Everyday Vampire

Chapter 2: How I Got Turned

Chapter 2: How I Got Turned

I was twenty when I was turned, back in 1998. You know—in the days of chat rooms and dial-up internet. For vampires, not that long ago.

I was cruising gay chat rooms, having finally accepted who I was into. After a few duds, I was really hitting it off with this guy. We opened a private chat, and I typed first.

CollegeBoi98: So, did u want to meet?

Dracula69: Hell yeah. I’ll make you c*m like never before.

CollegeBoi98: I’m still new at this, so go easy on me lol.

CollegeBoi98: BTW y is ur screen name dracula?

Dracula69: What, you don’t think vampires are hot?

CollegeBoi98: Sure. But they’re the bad guys, right? Well, except for Angel in that new Buffy show. Have you seen it?

Dracula69: Seen it. Lame. And totally inaccurate. There’s no such thing as a Slayer.

Dracula69: And the teeth are so overdone. And the faces? Ew.

CollegBoi98: Lol ur funny. I’d love to meet up, see what happens.

So we did. He definitely looked like the bad boy I thought he was. Dark hair, dark, brooding eyes under a stern brow, soft yet supple lips—and the bulge in his black leather pants was nothing to joke about.

We met at a park. I was too nervous to go into the bushes with him. But he said it was cute. And he didn’t seem that much older than me. So we exchanged numbers and began to call each other.

That led to us making out on his couch one night. And the making out led us to his bedroom, me groaning in ecstasy on my back, legs in the air.

He thrusted into me, making my eyes roll in the back of my head while he worked to give me a hickey on my neck.

“Ow!” I said, pulling away and feeling my neck. “You…ngh…you bit me.”

He gave a half smile, panting slightly. “Yeah, I did.”

And that was it. I felt excruciating pain as he dove back in, his teeth ripping into my neck and spilling my blood all over. I screamed, but he held a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound. I fought back and bit his hand, tasting blood in my mouth.

He didn’t stop, and he continued thrusting against me, too. It was excruciating and exhilarating at the same time. We both climaxed as everything went dark.

Almost as if no time had passed, I awoke feeling silky soft sheets against my skin. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his cologne on the sheets. It took me a few moments before I remembered the previous night. I sat up in bed, feeling my neck. Nothing there. I looked at the sheets. No blood. Maybe it was a dream? I looked around for my clothes, but couldn’t see them.

The apartment was nice. Big windows that looked over a nice park across the street. He had a bicycle suspended from the ceiling in the next room. I’d commented on his tall ceilings last night.

He came around the corner, naked and holding two mugs, a newspaper tucked under his arm. I felt myself begin to harden at the sight.

“You’re finally awake,” he said, setting the mugs down on the end table and leaning in to give me a deep kiss.

“What time is it?” I asked him, reaching for my mug.

“It’s about nine o’clock,” he said. “But you’ve been asleep since Friday night.”

I frowned, taking a sip from the mug. It tasted like creamy hot chocolate, with a mix of orange. It was delicious. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Monday.”

I scoffed. “No it’s not.”

“Sure it is. Turn on the news. Or take a look at the paper.”

He tossed the Chicago Sun Times at me. The date definitely said Monday.

I shoved the mug down and bolted out of the bed. “WHAT?! Holy s**t, I have class in half an hour! Where are my clothes?!”

He just laughed. “Calm down, baby. You don’t need to worry about going to class ever again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, frantically looking for my underwear.

“You don’t have to get dressed, if you don’t want to,” he said, pinching my naked butt.

I slapped his hand away and pointed accusingly at him. “I need my clothes, and you’re not helping. Now, where are they?”

He sighed, looking amused. “I washed them and folded them. They’re on the couch.”

I sped to the living room, him following behind me.

“Are you going to even try to listen to me?”

“I have somewhere to be,” I said, frowning as I slipped on my boxer-briefs.

“Fine, I’ll just talk while you put on your clothes,” he said. “First, you’re going to want to feed soon. I can help with that. You just need to call me.”

“I can eat food by myself.”

“You’re not going to be satisfied by regular food ever again,” he said mysteriously.

Fully dressed, I finally turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“Can’t you feel it?” he asked, surging toward me and grabbing me by the arms.

“I feel less attracted to you now that you’re being so weird. What am I supposed to be feeling?”

He sighed. “Take a look at what you just drank.”

“I’m gonna be late.”

“Please. It’s important.”

I sighed and walked back into the bedroom, grabbing the mug. I looked at the dark liquid inside and my stomach gave an unpleasant jolt. It looked like-

“What is this,” I demanded.

He gave me a very strange look. “Now, I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but…it’s blood.”

I stared at him. Then I looked at the cup. I set it down and wiped at my lip and looked at what came away. It was red.

“Oh. Oh oh ooooh!” I stood up, arms flailing. “No! No! I did not just drink blood!”

“More than that, it tasted good, right?”

