fledgeling

I thought that maybe I'd get one more glimpse of the sun, even for a second, as it was coming up. I didn't want to hurt myself, not at all. I just thought that I wouldn't feel like my last sight of sunlight was wasted. Needless to say, it didn't happen. He ushered me back into the van before it was even close to time. He seemed afraid, in a way he hadn't ever been about anything.

I guess it really is that serious that I stay away. Oh, well. I'll just have to resign myself to the darkness.

Not like it mattered much. As pitch-dark as it was in the van's canopy, I still knew the instant the sun came up, as his body went limp and still. A corpse. I expected this. It always happened this way. And a few seconds later, it happened to me as well. Instant unconsciousness. I'm not even sure my eyes closed. But in a way, it was blissful. There was no struggle. The battle to stop the rain of thoughts I'd known for years just... didn't happen. Is this how other people slept? Mortals, even?

I was, effectively, dead. But I still dreamed. Not that that was really worth recounting. It was just a distorted version of the previous night's events, playing over and over, each time feeling increasingly helpless. I lost count of how many times the pipe stuck into my back, how many times I opened my mouth to cry out in pain only to hear nothing but empty air.

I woke up, still just as dead, but animate at least. I looked over and saw that he was still asleep. For the first time since my embrace, there was absolute silence. Nothing to focus on than me and my own thoughts.

Underneath every one of those thoughts, was something new, something somewhat alien. It had been there last night, too. Something roiling and growling, barely muffled, under every thought I had. But now I could focus on it. I tapped into it and shuddered. Pure energy, pure hatred and hunger and aggression, but oh, the power behind it. It practically begged me not to let it go. It wanted to be free, to tear and destroy. But of course I couldn't give it what it wanted. I caged it back up and pushed it into my subconscious, but it was still there, reaching its claws through the bars and creeping into my every thought.

I touched my face, and just as I'd expected, there they were. That thing that lived inside me now brought them out. Fangs. Grotesque and predatory. Probably not the best fit for someone like me. But I was stuck with them now. I always would be.

It would be a lie to say that I've never felt never felt anything like it before. Every time I tasted the blood, something baser rose to the surface. Long-buried instincts, I guess, but brutish, narrow-sighted. But that was different. It was such a minor change, and pushing it to the background was so easy.

Now... there wasn't any escaping it. It truly was a part of me, a shadow on my soul.

How stupid, right? Look at me. I'm no predator. I'm small, weak. I couldn't hurt anyone if I tried. And I know I don't have to kill to feed now. But it's all there now, every instinct to be a killer.

There was only one thing to do now. I would have to get used to this life. At least learn how to live it responsibly.

When he finally woke up, I insisted that we go out and feed. He was a bit surprised at my eagerness, but it was partially for his benefit, too. It had been an awful night for him, as he was not only hurt worse than he was willing to admit, he'd nearly drained himself dry to keep me stable. I owed him this much, to not hold back out of fear.

We wandered the same haunts we had last night, but two pairs of eyes looked for prey. He found a mark quickly, and offered me the first bite. I declined. An idea had hit me, something awful and probably very irresponsible. But if I was going to learn to hunt, I would do it properly. If I would give anything back to him, it would to learn how not to be a burden.

I was going to take advantage of a lesson I'd learned years ago. Kindred are not the only predators out there. Plenty of mortal eyes are always looking out for the runts of the litter, the weak and vulnerable to drag away and devour in their own ways.

But even though I no longer fit that category, I still looked the part. It was such a dark thought. But it would work. And it would let me fend for myself.

I walked, alone, into the bar, still in shabby dress and looking too young to be there. A nice, trashy place where I didn't even get carded. This was the perfect hunting ground for what I wanted. And already I was starting to draw eyes. Yes, that's right. Just a poor, lost little boy. Out of his depth. Easy target.

I meandered around a bit and slowly eyes started to turn away from me. I kept my tabs on the ones that didn't until one pair was left, trailing me everywhere I went around the bar. I made contact. Smiled as coyly as I could. And then I headed to the restroom.

I heard someone push a chair backwards, and footsteps followed me. Perfect.

I hovered near the sink and through the mirror I saw him walk in. A middle-aged man, well-dressed and graying slightly. Typical. He was at least being subtle, nonchalantly walking over beside me and smiling, but I could see it in his eyes. Could he see it in mine? I smiled back, and without realizing it put all my teeth into it.

Not that he noticed. But my mind was in laser focus. There was no fear. The thing inside me knew what to do. Predator and prey. My pursuer had no idea who would end up being what.

No one was in there but the two of us. He knew that too, and reached out to make his move. I was faster, and I leaped at him. There was nothing but his neck, the wonderful-smelling, throbbing vein just underneath the skin. I sunk my fangs in like I'd done this my entire life and he went still, his broad hands squeezing into my sides.

The blood. Oh, God, the blood. For all that I had run over and over in my mind how disgusting it would be, to drink so much of it, pint after pint, it was not the case at all. It was the ultimate satisfaction, bringing heat to my cold body. I felt his heart pump faster in fear, and I drank up every bit, every pulse spiking raw pleasure through my mind. Nothing else mattered. It was this that I lived for.

It took everything I had not to drain him dry, the thing in my chest raging when I pulled away without making a kill. I closed the wound He was dazed, his shirt bloodstained, but ultimately alive.

/No one would have missed him if you'd just done it./

I shuddered at the thought, tried to shake it away even though it persisted. I settled for shoving the man in a stall and shutting the door. Let them think he had an accident. I checked myself in the mirror before I left, and found myself in quite a mess myself. Cleaning myself up, I let myself out in a hurry.

I met back with Takeshi, affirming that it had been a successful hunt. Of course he was surprised that I'd done it. Standing there then, regaining my sense of self... I knew that hadn't been me, not entirely. I would have locked up and became the devoured if I hadn't had help.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, living this life. But I know that I won't ever be the same.