The vampiric urge to go outside

The cafe was lonely at 3:41 a.m. The radio stations had stopped playing popular songs people cared about, and the singular waitress hummed as she worked, restocking, wiping down tables.

Everything was exactly how I wanted it. The unnaturally bright light of the cafe was from cheap bulbs that didn't burn my skin, and I breathed in the warmth of coffee. For a few moments, my skin was imbued with heat it didn't have anymore.

I felt human.

The cafe's stereotypical bell jangled cheerily, and I turned, frowning a little. I knew the rhythms and regulars of this cafe, but this was new.

Avianna raised an eyebrow at me, her leather boots squeaking from the rain outside. She climbed onto the high stool next to me, and with a click of her fingers, the radio changed stations. Static and then jazz, static again, then rock.

At this point the waitress had looked up at the radio, blue eyes wide with surprise, so Avi sighed, clicking her fingers until the radio changed again. This time, to appropriately smooth, slow songs.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" I smiled lightly at the witch, whose brown hair was black with rainwater and plastered to her small, brown face.

"I couldn't sleep without a story, grandpa." Avi replied and then put on her brightest smile for the waitress. "Hot chocolate, please. With whipped cream."

I snickered into my coffee, soothed by the familiarity of our jabs if not Avianna's sudden presence.

"Stay at home today. The other witches came up with a plan, and the sun's not going to go down once it's up. If you need to feed-"

"Why?" I interrupted, surprised.

"They're getting tired of the hunt, and figured they could force vamps into the sun. Many of your kind would eventually leave to feed." Avianna drummed her fingertips on the glossy surface of the counter.

"Why warn me?" I asked, stirring the coffee to have something to do.

The witch glared at me. "I don't know." She admitted finally, resting her head on folded arms. "Maybe it's a mistake. Or maybe, you saved my life and I owe you." Avianna tossed some bills on the counter. "Anyways, try not to get tanned."

"I'll do my best." I smiled back at the conflicted witch, turning to watch her leave.

The rain's gentle roar entered the room briefly as the door jangled open again, and then, just like that it was quiet again.

The waitress emerged again from the kitchen, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate. "Where-?" She asked, taking out one earbud.

"She left some money." I jerked my head towards it and then smiled at the waitress. "Sorry, but could you change the radio?"

The waitress still looked bewildered but she nodded, setting down the drink and turning around.

It was a shame to disrupt my routine.

In a second, I moved from my seat to behind the waitress and sank my teeth into her neck.

She briefly struggled, but after I'd drunk my fill I compelled her to forget.

Then I added some bills to Avianna's pile and left.

The rain came to a halt, and I looked up, enthralled by the light mist in the air.

Already, as the clock approached 4, some light was beginning to make the dark night more blue.

I moved quickly, heading home and pulling down every blackout blind. Being a vampire was so inconvenient. Especially in this day and age.

Not showing in mirrors or cameras meant one had a very minute understanding of their own appearance. I didn't even remember, anymore, what colour my own eyes were. Sure, vamps didn't show up on CCTV, but their crimes did.

And crimes led to crime scenes, where evidence was gathered. It added up and you had to keep moving. Over and over and over.

Not showing up on camera meant friends got suspicious of why you didn't want to be in photos. And nobody trusted the picture-less profiles on Tinder.

It was somehow more lonely now than it used to be in the good old days. The world was a far less known place then, and crimes, vampires, and the dirty little secrets of societies remained secret.

The sun was up now, according to the internet, and I felt the strange compulsion to go out there and just die.

It was a usual feeling now. The desire to want to burn. To put an end to the centuries that sped by, the multitude of identities and half-lives.

I heard the normal sounds of life. Honks from cars, and children screaming at a nearby playground. Heartbeats of neighbours moving past my door.

This is why I couldn't belong. Why most vampires eventually just ended it themselves, without the need for witches to put an end to them.

When the sun was up, humans were alive. They moved, made noise, and permeated the air with their fragile heartbeats and the scent of their blood.

And vampires couldn't be there. No, my haunts were now and forever going to be detached from the living. I was on the night shift of planet earth, confined to dark theatres, cafes open at night, forced to feed on the drowsy and unsuspecting.

Any adventure I took, any action, relied on the cover of darkness. Those few hours outside made me live. Made it seem even partially worth it to keep living.

And now that was gone.

The first few hours were ignorable. They slipped by like with the Netflix episodes and youtube tutorials.

But after. The call came to me again. To just do it.

