The Girl Who Wanted To Be A Vampire

Copyright 1998 by David Zeiger

My life--at least the only part of it that really matters--began three months ago.

It started out as a typical Thursday night. I slipped out of my room by the window and caught a bus to the Red Orb club. Normally, a 15-year-old like me isn't allowed in, but I had cut a deal with the bouncer who worked Thursdays--I blow him a couple of times a month, and he doesn't check my ID.

It was after a couple of hours of dancing and drinking that I saw him. Or rather, he saw me, as his gaze was already locked on me when I noticed him.

Now, I don't go out looking to get laid. Quite the opposite in fact--but one look from those piercing brown eyes and I knew I'd be more than sleep with him tonight if he asked.

But that's not what he asked. Instead, he asked for my name--his was Lombard.

In fact, after a couple hours of dancing with him, I was thinking that he wasn't planning on making any sort of moves on me that night. It was, of course, right then that he started pulling me towards a back door.

At first, I thought it was strange that none of the bouncers stopped us from going back into the storage rooms. I understood why a few seconds later as I felt his teeth bite into my neck.

There really are no words to describe how that felt--far better than any orgasm I had ever experienced. It seemed to go on for hours.

But it did stop eventually, and as soon as it did, he tore into his own wrist and had me drink from it. The taste of his blood was strange--much less...coppery...than I had expected. He did not let me drink long.

"So there really are such things as..." I began.

"Vampires?" He finished, smiling, "Oh yes, we are quite real."

"And I'll become one?"

"Not yet. But soon, my child, soon."

"When? I've been wanting something like this my entire life!"

"In time. I wish a short delay as well--your soul displays the sparks of both life and death in a way I have not seen for...longer than I care to remember. But I have other obligations I must take care of I shall meet you here again in two months time."

"Two months!"

"Is nothing compared to the eternity that shall soon be yours."

It was the longest two months of my life. Not that I remember much of it. Most mundane things seemed so pointless--if algebra had any relevance at all to vampires, I'd pick it up again in a century or two.

Our second meeting went much like the first--dancing, then he sucked my blood, and I drank his. And, like the first time, I came out of the night still a mortal. When I asked him if it was strange that I had felt no effects at all from drinking his blood, he just shrugged and said that the ingestion of blood affects different people in different ways. He also promised that our third meeting, in a month, would my last night as a human.

That month ended tonight. I kinda felt a little bad as I snuck out, not being able to say goodbye to my parents. They really weren't too bad, really. Just confused and clueless. But I knew they'd try and stop me, so I had to slip out without them noticing.

But when I got to the club, Lombard was nowhere to be found. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I slipped out of the main club and made my way to the storeroom we had used the last two times.

Instead of Lombard, I saw a smallish blond-haired man, who appeared to be sweeping the room.

"Excuse me." I said to the man, "I was supposed to meet a friend here. I don't suppose..."

"You're here to meet The Lombard?" he asked, surprise evident on his face.

"Yes, Lombard--you're a friend of his?"

"Well, friend may be stretching it. I've known of him for a while, but tonight was our...first encounter. I'm afraid he won't be making any more meetings tonight, however."

The disappointment must have been evident on my face, as he studied me for a few seconds before a look of realization dawned on him. "Ah, he's bitten you, has he? How many times?"

"Twice. Tonight was, well, *the* night, you know?"

The man didn't reply, he just studied me for a few seconds, then shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something that sounded like "Close enough."

What happened next only took a few moments, but in my mind, the replays are all in slow motion. He reached behind his back and pulled out something--I guess it must have been some sort of strange crossbow--as before I could react or do anything, an arrow shot out from it and into my chest.

Before tonight, I had thought that pain had an erotic side to it--the whole pain/pleasure thing, you know. I know better now. A little bit of beating while being cuffed to a bed, that's not pain.

Pain is the feeling of a wooden shaft sliding through your heart. Pain is the feeling of a metal tip shattering your spine. And there's nothing even slightly erotic about it.

They say that when you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. It's done flashing now. I guess that means I'm dea...

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