Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Finders, keepers - 4. Prompt 450
I was running. Running faster than I had ever done before or at least I tried. Behind me, I could hear the angry voices and the neighing of a horse getting closer. I should be able to outrun them, I always could. Somehow, this time they seemed to be gaining instead.
Through the narrow streets of this small town, over the slippery ground I ran. I looked over my shoulder and saw the lights from their lanterns. I could almost see their faces, distorted with anger and hate. I could definitely smell them, wishing once again I couldn’t. Hating the reason I could.
Where would I go? I had no place here as I was only passing through. Then that damned hunger got too strong and I had been careless. Choosing a victim far too strong, out of desperation or maybe something else. I didn’t want to go on like this, I wanted it all to end. And yet I ran. Only tonight my feet weren’t as fast as they usually were. I was so tired, so very tired.
Suddenly, I fell. Tripped over something and fell hard. Pain shot through my knees and arms as I tried to break my fall. I remained there, on all fours, panting. Looking over my shoulder again, I saw they were coming, but the pain in my right leg made it impossible for me to get up and run. Preparing for the inevitable, I closed my eyes. “So, this is it. It ends tonight”, I thought. Sadness welled up in me, but still I almost felt relieved to finally be rid of my affliction. That too would end tonight.
“Hey, you!” A hushed voice called out for me. At first, I didn’t react. No one spoke to me. No one cared.
“In here, now! They’re coming!” I lifted my head and turned towards the sound of the voice. At first I saw nothing, but then in a small doorway, the face of a boy. An arm waving me over. I glanced around again and then back at the boy. Indecision.
“They’ll hurt you!” The boy sounded upset. I felt like laughing at the thought of someone caring about my wellbeing, but it only came out as a snort. Then a particularly loud voice from my followers was heard.
“I’ll make him pay for what he did! Abomination! Ungodly creature! He will suffer for this!”
That got me moving somehow. I crawled over to the boy and in through the door behind him. Inside, I collapsed on the floor in a pile of hay covered by an old blanket, still breathing heavily. I heard the door being slammed shut and then locked.
It was very dark in the small room. Dark enough so I could hardly see my savior from across the room.
“I’ll light the candle as soon as they’re gone” the boy explained in a hushed voice. “Just be quiet. I don’t think they saw you.”
Through the wall, we could hear the loud voices of the village’s people. I barely dared to breathe as we waited. The people seemed to pass, the voices grew distant. I couldn’t believe my luck. Or well, luck wasn’t the appropriate word to describe my feelings.
The boy moved across the room and lit a candle. The light illuminated his face. He looked very young, about 12 years old, small and skinny with blond, dirty hair that was slightly too long. The boy picked up the candle and turned to me.
“Did they hurt you?” the boy asked sounding worried. Hurt me? No… Then I understood. I looked down the front of my shirt, which was covered with blood. I reached up to my face and felt the dried, crusted blood on my cheeks and chin. The telltale signs of my horrible fate. I sat up, slowly, pulling my knees up in front of me.
“Oh, I must have hit my face when I fell or when I ran…” I made a feeble attempt at explaining, seeing on the boy’s face that he didn’t believe me. I tensed, getting ready to defend myself again, but the boy just shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ll get you something to wear and help you clean up.“ The boy went over to a chest standing on the floor and started rummaging around. He apparently found what he was looking for and threw the garment at me, a simple but at least clean shirt. “Here!” He then went over to a small stove, poured some water from a kettle into a bowl and came over to me. On his way, he snatched a towel hanging over the back of a chair. He knelt before me and then dipped the towel in the bowl. When he reached out his hand, I could suddenly smell him. That smell! It filled me with a hunger stronger than I had ever felt before. But he was a child! I reared back, disgusted by myself.
“Don’t be afraid! I’m not going to hurt you. I just thought you wanted to clean up a little…” He apparently misinterpreted my reaction.
“I… That’s nice. I’m not used to nice…” I said, my voice sounding so unsure. It was true, though. I was not used to anyone taking care of me, touching me with kindness. He started to wipe my face, ever so gently cleaning me, taking care not to get to close to my eyes or being too rough on the skin. I felt my whole body just relax into his touch. I was so tired of running, so tired of hiding. So very tired of being me.
