The Sweetest Kill: A Young Adult Paranormal (7 page)

While entering my apartment, I felt drained from the whole experience. It took a lot of energy out of me, just being in that house, let alone conversing. Mom was better, more civil during the rest of the meal and the clean up after. I could tell she wanted to say more, but she refrained for my sake. I’m as thankful for it, as I am annoyed by it. Sometimes, I wish she’d just get it all off her chest, so we could call it a day.

The apartment is dark, other than the muted light from the world outside of my window. With a sigh of relief to be back in my sanctuary, I pull off my jacket and sneakers. I’m about to remove my hat, when I hear Florence hissing from my bed. From her silhouette, I can see that her back is arched and her grey fur is on edge. She’s looking at something over by the desk and I turn my attention there, just in time for the only lamp in my possession to light up.

There’s a man in my apartment. He’s sitting in my desk chair casually, as he gazes back at me impassively. His dark hair falls across his forehead to brush the straight shape of his eyebrows. His eyes, a haunting hell fire red, stare me down. And despite the missing blood stains on his face, I know exactly who he is.

He’s the vampire from the other night, and he’s in my apartment.

Transaction

I don’t know what to do, so I just stay still. I never thought I would see him again, let alone in my one, safe place. The longer I look at him, the more bemused he seems to become. I keep my eyes on him as I step back towards my bed and sink down to sit on the edge.

Florence is still in attack mode beside me, but I refuse to take my eyes off him to soothe her. I don’t want to be caught unprepared though. I don’t know what I can do if he does attack. I can’t run for it, he’d probably catch me. I couldn’t jump out my window, I’d just hit the fire escape. So what are my options? Easy. I don’t have any, so here I sit, patiently waiting for him to make his move.

He raises an eyebrow at what I’m assuming to be surprise, since I’m not screaming bloody murder, before standing up abruptly from the chair. He says nothing as he drags my chair beside my desk, until it’s only a foot away from where I am. He places it before me with a thump, and I jump, making his lip twitch up a little. He sits down on it in a way that I think it’s supposed to be sullen. But instead, it just looks as graceful as every other move he’s made so far.

Still, no one has spoken. He continues to patiently stare at me, as I anxiously do the same. It’s disturbingly exposing to be looked at like that, and I begin to squirm a little under his gaze. Eventually, I can’t do it anymore and drop my gaze to my lap. I realize as soon as I do it, that it was a test. He was most likely waiting for me to break first and I did.

God, I’m really bad at this confrontation thing.

“Well, little mouse,” He says with a slight accent in his voice, “You baited the cat, what now?”

His voice gives me the bad kind of chills. It’s fairly deep and with a slight accent that I can’t place. He sounds like some James Bond villain. As he talks, I see his fangs, twin white daggers flash in the lamp’s limited light. I’m surprised by my lack of fear, instead, I feel an overwhelming curiosity. I wonder absently if his fangs would hurt as badly as they look they would. Remembering the woman in the alley’s expression, I assume that there’s a good possibility that they do.

Realizing he’s waiting for a response, I clear my throat, “I didn’t…“

He swiftly cuts me off as he lazily meets my gaze, “Come now. Let us not play coy here. You saw me kill the woman and yet you didn’t run. You practically offered yourself to me. So don’t tell me you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“So it’s true.” I state quietly, “You’re a vampire.”

He regards me impassively, “Yes.”

My mind is reeling. I knew it the minute I saw him bloodstained in that alley, but it just seemed too impossible to believe. A vampire. A real live vampire, in my apartment, having a conversation with me, like it’s an everyday occurrence. I can’t really wrap my mind around it. I don’t get much of a chance to either, since he speaks up and takes me out of my thoughts.

“Does it bother you?”

“Does it matter if it bothers me?”

He smirks, “Not really, no.”

“Then why ask?” I ask him quietly.

He shrugs, “Trying to be polite, I suppose. Despite what you may think of me, darling, I’m not some brute. I do have civility left, no matter how much I enjoy ripping out pretty young women’s throats and devouring their blood.”

I cover my horrified shiver by pretending to be offended, “I wasn’t thinking that.”

He lifts a hand and I flinch. He notices and raises one black eyebrow but says nothing as he runs the hand through his dark hair. He lets out a sigh and stretches out his long legs, covered in dark denim, before him. He sits back in the chair comfortably and puts his hands behind his head.

