her grave and she was about to sleep in it. Before she could say any more, he pounced on her with a snarl, quickly pinning her to the floor beneath him, then sinking his fangs in to her neck.

All he could see was clouded in a red mist, and in a few seconds, all she would see is an endless darkness.

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“And that’s why I need double what I'm normally getting” Vincent said in to the phone, a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips as he rapped his fingers against the table he was sitting at, a rather irate look on his face. It had been three days since what had happened, and she was set to wake at any moment, something he was not looking forward to.

“No, really, don't call them, they already know and their cool with it” he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs, not that there was much point, the nicotine was never going to get in his system, but he found that the act had a nice placebo effect when he was getting panicky “can’t you just take my word for it?”

He looked worried as he put out his cigarette, got up from the table and walked to the fridge, still listening to the phone call “ok, I know it’s not how things are normally done, that’s why it’s called a favour” he opened the fridge and moved aside the beers on the bottom shelf, revealing two red containers “listen, I need some more, I can’t explain why, and I need it fast, can you make a delivery...” he continued, pinching the top of his nose as he did “ok, that'll work, just remember, this one’s off the books” he turned off the hands free and tossed it back on to the table as he closed the fridge.

“I am so screwed” he idly murmured to himself as he looked over at the door to his room, he could feel her in there now, some kind of link between sire and spawn, he should have paid attention in class “only a matter of time now” he rushed in to the bathroom and quickly went to the mirror, staring at his somewhat ragged reflection. He was a tall guy, standing at 6’3, not too bulky, but he had good muscle definition. His short black hair was a mess, his chin had sprouted some stubble in the past three days and he was currently only wearing a pair of old pyjama pants, not the best he’s looked before, but well that’s what he gets for having been awake for three days straight worrying.

He sighed and started fixing himself up, shaving, running his hair under some water, sadly he didn't get time to find a clean outfit before he felt her awake, it was strange, he could fell her presence there in his room, he felt like he was in a horror movie and that room was the mist filled forest with the strange lights in the distance.

“Well, no point in putting this off” he straightened himself up and gulped down the rising panic then began walking towards his room, each step feeling like it was taking hours, every bad scenario his mind had cooked up in the past three days playing out in his head, making him want to run as far away as he can without looking back, but he willed himself onwards. He slowly opened the door and stepped inside, coming face to face with her, the woman he had turned in to a vampire three days before.

“Um… Good morning” in all of his worrying, it had never occurred to him to plan out what he was going to say, rather foolish in hind sight.

Fiona was pulled from a dreamless sleep effortlessly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd Fiona had never woken up with this much clarity. Morning's were usually the young woman's personal hell. A pot of tea and two cigarettes was the only way to get her any where near a civil state before noon. Full lips curled into a smile as she enjoyed the spicy, masculine scent of the sheets she was buried in.

The smile flattened into a frown when she realized the source of the smell. Christ, she thought to herself, smelling again. Since when does Vincent bathe in cologne? Another smell and it became evident it was more than cologne. Distinct odors, some she could place and some she couldn't, were perceptible to her. Almost as if she'd had a cold her whole life and she was just now getting over it, she could almost taste her sweat, Vincent's cologne, the fabric softener Vince used and the smell of rain, flowers, smog, and worms blowing in from the window.

It wasn't only smell either, she could hear her former boyfriend in the bathroom...and the couple below the penthouse apartment, the sparse traffic on the street below. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She'd figured out it wasn't yet morning before she glanced at the window, but it was still a surprise to have her suspicions confirmed. It may as well have been noon for she could see better than ever. Her pair of black rimmed glasses lay on the table beside her. However, when she put them on, her vision was blurred rather than enhanced.

Pursing her lips, she extricated herself from the sheets and looked down at her naturally pale body. An old band t-shirt of Vince's clung to her breasts and drooped over her arms and stomach. Running her fingers through her fiery red hair, she was pleased to find that it wasn't as greasy or tangled as she expected. The self-appraisal would have continued but she heard Vincent's voice outside the bathroom.

"Well, no point in putting this off," he murmured quietly to himself. The words drifted to her in the bedroom and she stiffed as he closed the distance to his bedroom. What had she done last night? What had they done last night? Whatever it was...she felt amazing. But she didn't remember? If they'd been drinking enough for her to forget, surely she'd feel a hellova lot more hung over.

"Um...good morning."

