Immortality Bites

We walked among you, but you never noticed. That was your mistake, not seeing us was what would get you killed. I was not normal, my life ended and another began. My name was Katie Blakewell, before him, before he killed me. I had a family, a sister, mom, and dad. They were gone. I was all that was left. Then my name was Constanice. I lived in Atlanta, I had friends, Hanna, Julie, Malinda. Now my name is Phoebe Lane. I live in Chicago. I have friends again but I do my best to keep them at arm's length, to keep them safe from them, from me. I never want to hurt people but I can’t help it. It’s now in my nature, I hate it. I’ve searched my whole new life for a way, any way to get out of this but it's impossible. Death will never come again. It's like I’ve chased away my only chance to be happy again. To see my family again.

“Phoebe?” A far away voice called my name. I didn’t care, I was already sprialing. I felt nothing anymore; it was like my heart was an iron gate, nothing in or out. I wanted to out run my pain but as fast as I could go it wouldn’t be fast enough.

“Phoebe?!” I was pulled out. Emma Hernadaz , one of my new friends, was shaking my shoulder. She was a small and curvy girl. Her skin was a light brown and her hair was long and black and she left it down in soft waves. She wore black stilettos with her small black dress. She wore turquoise eyeshadow and dark purple lipstick. She looked great. She was a bartender at a different bar downtown called “Streeter’s Tavern”. Lots of the guys in the club were looking at her or my other friend, Scarlett Jones. Scarlett, like her name implies, had fiery red hair and a red outfit to match. Her makeup looked like it had been professionally done, with her perfect smoky eyes and bright red lip. Her bright red crop top and mini skirt showed off her thin body and long model legs. She actually was a model so it made since. She was already on the dancefloor with some guy with muscles for days and an almost shaved head.

“Sorry,” I faked a smile and drank the last of my drink. Vodka soda didn't do anything but if I didn’t they would think something’s wrong. “Zoned out,”

“Well that guy has been staring at you since we walked in,” she pointed to a blonde guy at the end of the bar with a chiseled face and blue eyes.

“Not my type,” I waved at the bartender for another drink.

“Okay I’ve been trying to set you up for months and nothing,” she looked at me frustratingly. “You need to give some guy a chance,” the bartender set my drink in front of me and I took a sip. The honest truth was that I didn’t date. Too complicated, too messy. After my last relationship I decided not to date ever again.

“I’m just not interested,” I said calmly. Emma was great but she was pushy. She would get her way by any means.

“Go over there or I’ll drag you over there myself,”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” She stepped aside and did a comical bow. I got up from the bar and walked over to the restroom. Five stalls lined the wall, and a giant mirror lined another with five sinks under it. I walked over to the stall and I was overcome with dizziness. I ran to the sink and braced myself.

I was hungry. I lifted my head to look in the mirror. My hair usually hung in loose waves but I straightened it for tonight so now my hair was halfway down my back. In my old life it had been honey blonde, and my eyes had been a deep ocean blue. Now my honey blonde hair was streaked with platinum, not by choice. After I died it turned that way. My deep blue eyes now were light along my pupil. My lashes were thick even without mascara. My eyes were covered with red eyeshadow and were lined with black eyeliner. My nose was small, it seemed to be the only thing that didn’t change about my physical appearance besides my heart shaped face. My lips were a little fuller than they were. I had used a blood red lipstick to color them that night. I looked at my clothes, they really weren’t me. Emma bought me my outfit, it was a matching light blue halter top and skirt with strings from my shirt tied around my stomach. My shoes were strappy black heels. It was a good thing I couldn’t feel much pain or they would have been unbearable.

My hunger hit again. I felt like I was getting stabbed. I needed to eat. I hated this. It was sick and twisted. I walked back out to the bar.

“You know what, I will go and talk to that guy,” I said as I walked past my friend. If I stopped to look at her I would never have done it.