I watch him cautiously as he does all of this, watching for any sudden movements, just in case. He eventually meets my gaze with a patient one of his own. I realize then that he’s waiting for me to continue explaining myself.

I clear my throat again as I try to think of some explanation that doesn’t sound insane, but I can’t find one. I can’t think of an eloquent way to explain why I stalked him. Why I just watched him kill someone, and then offered my life to him without hesitation. I’d rather just avoid this whole situation, but I can’t. He’s here and I don’t think he’ll leave until I come up with something.

“I… I went looking for you.” I begin quietly.

He gives me a mocking look. “Yes, I figured that much out on my own. What I want to know, is why? You don’t seem like a thrill seeker and it’s clear you know what I am. So tell me what you want, so I can figure out what to do with you.”

I feel like I’m back at my childhood home, in my Dad’s office, waiting for punishment for some prank I pulled. I frown and stare at my pale, limp hands in my lap, and again try to think of something to say that isn’t insane. Of course, the reason itself is insane but it doesn’t stop me from still wanting it. Maybe it won’t hurt as much as I think it will.

Lifting my gaze, I look him in the eye and take a deep breath.

“I wanted you to kill me.”

My voice almost echoes in the silence of my apartment. Even Florence is quiet as she sits beside me, her tail tickling the fabric of my sleeve. I watch as his red eyes move all over my face, as he begins to frown. I sit there, watching him watch me shaking with nerves. The longer we sit in silence, the more anxious I get. I don’t know what he’ll do and that in itself makes me nervous, because the list of possibilities is endless.

“You said ‘wanted’, do you not want that anymore?”

I frown at the question but answer, “I don’t know.”

“Why do I have to kill you?” he asks in a bored tone. “Can’t you just do it yourself?”

“No.” I whisper feeling my cheeks heat up, “I can’t. I made a promise that I wouldn’t.”

“So you thought ‘hey, I’ll just get a vampire to do it’?” he asks in a patronizing tone, “You’re not mentally sound, are you?”

I almost laugh but refrain, “Many people would say that I’m not, no.”

He sighs before glancing at me, “What’s in it for me?”

“I don’t get what you mean.”

He rolls his red eyes, a very human gesture, before looking at me dryly, “You get to die and escape from whatever fucked up life you think you have, but what do I get? Other than another mess to clean up.”

I duck my head, looking at my hands again as I try to think of a way of convincing him, “It’s a win-win situation for both of us. You get what you need and I… I get release. It’s not like you’ll muck it up.”

He stares at me for a long moment, before sighing. “And here I thought I was here for an easy meal.”

I frown, again. “This is easy. I’m offering myself on a silver platter.”

“Not exactly the best proposition I’ve had, especially considering that you know what I am.” He drawls before eyeing me dubiously, “Speaking of which, doesn’t that scare you?”

I shake my head hesitantly.

“Not at all?” He presses.

“I just told you I wanted you to kill me,” I inform him quietly, “I think it’d be silly for me to be scared of you. You killing me would be the worst thing you could do to me.”

“I could make you like me. Live forever.”

I feel my heart clench at the thought, “I don’t think you would.”

“Why not?” He asks with a shrug, “Maybe I’m lonely.”

“Then you wouldn’t pick me to live eternally with.”

Both of his eyebrow raise in surprise, I think, “I could rip you to pieces, make this as painful as possible for you. Does that appeal to you as much?”

I shake my head, feeling my hands start to shake uncontrollably in my lap.

“Weren’t expecting that were you?” He asks mockingly.

“I-I-I expected you to rip me to pieces,” I stutter out in a whisper, “I was just hoping you wouldn’t.”

He studies me for a few minutes before speaking again, “Don’t you have a family?

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” I ask in complete disbelief.

“Just answer the question.”

“Yes but it’s what’s best for them too.” I mumble, feeling tears prick my eyes. “I’ve been pulling them on a string for too long.”

He narrows his eyes. “Once you’re dead, you’re dead, you know that right?”

I nod slowly and whisper. “I know.”

“And you still want me to kill you?”

