The First taste

I jolt awake, my body trembles. Feeling I am burning from the inside out, my throat dry, sore, everything ached. It hurts, everything hurts. I cover my ears, hearing a loud thrumming. I cover my eyes, overwhelmed by the glaring sun radiating in from the window.

I clench my jaw. The horrible ache didn’t ease, feeling my teeth slice into my gums, and blood filling my mouth. It was old, bitter, and did little for the burn in my throat. I focus on the beating sound in my head, wanting to snuff the noise out and be in perfect silence. Cracking an eye open, I take in my surroundings.

Wrapped in cream sheets up to my torso, letting go of my head, I lift my old shirt up, still covered in my blood from the night they turned me. The wound was gone, not a single scar found. I take in the room I am in. It’s small but big enough for a wooden dresser and bed, with a wooden chair in the room's corner.

Carefully lifting the sheet, I gently shift off the mattress, my bare feet touching the wooden floor, my legs struggle to find the strength to stand me up. I stumble a bit before I can walk properly.

Carefully opening the door, I poke my head through the gap. No one, not even a mouse, is within the empty hall. Across from me are two doors are on the other side of each other. I hear the loud thumping from the door that is across from my room. I swallow the non-existent spit. Hoping to dull the treacherous burn within. I tiptoe out of the room into the empty hall. Reaching for the door on the other side. My hands shakily grasp the brass handle and turning the knob. The thumping heard within increases in speed and the sweet smell intensifies. I push on the door, swinging open to a bare room. Nothing but a woman inside.

Squirming about on the wooden floor like a little worm, muffled squawks come through her gagged mouth. Limbs tied together, bruised and red from the thick, sturdy rope. Focusing on the loud thumping in her chest, drowning out her muffled cries. My breathing quickens, desperately wanting the heady scent to thrum through my empty lungs and drowns my senses. Mouth dry, my throat parched, burning with every breath, I cannot stop. Gliding my tongue over the fangs, feeling the needed sharpness to carry out my next move.

It’s all instinctive. I barely register my movements. The woman’s muffled cries only fall on deaf ears, her heart only thrums faster, the yearning grows with disparity. My clawed hand reaches for her hair, pulling her up to her knees, baring her neck to me.

With unknowing strength, I tear her skin like paper and the red liquid pools out from the wound. It is a mere touch with my dry tongue. An explosion of flavour and pleasure rolls through me as I lap up the blood. I couldn’t restrain myself any longer and desperately rip her into the skin with my fangs.

A satisfying muffled scream came from her as I gaped upon the sweet, life giving liquid within her veins. I drink faster, feeling the warm blood escape, smothering my mouth and into my clothes. I must not lose a single drop. A pleasant warmth spreads through my body, the burning sensation goes, and it only replaces with pleasure. So good, so warm. Mine. Every drop is mine.

A creak from the wooden door snaps me from my trance. Hearing an unknown voice sigh loudly and a foot thudding against the wooden floor. I tear away from my prey, snarling at the stranger. I will not let them take what’s mine!

My sire stares at me blankly. He didn’t react. Only stood in his place, and his bored expression sets in stone. His eyes stare into mine, searching, studying.

A presence becomes known in the air, a sharp instinct relays into my mind. Stop, listen, respect. The predatory instinct is gone. I close my eyes, trying to clear my head. I can feel it pounding into my mind.

Respect, bow. No! Resisting the presence looming over me, I focused back on what I started and finished the kill. I was less desperate and took my time, but it was only brief. Most of the blood was on me or the floor. I huff and let go of the corpse. I get up from the ground and stare at the vampire before me. The vampire who turned me. The bored look only turns into slight surprise, curiosity fills deep within his colourless eyes. Odd.

“Feeling better?” he asks me.

I notice the burn has only subsided. There wasn’t enough. I lick my fangs, enjoying the sharp feel on my tongue. I want to kill again.

“Still hungry,” I finally replied. The older vampire furrows his brow ever so slightly, staring at the ground in deep thought. He stays quiet before grunting quietly.

“I feared you would,” he finally speaks and then sets his eyes back to me. “But you will have to wait. It is not safe to hunt yet,” he finishes.

