Blood is life.
The thought had never meant more to him than it did in that moment as he felt a drop of the warm liquid glide down his neck. Blood – what each living being had inside them – was the fountain of their existence in the physical realm. Never had he thought of it beyond that, but now he understood that a being’s blood was so much more than that. It was life, not only for them, but for those that fed on it as well.
It had been an interesting sort of pain, when the fangs had first pierced the side of his neck. The position, perfectly placed to just knick his carotid artery to allow his blood to flow faster into the creature’s mouth. The fangs were so sharp that it took a moment for the full extent of the pain to be comprehended, but by then, a different sensation had filled his mind. The feeling of his blood being drained from his body, not freely as when a throat is slit open, but purposely and forcefully drawn out.
He would have tried to move; to pull away or at least struggle, but he found that his limbs were immobilized. Fear washed over him, which only made his heart beat faster. His heart, pumping his blood through his body and by his wound the creature’s mouth.
The creature drank in his lifeblood deeply, as a long time drunkard would drink in wine. The pain was unimaginable now, and he wondered how much longer it would continue before he died. It was clear to him that death was his only end. No salvation could find him here, not in the clutches of this creature. He wondered why, of all things, this was taking so long. He had watched the creature drink his companions within seconds, but this felt agonizingly long. Was it just his imagination? Did it seem so long because it was his blood that was being taken in?
It didn’t matter, though.
Death was inevitable.
He knew his end was extraordinary near, but his thoughts seemed to have nearly an eternity to explore. He thought of his mother, and it was the first and only time he was grateful that she was no longer among the living. He could only imagine the heartbreak she would have felt if she would have had to receive word of his death, assuming that anyone would ever even notice his disappearance. He had run away from home, and everyone had known it. No one would miss him, and no one would look for him.
His thoughts then wandered to his father, and disappointment filled him. His father had wished for him to become something great, despite the insurmountable odds against him. He had the potential to be a leader, or that had always been what his father had told him. If that had been true, then how had he found himself in this situation? He had certainly not led himself here...he had followed, blinded by greed, and now he would pay the price for it.
Impatience, anger, ignorance, and rage – those had been his greatest vices, and now they had turned against him. He had left his home in search of revenge, but he had never found it. He had found other things, learned other things, loved other things, but he never achieved what he had set out to do. Now, it seemed he never would.
His thoughts became muddled and he fought to keep his eyes open. The only sense he still had was that of pain, and the new pain that came. It was a sort of burning sting from where the creature had bit him, and it seemed to spread through his neck and body like an agonizing parasite.
He moaned in pain as the burning spread through every vein, and he only wished his end could come soon. Why was he not dead yet? He needed to die. He wanted to die. Why could his end not come now?
After what felt like an eternity, the creature’s mouth pulled away from him, the fangs sliding out of his neck slowly. He moaned again, his body too weak from blood loss and pain to do any more. The creature still held to the front of his shirt, and slowly, he was lain on the ground, almost so he wouldn’t be hurt. But why? Why was he…?
His vision was fading, and he felt his spirit becoming loose from the chains of his body. At last…at long last he had reached his end. There was still a bit of fight at the thought of death, but every living being becomes afraid when they stand at death’s door. He was not as terrified as he thought he would have been, but still, he was afraid. Dying alone, dying this way…it was not something he had ever wanted.
He blinked one last time as his head rested against the cold, stone floor. He had never gotten what he’d wanted in the past, so why should he have expected his death to be any different?
At long last, he closed his eyes, and entered death’s welcoming embrace.
---
When he opened his eyes, he was disoriented at first. His body was weak, and even his shallow breaths were agonizingly painful. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at the dark cavern around him. The campfire that had been burning brightly before was now little more than a pile of ash and glowing embers.
He turned his head slightly, looking around at the floor of the cavern. The bodies of his companions were gone, but the pools of congealed blood still remained.
And then he remembered.
He remembered what they had done, what they had come for, and what had transpired after because of their folly. He remembered being pinned down as he watched the creature kill his companions, before it turned its fangs to him. He remembered feeling the pain as his blood had been drained. He remembered the burning pain course through his body afterwards. He remembered the creature letting him go, leaving him to slip into eternal oblivion…
He jerked his head up quickly. Hadn’t he died? He had felt death come to him, he had even welcomed it, but here he was now, still in the cavern, still among the living. Or that was what he thought, at least.
Something was different now. He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it. Something had changed within him. He was here, but he was different.
Sitting up slowly, he ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, and he gasped suddenly when he felt a sharp pain and tasted blood. He raised his hand to his mouth, touching the edges of his teeth as his eyes grew wide. He felt the fangs protruding out, and even the slightest touch being unbearably painful.
At last, he understood. At last he knew why the creature had saved him for last, why it had seemed that his death was taking longer than the others. The creature had drank his blood until he was on the brink of death, and from there, save him, but giving him the venom, the taint that would infect his body until he became the creature that had bitten him.
He suddenly heard footsteps coming towards him, and he inclined his head towards the direction of the sound. Still weak, he had to focus to see clearly, but when he realized who he saw, his eyes grew wide. Here was the creature, once again in the form of the old scavenger, walking towards him.
The old man crouched down beside him, smirking as he brushed a bit of the young one’s dark hair from his face, forcing his mouth open again and examining his fangs and then checking his eyes. “Good,” he rasped, giving a cruel smile. “I knew you were a strong one.”
Had he the strength, he would have pushed the old man away, but for the time being he could only glare at him with menacing hatred. He didn’t even have the strength to speak.
The old man – the creature – smiled again. “I see the look in your eyes, boy,” he whispered. “You have a hatred that I have not seen in many, even in my lifetime. You thought you would never have the chance to take your revenge, and now,” he chuckled softly. “Now, you will have all eternity.” He let his hand drop away from him as he stood and walked back out of the cavern in silence.
The pain seemed to be dulling down now, though he still could not move. All he could think of were the old man’s words. All eternity…he couldn’t even fathom that. Could this be? Was this really his fate? He knew that anything, even death, could not take him now, and there was only one reason for it. He ran his tongue along the ridges of his teeth again, careful around the fangs. This was to be his future. He, Alveon Valdair, would be immortal as a vampire.
