Bitten

A short girl with blonde hair quickly hurried from her small barn. It was late and-once again-she had wasted the day away brushing the animals. Oh how she loved to talk to them, to know that she could spill all her secrets and be reassured that no one else would be any wiser. She loved the livestock with all her heart, and she was always getting picked on for it.

But now it was late, and she was hurrying. She walked swiftly through her family's pasture, her skirts picked up in one hand so she could move quicker. Her small farm house was just on the horizon; she was almost there. She needed to get home so that she could get some sleep that night. The next day, she, her sisters, and Ma were jarring and preserving the fall crops.

She glanced over her shoulder every few seconds. Yes, she was paranoid, but she had good reason. An old couple from the village had come for lunch the other day and had said that they were in the area. Her parent didn't believe in the old wives tales, though, but she did. And she was scared.

There, close to that last row of corn stalks, was that a flicker of movement? And there, by their well, was that a shadow?

No, she told herself. No one is present. I shall hurry home to Ma and Pa and sleep and in the morning we will start on the crops. Her resolve was strong, but not strong enough. She still walked with caution.

And then everything blurred.

She was grabbed from behind, and was too shocked to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth; it was cold. A mouth was by her ear.

"Hold still, now, and stay quiet," the voice cautioned. Even scared half to death, the girl noticed that the voice was beautiful-it sounded like bells.

She squirmed, but was unable to get away. She angled her body this way and that, trying futilely to get away. The wonderful voice laughed again, and she deiced that maybe the voice wasn't that wonderful.

"Now, now," the voice scolded, "that's no way to behave." The hands clamped onto her body with more force. "There is no escape."

Silent tears ran down her face and she whimpered as something sharp and cold pressed into the flesh that was her neck. She wondered if the person was using a dagger or even a knife, but deep down inside she knew it was neither. She also knew, in the very back of her mind, who-or rather what- had grabbed her, but she chose not to believe.

A sigh rustled through the air, blowing the girl's bangs away for a second before they fell back into her eyes. A voice reached her ears soon after. "I am truly sorry," it confided, "but this must be done."

And then the sharp thing broke through her skin, hard and quick. Pain; that was all she could remember. Pain was everywhere.

Her blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

Chapter 1

I stared at the white spot on the otherwise black wall. It was always the same, always there and never changing. Sad, but it reminded me of myself. There was no light in my, no proof of the outside world. It was depressing, really.

My blonde hair had fallen into my eyes hours ago, but I made no move to get it out of my never blinking pitch black eyes. My pale skin would've glistened in the moonlight, had there been any. But there was no light at all, as I said before, and I did not glisten. I did not move, did not blink, and did not shine.

Silence pressed down from every angle. Even the air seemed to weigh a ton. There was not the sound of rasping breath to break the silence, as I did not need to breathe. Every one of my scarce movements was graceful and lithe; they made no sound either.

For the first time in many months, I had thought of that night. That horrible, horrible night when I had walked from my barn haunted my memory. Yes, that peppy blonde had been me. Key words: had been. She was no more. I had become one person in the vast organization that lived away from the daylight, and the person I had become was not peppy.

Knock, knock.

A rasping sound came from my door. I slowly turned my head in that direction, feeling no need to hurry. I looked over the wooden door that the sound had echoed from. It was a very nice door. Now, I do not been nice-looking, I mean nice. Weather it was inanimate or not, you had to look at the facts. It kept all those annoying people out most of the time, and was virtually soundproof. I heard no sound from my new community, and they heard no sound from me. It suited me just fine.

Knock, knock.

Now the sound was irritated; or rather the person on the other side of the door making the noise was irritated. Whoever it was, was losing patience, and quickly. Those people who were always in a hurry got on my nerves-they had an eternity, couldn't they wait for five minutes? You'd think they would die or something (funny, seeing as how we can't die).

In a monotone voice, unbelievably beautiful (like the voice of the predator on that cold night), I called out to my unexpected guest.

"Come in."

In a split second, the door was thrown open. My guest, highly regarded among others of my kind, stood in the doorway. Her brown hair was pulled out of her face in a messy bun, and one of the eyebrows above her blood-red eyes was raised. Her pale hand was on her hip, and she didn't look happy. Funny, as I didn't remember deliberately ticking her off in a while.

"Rebecca." I greeted her without much enthusiasm.

"Leah." She said my name in a similar manner.

I turned my eyes back to the white spot. A sad sight, I must've been. My hair wasn't done, my eyes were black instead of the normal red, and my face was blank as I sat at the foot of my double sized bed and stared at the spot on the wall. Not that that was unusual for me, but still.

