Forever 21

6 | The Sting of Death

"O Death! Where is thy sting? O Grave! Where is thy victory?" ~ 1 Corinthians 15:55 (Bible KJV)

The crisp night air was like cool silk against my skin. Save for the noisy crickets that chirped to announce the freezing midnight temperatures, the forest was completely silent. Freshly fallen snow crunched softly beneath my feet and my breath came out in puffs of fog. Walking past the point of human exhaustion, I never tired, Nature’s rule seeming to go on forever. I walked without pause until I realized I had no idea why I was walking or where I was headed.

Everything and nothing about the wintry scene before me begged for my attention, and it took a moment for me to figure out what was off about the perfectly staged, but classic, landscape of Parks. First and foremost, I didn’t think I created enough heat for my breath to produce a fog in the winter. It wasn’t a theory that I’d had an opportunity to test, but it was only logical.

Second of all, I didn’t remember the first snow. How the countryside could be blanketed in it contradicted what I remembered. That aside, assuming I had forgotten about it, the snow shouldn’t be crunching beneath my feet. Since becoming a vampire, I had become creepily quiet. When Rachel, Ivy and I had walked across the gravel of the parking lot it, while noisy beneath Rachel’s feet, had been muted at best beneath mine and Ivy’s.

That single memory opened the floodgates of my mind. Instinctually, I closed my eyes. Bits and pieces of those last moments before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket played on the backs of my eyelids in HD.

The night had called to me, the moon hanging uncharacteristically low and clear in the dark sky. A shiny blue Prius appeared before me, filling me with inexplicable dread. Though the memory was a bit fuzzy, when I looked at it I saw death. A burning sensation worse than any I’d experienced to date drew my attention downward to an arrow that stuck out below my collar bone. Just as suddenly as it appeared, it disappeared. I touched the skin where it had hit me, knowing it would be as smooth as the day I was born into the world. The sense of foreboding did not fade.

It wasn’t until Angela’s voice filled my mind that I began to get the gist of how this story would end. Silenced by the arrow that would seal her fate, I fought for control over the body that refused to do my bidding, horror and sadness my only companions as I caught her… and killed her.

Dry heaving, I gagged, my eyes watering when I couldn’t stop myself. I wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands, both of which became bloodied by my tears. It only made my heaving more intense. Fingertips brushed my back softly, consolingly, and I looked up at the comforting touch.

“Ivy!” I sobbed her name, dropping to my knees. The snow had melted, the trees, faded, and I cried harder when I realized I was back in the very parking lot where I’d killed Angela, murdered her, in cold blood. “I killed her! I killed Angela! Dear God, what have I done?”

She lowered herself to my level, bringing me into her arms while I wept into my hands. “What have I done?”

I repeated it over and over while Ivy stroked my hair. “Shhhhh. The first kill is always the hardest. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will get better. With time your impulse control will increase and fewer accidents will happen.”

Stunned and horrified, I drew away to look at her incredulously. “Fewer accidents? As in, I’m likely to have more?”

“It happens when we’re young.”

Before that statement, I’d been a huge advocate for the whole “honesty is the best policy” bit, but her response, truthful as it was, was the worst thing she could have said to me. If it were possible to be more upset, I’d be dead – well, dead dead, not undead. “How can you be so… so… so nonchalant? Like snacking on a human is okay? Acceptable. I can still hear the soft gurgling of her choking on her own blood – the rush and excitement of it in my veins – the emptiness and lack of remorse as I left her body behind.”