rani

We're all dragged into life kicking and screaming. Tiny, unknowing specks in a world much bigger than ourselves, a world that we may never fully understand. I guess in my case, I was dragged into death much the same way.

It was just supposed to be a one-time thing. A night out, a break from the parents and the expectation of religion. God probably wouldn't have been too happy with me, but I could make my peace with Him later. I was just working so hard to escape the rut, you know? Every day a struggle to make sure that when I left on my own, I could raise myself a bit higher than my parents. Escape the cycle of dead-end jobs, looks of disrespect and the cries of "paki" from every smartass son of a bitch who wants to feel good about himself. Just one night was all I wanted. I thought the world would wait just one goddamn night for me to come back home.

That's when I met him. Gypsy, kinda young, was terrified by everything. He didn't even look very at-home in his own caravan. I felt bad for him, so we talked for a while. That really excited him, and he begged me to stay the night. He just seemed so lonely and lost. I understand how he would feel that way, but I had no idea how deep it ran. It wasn't just that he was a gypsy. I agreed, and we hid away, in some dark place. I can't remember it very well, because all I could comprehend in that moment was him close to me, body as cold as a corpse as he kissed my neck. No, not kissing. Biting. But it felt like a kiss. Even better. Like... like sex. Or what I guess sex felt like. I remember the entire world going dark and not caring because it felt so fucking good. The last thing I could hear was him crying, muttering to himself in a panic before I slipped away.

I was shocked right back to life with his bleeding finger shoved down my throat. Looking back, I guess it could have been disgusting. I've been this way too long for anything having to do with drinking blood to be too gross, though. At the time it was the best thing I'd ever tasted, so I kept drinking, nursing that finger like I was some tiny baby... That's a weird way to think about it, but that's what it'd felt like. I was confused and everything was a blur and there was this awful, chewing hunger, a feeling that felt like it was going to rip my stomach open.

A person had wandered close, and when I looked at them it was as if I didn't see another human being. It was like a wounded rabbit hobbling in front of a wolf, and all I could think about was taking it by the neck and tearing in. What a sick way of thinking about it... but that's what I did. It... God, it felt right. It's like I was doing what I was born to do, and as I drained him every instinct screamed in bliss. Even as I stared at his lifeless body curled up on the ground all I could do was smile before I caught myself. I later learned that this was called the Beast, and that's such a perfect word for it. Some horrible animal lurking just underneath my skin, biding its time before it can hijack me and gorge itself on some poor, unlucky bastard that happened to get in my way. So much for making my peace with God when I shared a vessel with a demon.

The gypsy stayed with me for a few days and told me what he knew. Which is to say, very little. I was a vampire now, I can't go out in the sunlight or I'll die, I need to feed on blood to survive but I should try not to kill anyone again while doing it. That was mostly it. He seemed scared of me, even though he was a monster just like I was. He kept going on about how he'd broken some kind of "rule" and that "they" were coming for him. He disappeared on the breeze, as gypsies usually do. I know what he did to me, but I still don't hold any ill will towards him. I know how hard it can be, when the world doesn't like your kind. I imagine that it's even harder when you're a vampire, so I really do hope he managed to escape whoever was coming for him...

I always said I wanted to live in London, where there actually seemed to be some kind of opportunity, unlike the stagnant ghettos of Northern England. I just thought that I'd arrive as something other than a bloodsucking monster. At least the condition made life on the streets relatively easy. I learned I had the ability to create illusions and hide myself in, though I always felt so drained after I did it. There were other vampires, but none seemed very interested in giving me answers. They would get horribly offended when I answered their questions on who had "sired" me, and sometimes I'd get death threats. So I just stopped telling them, answering that I didn't know. That just ended up getting me pity. A step up, really.

I eventually picked up that the vampires have some kind of government. How weird is that to think about? A vampire government. But they had rules. Pretty common-sense stuff. Don't let humans find out you're a vampire and all that. I'm sure there's a lot of other bullshit that goes along with it, but I've never really been in the mood to detangle it. Just keep my head down and I'll be okay. I never knew just how deeply I'd get tangled into all of it until one night, where I just so happened to pickpocket a very strange, curly-haired guy...