Another silence settled over us. I wasn't one to mince words, but Rebecca obviously wanted me to talk, and she wasn't one to not get her way. She seemed prepared to wait for a while.

At first, she didn't bother me. It was almost like being alone-silent, peaceful...a good time for thinking, really. But as soon as I had told myself that this wasn't that bad and it could've been worse, she started to get on my nerves. First, her fingers tapped out a irregular rhythm on the wall-never the same, never to a beat, never sounding like real music. I gritted my teeth and told myself to suck it up. Having to annoy the conversation out of me was annoying her, believe it or not, and that was what I was trying to do... After about ten minutes of tapping, she noticed that it had simply become background music to me, not a bother. So she began to tap her foot. She clicked the back of her shoe down first, before rocking into her toes.

Heal, toe, heal, toe, heal, toe....

Back and for the she went, never pausing or faltering. Slowly and surely, she was getting under my skin. You may be thinking that the clicking shouldn't have been that bad, and you would be right in normal circumstances. But Rebecca is very short, and likes to feel tall. So she wears five-inch-high strappy high-heals.

After roughly an hour and a half (in all), I caved. With a sigh, I swiveled my gaze to her face. She had a not very becoming triumphant smile plastered unto her already less-than-beautiful face.

"Did you need something?" My tone had an edge in it, and my eyes were sharp and cold. If only looks could kill, I would be a much, much happier person...

Rebecca smirked and leaned against one of the four walls of my safe haven. She stared intently at my face for a while, her eyes narrowed into observant little slits. Some people accused those very eyes of being able to see into the soul. I had laughed in those peoples' faces.

"You look hungry," she finally stated, a smirk twisting her lips. She thought I suffered in my hunger, as she did, and loved to see me when I was hungry. She was wrong, though, in the sense that I was tortured with the urge to drink. Well, she was always mistaking my needs with hers.

I shrugged. "I guess I haven't been hunting in two or three months." The desire didn't over take me now, as it had 162 years ago. I was able to go a while without indulging myself, and I was quite proud of it- not that I flaunted around or anything.

My unwanted audience of one sighed in fake admiration. "How do you manage such restraint?" she demanded in an airy voice. Mockery came easy to her.

I turned back to my spot and shrugged absently. I shrugged a lot.

Rebecca pressed her thin lips together. "I'm arranging for you to go out with Celia and Noah next week. Got it?" Her voice was demanding, like she ran the place. No matter how highly regarded she was, she still had her superiors.

When no reply from my general direction was forth-coming, she made a 'humph' sound and turned away. The sound of her shoes on the tail echoed back to me for a while. She only walked as slow as a human when she was really ticked.

I smirked and rested my head on my knees. Bugging her sure was fun-and not a bad pass-time, either.

When it was evident that she was a way away, far out of earshot, I uncurled from myself. Sitting in the same spot for at least a week was not fun. Why did I do it, then? Two resons: 1-to annoy Rebecca, and 2-because I really hated this life that'd been forced upon me, and this was my defiance.

I sighed and moved to the bed that I'd never really needed, and never really would. No sleep. No sun. No preferable food. A great life, eh? *please note my sarcasm. thank you.

"Knock, knock."

I turned to face my one and only friend who stood in the doorway. Her rosey hair fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were black, but not exactly cold. She had on a short skirt with a pink top and a white tank layered under it. Her feet were adorned in strappy high heals. I rolled my eyes at her, but smiled good-naturedly(sp).

"Hey Celia." My tone was light, but still had that undertone edge.

"Hey Leah." She waltzed over to by bed and laid down next to where I sat. I scanned over her attire one last time before meeting her gaze and raising my eyebrows.

"You going out with Noah again?" I gave her 'the look'. Noah was her long time boyfriend, and now fiancé. They'd been dating for about 40 years. They made a cute couple, to say the least. They were about the same age-Noah was 260 and Celia was 250-and height and they were, well, happy together.

"Yep." She popped her 'P'. "We're gonna go see a movie at the local theatre; there's a drain that opens in the alleyway right behind the place."

I rolled my eyes. "Just be careful, CC." That was my favorite nick-name for her.

"I will, I will." She laughed; it sounded like music. "Gosh, you sound just like my mom used to!" She laughed again and mimicked my voice. " 'Just be careful, CC.' " I stiffened. I'd never gotten used to how everyone else in the community went about their lives as usaul, as if there was no change what-so-ever. It drove me nits-didn't these people miss their old lives at all?!

"When are you leaving?" I tried to relax my voice.

She shrugged. "It's about 8:20pm up there now. We're leaving around 8:30." She smiled over at me. "I just wanted to say good-bye."