I bared my teeth and growled at him.

“I don’t want to wait. I want more,” I hissed, taking a step forward. “I can’t wait, I need it now,” I add out of frustration. I was buzzing with thoughts of tearing into tender throats, guzzling down sweet, warm blood, and sitting on the burning desire within. My nature screams at me, hunt, kill, feed, over and over.

The expression on my sire's face was bored, and he only took a step to the side. “Be my guest.”

I waste no time reaching for the front door, swinging it wide open, inhaling the air, searching for the sweet aroma that will lead me to my next meal.

The world is a blur, my body moving without thought. Mindlessly searching, it is only when I hear the beating heart. I hunt down my target. Only the human exists and nothing else. Fear in the human’s eyes and their heart picking up in pace.

My throat ignites, my fangs exposed, sharp and ready to puncture the throat of a helpless human. Excitement courses through me and a giddy delight leap in my chest. Chasing down, pouncing and pinning the human to the ground. A wolfish smile grows. Showing off my long, bloodstained canines. The human attempts to fight back are useless and pathetic. I chuckle at their plight before sinking down into their throat and tearing deep into their flesh. I groan, blood splashing onto my tongue, savouring the taste, not as desperate as the first kill. Fixated on the warmth pooling into my stomach, the sweet taste coating my tongue and throat. Their screams for help urge me on, glee rushing through as they slowly die down to whispers. The world around is irrelevant, it’s just me and the kill -.

A flash of searing pain burns through my abdomen, bringing me back to reality. I let go of my meal, gagging in agony as I feel it dig through my body. I look down and see the tip of the blade protruding from my chest. Fuck.

“Disgusting, creature!” the hunter snarls, pulling the blade out and kicking me down to the ground. Fear kicks into gear, I scramble to get away, unknown what to do in these situations. I can feel the blade stick into my abdomen, pinning to me the ground. I felt like a trapped lizard, my arms and legs flailing about, scraping on the stone street. “Die!” I embrace for the final blow, closing my eyes to the darkness, waiting for my subconscious to become nothing.

I hear a gag from above. The fresh, heady scent of blood fills my senses, snapping my eyes open to find the same hunter dead on the floor, with a hole in his chest and his heart laying next to him. I lick my lips, already eager to latch on and drink the rest. My mind blanks out, focusing on the taste, still bothered by the sharp object in my body.

“It’s been a long time since I was a newborn,” I hear the same monotone voice. They pull out the sword from my body. I felt the instant relief removed from my torso. “But you must understand you cannot just go after any human,” my attention snaps back to my sire. I glare at the vampire as I keep drinking. “Or prefer to die next time?” he hisses. I let go with a satisfying sigh. Still hungry, but more in control of myself this time.

“Then what do you suggest?” I croak, getting myself up from the ground, noticing the human I had attacked before slowly dying from blood loss. I wander over to finish the job.

“That you wait in the house and I bring you your food.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and let go of the dead human, licking off the strands of blood from my face and fingers.

“Like a common dog,” I hiss. My sire noticeably straightens himself, making him seem taller. He glares down at me, instincts take over, and I cower slightly at the older vampire. I mentally scold myself straight after.

“No, you are better than them. You’re young and with today’s display—lacking in control. Until you can contain yourself, I can teach you how to hunt and avoid hunters,” he explains, kicking the heart that was torn out from the hunter’s chest. I watch the organ bounce and roll down further into the empty street.

I relax a little, still staring at the heart, and lose myself in my thoughts.

What have I got to lose? It is unheard of—a sire looking after their child. They usually abandon them once they turn them and their fate is in the hands of the gods.

“Why?” I ask with a whisper.

“Our species is going extinct. It’s best if we try something different,” he answers before turning away from me. “Now, are you coming or will you fend for yourself?” he asks me, his back still turned. I look at the mess before me. The urge to fight back and prove this vampire wrong, but something smaller and a little more persuasive tells me to follow, be smart, don’t let my emotions take control. I’ll die out there, and he’s my only hope.

“Does my sire have a name?” I ask. He turns his head back to me, showing a small but soft smile.

“Syrus, you?”

“Rune.”