Awakening
The moment of penetration was always the most exquisite
to Will. The presence of her teeth, or "fangs" as he liked
to call them, was secondary to the power he felt behind them,
a fierce, driving, animal lust. When they were removed, he
felt for a moment as if he could not breathe or even think,
and his eyes were useless, even when open. Afterward came
the slow, pleasant, draining, that led to the most restful
sleep he ever experienced.
As he drifted off, she moved from his neck to kiss him
tenderly on the forehead. What amazed him was that she always
knew when to stop, as if some empathic sense told her how
close to death he wished to be. Will supposed she was an
expert on death, having been there and beyond herself.
When he woke up she was gone, as usual. Will discovered
that he had slept through the rest of the night. Before she
began her visits he had been an insomniac, sleeping only with
the aid of pills or utter exhaustion. Now he drew on the
serenity of one who was already dead, one who had eons of time
in which to accomplish her goals. Her presence seemed alternately
to calm and inflame him, so that his moods conformed somewhat
to hers.
Will never dreamed while under her influence. He supposed
that was appropriate since, while he was with her, thoughts
of his usual life evaporated as would a dream at morning's
light.
With difficulty, he rose from the bed. He turned on the
light, washed, shaved, and went through the dreary morning
routine. Will would have liked to abandon it entirely, as
his consort had, one hundred and fourteen years ago. He
had memorized everything about her, she was so vibrant
and alive, so real that these bits of trivial data were more
important to him than many from his daytime life. She
had changed her name eleven times over those years and it
was currently Selene.
Breakfast was cereal of some kind. He didn't bother to
read the box. The food tasted like cardboard, as it
always did after her visits. He knew he had to eat but
still he hated it. I want to be like her! he thought, for
the thousandth time.
Will switched on his computer. The cheery logo of
Microsoft greeted his eyes. The colors were like cheap
pastels. He wanted to destroy the screen. What were the
images of everyday living comopared to those he had seen
last night? The blazing, hypnotic, white of the full moon;
the lustrous chstnut brown of her hair; the rich, full red
of her lips after she drank; these where the things he lived
for.
He opened the most recent file and began to type.
The words flowed easily and freely, as if his fingers were
connected to some vast creative ocean. The fools called his
work horror fiction. Wrong on both counts. It was not horror but
love that inspired him to write of these things and they
were truer than anything he knew.
Finally, he paused. Something was not right. No, he
realized, something was right; everything else was wrong. The
hands that were typing had no color to them, as if she
really had drained everything she could from him. For a
moment he just sat there staring at them, as if they were bizarre
amonalies, enigmas with no justification to exist at the ends of
his arms. "Must be your imagination," he murmured. Too
many things didn't fit. He glanced at the window. Bright,
sickingly cheery sunlight greeted him. Without thinking
he stared down at the silver cross he wore around his neck.
That, at least, didn't prove anything. Selene wore one
herself, and he had bought one to match soon after their
first meeting. It was the one symbol of goodness and
purity he allowed in his presence, as a gesture of defiance
to those who thought it could harm her kind. Your kind now,
a voice told him. He desperately hoped that voice was
right.
Will realized that Selene had never told him what it
was like to be transformed. Well, that would change when
she returned.
He got up and walked easily to the bathroom. I shouldn't
be this strong. He jumped, experimentally, and felt no
fatique or light-headedness. The mirror showed him a very
pale, but otherwise normal visage.
Will sat down again at the comoputer and tried to think.
When would she come back? Sometimes she returned the next
night, simply to talk, without expressing any interest in
the previous night's activities. Sometimes she disappeared
for weeks. It would be useless to call her now; using the magic
of their bond would be like trying to wake him after one
of her visits.
He passed the time until dusk pacing, writing
sporadically. He never thought about leaving the apartment,
as if some spell would be broken if he did so. He never
called anyone, not trusting his thoughts not to betray
themselves.
He intently watched the sun set, never moving until
it had dropped safely past the horizon and plunged the
city into cold, beautiful darkness.
Will closed his eyes and shuddered, releasing all of
the day's anxiety, all of his desire, his need, in one of
pwoerful burst of thought and emotion. Immediately her
response came, soothing, reassuring, filling him with love and
putting him at peace. It seemed as if her mind was caressing
his own.
When he finally opened his eyes and gathered his thoughts,
as if rising from the bottom of a deep, dark lagoon, they
came to focus on her chest. He paused for a moment to admire
the paly of the shadows on the contours of her perfectly
curved breasts. His hands automatically began to stroke
her back and sides as he raised his eyes to view her lovely
face. Will's lilps bent into a smile at the realization that,
judging from the respective hues of their skin, Selene had
more of his blood than he did.
She leaned down, lips parted, and they kissed, slowly.
Will noticed that she was kneeling on the chair he had
watched the sunset in, her legs on either side of his waist.
His hands, still moving of their own accord, glided over her
hips and thighs.
"I love you, "she breathed in his ear. Was that the
first time she had said it?
"Last night was the last time, wasn't it?" he whispered
back.
Selene nodded, sadly it seemed.
"What am I?" Will was surprised to hear an edge of
fear to his voice.
"Come with me," she said gently. She got up, still
embracing him, and tenderly closed his eyelids with one
finger. He could feel his body tingling, changing his
clothes falling away.
Looking around him, the long-ear, leathery face that
he saw seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.
Together they crawled to the still-op window and
glided into the night.
Today was your day of grace, the thought came to him.
He thought of the sunlight and immediately understood. He
suddenly felt very hungry? Thirsty? He decided they were
the same thing. In response to his thought, she swooped
down toward another open window. Her Intent was clear.
In the room they glided into, a child slept soundly,
covers curled protectively over her resting form. So sweet,
he thought, and for a moment pangs of pity and regret
afflicted him. He pushed them out his mind. Will later
wondered whether Selene had helped him do this, once again
exerting her considerable influence over him. I don't need
much, he argued, and pity is not an emotion I can feel any
more. The coldness of his thoughts surprised him, but he
drank anyway, appeasing his thirst. He felt approval. He
licked the blood away, almost apologetically.
The night seemed to last a century, and he later
reflected that he had probably learned more in those few
hours than in all his mortal life.
"You realize I'll have to find someone else, don't you?"
she said, watching the stars above the park, not looking at
him.
"Can you love another? After all this?" His thoughts
reminded her of their times together.
"There were others before you, you know. I can't give up
what we had when you were alive."
"Then why did you do it?" He was referring to his
transformation.
"Wasn't that you wantd? Wasn't that what you said
every time I came? 'Change me!', you said, 'I hate life!' I did
for you."
"You're right. And I have no right to resent your
decisions."
She smiled, bringing one leg over himand pressing him onto
his back.
"Can we really do this?" he asked, "now that I've been
Changed."
"I can do anything I damn well please," she responded,
grinning. It was what she had always said, and to hear it
gladdened his heart, as it always did. He felt suddenly free,
finally knowing that he was experiencing reality, not a cheap,
haof-formed dream. He blinked. The colors of the moon-lit
night seemed almost tangible. He gasped when his hands
touched solid, eager flesh.
"It's all so real!" They both laughed, and their
laughter filled the night with joyful, uninhibited noise.
They rolled over and over on the grassy slope, for the
moment existing only in the present, feeling only wild
abandon. Will realized that, ironically, he was in heaven,
and conferred his joy at this realization to the angel beneath
him, knowing that they would give each other happiness for
all eternity.
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