Vamypr, Vampire

I don't know why I did, but I stayed at the Greasy Dog Inn. 

I'd been three days already, and was nearing the beginning of the fourth. I watched from a window pane barely larger than my face as the dull sky slowly turned dark, swallowing any light that managed to come through. 

Silbath remained thoroughly active throughout the night. There was never downtime in this town, and it felt entirely intentional. While the humans crept into bed with the fading sun, the rest, the monsters, the vampyrs, came out at night. 

I could recognize them now, simply from watching behind this window for the last three days. They, or we, I supposed, moved as fluidly as water. Not a sound was made when they passed through the streets. 

While activity never stilled in Silbath, noise certainly did. As soon as the sun was down, Silbath entered a deep quiet, like its residents were holding their breath to avoid being heard. 

I'd also picked up on what I'd learned was an accent. I'd caught the word through a passing conversation by my window, ladies speaking of the Lonest merchants. They, the merchants, apparently had an attractive accent. 

It was strange, hearing words I knew but said differently. 

Silbath spoke on drawn out syllables, slower in their speech than Reddon. I'd even heard whispered conversations, discussing my kind. Vampires, they called them, a slight variation to what I knew. 

The day after Galan left, clothes had been left outside my door. I'd heard them approach, drop, or rather throw, the clothing at my door, then scuttle away. 

They were simple clothes, but what struck me was that they had color. I'd laid them out separately on the small bed the room allotted. Two gowns, one a deep purple that tightened at the waist and had a plunging neckline, the other a modestly shaped black dress. 

I'd also grown more than familiar with the room I'd been assigned. 

The bed was pushed into the far left corner of the room, just underneath an incredibly small window that didn't open. White sheets peeked out underneath a brown, wool blanket. 

Next to it sat a nightstand, then a desk. None of it was remarkable, but I'd also never been around anything worth this much. 

The furniture was relatively new, possibly less than a hundred years old, and it humbled me, and I allowed it to. 

Practice, I'd realized, is what it would take to feel my human emotions again. And that's exactly what I'd been doing in Galan's absence, marveling in any emotion I managed to feel. 

None of it satisfied me; it didn't hit the small ache I wished to feed. 

Movement captured my attention. I was still hovering an inch away from the window, lost in my thoughts, when a large shadow imposed on a distant brick wall. 

Strange. 

Firstly, it was a shadow. Someone was out here, with light. They were also running, which was only common if you were someone else's prey. 

I quickly learned, Greasy Dog Inn was only the entrance to the rest of Silbath. A front, actually. 

The homes and stores were abandoned for good reason. Only death prowled here and only death flourished. 

Blood curdling screams had echoed down my hallway on the second night, followed by wicked, howling laughter. It was a woman who screamed and begged for life that night, and it was a man that delightfully snuffed it. 

I'd spent that night listening, fighting to feel, or even to stand up and save her. Those thoughts brought horrible waves of pain, shaking me from head to toe. 

Stop it. 

I didn't know if it was a real voice or an imagined one, but I'd heard it several times nonetheless. 

The dancing shadow drew nearer, skipping across the backs of buildings. I could see a bobbing source of light, bouncing in the reflections of puddles. 

Someone began beating at the door to the hallway, thunderous rumbles echoing. I knew this because that was the only door that actually stayed locked. 

"Who the fuck is pounding that door?" It was faint, but I heard Aldous' raspy voice, and shuffling feet sliding across the wooden floor. "Aye!" Aldous shouted a moment later. 

There was a scattering of pounding footsteps on wooden boards. Something crashed to the floor, bouncing several times against it. 

"Quit it!" Another crash. "You don't got a key for a damn reason, mutt." 

Something was moving me forward, pushing me to investigate, but it wasn't that horrible, painful desire that urged me on. No, I was curious. 

I was still in the black dress, the ends of it tickling my ankles. Its sleeves reached down to my wrists, flush against my arms. It was flattering, or at least from what I could tell by looking down at myself. This room had no mirror, or reflective surface of any kind. 

