Created (Book 1 of the Created) (12 page)

"At least they are trying hard," I laughingly
mumbled.

Moving to the chest of drawers, I found socks bound and
sorted by color and boxer briefs folded and pressed. Each pair was stacked neatly
with the labels facing in the same direction.

Satisfied with at least part of my new lot in the world, I
proceeded to the living room to find the packet Walter and Veronica had spoken
about earlier in the day.

The living room consisted of a moderately worn, though
useable, floral print couch with wooded accents, green leather chair, two dark
bronze lamps sporting multicolored glass shades, and two dark walnut tables all
coated with inches of dust.

"I know where the priorities were in the planning or my
arrival," I quipped as I wiped two inches of dust from the back of the
chair.

Taking a seat in the green chair, I grabbed a white plastic
wrapped binder labeled orientation from the table nearest the chair. Ripping
into the covering, I tore the binder from the protective sheath easily. Placing
the binder upon my lap, I thumbed through the pages without reading any
particular item. Scrolling back to the beginning of the information, I decided
to begin what I hoped was a definitive guide about how to be a vampire, the
abridged version.

The guide wasn't voluminous in any means. The document read
like an owner’s manual and wasn't more than thirty pages in length. A large
percentage of the content had already been explained or I had witnessed firsthand.

Skimming through the content, there was new information
which made me want to explode with anger and some that was fantastical which
made me smile.

The reading passed swiftly.

Arriving at the last page, I found a hand written scribble
across the typeface from Darby, "Don't believe it all. There is so much
more to our world than the humans will ever know."

Studying the words from Darby, I knew I would find this out
whether I wanted to or not and sooner than I would ever be ready.

Finishing the information in the binder, I felt better armed
to survive a few more hours. I needed to read the cover information for my
placement at a local high school, but the hour was early and there was a lot
running through my mind.

Time crawled and what I dreamed was an hour was actually a
matter of minutes. Then ten more joined the crawl.

Soon, a thirst was building inside of me. This thirst was
different than the other one. The one before I was a vampire.

I could detect the blood in the fridge as my hunger grew.
The thought of consuming the blood was revolting, yet I knew I had to have it
to survive.

I blinked.

Looking around, I found myself standing before the open
fridge staring at the containers of blood. I couldn't remember how I had gotten
to the kitchen or how I had opened the fridge. Glancing at the clock on the
wall in the hallway, I realized said two hours had surpassed.

The field guide had stated that vampires, until gaining
control over the desire for blood, could experience lapses in time. It was
disturbing to know that my body was no longer my own. Shutting the door, I
sighed before making my way back to the chair.

The binder was shredded.

Undoubtedly rage was another issue.

My bout with confusion was interrupted by a loud lonesome
howl. The howl was followed by a chorus of similar calls interspersed with
growls, barks and laughter.
 

The low calls of upset cattle snorting quickly became loud
thunderous bellowing. The bellowing grew louder and louder until it was
rendered into high pitched cries of distress from animals in great pain. The
sounds echoed through the thin walls of my new home.

Against my better judgment, I made my way to the curtain
covering the door to catch a glimpse. Hesitant to sneak a peek at the night's
happenings, I stood behind the flimsy protection of the wooden door listening.

Snarls, snaps and the occasional sounds of quarreling
canines popped about the small town as the sounds echoed off the solid frames
of the old structures.

The cows were now silent.

Drawing back the curtain on the door slightly, I watched
three wolves devour the carcass of a fallen animal. There must have been twenty
in all. Each of the wolves was gorging itself on the large bovines. The
creatures were either tearing at a fallen beast or lazily gnawing on a snatched
away limb. Body parts were scattered about the feeding pen with a few having
been thrown thirty feet outside of the structure. Blood dripped from the
sections of fence and the muzzles of the large wolves. Several lapped at the
entrails and spilled liquid flowing across the concrete.

The feasting continued for a half hour. Bellies distended,
many of the wolves laid down to rest. Others cleaned themselves, savoring the
cleaning of bits and scraps clinging to wet fur.

The feeding was both disgusting and fascinating. Lead by my
own hunger, I too had my fill of the carnage. The ghastly feeding was a
necessity among us. Rationalizing the need to consume the flesh of another
being was status quo to make it through the strange new world which had
accepted me. Returning to the fridge, I was about to open the door when there
was a loud smack at my door.

Darting to the door, I peeled back the curtain again to find
the stripped of flesh fore leg of a cow lying on the floor of the porch guarded
by a black wolf with a long silver of blond.

The animal knew I was there. Outstretched, the wolf panted
and watched me. Blood was thick around the muzzle with a chunk of flesh that
was stuck in between the upper jaw teeth of the jaw.

Finally, the wolf tired of our game of staring. The brash
canine urinated on the gift of desiccated meat before walking around the house
into the night.

Befuddled with what had transpired, the night was swirling
around in my head. The last two nights were in fact dancing inside my noggin. I
decided a drink was needed, and since I had recently learned that I didn't
drink anything for any purpose except blood, then blood would have to suffice.
Alcohol would not quench thirst. Alcohol would not erase the thoughts since my
militarily created metabolism would require gallons just to get a buzz.
Fortunately, there was plenty of blood in the fridge. Blood I would need if I
were to live forever like the pages in the binder implied.

Grabbing a bottle of O negative, I hesitated then popped the
top opening. The smell, the aroma was maddeningly delicious. Frantic compulsion
filled my mind. My body acted without regard to my guidance which was becoming
an occurrence for which I needed to find a remedy.

The directions implied the special designed container would
make the blood taste better if warmed for five to eight seconds.

Throwing the bottle in the device, I pushed six seconds and
waited. The warming blood wafted into my nostrils driving me insane with
desire. Ripping the door open, I grabbed the bottle and poured the liquid into
my mouth.