I think about my life as it is. The misery, the self-hate, the constant panic, and the worry I make others feel for me all the time. It’s not right and I know that I don’t want to live like this anymore. Who would? I decide that I’ve suffered long enough, and if this creature is willing to do this for me, then so be it. I’m happy to let him take my life, so that I and everyone I know, can be free.

“Yes,” I tell him in a surprisingly strong voice. “I do.”

He frowns at me in bewilderment before suddenly scoffing and looking out my window. I pull my knees up against my chest and try to imagine what he could be thinking right now. Is he considering it or is he trying to think of a way to bow out gracefully? I wouldn’t blame him if he was considering the latter. Any sane person or in this case, mythical creature, would do the same.

Suddenly, ice-cold hands, so big, that the palm covers my whole cheekbone, covers my face. I jump, but the hold on my face only tightens. I look up in shock and wide-eyed into his unsettling red eyes. Is he actually going to do this for me? I feel tears fill my eyes as I silently beg him to just get it over with. I want this, I want this so badly it hurts. I feel waves of relief knowing that it’s actually going to happen.

He seems to misread my tears though since he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Is it going to hurt?” I ask.

He purses his lips a little but answers, “At first, yes, but not for long.”

“Okay.” I whisper softly and close my eyes, “Then I’m ready.”

I flinch back when I feel a light pressure on my lips. My eyes open and I see him pulling back to meet my panicked gaze with reassurance. His touch is just as unsettling as anyone else, but I decide to allow it. This is a means to an end, and as long as he doesn’t take it too far, I’ll be able to keep it together.

With fascination, I watch as he licks the residue from my tears off his lips, before silently giving me a warning with his eyes. I don’t understand what he’s warning me of, until he angles his head down to my neck. He lays a small peck on my neck, making me jump again, but his hands on me only tighten. Then without parable, he strikes.

His sharp teeth break into the flesh of my neck, and I gasp at the pain. It ironically reminds me of the bite of a razor blade at first. When he slides them deeper into my neck, the pain is sharper and overwhelming. I open my mouth to cry out, but he covers my mouth with one of his hands. Tears stream down my face as he slides his fangs into my neck, down to the gum. Then something else happens…

Warmth moves through my body, starting at my neck, traveling through my veins to the rest of my body. He hasn’t move an inch but as I relax against him, he pulls his hand away from my mouth. My head slumps forward, onto his shoulder, as he cradles me in his arms. Then, I feel the sensation of sucking… no pulling. It’s like he’s pulling at the flesh, trying to draw out as much of my blood as he can. In my ear, I can faintly hear his groan but it’s hard to make out over the buzzing in my ears.

Spots began to dance across my vision, as he keeps pulling blood from my body. I‘m practically laying on him as my blood loss starts to take its toll. It’s almost peaceful going out this way, like drowning. There is no pain and no worry. Everything feels so distant and all that’s left is the sensation of floating.

Eventually, my eyes begin to slowly close and unconsciousness begins to take hold. I realize, this is what I wanted, not the horror back in that alleyway. Not the isolated misery of doing it myself. No, I wanted this, on my own terms but not alone in my final moments. This is what I’ve been longing for. And now that it’s here, I can close my eyes and drift off into the abyss without hesitation.

There is another place for me, a better place and this isn’t it.

Not anymore.

*   *   *

The jarring noise of my alarm, brings me into a very alert consciousness. I sit up straight in my bed and realize I’m still alive. With that realization, I’m gripped with a despair so powerful it nearly choke me. A sob escapes my mouth and tears spring up in my eyes. My eye sight is blurry, as I take in the depressing atmosphere of my apartment. I cover my mouth as more sobs escape.

I can’t decide if it was a dream, psychosis, or simple wishful thinking. Maybe it’s a combination of all three put together by my mind to torture me further. I’ve often thought that God, if he existed, hated me. He had to, to make me so mentally fucked, that I would come up with something as elaborate as last night’s events. Looking down at my still dressed body, the evidence is mounting for that conclusion.

Curling into a ball, I began to sob into my hands, as I realize the truth of this life… there is no easy way out. I tried to do it the easy way so many times, and yet, I always wake up with no real reason as to why. Why would someone like Charlotte, an innocent little girl, die when she wasn’t ready, while I am forced to linger? Is it some cruel joke? Does it even matter anymore?