Aldous had given me shoes as well, but I found them to be uncomfortable, bothersome in their noise. 

Instead of slipping those leather shoes on, I moved across the floor, barefoot and silent. My fingers skimmed across the door as I swung it open with my other hand, braving my first steps out of my room, alone. 

The hallways were empty, doors shut and their residents silent behind them. No one else would intervene, not for the innkeeper that housed them. 

And what did that make me? 

I felt my heart skip a single beat, as it had been doing for the last day. My heart was dying again, slow and weak. 

Rounding the corner, I faced the door that kept whatever it was out there, out. "That's not possible," Aldous was saying, responding to something my ears hadn't picked up. 

"I am the only living being here. I house fledglings, not humans," the innkeeper rumbled, but I could hear the terror in his voice. 

"Another heart beats on the other side of this door, innkeeper," a voice hissed out, eerie and unsettling. I felt it then, a spark of fear entered my chest. 

This wasn't an emotion I would feed. 

My hand reached for the doorknob before the door suddenly rattled, shaking the doorframe. A puff of dust sprinkled down, catching on my face. 

"Very well," it said. "You leave me no choice." 

What sounded like claws scraped across the wood, followed by a resounding thud of bodies hitting the floor. Without thinking any more of it, I pulled the door open. 

I was met by the sight of those same candelabras knocked to the floor, wax already pooling onto the wood. Taking a cautious step into the room, my head turned to Aldous' desk, finding an imposing, hunched shadow over a sprawled, frail body on the floor. 

The shadow, feeling another presence, wheeled around, glowing, red eyes landing on my face. The human in me flinched, cowering from this sight. 

It was a complete and utter beast. Parts of it still resembled a man; long, human-like arms and legs that pinned Aldous to the floor. 

Its head and body was that of a beast, a mockery of what might've been a wolf. A muzzled mouth coated in blood pulling back, revealing multiple rows of wickedly sharp teeth. "What are you?" It asked me, forgetting about the meal it held. 

"Release the innkeeper," I demanded, keeping my chin held high. What was I doing? 

"I can hear your heart," it seethed out on tongue not meant for speaking. "Yet you carry the scent of Death. Purer than I've smelled before."

"I am more than you, beast. Get off of him." The voice that came from me wasn't my own, and I could've sworn I heard the echo of another's voice, repeating my words. 

The beast obeyed, rising from its hunched position. At its full height, it towered feet above me. While its back and head was covered in matted, brown fur, its belly and limbs were a bare, gray skin tone. Ribs jutted against his skin, looking as though they were going to break through. 

He, I realized by looking down, was gaunt, looking like he'd never had a full meal. 

"Who are you to command me?" He snarled, taking a step closer to me. His feet were not those of man; they were gnarled and twisted, ending in sharp claws. "I have no master." 

"Death commands you." 

"You are not Death," he laughed at me, sounding like rumbling growls. "Death hides away from His creations. He is not here to command me, girl." 

"Maybe not," I said, braving a step closer to the beast. I'd doused that flame of human fear. Such an insignificant emotion; fear was for prey, Silbath had taught me that indefinitely. 

If you screamed, you were chased. If you ran, you were caught. I would do neither of those things. 

"But I have met Him, and it's His blood in my veins," I continued, keeping my hands calmly interlaced before me. I knew this was foolish, challenging a beast I had no comprehension of. But my words seem to have struck something; the beast's curled lips flattening back down to hide its teeth. 

"If what you say is true, you should hide like He does." Those glowing eyes were still pinned on me, but it said nothing else as it stepped away from Aldous, morphing before my eyes. 

The beast slowly changed back into a full man, standing on human feet. He was naked, and still as skinny as before. "Leave," I said to him. "You're not welcome here." 

The now human glared at me with narrowed, dark eyes. I couldn't tell his age, but I knew he was older than I. "You're lucky, girl." The man spat on the ground, but he began walking towards the door, unashamed of his nudity. "Keep your mouth shut and don't play hero," he warned. "That ain't in that blood you claim to have." 

