Young Writers Society

When I opened my eyes, I just lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling I was having in that moment. I felt fresh and new. I felt powerful, like I had enough energy to take on armies of men and still be able to dance all night in celebration afterwards. The idea of slaughtering thousands of men brought a smile to my face. I felt a desire for violence and destruction. I felt like I had become violent. I sat up. I was no longer in pain or weak or tired. I felt rejuvenated, reinvented, and I liked it. I knew now that I was powerful, I was dangerous and I was free. I met a fellow vampire once in Paris, who told me that becoming a vampire was one of the most powerful experiences in our lives, like being reborn stronger and less vulnerable than before. Looking back now, that’s exactly what it was like. I had been reborn, except I got to skip the weak part of being a child. I was powerful and free.

I slipped elegantly off of my bed and, as my feet brushed the dark wood floor, I realised that it felt different from before. Now, it was humming, like I could feel the earth beneath my feet. Outside I could hear the birds singing, telling me that it was either early morning or late evening. Somewhere within the mansion, there was the murmur of chatter that told me that Lucas had guests. In the streets beyond what used to be my prison, I could hear the heartbeats of passers by and the sound of their bodies. I licked my lips with anticipation. I had a sudden thirst, a desire to drain the blood from an innocent being and feel their life fade in my arms. I could still smell blood in the air from when Lucas had slashed his wrists open for me to drink from. Though the room had the same amount of light in it as there had always been, everything seemed much brighter now. The shapes in my room were clearer, more defined and easier to make out. I could see everything as if it were under a spotlight. All my senses had been heightened and they made me highly aware of my surroundings.

I turned towards my door, which had been left wide open. Slowly I moved out of the room into the corridors beyond. My eyes wouldn’t stop moving, desperately taking in everything about my new surroundings. This was the first time that I’d gotten a proper look at what lay beyond my room. There were deep red sashes and curtains hanging on the walls everywhere, covering windows, framing pictures. I stopped to admire a few of the most beautiful paintings – they were all commissioned works from high class, well respected painters from the past century. The hallways were dark but that wasn’t a problem for me anymore. As I got closer, I heard voices at the end of the corridor, the murmurs now clear to my ears from a much greater distance – it sounded like they were arguing. I didn’t go into the room right away, deciding to wait outside and listen to what the group was talking about.

“You broke the law, Lucas,” a woman shouted, her voice shrill with anger and fear.

“I don’t care,” Lucas replied calmly.

“But…”

“I am one of the oldest, most powerful vampires alive. I can do whatever I want and no one, not even the vampires’ council, would ever dare to stop me.” Anger spiked in his voice before fading to confidence. “Now I suggest you leave before I get really angry.”

There was a moment of silence in which I assumed the woman was weighing up her options.

“Fine,” she replied finally. “But I promise that you will live to regret not taking my advice.”

“Is that a threat?” Lucas asked playfully.

“No,” she said. “It’s a warning. This will be the cause of your destruction.”

The door flew open beside me as the lady Lucas had been talking to stormed out. She caught a glimpse of me in the corner of her eye and spun round to look at me properly. Her thin, pale features set in a scowl as she glowered down at me. Her lips were painted red to match her fiery hair, which was pinned to her head so expertly that not even a single strand was out of place. She was dressed like a noble woman, in expensive fabrics and intricate jewellery and her dark green dress made her hair look like a forest fire.

This woman was looking at me like she was trying to start a war, challenging me to react so the animal I had become gave in to the temptation she was drawing out of me. I bared my teeth for a moment before clamping my lips together in a ferocious smile, gazing up at her from beneath my brow line. Her scowl deepened. Then she looked past me into the room she had just come from and her power left her body as if it had been swept away by the wind. I watched her leave and, as soon as she had disappeared, I span into the room beside me.

“Eavesdropping is very rude,” Lucas said without even looking over his shoulder to confirm that it was me who had entered the room.

“Sorry,” I said, slipping into a beautiful red, high backed armchair.

He watched me as I sorted out the folds in my skirt, pride lighting his eyes.

“Are you adjusting well to the change?” he asked, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“I feel as if my whole body is on fire,” I told him, grinning with my new found ferocity. “But…” I looked straight into his eyes, knowing that my eyes were turning the same shade of red as I had seen his go so many times before. “I’m hungry.”

