Bloodsucker

Love brought me back to life. Under the constant clouds of a rainy city, in the middle of high school, during a science class I had repeated and aced for a century, love wormed its way inside my hollowed chest—inside of my hollowed existence.

With love, comes fear. But my fear is not ordinary, for I am not an ordinary man. I lived for the last century in secret and shadows. I couldn’t feel emotions. I couldn’t accept my new reality. I was stuck between two worlds. I called it purgatory. My father, my creator, called it depression and stubbornness. Whatever the definition, it was only at the site of her that anything mattered—and she was first on that list. The thrill of my discovery was intensely satisfying, but then fear crept in, for she was human, I was  . . . not.

It was no ordinary love that I felt. I couldn’t stop the feeling or pinpoint where it came from. It was spontaneous and all-encompassing. I’d later discover her blood was meant for me. They call it a Singer. A blood that calls to you unlike any other.  A war was created in my head—how to love without consumption?

I wanted to love her more than I wanted to kill her.

I tried to stay away. I wanted her to understand we should not be friends, let alone lovers. But nothing scared her. My love was firm in her stance that nothing I could tell her would break us apart or make me less favorable in her eyes. I wanted desperately to believe her. I was awed by her innocence and open heart.

And then one day I risked everything—out in the open.

I confessed the truth.

I’ve lived masquerading for a century as a human, trapped in the body of a high school boy. I am a killer. I am of the undead. I am bloodthirsty for her. And I was in love with a human girl—her.

She never wavered in her stance of bravery and loyalty. Her eyes, so filled with love, begged me to stay and she confessed from her heart too, that she was in love with me. My heart had never known such joy. My human memories couldn’t recall the feeling of love, but as soon the words came from her lips there was peace again in my world. I wanted to cling to her forever. I needed her. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else registered in my mind after that moment.

My nights transformed from the darkness of midnight into a morning horizon. I watched my love sleep, dream, murmur my name. It was the only warmth I could feel in my immortal bones. There were moments when she touched me so tenderly, running her fingers across my lips, I thought I was human again.

The love burning inside of me for her was so bright and lively, but I had to be on my guard at all times. One little slip could kill her. That sweet blood flowing beneath the thin veil of her silky skin called to me like a siren. My mouth begged for a taste. 

I chanced her lips one evening, putting my stone-like frozen lips against her soft warm pout, and nearly ended her life. And instead of pushing me away or banishing me from her room permanently, she pulled me in for more. Asked to try again. I was so stunned by her bravery and need for me—a monster.

There were plenty of choices for my love—choices that were better suited, and human. I wanted her to leave as much as I wanted her to stay. A constant push/pull in our relationship. The need to save her from me, the need to claim her all for myself. That selfish beast inside of me was unable to let go and allow her to be free and human. Allow those boys to take her on a date, a normal perfectly boring but human date. She resisted all of their offerings. It was as if they were the monsters and I were the normal boy.

She never spoke of my secret to the popular girls who urged her to gossip about all of our time together, either. She’d speak only that we were friends and how much of a gentleman I was. They’d pry every day for more, beg to come to my house with her, but she never relinquished. Her loyalty was solid.

I resigned myself to the idea that this wasn’t going to end. I couldn’t live without her, and she wasn’t going to let me go.

I decided, if forever was our future I needed to quiet the monster that thirsted for her blood. Subdue him in any way possible. My plan was dangerous, I had deep reservations. I was going to desensitize myself to her blood. The less temptation the better. But that also meant more exposure.

I drove us out of town, far into the countryside and then we hiked for five miles until I found a spot I once loved. It was the most magical and spectacularly untouched meadow of wildflowers.

My love marveled at the scene around us. I took her hand and led her to the best spot. We lay in a field shoulder to shoulder and just breathed. I debated showing her too much, but when the sun broke through the clouds, I knew what had to be done. I felt the sun on my skin and that was the first time she had witnessed what I was—this ghostly figure that had translucent shimmering skin. But all she did was marvel and coax me further into the rays until I was fully committed to bathing in the light.

I removed my shirt and allowed her to have a good look at my skin.

Her eyes darkened in a way I had witnessed before, void of any awe or devotion. For the first time, she looked at me through the horrified gaze of a human girl—exactly how I had feared.

I moved closer to her thinking I had frightened her with my ghoulish skin, but her lips turned up into a sneer. I was suddenly aware we weren’t alone. From the woods emerged the boys that she had turned down so many times, a gang of them she had no idea were my mortal enemies. I bared my teeth and prepared to take them out, foolishly thinking they were here to do her harm, but then it clicked—they were with her. The tallest boy was a monster too, but of a different breed.

“Did you really think I could love you?” Her eyes appraised me, breaking me with the finality of her words. “Vampire.”