Preface

Preface

Confessions

The church was quiet and cold; it was made entirely of stone. The saints and angels looked down on me as I prayed and prepared myself for the ordeal I was about to go through. I needed this to work.

I noticed my reflection in a window. Did I really look that bad? My long black hair had natural red-highlights. A tight-fighting blue shirt showed off my curves. My nails were long, and painted the same blue. The only unappealing part of me was my eyelids. They had heavy bags under them, but that was to be expected; I’d not slept that night.

There was one priest in the confessionals. I could see his feet sticking out from beneath the curtain. Relax, I told myself. It’s just a one, little, bitty confession. God’s not going to strike you down from heaven because you desecrated a holy place with your presence. I took a deep breath, and entered.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” I was determined to do this right. I just hoped the dope wouldn’t pry too much.

He was just a pattern of shadow and light through the grill. He’d been lounging, but sat more upright after he’d heard my voice. I hated how easily I attracted the opposite sex.

“Well, welcome.” His voice was warm. I caught a whiff of his cologne. Slightly overpowered, I forced myself to ignore it. “About how long would you say it’s been since you’re last confession?”

I cringed. “I don’t want to say. More than a month?”

He just barely smiled. “That’s not very precise.”

“It works.”

“True,” he laughed.

There was an awkward silence. I broke it first. “So, am I allowed to ask a question?”

“Absolutely.”

“How exactly does this work? I tell all my bad stuff, and then you just what, forgive me? It’s

gone?”

He sighed. “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. What we believe is that confession

is God’s love, his forgiveness, active in our lives. He loves us, and there is no sin he won’t forgive.”

“No sin?”

“No sin.”

“So, kind of like, there’s no job so dirty he can’t clean it up?”

“Something like that.”

Another awkward silence followed. I noticed his cologne again. It intrigued me. I knelt there a minute, enjoying it in spite of myself. I wanted to see his face, to lose myself in that wonderful smell. No, I thought, not here.

He beckoned me to continue. “So?”

“Oh, right. Well, I wonder sometimes if I can be saved.”

His tone grew more serious; up to now, he’d been very carefree.

“We can all be saved, daughter.”

“But, I’ve done so much wrong. Why would God still be interested in me after all this time?”

“He’s always interested in us.”

“I want to believe you, Father, I do. But it’s just so hard to accept. I want to know I’m not a bad person just because I’m a,” I stopped myself in mid-sentence.

“A what?” he asked.

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.” He said

“No, Father, it’s too much.” I said, a whine creeping into my voice.

“What is this great sin that makes you despair?”

He was prying. I got annoyed, now. Here goes, I thought. “I’ve killed someone. Three people, actually.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, he asked “How long ago was this?”

Be honest, I thought. “Over the past few weeks.”

He inhaled sharply. “Are the police looking for you?”

“No.” it was the honest truth. I was too good at what I did to leave traces. “Can God still

forgive me?” I added.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. But, you need to be genuinely sorry.”

“Oh, I am sorry, Father.” I was so much more than sorry. I could still hear their voices, their screams. If I closed my eyes, I could see their fear. No, I could smell it, just like I could smell that blasted cologne.

“Murder is a great sin.” The priest interrupted my thoughts. “Why did you kill them?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, Father, it’s me.”

“I can’t grant you absolution unless you tell me.”

Something in my stomach flipped. My mouth started to water.

“I was thirsty. I was thirsty, and they smelled good.”

“What?” He was understandably stunned. “Could you say that again?”

And then I lost it. As much as I’d tried to hold myself back, I had to have that smell. I threw my fist through the confessional screen, and looked him in the eyes. I saw myself reflected there; a monster, with eyes gleaming dull black, and a pale, pale face. A face as pale as death.

“Forgive me, Father, I know not what I do.” I whispered. I could hear his heart beat quickly in his chest, and his breath come heavy. I sunk my teeth into his neck. The blood came gushing into my mouth, between my teeth, over my tongue, and down my throat. It was everywhere, and it was wonderful.

God, I hate being a vampire.