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Beyond Her Kiss

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Book 1-COMPLETED (Rated +18)

Sheila Marie was never a lust-at-first-sight kind of girl. Yet, there were some primitive urges and needs that wanted her to acknowledge it. But how could she resist the most ancient vampyre on the land?

Finally, she felt the pain burning her inside out. It shattered her mind and her very soul. Even though she wasn't bitten by anyone, yet she had the most mysterious bloodline even the ancients couldn't understand.

Now the darkness was on her trail, fighting for her blood.

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Chapter 1- Dying
When Sheila Marie imagined fainting, it was with delicate femininity. Yet the reality was different. She felt squeamish and then went down like a sack of potatoes in front of the entire coffee shop, hitting her face on the table. Julius lost the colour in his face. It was as if his heart had unexpectedly stopped beating and all the blood had run down his feet. He leaned for just a moment before he caught her and lowered her to the ground. "Sheila?! Oh my God! Somebody calls an ambulance!" The ride to the hospital was more unnerving than the fiasco itself; with every bump that the ambulance made, Julius' tension peaked. Seeing his friend strapped into the stretcher, he knew it was just the beginning. The paramedics said that if he hadn't called when he did, she could've died. He knew they were trying to help, but their words just ricocheted right off him. Though Julius didn't mind how they saved Sheila Marie, all he worried about was whether she was going to be okay. The screeching tyres and the wailing of the siren were wildly barreling throughout the streets in the hopes of saving one more life as the screeching echoed throughout the city. In the emergency, the doctor had the posture of a fighter. Every action he took was explicit and estimated. He smiled coldly and often distantly, as doctors do. But Julius could never be able to relax in the presence of such manners. He expected a natural face, preferably a smile, but if not, he'd rather they didn't fake it. Sheila was like a sister to him. They were both orphans; they struggled, and all their lives they'd been unsuitable parcels shunted between crammed foster homes, yet they both rebelled for their freedom. At the age of twenty, she was recruited to join the army and served her country. While Julius works at the museum. Sheila went through basic training and got deployed. Since then, he has never seen her again. But just a few months ago, she came back and became a different person—oddly unfamiliar. Sheila Marie wasn't herself anymore; she didn't even manage to smile and barely spoke. She wasn't the same, and he should have seen the signs. The day she came back, she called him and went to his apartment. However, he wasn't home, and he told her where the keys were. When he came home, he found Sheila on his guest room floor, almost dead. She had overdosed on pills. From then on, she has been in and out of the hospital. But she never told him anything; all he knew was that there were many reasons a person could get an honourable discharge before the completion of the contract. Julius knew she didn't have to be 'injured' to get a medical discharge. But his friend had an aneurysm after four years of active duty. Julius knew several others who had strokes or heart attacks and a few who had developed cancer or other diseases, but Sheila's condition was different. After an hour of waiting, she finally awakened, and another doctor walked in with a face like a brick. “Don't worry, dear, you'll be okay," Julius whispered as he saw the doctor’s serious face, though his actions were all intents and purposes. He analysed the chart for a few seconds and looked up with a perfunctory smile that flashed for just a minute. Behind the metal spectacles, the doctor’s eyes were as murky as his mouth. His speech was peppered with humour, though never improper, yet Sheila Marie never doubted for a moment that he was taking her seriously. "There are some complications, and she might not survive," the doctor announced with a sigh. Julius was speechless. Fear crossed his face, and tears shimmered in his eyes. He turned around to look at the only person who understood him. His best friend A few minutes later, she whispered, “Julius, it's too painful. I don't think I can make it.” “Of course you can,” he replied with blurry eyes. “You are not alone, okay? I'm right here. How are you feeling?” Sheila smiled. “Not great, honestly. But it's okay. I've been thinking a lot.” “What's on your mind?” “Our memories mostly. Remember that road trip we took years ago?” He bit his lip and said, “Of course, that was such a fun trip. The beach, the laughs..." “Yeah, those were good times. I wish I could go back,” her jaw tightened. Fear flooded her veins. “Me too, Shei. But hey, we made incredible memories.” “Yeah... Thanks for being there through it all. And I'm sorry for making you worry. Julius sighed, closing his eyes, as he held his friend's hand. “Don't be sorry. You've been amazing. Is there anything I can do for you now?” Sheila nodded. “Just stay here with me. It helps.” “Absolutely, I'm here. You're not alone.” “Thank you. It's getting harder to breathe,” she breathed in heavily, and guessed it helped that the fabric under her was ivory with a touch of cotton at the edges. The pain under her skin echoed in her mind. And even the morning sunlight that streams through the gap brings nothing but pain to her eyes. Though the window was closed, she could smell the roses just outside. A small, sad smile spread over her face. It wasn't the fragrance of those blooms she detected, but rose perfume on the drapes. “I think I can smell heaven.” “Don't talk now. I'm here, hold my hand,” he said with a sob. Inside, he was smoking with fear and sadness. “Julius, I'm glad you're here. Don't forget me, okay?” “Never. You'll always be a part of my story.” “Thank you... for everything.” “Don't talk, please.” “Thank you for being an incredible friend. I'll miss you.” Shiela smiled, her face paled. “I'll miss you too.” After many hours of waiting, Sheila Marie's misery, which once scorched like a fire, had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the rims of her vision, and the only thing she could listen to was her heartbeat. Her breath came in jagged, trivial gasps. Moments passed, and she heard voices. People swarmed all over her, attempting to save her. They wanted to save her. If she could have, she would have laughed. Surely they could tell that it was far too late for her to be saved, yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of the real world. Her time left was limited. Oxygen was slowly being ripped and snatched from her lungs. Every waking minute was suffering. Every action sent screams of misery dancing across her vulnerable flesh. Then her surroundings faded into a sick reality that only the broken could see. Yes, she was broken. She was alone. But there was only one question that haunted her. Heaven or Hell? Light or darkness? Then her fragile, human heart beat one last time. Then there was nothing but void and emptiness. Unexpectedly, after a moment or so, she felt the pain burning her inside out, rushing through her vein. She had never felt this kind of pain before; this was beyond anguish. It was total madness. It felt like there was a stake being hammered into her rib cage, through her heart, the assaults burning pain in a way that wrecked her brain. Dying is scary, she thought. Dying was like having a painful last breath, which she wanted to evoke with her profound emotions. It was like she was being reminded of the fragility of her life and the intensity of her suffering. Her fear highlighted the importance of compassion, empathy, and the pursuit of measures to alleviate pain and ensure comfort during such moments. But there was no comfort. It was painful. So painful.

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