“Great go get him girl!” she yelled at me. I did my best to look alluring to him. As I walked over his eyes never left me. When I got next to him he was staring much farther south than I felt comfortable with, but I had to get through it.

“Well hello, sweetness,” he laughed. He was obviously drunk. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Hi,” I faked a dumb blonde smile. I hated acting stupid, but this is what most guys espicially this kind liked. I could feel his excitement rising. I could feel what others feel, if I tried hard enough. I could also tell what lured someone. What would make them want someone so much they would do anything. I could tell this guy was just as basic as could be. He wanted a girl that would do what he said, so I would play along. For now.

“So what’s your name?” I never told them my real name. In case they ever remembered. I had a million names so it wasn’t hard to think of a fake name.

“Violet,” I leaned over and made sure that he could see a little more of what he wanted.

“James,”

“Good to know,” I batted my eyes and walked away. I could feel his eyes on me like a knife. It made me tense and uncomfortable. I walked on the dancefloor and let him follow behind me. I swayed to the rhythm of the music, using it to zone out to what was happening. The man ran his hands over me and it made me want to break his arm. I zoned out and thought of something else. My life before dying. I lived in New York City. I loved the hustle and bustle of the city, the sound of traffic was my lullaby as a child. We lived in a small apartment. I recalled the face of my mom. She looked like me but her hair was a few shades darker and her eyes were green. We had the same figure now, both tall, both slightly curvy. My sister was the same. She was two years younger. She had begged our mom to let her dye her hair black and it suited her well. With her green eyes she looked almost cat-like. Then I imagined my father. He was very tall and strong. His eyes were the same striking blue as mine, his hair the same shade. His hair was always short at the side and a little longer on top. He was clean shaved most days but sometimes there would be scruff on his face that slightly scraped my face when he hugged me. I imagined my family altogether at the dinner table having dinner as always. Laughing and having a great time. But we weren’t perfect, we had our arguments. The night before we died I had fought with them about going to a party. I desperately wanted to go, but my parents refused. I sunk out in my best dress, a silver fringe dress that stopped just below my knee. When I came back…

To my mind came a few quick flashes, mainly my family covered in blood. I snapped to the present. James still had his hand all over me, I wanted to cringe at his touch but I need to eat.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked me, his hand was way too far South for me. In my head I was barfing but for now I did need to get him out of here.

“Sure,” he began to lead me to the front exit. It was too risky, luckily I knew every backway out of every club in this city.

“No this way it's quicker,” he smirked at me and I rolled my eyes. I led him through the back. I was friends with one of the kitchen staff members so they let us out that way to an alley.

As soon as we got out the door he pinned me to the wall. At this point I was toying with him letting him think he was in control, I acted as if I was scared. Nothing scared me anymore, especially not this guy.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Not what you were expecting?” he reached for the hem of my skirt and began to pull at the fabric. I pretended to act frantic, this seemed to urge him on more. It was clear I was not the first girl to have to fend this guy off and I probably wouldn’t be the last. He forced his lips onto my neck and began to kiss. I could hear his pulse racing, I could definitely feel his excitement going up. Now was the time to strike.

I used my real strength now. I could stop a freight train if I wanted to, I grabbed his shoulder and let one of them crack. He let out a painfulled cry.

“Yeah, Yeah, shut up,” I put force onto my words and he sat there quietly. “I’m a little sorry about this but I need food and you seem like a creep so bon appetit to me,” I smiled devilishly at him, his eyes grew wide but not one more sound escaped his lips. I spoke with force again. “You won’t remember anything about this. When I’m done you will go home, go to bed and think that you called a cab to your house from the club,” he nodded, his eyes glossed over in a trance-like state.

