Chapter Text
“It’s time for you to return home, not for her but for yourself. You need to nourish, not only blood but warmth – love – happiness. They say family is the most important thing in life and there is truth to it.”
I tightened my grip around the stirring wheel and narrowed my eyes. Not because I needed to focus, my vision and reflexes were unnaturally quick, but because I suddenly felt a hunger. Intuitively I sped up, though it was quite dark on the road.
9:43 pm. I’d driven for 6 and a half hours non-stop already. If I was still a human, I would have taken a break from driving 10 miles ago already. I would have by now ingested the 3rd coffee, the second sandwich, nervously sweating in both a caffeine rush, nervousness, and perhaps tummy ache from the bad tuna. I would have caused a major traffic accident due to my not sturdy way of driving. I wouldn’t have left my house and never went on this trip. If I was still a human; no, if I was still alive, I would be so very afraid of what’s ahead of me, drowning in self-conscious thoughts and anxious paralysis.
It seems like that’s the biggest advantage of being a vampire: The lack of fear and responsibility. Over time everything becomes the same. If you haven’t felt trapped in your human life already, it all just becomes more gray and clouded in your transformed existence. And after a while it all becomes irrelevant, sort of normal - all the cruelty and pain, the sad crying and angry screaming - it just vanishes from your repertoire of feelings. Not only do the negative emotions seem to disappear without a trace but also the positive ones. Compassion, Hope, Love. I know what these words mean, what they’re supposed to express and feel like. But I can’t remember when I’ve last felt either of these. I have felt numb before but the past 5 years it became a constant state of mind.
I moved my head, clenched my jaw, and sat up more straight. Still, about 20 miles until I reached my hometown. Since I was heading down the highway by night and the roads were not very busy, I could easily crash my car into someone else’s, feed off them, and leave before anyone took notice. I’d make a run for it through the woods until I found another victim. Then another. And another.
I sighed.
Even if I’ve already fed off of hundreds, if not thousands of people in my vampire existence, a part of me resists thinking like this. One may call it morality. I’d know a better name: Billie. My sister is the one small spark inside of me that wouldn’t let me become a ruthless blood-sucking monster. Sure, I haven’t talked to her in years. Before my transformation, we’d already grown more and more apart - ever since I’d moved to Los Angeles the contact’s weakened. Yet she’s never left me. Her impact still stays within. After all, she is the reason I’m going back to Port Townsend, a small town I’ve once called home. I sure don’t know what that is anymore.
I growled. It was the hunger that distracted me. Once again a battle of past and present - memories of what I’ve lost and the brutal outcome of my decisions.
I floored the accelerator and looked out for the next best opportunity to hit another driver. The radio switched to the next song: Carnival of the Animals: The Swan. An elegant piece and such a tragically sarcastic choice of music for this kind of situation.
“Leland Lake Campground”, the next sign said. A campground, how convenient.
It was late April, the weather was mixed but mild, and rain wasn’t an uncommon thing in this area, so people wouldn’t mind spending a night outside camping. I would need to act quickly, there would surely be more than just one couple or a small family—
I hit the stirring wheel.
The closer I got to my old home, the more this kind of thought bothered me. It’s like something was screaming inside of me, saying “It’s wrong! Stop it, you’re hurting people! You’re hurting me!” - and I knew that it was the voice of my sister.
I slowed down. Not because I was being cautious but because a wave of doubts and consideration hit me. Why did I expect this to be an easy, furthermore right decision to go back home? Everything would come back. All the struggles, worries, tears, hate, and grief that I’ve once decided to escape would hit me in an instant. Why would I do that to myself? Why would I do that to her?
I never even thought of my parents. Mom’s always been a complicated woman and so was my father. Then again they were complicated in their ways. My mother would never lie to me, or us, she’d tell ugly truths and always see a comfort in them, too. She’d manage things I couldn’t have handled and let her negative feelings out in all the right places - never put anything on us children. I fear she’s had an addiction, though. As far as I can remember she became friends with a dark magic medic and that woman told her a bunch of shit, along with some potions that no one knew the effects or risk of.
My father on the other hand threw his anger around as if he had a massive amount of fury inside of him. He was a man of dissatisfaction and small-mindedness. All that mattered to him was his job, his money, and his reputation. Funny enough, I heard his ambitions in that regard never paid off, instead threw him into prison about 6 years ago.
Another sign, pointing to the left: “Leland Lake Campground”.
I slowed down further and turned the car, driving into a smaller road leading into the forest. I turned off the front lights since I didn’t want to draw any necessary attention and could still see perfectly fine after all.
After a moment of driving, I spotted the first car. It was unusual since there was supposed to be a parking lot for the camp itself. I figured they didn’t want to pay the parking fee and just stopped by the side of the road.
