An Eternity of Night

         I was paralysed, engulfed in flames as cold as ice, or was it ice as hot as fire? It was inescapable. Uncontrollable. Every nerve in my body was electrified; singed and raw. Every cell in my body tingled. Surely I would die from this.
         But unconsciousness was slowly releasing its grip on me, second by second, inch by inch. And with it went the pain. I could feel it receding from my fingertips at first, and then my toes. It was like emerging from the swath of a cold fog, or breaking the surface of smooth water.
         In the end, I was numb. Relief washed through me as I lay there and took my first breath.
         And then a whole new pain started up. This one was more contained but just as excruciating – a dry, burning sensation that ran from my throat to my stomach, up my spine and through my veins. It felt as if someone had shoved a scolding poker down my throat.
         And what was that smell? That sweet, heady scent so close it couldn’t be coming from more than a few feet away. Every breath I took seemed to be making it worse. Involuntarily, I curled into a foetal position with my fists balled against my stomach. It took all my restraint not to cry out.
         In the corner of the room, something whimpered.
         Instinctively, I lifted my head in the direction of the sound and opened my eyes. A filthy girl sat in the corner of the room, eyes locked on me, slowly clawing her way to the door. Her blonde hair was thick and matted and dirt smeared her face and clothes. She watched my every move with a look of sheer terror.
         “Please! Please!” she whined, but I barely heard her. All my attention was focused on the slight throbbing at the base of her pretty white neck. Something about it, the way I could see the blue artery just below the surface of the skin, the way I could feel the life pulsing through her, made my mouth water.
         A faint breeze swept the room just as the burning peaked and then I was sinking my teeth into that pretty white neck before she even had a chance to scream. Blood spurted into my mouth, just as warm and sickly sweet as it smelt but tasting even better. It didn’t take long for her to run dry. It seemed only a few mouthfuls later I was standing over her carcass as the blood ran down my chin.
         Boy, did my throat burn. I kicked the girl out of my way and twisted the door knob. Locked. I pushed it hard and felt the wood groan beneath my palms. One good shove and it was down.
         Someone was stood in the hall, smiling darkly.
         “Carmel,” she said, though it seemed no one else was around, “come greet our sister.”
         A flash of movement caught my attention and I span to the source of it. A woman stood in a doorway, long blonde hair flipped over one shoulder. Her sharp features were stony, but her eyes shone with excitement.
         “Welcome sister” she breathed in a slight accent. I couldn’t focus enough to wonder where she was from. I was too intent on getting some more of the sickly stuff. My eyes flickered from the blonde woman to the one with the short auburn hair and back again before pausing on the stairs. I couldn’t smell any of that stuff here. Maybe outside? One quick flip over the banister and I was out of here. I just needed to get past the Brides of Dracula first.
         “You must be hungry” the blonde one, Carmel, said, appraising the blood on my chin. “Go, feed as much as you like, but I give you one rule. We are not the only ones of our kind here. Nor are we the most powerful. We must respect the wishes of those on whose territory we trespass. So you must feed from the bottom. From the waste ground of society where few will be missed, if noticed at all. Oh and be sure to come back.” She smiled knowingly at the auburn-haired one, who smiled knowingly back. I got the feeling there was some in-joke that I wasn’t party to but it all went over my head. They weren’t going to stop me leaving and I wasn’t going to give them time to rethink. I was down the stairs and out the door in the blink of an eye.
         I didn’t think of anything but the insistent pain as I ran towards town in the dead of night. Something about the place was familiar to me. My legs knew which turnings to take before I recognised where I was. My legs were on strict orders from the burn to keep up with my nose. My nose was following that sweet, sweet scent that made my jaw ache with anticipation.
         I hadn’t considered being outside would pose any problems for me. It did.
         For one thing, I hadn’t even had time to process the thought that each person had an individual scent. So the moment I reached a main road was the moment I was struck like a rabbit in the headlights by a hundred different scents, from a hundred different directions. Which way did I go? Which one did I go for?
         The second problem was that, despite all the smells and flavours I could taste on the air, there was no one around. That was due to the fact that it was the dead of night, not to mention that this was probably the most run down place I’d ever been. At least, I guessed it was. Right now I couldn’t remember being anywhere before. I was too confused. Too focused. Too burning.
         And those scents could’ve come from miles away. Maybe carried here on the breeze from the other side of town.
         Angry and frustrated I kicked a garbage can. I hadn’t expected it to fly across the street and take a chuck out of a tree but it did. Strange though, how the anger made me sober. I could think again. I could almost formulate a plan.
         I sprinted down the street and scaled the nearest building. Maybe I’d have better luck at a higher vantage point. I jumped roofs heading towards town and eventually the buildings began to look a little less shabby. Not much, but there were signs of life here. A half eaten kebab in the gutter. A urine stain on the pavement.
         Classy, I thought sarcastically.
         The flavours were getting stronger now; I could taste it in the air. My muscles pumped and contorted, pushing me harder and faster as I lunged from roof to roof until I eventually found what I was seeking.
         Through my blind lust, I was surprised I’d actually taken in any of what Carmel had told me.
         You must feed from the bottom, her smooth voice echoed in my head, from the waste ground of society where few will be missed, if noticed at all.
         The meaning of it all was tragically clear. The thought made me feel physically sick. I was a bottom-feeder, plucking off those who took their life for granted. A saviour of the dignity of humanity in a way. How ironic.
         I snickered humourlessly as I watched a scantily-clad girl flounce slowly up and down the street from my spot on the rooftop of the rundown apartment block. How ignorant she was, pouting and strutting at the trickle of cars passing her, hoping to make a quick buck with some perverted fifty-something. Didn’t she realise how insignificant she was? Her life was in my hands now, and how easy she would be to snuff out.
         She didn’t see me drop the forty feet to the ground below. She didn’t hear me walk towards her, despite the fact that I wasn’t paying particular attention to being quiet. She must have felt my aura as I stood behind her though, because she spun around and almost lost her footing. Lazily, I grabbed her arm.
         She rose an eyebrow at me. “I’ve never had a girl before.”
         I sneered back. “I have.”
         My teeth sank into her throat before she had time to gasp. I drank deeply, drawing blood from every artery and capillary in her worthless body, crushing the life from her bones and feeling her fall limp in my arms. I dropped her like a sack of potatoes.
         Rule #1: Only let them live long enough to be surprised.