Green eyes flitted up to his, his expression perfectly readable although he hadn't turned on the light. He was nervous, very nervous. Good, he ought to be...probably.

She didn't move, she didn't blink and she was almost certain that she didn't breathe either. The silence stretched out between them, quickly becoming uncomfortable. It wasn't until she saw his lips move, heard the intake of breath that indicated he was about to try again that she spoke.

"It isn't exactly morning, Vince, in case you hadn't noticed. Do you mind explaining why it is that I'm in your bed, wearing your t-shirt and..."

She'd meant to finish with something about her freakishly heightened senses. Obviously, the man knew what was up, or he wouldn't be so on edge. She was distracted from that thought, however, by a sudden pang of hunger...or thirst... some primal need.

"...and why the fuck I'm so hungry?"

Silence, he wasn’t surprised by it, he knew it was a pretty likely response to the situation, he just didn’t account for what would happen because of it. Her taking so long to say anything gave him a chance to calm down and see her, barely coved by the old and ill fitting t-shirt, it made all the blood boiling lust he felt every time he saw her creep back to the surface as his eyes took in her majestic form. But as his gaze came to her chest he snapped back to reality, the lack of the usual rhythmic rise and fall reminding him of what he had done.

He went to speak, the silence now torturous as the guilt came back in force, but she cut in before he could, not that he cared, it ended that god awful silence and that was all the mattered. When she spoke though… it wasn’t angry, hell, it was positively the most unimportant detail she could have possibly chosen to point out, it wasn’t until she asked about the hunger that he began to understand.

“Well, you haven’t eaten in a while, so there is that” a while, or to be more specific, it had been three days since he had turned her, he didn’t think it would be too wise to drop that on her just yet though. “You, ah” he paused for a second and tried to plan ahead, absent mindedly gnawing on his lower lip as he did, a tell of guilt he didn’t know he had, but try as he might he couldn’t think of any plan that would help him “what is the last thing you remember?”

He stepped over and sat beside her on the bed as he asked, his hand instinctively going for hers once he was seated, but once he noticed he stopped himself, glancing down at his hand before awkwardly pulling it back to his side “something happened, between us, it… just tell me what the last thing you remember is.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. What did she remember? The fight. Of course, she remembered the fight, if you could even call it that. Vincent was his usual self, cool, no cold. Everything with him was luke-warm. He didn't give a shit about anything. She was through with his passive-agressive bullshit.

"I remember fucking Isaac," she said sweetly, letting his t-shirt slide off her shoulder further. "Would you like details?"

Shapely legs twisted to find the floor and she stood so her back was to him, folding up her glasses and turning to look for the rest of her things. Her clothing was no where to be found so she shouldered her way past him to the living area irritably.

Last night came back in a rush and she was just as furious as she'd been then. Unlike Vincent, she couldn't hold in her temper. Her moods were volatile and passionate and he was, well...not. She spotted her purse by the door and strode over to it, slinging it over her shoulder and cramming her feet into her flats.

"Good bye, Vincent. I'm sure that Isaac will be wondering where I am."

Vincent was torn between the flash of anger that burned to the surface when she mentioned Isaacs name, and the lust he felt for her, made all the worse by the ill fitting shirt slipping away and revealing more of her bare skin, by god he wanted to feel her again, to press against her warm flesh and loose himself in bliss… But he knew he couldn’t, thanks to him she would never have that delightful warmth to her again.

“No” he said as she pushed past him “I’ll pass on the details if you don’t mind” as if she though he actually wanted to know for some inane reason. He followed behind her in to the living room, she wasn’t walking away from this, even when he saw the same signs on her that he had come to know as the tell that she was about to get very angry, he couldn’t let her walk away

"Good bye, Vincent. I'm sure that Isaac will be wondering where I am."

“Just wait” he said, quickly closing the gap that had formed when she want for the door “we have to talk, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed, that you can’t feel that something has changed” he sighed inwardly, this was not a conversation he wanted to have “you don’t remember the end of the fight, do you? Well something happened, something stupid and entirely my fault, but it happened, and now we have to deal with it together.”

"Together?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes and stepping out the door. "We're not doing anything together, Vincent."

A hand on her arm stopped her dramatic exit. Rather than fight, Fiona turned on heel and walked around him to the kitchen, throwing open the door to the refrigerator and moving the Chinese leftovers in search of something appealing.