It all seemed like a distant dream, those days of my childhood and growing up. Being a happy boy with my family. So close to my brother and two sisters, my mother and father. They weren’t too strict, even if we knew not to cross our father. Then there was punishment to be expected. As it was the norm of the time, we didn’t feel it unfair or spent too much time thinking about it. Besides, father’s punishments were never excessive or cruel. In other aspects, he was the model head of the household. Providing for us, even making sure there were birthday presents and Christmas gifts for all. We were happy.
Then, in my 17th year everything changed for me. I had noticed my affections were not aimed at the girl living next door, but rather her brother. At first, I didn’t understand my feelings. Why would I want to kiss another boy? It wasn’t natural. At least, that was what I had been taught. The neighbors’ son convinced me otherwise and we started meeting in a shed located in between our gardens out in the back of the houses. He showed me just how sweet love can be and we shared our bodies, at first with fumbling embarrassment, but later without hesitation. I was in love.
Then one terrible night, my father found us. There was no mistaking what we were up to and my father threw me out of the house that same night. No money, no possessions to my name other than the clothes I was wearing. No matter how much I begged his forgiveness, he would not give it. I could see the anxious eyes of the rest of my family watching from a window on the second floor, but none of them came to my defense. Not even my mother. Seeing her turn from the window and closing the drapes broke my heart. My father’s yelled abuse faded to nothing compared to the pain of my mother turning her back on me.
Without a clue as to how I was to survive, I made my way through the city. Startling at every sound. Afraid of what people would think of me, what they would to me if they knew. Walking aimlessly until I simply fell asleep on a bench in a park. Soon enough, a police man showed up and brutally made me move. And so it continued. I finally managed to get a few odd jobs where I could find them, paying for at least some food but not enough to find a home. During those months I slept where I could. Temporary lodging in parks, under bridges, sometimes in a tavern or a farm house. I can’t remember how many months I roamed the city like this. Always cold, always hungry. Never welcome.
Then one night I was wandering about trying to find a place to sleep. I went past a park and decided that it was warm and dry enough to sleep under a tree. Maybe the tree would still have an apple to ease my hunger? As I entered the park, something or rather someone seemed to be following me. This was nothing new. As a lonely drifter, I had been attacked too many times to count. Tonight, I didn’t have anything to steal, so I thought “What does it matter?” feeling like whoever it was could try best he could. You can’t steal what doesn’t exist.
Oh, was I wrong. I suddenly felt two strong hands grab my shoulders and pull me back. I tried to fight him off, but he was so strong. Almost impossibly strong.
“You will do nicely.” He whispered in my ear, as he pushed me down on the ground. I got very scared, thinking he wanted to take advantage of me as some other men had done before. When I moved to get out from under him, he straddled me and pinned me face down in the grass. I started to scream, but when I opened my mouth not a sound came out. In my confusion, I could hear him almost chuckle.
“Well, my pretty, we can’t have you call out and get us interrupted, not now when the fun begins?” My body was so heavy, so sluggish. Even my brain couldn’t function properly. Over my left shoulder, I could see his face as he leaned over me. There was something strange about his face. Something that made me try even harder to squirm away from him. He smiled at me and that’s when I saw the teeth. Long, pointed teeth. Not at all human.
“But that’s not possible!” My brain refused to accept what was clear before me. It just wasn’t possible.
With a slight movement up, then down, he struck. Fangs burying themselves in my neck, pain shooting all over my body. Still I couldn’t scream. As he sucked on my neck, another feeling began to spread throughout my body. One that I hadn’t felt since those secret meeting in the shed. This made even less sense to me. How could I like, no want, no need to be attacked? I was suddenly hard and had to grind my cock into the ground beneath me. This earned another chuckle from the… thing on my back.
