"Vamp. 1" by Cheyenne Kai

Come. Taste my blood.

I will take your soul,

I will damn your life.

You will soar to heights unimaginable.

You will slowly rot. Rot in hell as I once did.

For this is your new life now.

***

'But I want more,' I whined as my sire gently eased my lips from the beautiful neck of the dead woman lying next to me.

 'Later. you will be sick if you drink too much, too soon. Remember, you are not yet fully turned.'

 I sighed, and looked up at him. I smiled as I licked the last drops of blood from around my mouth and savored the exhilarating rush of drinking such a powerful substance. 

I was happy until I glimpsed my faint reflection in the mirror. It was hard to believe I'd only a couple of hours ago been a depressed fifteen year old, regretting my life and wanting to die. Now I was so much more. My sire had made me that, and I had thanked him. I stared at the deathly white skin, and the red patches around my lonely eyes. Through the crimson coloured lips some more blood leaked, and I hungrily licked at it with my tongue.  Only then I realised my fantasies about seductive vampires were false. I wasn't beautiful. I was a monster. I looked away sharply, disgusted at how good the blood tasted, mingled with my own image of drinking it, playing in my mind over and over. I looked at the women with sorry eyes, no longer seeing her as a meal, watching the veins in her neck pulsing with food, but as a person. Someone with family and friends who would cry salty tears when they found her lying here, in her own blood. My sire had already started making certain cautions to make it look like suicide. I remembered her screams when we first walked into her room. Her petrified eyes that couldn't understand what was happening until it was too late. I had stood there laughing. I didn't want to wait any longer to taste my first change of drinking blood. Human blood. Her blood. The memories of my sire now filled me with hurt when I saw him pierce her flawless neck  once she had given up struggling-to make it easier for me to suck from. I remembered her reaching for me, then going limp from exhaustion. I returned the favor by sucking up her last essence of innocence, like a thirsty dog.

 I was still watching her when my sire put a hand on my shoulder, and spoke softly: 'It gets easier each time. Now aren't you glad you didn't drink any more?'

 The sick joke made me look at him with anger I'd never felt before. Even the anger I'd felt for my life as a human didn't compare to this. He'd made me kill a person. He'd made me kill my own mother. I saw her dead body one last time, and tried to remember her life. Because I had took it.