“What the f**k?! What did you just make me do?” I stood up and moved towards the door, but he blocked the way. “Move! Let me leave!”

“No! Not until you know. It’s too dangerous out there on your own.”

“The only thing I’m in danger from is you, you…sick…cannibal…vampire…guy!”

“You’re right about one of those things. Well, two. I can be pretty sick, and I’m a vampire.”

“I’ve heard about people like you,” I said, still trying to feel around his body to the doorknob. “You drink blood and you’re all…sex fiends and stuff.”

“Yes, I drink blood. And yes, I’ve been a s*x fiend since I turned twenty-six…fifty-seven years ago.”

“What?” I stopped and stared at him.

“I’m a vampire, and I turned you into a vampire by accident.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I tried to stop you from screaming, and you bit my hand. A vampire’s blood carries the disease, so I knew you’d turn. I tried to make you comfortable. I didn’t even take advantage of you while you were naked in my bed.”

I frowned and sat down on the couch, hard. My stomach gurgled, though I wasn’t sure if it was from hunger. I warily eyed the cup. There was blood in it. I’d drank it, and liked it. I didn’t want to believe anything he was saying, but I knew what I was feeling. Oh, God. Was this real?

The first time I have s*x with a guy. He takes my virginity and my life. Go figure.

“The first thing I learned was that the hunger will always win,” he said, sounding almost sad. “The worse the hunger gets, the more you’ll need.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Have another drink,” he encouraged, but I shook my head and crossed my arms.

“I…I’m a monster. I don’t want to be a monster.”

“We’re not monsters.”

“You lured me into bed to f**k me and kill me!” I roared at him, and he leaped back in shock. Then I said, much more calmly, “I think that’s pretty monstrous.”

“Well, if you look at it that way,” he said, giving me a sickening sideways grin. “I look at it as a predator-prey thing. The lion stalks the gazelle, or the spider spins the web for the fly. And then they feast.”

“But it’s murder.”

“We don’t call it that when animals kill other animals.”

“We’re not animals. We’re humans.”

He ticked his fingers. “One, humans are just animals with high-functioning brains and opposable thumbs. Two, we’re not human anymore.”

I leaned back on the couch, my stomach roiling at me for more blood. I didn’t know what to say, other than ‘no.’ I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to be like this.

“You should have just killed me.”

“Honey, I was planning on it. You bit me back, remember?”

“Can you kill me now?” My stomach churned.

“No.”

“Please.”

“No, I mean, it’s super hard,” he said, taking another sip from his mug. “I’ve seen a vampire’s head separated from its body, and the head kept on talking. And it could be reattached through surgery. We call him ‘Ol Frankie now, what with the lines of stitches around his neck. He’s always wearing scarves now.”

“That’s…horrible.”

“So, maybe don’t get dismembered, because you’ll still be alive, just in pieces.”

“You’ve seriously never heard of a vampire dying?”

“Oh, I have. It just takes fire.” His eyebrows waggled.

“What about…Dracula?”

He burst out laughing. “Myth, from my understanding.”

“And the Buffy stuff?”

“Okay…garlic doesn’t kill vampires. I put it in blood sometimes. Reminds me of marinara sauce. Crosses and holy water and s**t like that don’t hurt us, either. We’re not demons. And a wooden stake through the heart would normally hurt like a sonuvabitch, but we can’t feel pain, and it wouldn’t kill you. Oh, and vampires don’t sleep. You don’t need it. Last night was the last time you’ll ever sleep again.”

I took a second to absorb this information. “What about sunlight?”

“Doesn’t hurt. You’ll always be a little pale, but you won’t burst into flames if you’re exposed to UV rays.”

“What about that new movie, Blade? It’s awesome.”

“That’s actually a little more accurate, though there’s no such thing as half-vampires. And I don’t know of any cults of any kind, or mystical things surrounding vampirism. But the thirst for blood is very real.”

I sighed, looking distastefully at the cup of blood.

“I don’t like this.”

“I didn’t at first, either,” he said, looking solemn. “It took me a few decades to get to where I am now.”

“A few decades? How old are you?”

“Let’s see…I turned twenty-six in 1941, and I’ve been twenty-six ever since. But I was born in 1915.”

“What about your parents? Any family?”

He frowned. “Anyway, you really should have another drink. I’m betting you’re going to need a few more cups before you’re, ah, satisfied.”

I grabbed the mug and let out another breath, swirling the contents around a little.

“I’ll heat that up a little bit for you,” he said, taking the mug from me. “In the meantime, I’m going to let you read something I’ve never let anybody read before—The Basics of Being a Bloodsucker. I wrote it myself. Kind of like a ‘nine essential steps’ thing.”

He handed me a medium-sized leatherbound book, and stepped into the kitchen. The cover was blank, but when I opened it up, I saw that it had been hand-written. It was probably an old journal. I’d ask him about it when he came back. I began to read.