“Well you will be,” Lucas explained, chuckling. “After the change you need a good meal inside you. So what would you like to eat my dear?”

“Can I have anything I want?” I asked, bouncing in my seat.

“The sun’s just set. We have all night.”

My grin widened as I bared my teeth and narrowed my eyes. “Then I know exactly what I want.”

I slipped out of the carriage and skipped up to the iron gates, turning on my heels and calling back to Lucas, who was just exiting the carriage at a more leisurely pace than me. My patience was dwindling as the pit in my stomach grew and the smell of blood drew nearer. I howled for him to move faster. He simply chuckled and continued at his own speed. I couldn’t wait, the excitement building inside me. I pushed the gates lightly and they swung open as if they’d been hit by an almighty gust of wind. Waltzing joyfully up the path, I closed the gap between me and my old prison. The sand coloured structure stood proudly in front of me, waiting for me to rip it down brick by brick.

I lifted my hand and firmly gripped the fancy rope in front of me, pulling it down and listening to the sound of the bell resonate through the house. Then I waited, counting the seconds and the footsteps. The handle turned and the large doors swung open. I was prepared, ready to pounce on whoever answered the door, desperate to rip out someone’s throat. I was about to launch my attack when I saw those beautiful blue eyes and I stopped.

“Miss Stratt,” Roger gasped. “They said you weren’t coming back.”

Taken aback, I didn’t move, just stared down in wonder at the one good thing in my previous life. Was he always such a pretty young boy?

“Miss Stratt?”

I reached out my hand and cupped the young boy’s face, smiling at him gently. “Roger, my darling,” I breathed. His name sounded so natural rolling off my tongue.

“I’ve missed you, Miss Stratt,” he said gleefully.

“And I you.”

“I take it you’ll be wanting to keep this one,” Lucas said from behind me, waking me from the slumber like state I had ended up in.

I turned to him. “Can I?” I asked, my eyes lighting up with joy.

He smiled at me and nodded. I turned back to the young boy in my hands.

“Roger, darling,” I whispered urgently. “I want you to go with my friend.” I waved the slim man who had been looking after me over to where I was now crouching. He complied. “He will take you to our carriage.” He took the young boy’s hand and began to lead him away. Every now and then, Roger looked back over his shoulder, uncertainty in his eyes. I smiled at him over and over again, trying to reassure him with my eyes.

Then I turned back to the house and slowly rose, staring into the bright hallway of the building that I used to call home. I stepped over the threshold and turned back to Lucas, a ferocious smile lifting the corners of my lips. He returned my smile and moved towards the door.

“Roger,” my mother called from one of the rooms off of the hall. “Who is it?”

I turned to see her come through the door and our eyes met for the first time in weeks. She screamed, drawing my father into the room, and they both looked at me like I was a ghost. I suppose I was. The fear in their eyes invigorated me and my stomach churned with a hunger that could only be fixed with their blood. I moved further into the room, gliding across the floor.

“Mother, father,” I said joyfully. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Stay back, you monster,” my father howled at me.

“Monster?” I said, stopping and pretending that something had struck me through the heart. “Father. You can’t really think that.”

He backed away, tripping over his own feet and tumbling backwards. Even then, he still continued to move backwards, away from me. I giggled, which slowly turned to cackling, and swept further and further into the house. Like ants, they scurried away from me, fear controlling their movements. It all served to fan the fire that was blazing inside of me. I wanted them to be afraid, to run, to scream.

Behind me, the doors creaked shut as Lucas trapped my pray for me, letting me take my time. My mother hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room. She had been frozen to the spot. Slowly, I moved towards her, holding my hand out in front of me and gently caressing her cheek when I reached her. Then I smiled at her gently and made a hushing sound. A tiny whimper escaped her lips.

“I won’t hurt you, mother,” I said soothingly. “Not yet.”

The fear in her eyes deepened and I grabbed her arm, tossing her towards Lucas.

“Hold her,” I instructed. “You were always good at watching.”