No matter how many times I did this it was always awful. He stood there paralyzed I put my hands on his shoulders drawing him close. I forced out my fangs, and I pierced his skin. As a human I would have described blood as metallic and disgusting. Now as a vampire, it was delicious. Usually if a person had eaten or drank anything within the last few hours I could taste it. This guy tasted like a cheeseburger and fries with beer. Heavy on the beer. It wasn’t the best but it was food and my hunger was intense. I moaned with delight at the filling sensation I was getting from him. I needed it. I had gotten pretty good at knowing when to stop before I killed people. I could take about three pints and they would be just fine after a few hours. But since this guy had been so handsy I decided four would be better. Besides, only living on three pints at a time was hard enough.

A full human would keep me completely filled for about four days, a little hungry for about three more and then I could go four more days before I absolutely had to feed. On three pint I would only be full for two days, hungry for two more and then have to feed in one more day. If I really wanted to push it I could go two, but I would have to be desperate. The human body holds around ten pints of blood, so taking three or four pints isn’t that bad. I reached about four pints and he had been passed out for most of my feeding. I slapped him in the face to wake him up.

“Hey look at me,” he looked at me sleepily. “What happened?” I knew what he would say but I had to see. I always checked.

“I-I don’t know,” his voice was weak and then he went back to sleep.

“Good,” I walked away from the man and I caught a glance at my appearance. It scared me how I could now drain a person and I didn’t look any different other than a streak of red running from my mouth. I wiped away the crimson stain. I had a flashback to my first time feeding. It was a week after I had died. I wandered the streets of New York City, I could hear everything, smell everything. If I ran I felt like I could outrun a cheetah. If I lifted a bus like it was like a feather. The downside was I was miserable. My family was dead. I was dead. Yet I was walking around stumbling because of the intense pain in my stomach, like I was being stabbed with a knife. My ears kept zoning in and out on peoples heartbeats. My eyes on the veins in people's necks. Eventually after wandering around for more than a few hours a man grabbed me. I still don’t know who. He dragged me into an alley. I don't remember what his face looked like but I could remember what he wore. He wore a black bowler hat, a dark purple tie, and black day suit. I remembered what I looked like at the time. My hair was in a short bob cut, I wore a simple blue dress with long sleeves and a frilly collar. Men have been scum for centuries but I couldn’t tell what he was trying to do. I didn’t care, all I could hear was his blood pumping. It was deafening. I couldn’t help myself. I launched myself at his neck. I heard his screams but I didn’t care. I just cared about his blood, this warm delicious liquid was filling me. I could feel it dripping down my mouth, covering my dress. I kept drinking till he was drained. He dropped to the ground in a lifeless pile. I stared in horror at what I had done. His jacket didn’t have much blood so I took it and covered my body and raced back to my family's apartment and changed. After that my life was never the same.

“Better get out of here.” I sighed. I knew that he would be fine. I knew that he wouldn’t end up like me. I had never made someone like me. I knew how. I would have to drink some of their blood and then force some of my blood into their system by mixing them together. It was a painful process that I remembered all too well. It was a searing pain like being branded but you could feel the pain in your blood. In your bones. Over my hundred years of being a vampire, I’ve only known two. The one that killed my family and turned me. And one that was my friend. I didn’t know where he was now, but he once told me that some people didn’t survive the transformation. I always thought that they were the lucky ones. They didn’t have to live in this hell.

I made sure that I didn’t have any blood left on my face or on my clothes and went back to the club. I saw Scarlett and Emma both with men on the dancefloor. I went back to my seat at the bar and waited for my friends. I did my best to make myself inconspicuous, I hated drawing attention to myself after I fed. I grabbed my drink again and took another sip trying to get the taste of cheeseburgers, fries, and beer out of my mouth. Emma glanced over at me and I waved at her. She headed over to me, and sat down next. Her smile was wide and she was really out of breath.

“He seems nice,” I smiled as I teased her.

“Yeah his name is Alan,” she waved at him as he continued to dance. “Where is that cute blonde guy?”

“He was a creep,” I rolled my eyes. “This is why I don’t do that,”

“Sorry,”

“No it’s fine, but I’m tired and I have work in the morning, I’m going home,” I actually wasn’t tired at all but it had been a long day.