I didn't give him a response, instead watching as he kicked the front doors open, leaving them that way as he disappeared into the night. 

A sputtering sound came from Aldous, a weak gasp for air that only sucked down bubbles of blood. My attention was on him now, staring down at the body on the floor. 

His throat had been torn open, a river of red streaming from that wound. Four, round holes scored his chest, likely from the beast's claws. Despite it all, Aldous' chest still rose and fell in a strained rhythm. 

My throat tightened in a now familiar hunger. I fought against it, but in the presence of this, it was a formidable urge. "Aldous?" I choked around the constriction. 

"Help," came his muffled reply. I had no clue what to do now, I'd only thought to save the innkeeper, not heal him. Shit. I wished then that Galan were back, even if it meant he was yelling at me for being an idiot. 

Lowering to my knees beside him, I reached a hand out to touch him before quickly yanking it back to my side. It'd been proven to me before that I had no control over myself when it came to certain desires. I didn't want to hurt Aldous any more than he currently was. 

"What do I do?" I asked him desperately, eyes scouring over him. Now that I was closer and inspecting him, I could tell multiple bones had been broken in his fall. 

His arm was bent at an unnatural angle, his chest sunken in and broken where the beast had laid itself. "Your blood," Aldous coughed, spitting blood from pale lips. "Give me your blood," he rasped, exposing stained red teeth. 

Don't.

The thought, or voice, was so strong it rocked me back, away from the innkeeper. It'd sounded like it'd been screamed into my ears, jarring me. 

My mind spun as my eyes landed back on his face. I couldn't. 

This blood wasn't a gift to give lightly. At his age, I imagined his life as one of me, a terrible, lonely one. "I can't do that," I told him, sounding as sorry as I could. 

"You're right," he said, his face pinching in pain. "Just kill me," he coughed again, spewing more blood that ran down his chin in rivets. 

My eyes widened, leaning back on my heels. "Please," he whined to me, his head rolling to the side to look at me. 

"Don't look so damn conflicted," he joked, then winced once more. "I know you want to, vampire." 

"Aldous," I said, because that was all I could say. 

"What kind of damn fledgling are you?" He groaned, a wave of pain visibly rocking through his body. "Do it," he pleaded. "Don't make a man beg for his death like this." 

Collecting myself, I leaned over him, assessing where I could bite him. His neck was an absolute mess, leaving very little to be savory. 

What felt like acid bubbled in my stomach, giving life to that deep, awful hunger. Was it ever satisfied? How often would I have to do this? Although, Aldous had offered himself willingly. 

A vein pulsed in his neck, just beneath his jaw, almost hidden by his beard. The sight sparked the waiting ember within me, and that same, burning craze swept over me instantly. It rooted itself in every nook and cranny of my mind and body, and no longer was I Claudia. 

I was darkness. I was pain, merciful and cruel, and everything in between. I was Death.

I met no resistance, neither from Aldous nor his skin, when I descended upon him, sharp teeth sinking into that vein. Bliss, weak but steady, poured into my mouth, quenching a thirst I hadn't known existed. 

A whimpering groan tumbled from his lips, shaking fingers lifting to hover beside my face. He said nothing, nor did he fight me, as I drank his life. 

There wasn't much left in him to offer, and I knew this time when he'd died. With my chest against his, I'd felt his last breath and the final beat of his heart. 

I'd stolen his rhythm just as I'd stolen the sell-sword's. Isaac and Aldous. 

I could feel myself fighting to come back, clawing back into my veins. It felt like spreading warmth, reaching head to toes. 

You survive on the living, not the dead. 

Galan's angry voice came to mind the moment I had control over myself, still clutching the dead innkeeper, teeth in his neck. I released him immediately, my head flying back. 

His eyes were closed, peaceful, almost serene despite the pool of gore his body rested in. My mind felt like it was spinning while I sat there and stared at him. 

I was empty now. 

Nothing stirred in me. I was an emotionless, hollow being. 

My heart beat echoed through me, ringing in my ears. It was steady once more, and I could feel the blood that ran through my veins. 