"Don't touch me!" she growled when he turned to follow her. An actual growl, not a surly tone but an animalistic noise that she didn't seem to register as odd. Eyes flitting back to the fridge, her nose wrinkled when she came across what appeared to be bags of wine. She pulled one out of the fridge and the contents sloshed up the side and ran back down slowly.

"What the fuck is this?!" She opened the screw top of the bag and her nostrils flared, tongue sliding across her mouth. Her throat pulsed as she swallowed subconsciously, brows furrowing in confusion.

Her growl almost brought out a similar response from Vincent, but it died in his throat as he realised where that road would lead, that was not how he intended to show her what she was, by letting base animalistic urges take over, hell, that was what got him in to this problem in the first place.

“That” he said as he moved quickly again to stop her from drinking on instinct, transfusion blood was not a good way to start things “is what we need to talk about” he carefully laced a hand over the lid of the little bag of blood, but not going to take it away, the chance of it pissing her off was too high, either because her vampire side wanted the blood or because she just didn’t want him telling her what to do right now.

“I’ll try to explain it easily, so just bare with me, please” he took a breath and planned what to say, she was going to get fed up soon and leave, if that happened he would never get her back to help her “I’m… I’m a vampire” he exhaled, it felt good to get that off his chest, but he quickly noticed her going to say something and quickly cut her off “I know that sounds crazy, but just believe me, at least until I’m done talking.”

“Three nights ago, you came here to get your things and break up with me, but I already knew about you and Isaac, so it devolved it to a fight” he sighed at the memory, he wasn’t proud of himself “things got heated, I lost my temper and my other half took over, by the time I was myself again you were dead in my arms, the only way to save you, was… well, I had to turn you in to a vampire.”

Her eyebrow quirked up as he spoke, nostrils flaring in a familiar sign of anger. Her tongue snaked across her bottom lip quickly and she cut him off.

"You what?!" Taking a step forward, he poked his chest, squeezing the bag of blood hard enough that scarlet beads of liquid rolled down the sides. Her nostrils flared wider as the scent reached her nose.

"Killed me?!" Her laughter rang out hollow as she tossed her head, loose curls bouncing. "You honestly expect me to believe that you were in such a rage that you...killed me? And brought me back to life as a fucking vampire?"

Her grip on the bag loosed and she lifted it up to her face, distracted.

"Mmmm..."

She was resisting the idea, not that he could blame her for it, but he had to prove it to her somehow, if only he hadn’t thrown out the top she had been wearing that night, though a bloodstained shirt probably wouldn’t have been enough proof. But even as she as denying it, he could see her salivating over the blood in her hand, probably not even realising how much attention she was paying to it.

“No, I didn’t really expect you to take it on faith that I was telling the truth” he said calmly as he pulled the bag of blood away from her face again “the fact that you’re a vampire is a lot to absorb, but I can prove the other part” he swallowed hard “the part where I killed you” he paused for a moment, then brought his fingers up to his own neck, indicating where a pulse can usually be located “check for a pulse.”

Rather than reaching for her neck as instructed, Fiona wrapped two fingers around her wrist, eye lashes fanning across freckled cheeks as she closed her eyes. Her tongue snuck across her lip as she waited, white teeth gripping her bottom lip when she realized that she wasn't feeling the flow of blood she ought to be. Nostrils flared and her eyes snapped back open.

"Vincent!" There was a plea in her voice, behind the anger that had controlled her tone the rest of the evening. Her breathing picked up and she let the bag of blood drop to the floor.

It was going to be a bitch to clean, blood always was, but there was more where it came from, so he didn’t worry about it, his main concern was the woman he had just informed that she was in fact, dead. “Don’t panic” he said in the calmest voice he could muster as he slowly took her hands, carefully taking her fingers off her absent pulse, leaving enough leeway that she could pull her hands away any time she pleased “its…” going to be ok, not as bad as it sounds, both lies, how in the hell was he supposed to explain this to her without it all going to shit, and now to top it all off he could smell nothing but the blood slowly spilling across the kitchen tiles.

“It’s true, you are a vampire” he said, more stalling for time than anything else “and you have been sleeping for days, your body is starved” the scent was hard to ignore, he hadn’t been feeding properly since that night, every time he want to drink he couldn’t shake the taste of her. “I know this probably isn’t the best situation for it, but I think you’ll feel a lot better after you’ve had something to eat.”