I turned off the radio as I finally became annoyed by listening to the same playlist on repeat for 7 hours. I frowned at the sudden silence which was only disturbed by the sound of the car engine and wheels on the rocky sand grounds. No uncommon sounds but it was like something was missing suddenly. At the same time, I felt some kind of richness inside of me. It’s not as if something was taken from me but added instead. It wasn’t a sound and it wasn’t something I’d spotted in the dark. It was more of a feeling. A kind of warmth and comfort.
All of a sudden the car lights turned on. My eyes couldn’t adjust quickly enough and I had to close them. To not run someone over by accident I stepped on the brakes until the car stood still. At the same time as I opened my eyes, the radio turned itself on again: Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce.
Confused, as I didn’t put this song into any of my playlists, I looked ahead again and froze in surprise.
A person was standing right in front of my car. Unbothered by the harsh light flashing at them and the fact I could have easily hit them. They just stood still as if they were waiting for my reaction. They didn’t seem tensed or in shock, on the contrary - they seemed relaxed. I narrowed my eyes to figure out their features since I still found it too damn light for my nightly trained eyes: A slim, masculine body shape. Light brown curls were elegantly framing the face with its distinctive jawline and cheekbones. The stranger’s skin looked soft as silk. Blue eyes. No smile on their lips but also no sign of aggression. Black clothing. Too fashionable and clean to be out here in the woods that late. An Enigma worker? Perhaps the camp wasn’t just any camping resort for nature lovers.
The person moved, folded their hands behind their back, and slowly approached my car. Still no rush, no pounding heart or sweat of fear. They moved like a lurking panther.
I moved as little as necessary to watch them, hands still on the stirring wheel. My eyes tried to figure out the motives while my thoughts were racing. I don’t know if it was the song, me trying to remember where I’d heard it first, what the lyrics meant, why it was suddenly playing. Who was this, what did they want from me and why were they here in the middle of nowhere? What was wrong with my car, how did I get into this situation in the first place and why am I thinking all of this if I already know the answer to every single question? At least it felt like I knew. The moment the person finally reached my side and our eyes met, it felt like I knew the answer to every single question that was inside my head. Even those I haven’t asked yet.
For a moment I could identify a change in those blue eyes in front of me - something confused them as much as me. The moment became an eternity for a second. Tilting the head and keeping up eye contact, the stranger granted me a slight yet soft smile. I moved my fingers around the stirring wheel. Then, almost automatically, I took one hand off to move the window down.
“Thank you”, the stranger said in a voice as warm and low as slowly dropping candle wax. “For not running me over. You seem to have fine reflexes.”
My mouth was dry all of a sudden. I wanted to take my eyes off of him but I couldn’t. It wasn’t a magic spell, it was pure charisma.
His smile turned into a smirk, he laughed quietly and leaned a bit further towards me.
“Interesting choice of music. Are you often driving through foreign forests with thoughtful 70s?”
“N-no”, I cleared my throat. I hadn’t spoken for 7 hours straight, it was just natural.
“Shame. It’s surely fun.”
He leaned back again and for the first time, I was able to smell him. A dark, woody, yet light and almost flowery scent. It was both at the same time, kind of hard to explain. I must have shaken my head in confusion because the stranger tilted his head again and observed me more interested.
“Now, the road doesn’t lead up anywhere. Camp’s closed for 30 years already. At least to visitors who are seeking a calm place to sleep. Sorry.”
This time I caught myself and replied more quickly, even if less elegant than my talking partner.
“I don’t need a place to sleep. But what are you doing here then?”
“Taking care of lost souls.”
There was something honest about his reply. It wasn’t just a mystical phrase. It could have easily been a threat. The kind that lures you in, so you voluntarily run into the knife. But there was more. There was truth in it. I somehow wanted to believe him, throw myself at him for him to save me - whatever that was supposed to mean.
And fuck, I was hungry.
Just at that moment, I noticed something else than the stranger’s sweet and rough scent: blood. A strong smell of blood. It couldn’t possibly only be his veins. It was way more and different kinds as well. I intuitively closed my eyes and growled quietly.
My instincts took over. Without hesitation, I let go of the stirring wheel and opened the car door, set my left foot out onto the ground, and—
Found myself in the car again.
Baffled, I looked aside. He was gone.
I looked around but there was no one, anywhere. The radio went quiet. Again, there was silence. I didn’t move for another minute until a foggy feeling went through my head and forced me to close my eyes. There was the sound of a familiar voice.
“Turn. Go back home.”
It wasn’t my sister’s voice. I shivered under an unknown sensation crawling along the back of my neck which felt both pleasant and dangerous at the same time.
Then the silence and clearness returned. I opened my eyes and looked around.
Unsure of why I’d even stopped, I turned the car and drove back onto the highway.
20 miles until Townsend.
20 miles until home.