“Okay do you want some help getting a cab?”

“No thanks, it’s a nice night I think I’ll just walk,” she gave a small hug

“Fine but be safe, I’ll tell Scarlett,”

“Great bye,” I waved to Scarlett as I exited the club. I walked down the street. My apartment wasn’t very far, about four blocks or so. And I was the most dangerous thing on the street. I was fast, strong, and almost invincible.

Myths about vampires have been spread throughout history. Sunlight is not a problem, I don't sparkle, I don’t burn, the only thing is that my eyes were a little sensitive but that’s nothing sunglasses couldn’t fix. I could go to church, heck I did go to church. A wooden stake to the heart would definitely kill me, but other things could too. My head being taken off would definitely do the job, fire would do it too. Garlic on the other hand did nothing, I actually loved garlic. I did have a reflection. I could eat human food if I wanted to. It would even help with my cravings for blood slightly but it would never stop completely. And don’t believe what some shows and books tell you I tried it, the drinking blood of animals didn’t work. Catching them was easy but every time I drank their blood I would throw up and the urge to drink more blood intensified.

On my walk back to my apartment all I could think about was the one thing I wished for. My freedom from this curse. I wanted nothing but to be human again. At one point I had searched for a cure but to no avail. There wasn’t much to go on. Rumors spread by other vampires, folklore and legends, no solid evidence. I didn’t want to die as a vampire. I wanted to have children and grow old but that will never happen. But if I couldn’t be human then I would destroy the one that made me like this if I ever got the chance. I wished I could remember more about the man who did this. I remembered his face was stained with blood, his tux was stained too. The details of the majority of his face was blurry. I remembered slicked back hair that was so black it reminded me of squid ink, and kaleidoscope eyes that haunted me. He was my nightmare, my monster. Not a day went by when I didn’t think of him or what he took from me, but the odds of me ever finding him were slim to none. There were thousands of us, but we blended in so well with other humans. It was only by chance that I met another one.

My friend, the only other vampire I had known, I had caught him feeding on a young brunette. I remembered how charming and sweet he was. I liked him. He was someone who could help me and give me some comfort. Someone like me. But he was different from me. He had grown to like being a vampire, he would be about five hundred twenty three years old, but he had died at twenty one. His hair was dirty blonde and he styled it slightly spiky. His eyes were a light brown, his smile was kind, and he was always clean shaved. He was slightly muscular and lean. I remembered his voice. He had lived in America for almost four hundred years but he still had the slightest hint of a british accent. I remembered how boyish and playful he was. It was so hard when we had to part ways. But we had no choice. A touch on my shoulder shook me out of the memory of my friend.

I turned around to see a friendly face. Ximena, my next door neighbor. She stood there in a black tank top and red plaid pajama pants. Her tight black coils were up in a puffball on the top of her head. Her medium brown skin was even darker in the moonless night sky. She stood there, arms crossed and a smile laid seamlessly on her face. She wasn’t very tall, just over five feet tall.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I smiled at her and lied through my teeth. There would be times that Ximena would almost catch me when I would bring my meals home with me. I sometimes would date guys just so I could get some extra blood but there would always be no attachment. I would date them for a few weeks, drink some blood from them a few times and then let them go. But as always they wouldn’t remember a thing.

“Yeah right, you almost passed the building,” she laughed. I loved this building. I had enough money for a house but apartments were just easier. Easier to remain unattached to one place for too long. After about five or seven years I always moved, when people saw that nothing changed about me they would get suspicious.

“Okay, you caught me,” I laughed and held my hands up in surrender. “I was a little lost in thought, nothing big, I was just thinking about this friend I used to know when I lived in Kansas City.” That was a lie. I actually met him in New Orleans. But I couldn’t leave any real traces of the past.

“Oh well a guy came by the building earlier today asked if you lived here; could this be the friend?” I did my best to hide my surprise and my terror.