The witches, humans, everything wanted me gone. So just open the blinds...

My eyes trailed over to my shelf. But then who would finish my books? Each deserved my attention, each chosen word deserved my mind.

So I read.

And the hours trickled by some more. We were now officially at 5 p.m., and since I hadn't known that the sun wouldn't leave, I didn't have more books.

I was sure, that by now, most of the vamps in this city were desperate. They would be eagerly awaiting the sunset, half-rabid with a growing, irresistible thirst.

Despite my own feeding, I too felt the beginnings of it. Every vampire was familiar with it: that thirst. At the beginning of our transformations, we guzzled down alcohol, coffee, water, juices.

Cans and bottles rattled under our feet as we paced. On fire with the desire. But the desire for what?

It was unnamable, untamable, and somehow we all realized it.

For me, it was when my mother began cutting meat for dinner.

The smell of blood.

I chased away those memories and sat up. Time moved so oddly for beings with no need to eat at set times, use toilets, or move.

I had no idea how much time had passed, and when I consulted the clock I was sorry to find that it was merely only 8.

Vampires all over the city had undoubtedly perished. And it was taking every ounce of my cunning and cajoling to stop myself from joining them.

Every human, at its core, is programmed to live. Vampires are no different.

There's no cognitive dissonance, no preamble to survival. Everyone just does it. Like I'm doing it, making myself reach for paper instead of the door.

Draw, paint, cut ugly lines into the page. We can do this, we can survive.

I decided to breathe a little. Why not? Maybe it would calm me?

"-weird. Shouldn't it be dark by now?"

"Yeah, and it's the middle of September, not like, the summer solstice or something."

I listened to the voices passing outside my door and became obsessed with the idea of opening it.

Open it. Just open the door and die.

All my trained social graces, the manners I'd spent days ingraining in myself, strained and snapped. Knife in one hand, fork in the other. Be polite. Sit up straight. Stay calm. Stay calm, stay calm.

A growl formed in my chest. I bit down on my own wrist, thrashing on the floor, my fangs digging craters into my flesh.

Blood, precious, stiff, dark blood trickled in the craters and I giggled.

Water on the moon, water in my pale, lifeless skin. It shouldn't be there, but it is. My cracked, empty veins still hold water. Water, water, water in Avianna's hair.

Still on the floor, I craned my neck at the clock. 11 p.m.

Almost there, don't die.

Don't kill yourself. You have books to read. Is that what a firefighter would tell a librarian perched on the edge of a bridge? My mind asked, with gleeful, horrible amusement.

People to drain, disease to spread, vampires to birth. Parasites. Parasites everywhere.

I rolled on the carpet and breathed. I had lived for four hundred and twelve years now. Do you have any idea what I've seen?

Neither do I! The human mind can barely handle the contents of a measly 90 year-old life at best. And even then it starts to give.

"Now what was the name of my daughter? Where are my keys?" I mumble feverishly, counting the curves on the surface of my ceiling. Squint and they're worms. Crawling, eating away at graveyard flesh.

I don't know anything anymore. Is the sun up yet? Is it down? Is the moon out, unrivalled in its glory in the sky?

I'm crawling, I realize. I can ignore 6-12 hours of daylight, I swear. But this?

The knowledge that they designed a day to kill me?

I'll take it.

No, I won't. I slam my head into the floor, nauseated with the impact.

My vision spins. The damage will take time and blood I don't have.

Without meaning to, I pass out.

Then I don't. It's healing, and I'm starting at the clock with wobbling hands, unable to read the time.

The time? What's the time? I swear I'll do it. They gave me 24 hours, me! They did it especially.

Don't be rude, the polite part of me says. Vampires replace their feelings with manners, don't you know? We're all stiff pricks.

"Haha, stiffs." I notice with a grin, my voice quiet.

The window is limned with gold. Gold sunlight.

"It's over!" I announce happily, crawling over to the window.

I'm right under the sill, my concussed head brushing the smooth paint.

Gasping, I reach a hand out for the cord.

Any moment now the warmth will burn the half-life out of me.

The wall helps me crawl up and I yank the cord. Rip off the band aid.

The black out blind snaps up.

And I blink at the streetlight outside my window. It's dark.

My hands match the coolness of the window. I know because I cannot feel it. Science tells me that I should.

It's just night...

My phone turns on when I squeeze it and I recoil from the light.

It's 2 a.m.

I open my phone and type.

24 hour cafes.

Google supplies the answers in a second, and I head for the door.