He held her arms tightly, restraining her perfectly. I turned my attention to my father. He yelled, scrambling to his feet clumsily, and ran from the room. It was a pathetic attempt at escape. If I had still been the same young girl that he had swapped for his skin a few weeks or months or however long it had been earlier, then he might’ve stood a chance running from me, but I wasn’t. I was something very different now. I followed him, only moving my legs in a walking motion, but my smooth, graceful way of moving meant that I covered the distance at a much greater speed. He never stood a chance.

He crashed into a window at the other end of the room and fumbled with the latch. That was his downfall. The short pause allowed for me to need only to pick up my pace slightly to catch him. Grabbing the collar of his shirt just as he got the window open, I yanked him back and let him fall to the ground. Then I took hold of his arm and wrenched it back. From the howl of agony that he let out and the crunching sound his bones made, I guessed that I had probably broken his arm or dislocated his shoulder. The sound that would’ve previously disgusted me now thrilled me. I took joy from it. He continued to scream as I dragged him back into the entrance hall. He kicked and squirmed and tried to free himself but nothing worker.

As we re-entered the room, I made note of the look on my mother’s face. She was horrified. Her beloved husband was in agony at the hand of her monstrous daughter. It was perfect. I flung him round like a rag doll and as I did so his body bent in unnatural ways. Pushing his torso forward so that he was sat upright, I slowly sank to the ground behind him and leant in close to his ear.

“Good night, father,” I whispered. Then I sank my teeth into the flesh of his neck, relishing the feeling of his warm blood flowing into my mouth. I gulped it down eagerly – now that I could taste that which I had desired so greatly my hunger had intensified to a point where, even if I had wanted to stop, I couldn’t. As the blood flowed from his veins, his resistance grew weaker. I felt blood escape my lips, trickling down his neck, staining his clothes. I felt the warm liquid on my face and hands and, slowly, it made its way down my own neck and left tiny droplets on my dress. The life began to drain from him and I felt his body become limp in my arms.

I’m not sure how to describe the feeling of someone’s life ending by your hand. I felt his pulse stop through his blood as his heart beat for the last time. I felt his chest fall as he let out his last breath. I took the dead weight of his body as he became no longer able to hold himself up. I felt the power he’d had over me transfer to me and I loved every second of it. It was like a drug but one that didn’t just make me feel powerful rather actually made me powerful.

I pulled away, licking my lips as I let the corpse fall to the ground. Then there was an ear-piercing scream from my mother. She howled in despair and tried to free herself from her restraints.

“Let her go,” I said quietly, standing up and backing away from what used to be father.

Lucas complied and as soon as she was free she hurled herself across the room and fell to his side. Wailing uncontrollably, she slipped an arm under his neck and pulled him up, staring helplessly into his dead eyes. Lucas watched me, waiting for what I wanted to do next. I couldn’t help but feel a little spoilt. I moved across the room, gliding to his side and leaning against him, getting blood on his shirt. I shouldn’t feel so relaxed with him seeing as he killed me, but I felt a peculiar bond with him, like he was my real father.

“Perhaps you should go take care of the maids before they scurry out of this place,” I said, my voice high in pitch and quiet, like a timid child’s.

He smiled down at me like a parent admiring their adorable offspring. Then he stroked my hair lovingly and left the room, his cloak sweeping the floor behind him. He swept through the doors out of sight. Then I waited, holding my breath and listening to the heartbeats in the house. The first scream came quickly, ringing out in the silent mansion. After that, a symphony of terrified howls and bangs filled the air, accompanied by pleas for help and mercy. Somewhere amongst them was Roger’s mother.

I turned to my own mother, who simply looked at me with hatred.

“Monster,” she hissed shakily.

“Me?” I replied in deep, sinister tones. “I’m the monster?”

“You killed him,” she shrieked.

“And the two of you,” I reminded her silkily, smiling at her pridefully, “killed me.”

She recoiled from my accusation. Circling her, I licked my lips. She was shaking, her whole body shuddering in an unnatural way. Slowly, she relinquished her grip on the dead body of my father, letting him slip to the ground. Still shaking, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

As soon as her words struck me, I leapt forward. Something in me snapped and unleashed the full ferocity of the beast that now occupied this vessel alongside me. I sank my hand into her back, reaching deep inside until I felt the pulsing flesh of her heart. She gasped, her breaths watery and desperate. Then, I ripped my hand back and she fell to the floor.