The sensation of the dark red blood reacting with my taste
buds left me tingling from head to toe. The bottle was empty before I knew I
had consumed the entire contents.

My head felt light. Dizziness followed. Steadying myself
against the countertop, I waited for the feeling to pass. Feeling better took a
while longer than I anticipated, but I recovered enough to know that I had to
read the briefing for tomorrow and get some rest.

Sliding across the room toward the bedroom, I feel a sudden
uncontrollable need to lie down. Like any other teenager with an assignment due
on short notice, I decided I would rise early enough to read through the
paperwork then get ready for my first day of high school. I laughed silently to
myself when my decision sank into the large cycle of thoughts, clogging my
wearisome brain.

A stray macabre thought did stand out as I removed my shirt.
I couldn't help but to burst into convulsive laughter. Something I strangely
reconciled to silliness. I wondered if while at school it would be ok to eat
one of my classmates. I knew, of course, that it would at least be frowned upon
by the school administration.

Sleeping was not an issue for my generation of vampire.

Many on the Farm had to hibernate during the day in an
abandoned building or in a hole somewhere and roam at night. Some were the
Hollywood style vampires that were created to live in coffins emulating
vampires from the golden age of the silver screen which went into a canonic
state while entombed. These were scattered within two zones as were others of
different linage and stock. Many of the other generations, I had learned
through reading, lived together in communal homes either in the red or pink
zone. An entire generation may live together under the command of a single
leader.

The last three generations before me lived according to
self-selected means and not the predetermined movie style nonsense that was
meant to strike fear in the hearts and minds of the enemies of the U.S. These vampires
had adapted to sleeping to recharge while positioned in beds like the humans we
were to resemble. This approach brought us closer to the human aspect of our
former selves thus maintaining a semblance of cover reality.

Sleeping was the word loosely associated with the act of
lying in a bed at night, though a vampire could go for weeks without a proper
rest as long as blood was readily available for consumption. The pages from the
night before had directed that each night I try to maintain regular habits of
sleeping and eating to ensure my sanity. I had to accomplish fooling the humans
to believing I was one of them and irregular habits might cause a break which
could propel me to become vicious and inclined to feed upon weaker creatures. I
knew the phrase weaker creature referred to the human teenagers I would be
around every day. In retrospect, this was sound advice, especially since I was
a newbie to controlling blood lust.

The sleep was unlike sleep, but closer aligned with a waking
coma. In the coma, I was aware of self and dreamed vividly of my days as a
member of the undead, but there was a detachment that made the organic world,
from whence I was a part of, a construct of fantasy and imagination. In a
single word, the coma was relaxing.

The buzzing of an alarm clock, that I did not remember
setting, awoke me from a repeated loop of the previous day’s events. I was
surprised that the dreams would not be prone to drive a vampire insane. A
tortured hell so to speak, but the guide had listed this as item fifty-seven of
one hundred sixty-eight. The imagining of past events was a safe guard to help
maintain vampire identity and to be honest it was only an annoyance rather than
the hell it should have been. Again it was calming.

There was a lot to being a vampire I had yet to understand
and was sure it would be a while before I learned enough to not be a danger to
myself. The thought was redirected when a familiar smell brought me fully from
the last vestiges of my rest. The smell was of limes. The limes were part of a
recent memory. Where did I know that smell was the question fracturing my mind
with possibilities? The question tugged at me. Somewhere in my scattered
thoughts, I finally miraculously placed the origin of that fragrance: Darby?

Eyes wide staring at the ceiling, I could detect there was
another shape in the bed with me. Before I could turn my head to verify her
presence, the form pushed the sheets back and stood, stretching toward the
ceiling a couple of feet beside the bed. Daring to look, I sheepishly inched my
head in her direction.

She was standing with her back to me, her golden blonde hair
loosely hanging down her bare back. Her seminude form was wearing only a pair
of pink boy short cut panties, which accentuated her shapely and surprisingly
muscular body.

I tried to look away especially when I caught her casually
watching me in return. The staring was hard to resist. Darby was delicate, yet
alluring in ways I had never seen in a human.

A small smile spread on her face when embarrassedly I
diverted my eyes. I found myself wanting to look again, but chose to stop when
primal stirrings began within me. I knew those urges would become more
externalized if I did not stop the thoughts of how badly I wanted to feel her
against me. Especially how it would feel to pull her back to the bed and have
her body writhing against mine.

Periodically, I would sneak a small peek that would become a
leer even though it was never my intention. She dressed provocatively,
teasingly at first. Darby slid her ruffled skirt up as deliberately and as
agonizingly
slow
as she could. This was an elaborate
game of seduction, and I appeared to be the prize she was seeking.

I rolled over to face the sliding doors which I now noticed
were slightly ajar allowing in a cool summer breeze.

Whispering to myself, "So that is how she got in."

She tilted her head to gauge my reaction or hear my
mumblings, but maintained the same pacing.

Then sped up to a blur, once she realized we were running
late as broadcast by Veronica's voice echoing from the living room that the bus
would arrive in the next fifteen minutes.

In an instant she was gone.

The sliding glass door was fully shut. Relieved that the
unbelievable situation was over, I flopped over on my back. I was hoping Veronica
would give me a moment to relax and catch my breath, but she didn't.

"We need to talk. Are you dressed?" Veronica
inquired as she knocked.

Not waiting for an answer, the vampire pushed the door open
as if I had invited her into the room.

She stood in the doorway allowing me time to adequately
cover myself.

Veronica was dressed in a reserved manner in a pretty red
and pink dress. Her hair was a lighter brown today, pulled into a pony tail.
She had accomplished the look of average girl next door except she still
maintained a ravishing quality that Darby would never achieve.