Young Writers Society

Okay, so this is a short story to quiet the vampire within me. She's mad because We are the Flame sucks...so here's my attempt. Note to Reader: This is just how I want vampires to be made, it's my veiw on them. And I realize that when you read a lot of vampire books you develop a strick mindset as to what vampirism is like...BUT I would really appreciate it if you did not come to me and say, "That's not how it goes, ... this author say's so." Like I said, it's my thought, don't compare me to other vampire writer. Also, I have never read Anne Rice, or Dracula, or any other but vampire auther-y things. I don't want my perspection disfigured. Thanks. But I just got yelled at one of my friends for not understanding how vampires work. I would hate a repeat of that.

Enjoy! lol.

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A Slight of Perception

Fangs dug into the space between my shoulder and neck earning a scream from me. A sharp pain shot down my body from the force of it. I felt trails of blood weaving their way down my body as I writhed in panic. The vampire continued, sucking blood and tearing at the flesh of my shoulder to bring the blood faster.

A cold numbness came to me, and a second later I knew why. I

felt something- some kind of liquid- come out of the monsters mouth and

enter me. It made it’s way through my bloodstream, trailing fire everywhere

it went. Or that’s how it felt.

I screamed again, panicking and scratching at the ground to get

away, but the vampire’s grip never yielded. Neither the cold or the numbing

did much to take away the feeling of fire bleeding into me. More stuff came

from the vampire’s mouth; knowing what would come from it I fought

harder.

Finally the vampire took his mouth away from my neck, blood

coated the lower half of his face and the pupils of his eyes were lost in pale

blue. Two serene orbs watched my eyes, the power of them pressing down

on me in such a real way I should have been scared.

I was cold, numb, on fire, bloody, and lost in the eyes of the

predator.

Though I wasn’t afraid of him; and that’s what scared me.

He stood up with me in his arms. My legs draped across one

arm, while my upper half rested against his shoulder. I dripped blood on

his white lace shirt.

The screaming had subsided with the calmness. He kept my

gaze as he walked further down the alley. We reached the door of a local

club known for vampires, and walked in.

The vampire boldly walked through the dancing people, none of

them even looked at us. It took me a second to realize that he had used

glamour to make me and my blood invisible.

Somewhere between the pulsing beats of the dance floor and a

bright white hallway I passed out.

***

I came to screaming. I was surrounded by darkness so

thorough that I could have poked myself in the eye and still not see my

finger.

The pain was back, without the cold or the numb it was like

thousands of iron-hot ants marching through my bloodstream. I writhed as

they circulated, marching on through me without a care.

The lid to whatever I was in opened, and light poured into the

coffin. I looked down at my arms, angry blue lines wove down my arm, I

soon recognized them as my veins. I watched as they grew darker, going

from blue, to purple, to maroon. A woman I didn’t know stuck something in

one of the dark lines, turned and said something to somebody. I was

screaming so loud I didn’t hear it or the reply.

I was dizzy again, and really tired. The lid closed and I was

asleep again.

It went on like this for what seemed like an eternity. I would

wake to the fire, look down and see the lines of blood as they began to

fade. The darkness lightened until I could almost clearly see my hands. I

was asleep less often, and the pain was lessening.

Finally my heart stopped beating. That night the lid to the coffin

crashed to the floor.

“Sylvie,” The woman I had known to put me to sleep

said, “Welcome to the new world.”

She extended one arm outward, to a room I never had a chance

to look at during my fire sleep.

I sat up and looked around. It was a normal room, white walls,

no furniture, except for the coffin I was in.

“Spiffy,” I said.

“Excuse me?” The woman asked.

“Nothing.” I shook out my arms and stretched my legs.

“I’m ready to go back to sleep,” I said, lying back down and

getting comfortable.

“Oh no,” the woman laughed, “You’re done sleeping, the

transformation is complete.”

I sat back up and looked around the room. Then I looked at

the woman.

Her skin was pale to the verge of translucent. From the right

angle I could see thin blue lines trailing over her. She was dressed in all

black. Thigh high killer spike boots that laced up, and a black silk button

up shirt. All of the black offset her skin and white-blond hair. Her eyes were

a clear lake blue. She was inhumanly beautiful. She was a vampire.

“Wha-what transformation?” I asked cautiously, unsure of

whether or not I wanted the answer. My heart was beating, and for some

reason, that felt very, very wrong.

“You’re a vampire now. I’m Lyssa, buy the way.”

I froze, looked down at my hands, the skin was lighter that it

had been before. I should have been able to see blue veins, but all I saw

were the tendons as my fingers moved.

I realize I hadn’t been breathing, but I didn’t feel short of

breath either.

“No,” I said quietly. “How could this have happened?”

With a jolt I remembered.

It was my best friends twenty-fifth birthday, we had gone to a

club to celebrate. A vampire club. We were all on the dance floor, a few of

us had found partners, but I was busy dancing to eyes across the room.

He was handsome, tall, shoulder length wavy black hair and

astonishingly pale blue eyes. I kept making contact with him as I wove and

swayed.

The memory skipped to us walking away from the building. His

arm was around me and I was laughing up a storm. I think I was drunk.

He stopped at an alley and looked down in, “I want to show you

something,” he said.

I laughed more and followed him.

“Sylvie,” the Lyssa said. She was shaking me lightly by the

shoulders. I realized I was lying down again. When did that happen?

“Where is he?” I growled.

“Where is who?”

“The jackass who did this, that’s who. I want to talk to him,

now!” I tried sitting up, but Lyssa’s hands on my shoulders stopped me.

“No,” she said, “You must remain calm. Trust me.”

“I want him ripped apart for this!” I continued to struggle

against her grip.

“If you keep this act up it will be you in his place.” Lyssa

seemed like there was no struggle in holding me down. I stopped thrashing

and stared up at her.

“Why?” I asked.

“Do you mean, why did he do that?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”[/i]