I sucked in a deep breath, more old memories resurfacing. I remember baking a cake with my sisters on that one special day, and doing all the chores so that Ma ould have a break. Pa would come home early with a new strip of calico for Ma to make a dress from...

"Leah? Is something wrong?"

I snapped my head up so fast that it would give a human whip-lash. "No, nothing..." I gulped before pushing on. "What day is it? Up there, I mean..."

Celia looked at me funny. "Wednesday," she said slowly.

I pressed my lips together. "I meant what's the DATE."

"Oh," she mumbled, blushing. "It's May 21st, and the year is 2008, I believe."

Inwardly, I sighed. I hadn't missed it. I still had over a month. Her birthday wasn't till the 25th of June. I usually went up to the local graveyard on that day, sense I didn't know the day of her death. She would be 198 this year, if had been alive, that is.

"Thanks CC."

"No problem," she replied, looking at me warily. She was curious, I was sure. Slowly, she leaned up into a sitting position, and then stood. She danced to the door, pausing elagantly to look back at me over her shoulder.

"I'll see you later, I guess. Sleep tight." She laughed at her own joke, and I couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Bye CC"

And she was gone in a flash, disappearing down the corridors as she head to Noah, ready for her date. Celia lived in evident bliss and had a knack of being oblivious.

I wanted someone to talk to, someone to confide in, but that someone couldn't and wouldn't be Celia. She was the type of person who considered others before herself. She was just setling down-getting married next spring, to be exact (she wanted a big wedding, and that was hard to arrange when you lived underground)-and she didn't need my troubles as well. Soon she would have kids of her own and a perfect husband to look after. I wasn't a little girl and could take care of myself, after all, so she needn't be bothered with me.

But that didn't help me much. I still wanted someone-anyone!-to confide in, and she was my only friend. What to do, what to do?

I sighed and leaned back against my pillows. They swallowed me whole, and I could barely see through all the feathers to the ceiling. I had a week to reflect on my hopeless life before the hunt, and then an endless eternity stretched before me after that. Living this long left me with way too much free time...

I looked around the small chamber that was my home, my safe haven, my fortress. I had a small dresser pressed up against the wall at the foot of my bed; it was to the left of my door. A chair and footstool stood in the corner to the right of my headrest, a small bookcase close by. An easel sat in the corner to the left of my headrest, opposite the dresser. There were no lights-no lamps, no ceiling fan, nothing.

I closed my eyes and wished-not for the first time-for sleep. Honestly, I wouldn't mind sleeping for the rest of my life-and that meant forever.

I placed a cold, dead hand on my wrist. Nothing. I moved my hand to a place under my chin. There was still no pulse. I uncurled my arm so that you could see the veins that traveled through my elbow; they were still blue, although no blood flowed through them. I closed my eyes then, knowing that if my kind could cry, I probably would've then. No blood ran through my veins, and no blood would for the rest of my miserable existence.

My body shook with silent, non-existent sobs. But that was it-they weren't real. I wasn't really crying. No water leaked out from under these lids, and no blood rushed to my face, nor did it crumple in despair. And that was why I hated the animal that I had become; because it wasn't really me.

No, I was not the same, nor would I ever be. I could not cry, could not blush, and could not feel the beat of my heart... My body was cold now-as cold as a dead body should be-and hard. It was hard and smooth at the same time. It wasn't soft and warm anymore. And my eyes weren't blue anymore-they were either silver or black. And now it was a rare thing to see my lips curve up even the slightest bit, when before a grin was always plastered to my face.

It wasn't just my body that was different, either. My personality had changed, too. I avoided animals, I never left my room, I didn't smile or laugh, and I never cracked a joke. The list could go on forever, but the biggest change was how I acted around people. Before, I'd go up and talk to people at random-I didn't even have to know them!-and now I had only one friend. Now I annoyed people just because I felt like it (Rebecca in particular) and took on a heavy sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples. The earlier trip down memory lane and the before and after stories had taken their toll. So I did what I usually did when I was mentally exhausted-I flipped on the small radio that stood on my dresser. Usually I hated music and noise because it made it impossible to think, but now I didn't want to think.

I flipped through the channels at random.

All because of you, I believe in angels. Not the kind with wings, no not the kind with halos-

Click. There was a bit too much screaming.

Goodbye Mr. A! You promised you would love us, but you knew too much-

Click. It was a bit too random.

We've been on the run, driving in the sun, looking out for number one-

Click. I don't know why I turned it; the song just bugged me.

Check yes Juliet, are you with me? Rain is falling down on the sidewalk-

Click. It was too peppy, too upbeat.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Either was nothing on or I was really upset. I figured it was the last one sense some of those songs weren't half bad. I even liked a few of the songs I flipped through.