“What was his name?” I grabbed her shoulder. I did my best to control my strength but she winced in pain.

“He didn’t tell me.” she yanked my hands off of her and rubbed the spot. “When I said that you weren’t home he left.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good,”

“Too bad if you ask me he was kinda cute,” she smirked.

“Believe me if he comes back around stay away from him, he’s bad news,”

“Whatever,” she laughed. She didn’t know how bad he really was. If he was the same as before he would kill her without hesitation. It is why we had to part ways. He had become too ruthless and too reckless. He left so many bodies in his wake that we were almost discovered. It was too dangerous. He was too dangerous.

“Come on,” I laughed. “It’s cold,” I really couldn’t feel the cold. My body was practically dead so I really couldn’t feel the cold or the heat. We walked in together and headed to the elevator. “So on the subject of guys, how is Brian?” I smirked at her as she blushed.

“Good,” her voice raised slightly. My heightened ears could hear the slightest change in the pitch of her voice and everytime that she talked about Brian, another of our neighbors, her voice went up ever so slightly.

“Have you asked him out yet?” her face dropped to a frown.

“No,” I didn’t need to read her feelings to know that she was heartbroken. She had been in love with him since before I moved in two years ago. It was completely obvious that he loved her but they were too oblivious to realize it. After the first year of trying to get them together, I had given up. And it didn’t help that Brian had girls over all the time. When that happened I really hated my great hearing. Ximena on the other hand never had anyone over. They dealt with things in different ways, that much was clear.

“Girl, you really need to get a grip! Just ask him out already!” I sometimes tried to meddle a bit but I did my best to stay out of it. I needed some form of entertainment.

“He doesn-”

“Let me stop you right there. I have known the both of you for like two years and I can tell trust me he likes you,”

“Then why-” her rising distress was getting on my nerves. And it was coming out in my voice.

“I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with thinking that you aren’t interested. And I don’t even know what would make him think that.”

“Me either,” Our conversation was interrupted by the ding of the elevator. We walked down the hall in silence until we reached our doors. Mine was number twenty, hers twenty one.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I unlocked my door and walked inside. I loved this apartment. It was one of my top five favorites I’d have over the years. It was large and spacious. The kitchen was big with marble countertops and a stainless steel sink and fridge. My living room had a large black couch that was so comfortable I sometimes preferred it to my bed, a loveseat and a black recliner. My bedroom was filled with pictures of me from the current decade so people wouldn’t get suspicious, but I had hundreds of photos. All of those pictures were filled with fake smiles and people.

They had been around longer than any vampire. Lies that filled all of our lives. The friends that I had some were dead, some I would never see again. I refused to keep any photos of my family, the pain was forever raw. My room also had a bed. A regular bed not a coffin. That stereotype was so weird I didn’t even know how it started.

“Home sweet home,” I mumbled to myself. I turned on the light and something made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end. I walked through my kitchen, my nerves on end. I turned the corner into my living room, but I was grabbed on the wrists. Whoever did it swung me and pinned me against the wall. I used all my strength to try and get out but I was only able to get one hand out of their grasp. I pushed them away and pinned them to the ground, but they were too strong. They pinned me again and I could feel their breath on my face.

“You always were a strong one,” I recognized the voice. Cocky and slightly british.

“No way?” I felt my face go red as I felt him get off of me and zip over to the light switch.

“Nice place, you always did have great taste.” he smirked at me mischievously. I missed that but it also annoyed me to no end. He was dressed like a modern twenty year old. A jean jacket over a black metallic t-shirt with dark wash jeans and vans. His dirty blonde hair was the same spikey and shaved on the sides. His face was the exact same. His eyes were still light brown. His mouth still rested in his kind smile. Damn, I didn’t realize how much I missed him. I couldn’t show him that though. I crossed my arms and gave him a small scowl but I did my best to keep my face neutral.

“What are you doing here, Felix?”