“So you like this? Then I’ll make sure you’ll get to enjoy it for a very long time!” His words made no sense to me, but he started sucking even more violently. I began to feel faint. Blackness was closing in on me, my vision blurring and I could feel how life was slipping away. Sadness welled up in me as I thought about my pitiful life. Was this it? Was this all it was going to be? Maybe it was for the best.
Just as I blacked out, I could feel him get off me and then there was something in my mouth. A strange but yet familiar taste. Blood.
“Drink, pretty boy. Drink from me!” I tried to pull my head back, disgusted by the fact that I had his blood in my mouth. Then it was as if a switch had been flipped inside me. All I could think about was his blood, his delicious warm blood. Without even realizing I knew how, I started to suck on his wrist. Trying to get more and more blood and feeling how my strength returned. Suddenly, my body screamed out in pain and started convulsing violently. This knocked him off my back, but now I was incapacitated by the pain and still couldn’t run away. I felt a horrible burning sensation all throughout and finally I could voice my anguish in a loud scream. But only for a second or two. After that I blacked out.
When I woke up, I was yet again alone. Lying on the grass in the park, I realized I didn’t feel cold. I was comfortable, even though I had slept outside in the middle of a patch of grass with the morning dew making the ground and me quite wet. I sat up and stretched a bit. Then the events from the night before came back to me. Now, in the light of the early morning, it seemed so ridiculous. It couldn’t possibly be true. My fingers went to my neck and I could feel two small wounds. The instant I touched them, an ache went through me. A hunger deeper than anything I had ever experienced before just took over my entire being. I was no stranger to hunger, but it had never felt like this. Like a ferocious animal demanding to be fed.
Clutching my stomach, I made my way out of the park and onto the street. I was so hungry that it was difficult to walk properly. Staggering across the street, I spotted a woman. Impossible as it should have been, I could smell her, hear her blood swooshing through her veins. So delicious… I shook my head, trying to get those thoughts out of my head, but it was useless. All I could think of was to eat, to feed. My mouth was hurting and I could feel my teeth really weren’t my teeth anymore. They were so different. It was as if all other things in the world faded and my whole world shrunk to focus on that woman. All I could smell was her scent. All I could her was her breath, her heart beating. Without being able to resist or think, I attacked her and bit her neck. It was all pure instinct, an instinct I didn’t know I had. The rich taste of blood filled me, her blood filled me. I wasn’t even aware of her screams, her fighting me and cutting my cheek with her diamond ring. I only knew I had to feed. And I did.
When the hunger subsided, I was finally able to step away from the woman’s lifeless body. I was filled with disgust over myself. Had I taken her life? What was happening to me? I fell to my knees, confused but at the same time almost delirious. I could feel my body getting energized and growing stronger. My mind was consumed by thoughts of more blood, more food. I ran my tongue over my gums and nearly cut myself on the fangs I now had. From a distance, I heard voices. Startled, I got to my feet and started running.
From that day, I kept running and didn’t stop. My days and nights were filled with jumbled thoughts of finding food and not getting discovered. An endless cycle of hunger, violence and shame. I realized my encounter with that strange being had turned me into whatever he was. Vampire… I didn’t understand how it was possible, but I knew I had no choice but to follow my new instincts. I hated myself for taking lives to satisfy my own perverted hunger. I tried desperately to resist again and again after that first feeding, but it was no use. My body had a mind of its own and wouldn’t let me ignore the craving. Many times I woke up covered in blood, with no memory of the night before. I could only conclude I had fed again, killed again, making me feel disgusting and despicable. I tried to kill myself a couple of times, but it didn’t work. I just woke up, as if from a long sleep feeling hungrier than ever. And the horrible cycle continued.
I lost count of how many years I spent like this, crazed and confused. Driven by urges I didn’t want, didn’t understand, but couldn’t resist. Never connecting with anyone out of fear that I would end up hurting them too. Besides, no one would ever accept me as I was now, this monster I had become. Then that fateful night, I got careless and almost caught. I almost thought I wanted to get caught, but the instinct to live was stronger.
And then there he was.
His name was George.
And I stayed out of the bedroom this time! I'm very proud of myself, even if some of you might not be as pleased!
- 20
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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