But then, I stopped dead in my tracks. The song that was blasting through the speakers sit me so well that it was scary, and a bit creepy.

Somebody get me through this nightmare-I can't control myself! So what if you can see the darkest part of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become!

With a deafening crash, the stereo shattered into a million pieces, having hit the white spot dead-on. For a few seconds, I wasn't aware of what I had done. And then I can-to. I had hurled the radio as hard as I could against the wall. And now it was no more.

My whole body was shaking. I held my hands in front of my face and watched as they moved like a phone set to vibrate. I muttered a string of profanities under my breath and gripped onto the dresser with a vise-like grip. Well, I was in my usual good mood.

I stood up and paced. It usually cleared my mind. But maybe it wouldn't work, either-I mean, my first exercise had gone so well. I was right, too. This did not help. After nearly an hour-my legs still not tired or sore and that song rattling though my head-I decided to stop. I wasn't getting anywhere.

I pushed the song to the far crevices of my mind as footsteps clicked down the hall. Voices soon reached my ears.

"...our society has changed over the years," one was saying. Her voice was strong and sure, as if that was really something to brag about. I scoffed.

"Yeah, it has," a second voice agreed, and I could just picture the girl nodding her head. "I remember when it was rare for three or four of us to live together..."

The voices trailed off, leaving me in denial over what they said. I sat down on my bead again, crossing my legs and shaking my head. Those fools didn't have any idea of what they were talking about.

Nothing important had changed over the years, not really. They were liars, but the sad part was that they believed in those lies. They believed that we were getting closer to the answer, closer to revealing ourselves. I thought it was rubbish. Did they really expect the humans to accept us with open arms? We killed numerous of their kind daily!

We were still murderers, after all the time we had. We still take lives daily. We still live in the dark-afraid of-and repelled by-the light. We still crept in shadows. Despite the small difference in relationships, we were still all alone. We lived and hunted alone. No one person could completely relate to another. No-things hadn't changed at all.

I lifted my left hand and fluttered my fingers. The small band on my ring finger glinted. Alone; yes, I was alone. As soon as Joshua had found out about what happened to me, he was gone in a flash. The ring on his finger, once promising and engagement to me, now told of love for another. He'd lived and died with her-I'd seen their graves-and I got the short end of the stick.

I'd kept the ring on for 163 years-one year before the change and 162 after it. It had stood as my solid promise to myself that nothing lasts.

Trends, guys, humans...they all lasted for such a short era. Too small to matter, in my opinion. True, I had been a mortal once, but that had only lasted a short 18 years, and now I was mortal no more.

I stared hard at my hand and really considered things. I knew well enough that things didn't last, and I didn't care for him anymore, so why did I still wear his ring?

I knew the answer, but I didn't like it. It was because I missed being human, and this was my last tie to humanity. I missed crying and breathing and blushing and having a pulse. I missed it all, but most of all I missed fitting in. Now I was their kind, but I didn't belong with them. I was an outcast among outcasts.

But I didn't belong with humans, either. I'd tried to fit in once, in England, and had been tied to a post while they-that is, the humans-tried to burn me. (A very, very warm welcome, I must say) People shunned me because I was different, and they were persistent in holding the status-quo. So why did I want to be like that?

I sniffed, yearning for some kind of middle. For a place where I could walk free and stand under the sun, but a place where I was not judged or shunned. The quiet was getting old, and I wished for a place where I could fit in more than ever. Was I wishing for too much-was I being selfish?

I groaned and slammed my fist into my bed with super-human speed and strength. It groaned right back, but did not break. My kind built furniture to meet our...needs, if you will. Another silent cry broke through my lips. Another would-be sob racked my body.

I'd figured it out. I didn't want to be human, but I envied them. I envied their ability to live. I envied the ease with which their lives passed. They made such a big deal of such trivial issues. People say ignorance is bliss.

Oh, how true they are. Oh, how naïve they are. Oh, how good they have it.

This was like one of those scenes in a movie where a girl would hunch over and cry until her eyes shriveled from lack of moisture. The scene where weakness showed, the scene where human nature showed.

But, no. That did not happen. I could not-would not-cry. I could not-would not-show human nature. I could not-would not-show weakness. I was no longer human and could not-would not-do anything of the sort.

And, to my utter despair, my life had ended 162 years ago. My time had stopped short.

Yet that was a lie, too. It was a worse and more despicable lie than what those girls had been saying in the hall.

My human time was up. This cursed time had just begun. And it left me with an eternity on my hands.

I cradled my head. It was true-I had entirely too much time to think things through.

So much time that it was painful.

~