A Vampire's Memoirs

Maybe I should of told you what I was, what you were to become, before this game ever started. Maybe I should of been up-front, and asked you if it was what you wanted, to.

I was afraid, though. What would I do, if you turned me down? You were to be my first chil' ever, and I was anxious for this to happen. Tonite was meant to be a nite of partnerships and new beginnings.

Besides, Keir had never asked me what I wanted. I had not been given any choice in the matter at all.

Though, if I would just let myself think about it, I didn't want....

No! That had been a long time ago, and there was no use thinking about the past now. Keir was gone -

with his long, artistic fingers, his sinewy arms, and thin mouth. He was gone forever to me, with his mind-games and unreachable hope.

Now, you were here.

You had thought, months ago, that you could break me and make me begg. How could *I*, "a creature of mystery" as Keir had called us, ever be made to begg? Maybe you would be the one begging, after all.

As I looked over at you, I saw your pinkish lips part in a gasp. Your eyes were wide open, but I knew you didn't see the boxes and trash strewn about the small basement. I wasn't sure what you were seeing, though.

For myself I don't remember much of my birthin'. I remembered the long kiss Keir had shared with me... and then the darkness. And I remember waking up in his arms, feeling strange and weak.

You moaned then, and I slowly crept across the room to the small pallet where you lay. Your eyes were closed, and you were shivering.

When I touched your hand, it was cooler then my own. Almost as cool as the room that surrounded us. I knew then that you had been dead "a minute" as you so like to say.

You tossed, as if having a bad dream, and I grabbed your hand. I wondered if, perhaps, I should bleed a little more for you. A little more strength.

What if there wasn't enough? What if you never reawokened? 'Keir should be here for this!' every bone in my body was screaming at me.

But then, I don't remember anyone else but Keir when I reawokened. And no one else when I died, either. 'Maybe', I hoped, 'it's like mothering - something that comes to you naturally when you need it to.'

Not that I would ever know anything about mothering. I can never have kids, only chil'. Maybe one day, though...

You scratched at the wound in your neck. It was red and swollen, but it had scabbed over nicely. I watched transfixed as the wound slowly shrunk, the scab seeming to pucker inside of your skin.

As the skin got tighter and tighter, the scab seemed to grow. At first, it bowed inward, and then it rippled. Finally, it bowed outward, and popped quietly from the wound.

It lay there on your neck for a momen, untill I reached over and gently picked it up. Throwing it to the floor, I felt your wrist where your pulse should be.

Thankfully, your heart was pumping again. Slowly. Slower, even, then my own pumps the blood throughout my body.

My mind began to wonder again, and I remembered first meeting you. I think you were quite happy with my short stature. You once even said that you liked it when I looked up to you - as if I had a choice in the matter.

You smelt good. Like the woods after a rain. That was the first thing I noticed about you, as you stood behind me in the line at the all night bookstore.

So many men nowadays were too much perfume. It gives me a headache, and makes me ill to smell it. I can taste it in my mouth if they stand too close to me, and this is even worse.

Later you told me you'd been out hunting and were on your way home. When you said it, your eyes flashed almost as brightly as your teeth in your creamy colored skin...

Yes, it was your smell that attracted me at first. Still, I never would of looked at you, had you not dropped the quarter at my feet. I picked it up and was only going to hand it to you untill I saw the look on your face.

You have a beautifull face Michael. The dark skin, light hair, and green eyes are a becoming combination. But it's the hungry look that attracts people's attention to you. You look as if you could eat a thousand meals and still be hungry.

The jacket you wore that night - the black leather biker jacket that you wear constantly - was meant to make you look hard. It failed miserably, but the scars on your knuckles made the point.

When you raised your hand to take the change back from me, I could smell gun-oil on your hands.

You drew my thoughts back to the basement as you began to gasp for breath. Placing my lips to yours, I blew into your mouth...

***Author's note : This is my first attempt at wrining anything like this, but it was a boring *** ***night. So, if this sucks, let me know and I won't try it again. But if you like it, Ill try *** ***to finish it. Thanks for taking the time to read, and don't be afraid to be honest!!! Not Me ***

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