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NOT just another bloody vampire story!

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Chapter 1

Autumn 2012


I sucked a man dry today, he was my first. At the start, I was one hundred percent committed. But then I imagined the violence of the act, and it seemed so cannibalistic. Latching onto his neck like a wild animal, then puncturing the skin enough to draw out his blood? Way beyond my comfort zone.

         Weeks ago, seems like yesterday, my boyfriend and I found the answer to my illness in the Boston Library. What the book suggested seemed unreasonable, impossible, so fictional; yet everything made sense. Everything the book said fit what was going on with my body while countless doctors came up fruitless.

       According to the old book, my body has changed. Now, I have within me the ability to consume several pints of blood at one time. My body actually requires it. So I either suffer pain and eventually die, or I choose to take a life so that I might live. My name is Annie Scarlotte. This is my story.

        If forced to describe myself, my height is somewhere between five foot eight and six foot two, if you include my hair at a given time. My hair, as well as my clothing, can be any style really. I like variety. Since my younger partying days are over, I seldom go too wild. My eyes are golden brown in the right light. My eyes are the first thing Marcus noticed about me. Years ago I added weight training to my cardio workouts because I want to keep my feminine curves, and because I want to be strong. Like most women, I want to be strong; mentally and physically.

        To this day, there are things in my head to overcome, things I cannot totally shake free from. When I was four I was taken to my new home by social services. Up to that point, I had been a ward of the state. Before that I have no recollection. Social workers had about given up on finding me a new family. I was scared for the usual reasons a small child would be, with not having a family to call mine. When I met my new mom and dad, a new fear was added to my life. Even at such a young age I was keen enough to see that they didn't really care about me. They didn't really love me. They were hiding something and I didn’t know what it was. That first night I went to bed with an empty stomach, wondering why the people at social services didn’t see it too.

        In retrospect, I had become a rebellious brat. But I had good reason to be. My birth parents could not be located, and I felt like a mere material possession to my adoptive parents. Days, weeks, months went by in which I wondered why they even wanted me. No matter what I did to try to please them or keep them from yelling, they would not show one drop of love to me. 

        My new mom and dad smoked all the time and drank alcohol nearly all the time. The atmosphere in my house was clouded with anger, was dingy and cold, and always smelled like rotten fruit. Glancing back it is easy to understand why I was so depressed as a young adult.


        Now, I sit by myself on this wide window sill, trying to shake away those ghostly feelings that seek to blanket me once more. They don't deserve me, especially not right now. In nothing but my peach colored panties, I distract myself with the scattered D.C. night lights. My lips are glossy red, not from lipstick, but from his blood. I'm amused at my reflection in the pane. My belly is distended, making me look two, maybe three months pregnant. Smudges of his blood are abstractly brushed onto my right cheek. Half-dried trails, now dry, trail between my breasts and down past my bellow button. Moments ago, I discovered a coagulated clump on a few strands of my hair, pulled them around to my mouth and sucked on them. It was like an after-dinner mint.

        Although violent, the act itself was truly sensual in a strange way. Fate had brought this ugly, vile person and I together. It was like some force of nature had blessed me with approval. There was an invisible alter, and I was bowing to the new power within. I had never felt a peace such as this.

        Sure, it was a bit awkward at first, aiming my mouth to that sweet spot on his neck. But quickly and instinctively the new me was taking over. When the first gush baptized my tongue, time paused. I sobbed behind soul-quenching gulps. Throbbing ecstasy within confirmed I was doing the right thing. All was right with the universe; I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. 

       Now, outside, a cobalt blue hue peeks from the blackness of the sky. Behind it storm clouds close in. Light rain spatters at an angle on the glass. 

       A vibration. I know who it is. I slide away from the window long enough to pick up the call. 

       “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? I had a feeling you would call.” Marcus drew a deep breath. I hated when he sighed like that. 

      “Sorry Annie. I just had to know you are safe. How'd it go?”

       “It went well. I'm safe."

       "I know you're miffed that I disturbed your moment."

       "Yes, but you did help make this happen. You took care of the body, right?”

       “Yes. Next time, will you at least let me be nearby in case you need me.”

       “Sure. Is there anything else?"


       “You want some, don’t you?” 

       Silence for a beat.

       “And I think I found your next victim.”

       Next victim, he said. Maybe I will get used to the word. But it is their life or mine. And if Marcus can keep me from stressing over when my next feeding will come, that means everything.

       “Come over," I commanded. "We can talk about it in the shower.”