BLOODLUST

Memories of 1999

Chapter 22: Memories of 1999

 "No vampire can enter the gate as long as a single peony is blooming... All those who attempted to enter after that day burned to death. All except you.” 

I stir from my deep slumber as I felt movements on the far end of the bed. I can still remember my dream of drinking the little boy’s blood as I opened my eyes to see him, fifteen years older. Wesley Whitmore, it can’t be. I thought as I stared at him, removing my shoes and carefully placing them on the shiny hardwood floor. The same long silvery blonde hair, the same bluish green eyes, the same name and the same house. How can I possibly have a memory of him as a five year old?

“I see you’re awake.” He spoke, placing my foot back on the bed.

“Obviously.” I answered, giving him a faint smile.

“I see you’re in the wrong room.” He said, twitching his lips in a small arrogant smirk that lasted for a second. My eyes widen in realization as I looked at the posters of Metallica and framed achievement certificates. He giggled at my reaction. It was then that I finally saw the resemblance he has with Kyle; the adorable smile and the irresistibly cute giggle. “I said, second door to the left. Not room number two.” He said as I sat up straight.

“I didn’t even know the rooms here have numbers. Why does it have numbers anyway?” I asked, fixing my revealing top that’s minutes away from bursting into pieces from the monstrous feeding that I just had.

“This house used to be a hotel. Didn’t Kyle tell you that?” He answered, kicking off his shoes.

“No. I mean yes, he did mention we’re staying in a hotel but why isn’t it a hotel anymore?” I asked.

“Something,” He hesitated at first but as he looked at me, waiting for an answer. He decided to spill the beans. “Something happened here when I was young.” He answered shortly, seemingly hiding something.

“Something like what?” I asked. I inched closer to him but as I did, I heard the lower back part of my dress rip a little. “Oh fuck.” I whispered and he laughed. I didn’t even know he could laugh so genuinely.

“That’s what happens if you eat too much. Turn around; I’ll unzip it for you.” His last statement caught me off guard but then I realized he doesn’t have bad intentions. I turned my back to him and he unhooked the top part. I held the part that covered my chest area as he unzipped the back open.

I turned to face him and inhaled. “Oh, this is so much better. Thank you.” I said and he gave me a don’t mention it look as he removed his suit and laid it on the far side of the bed. “So why isn’t this a hotel again?” I asked, returning to the topic that would lead me to the answers that I seek.

He looked behind him, seemingly checking if someone was listening. “When I was young, my parents celebrated my birthdays by inviting all the guests that had checked in to a huge dinner party. It was the night of my fifth birthday when my grandmother saw me with a little puncture in the finger.” He said and stopped. And I just had to laugh.

“They closed a hotel because you pricked your finger?” I said. “What more would they do if you stumbled and scraped your knee?” I asked, still laughing at him.

“Hey if you’re not gonna stop laughing, I won’t continue.” He said and I motioned zipping my lips. “Good.” He smiled and messed up my hair. I giggled and playfully slapped his hand. With this he stopped frozen and pulled his hand away like I had some kind of virus. He then looked at me, his hand and then the floor.

I pretended not to notice it so I asked him again. “You really don’t wanna tell me?”

“You won’t even believe.” He spoke dryly. Like how he spoke when we were still on the table.