I wasn't sure why, but I thought of my child then. Listening to a heartbeat that should've been theirs. 

The reminder actually crushed me, mouth opening to suck in a sharp breath. This didn't belong to me. None of it should've been mine. 

Acute pain punctured my chest, and I looked down, expecting a wound. Nothing was there, but the pain was certainly real. 

Something splattered against the back of my hand, still held above Aldous' body. My eyes were drawn to it immediately, unfocused eyes slowly taking it in. 

A single drop of blood had landed on my hand, perfectly round. A moment later, another landed beside it. 

Brows furrowing, I looked up and found nothing. My hand lifted to my cheek, and there I felt a small stream of wetness, running down from my eye. 

I was crying? And it was blood, at that. 

Was it even normal for a vampyr to cry? Was I supposed to feel, to hurt? 

Now that I knew they were there, I could feel fresh tears rolling down my cheeks, combining underneath my chin. Drip.

Blood I'd taken, life I'd consumed, wasted on tears. 

Not wasted. I pushed out the idea I was throwing away anything. This was important; to feel, to hurt. I wanted it, despite it all. 

Reality came crashing back in what felt like a small eternity later. I felt lucid, elated as if I'd been drugged. I rose to my feet, finding it hard to look away from Aldous. 

What more could I have done for him? 

I'd given him a faster death, and hopefully less painful. An aching throb burst within me, anger in its nature. I was at war with myself, and the vampyr didn't enjoy losing.

I'd begun to compartmentalize this new part of me as a separate entity, something that just existed with me. I knew that it was wishful thinking. I knew, deep down, this was me. The vampyr was as much me as the human side I still clung to.

And just as I fought against the vampyr, it fought against the human. 

My feet stumbled beneath me, nearly falling over myself as I left Aldous in the main room and back into the hallways. I was dizzy, mind reeling with questions, regret, and absolute pleasure, still tasting the man's blood.

I knew all of them had heard, and all knew what had occurred. But yet, it remained completely silent, not even a door cracked to get a glance. None of them cared. 

Why did I care? Why did it matter to me that I was the only one who'd left their room? 

I wanted to care, but I also didn't. I had the feeling that this sympathy wasn't normal for my kind. 

Ascelin, take it back. I never wanted to be a vampyr. 

I would've preferred to die with my child, if there was never an option for them to live. I could still only remember bits of that cave and the words I'd shared with a God, but it stung my heart like a fresh wound. 

This was what I'd been wanting. The misery, fraught despair; ultimately, pain. Motherly pain. 

"Shit," I said aloud, stumbling as if I were drunk. One hand pressed against the wall, I steadied myself before continuing on. What was I even doing? 

I'd taken another life- an important one, my gut told me. What would happen when someone discovered him? There wasn't a chance they'd believe a vampyr, or vampire in their accent. 

Vampyr, vampire. That's what I was, and I had to keep reminding myself. 

I wanted to hope that there was a God I could pray to other than Ascelin, but the weight of reality was dawning on me. There was nothing but Death. 

Leaning against the corner connecting one hallway to the next, I reeled my focus back on what was in front of me. 

My door was still adjacent, my room left untouched in my absence. Dead silence soaked the inn, heavy in its tone. 

Do I go? Or stay? 

Galan had said he'd come back for me in three days, yet he wasn't here. I'll come back for you, his voice repeated in my mind. 

Bullshit, I told myself. He wasn't coming back unless Ascelin commanded him to, which I doubted deeply. 

Steeling myself and tucking those emotions back, I entered my room, eyeing it carefully for anything out of place. There was no light in my room, especially in the middle of night, but my change had altered more than my heart. 

I could see through thick black such as this effortlessly. Well, I supposed it was necessary if we were creatures of the night. 

The previous resident in this room had left a cloth sack underneath the bed, kicked back into the corner. I used that to stuff away the purple gown, before regretfully slipping the shoes on. 

Galan's cloak caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Take it. 

He wasn't coming back anyways. 

It fit the same as it had before, covering my body from shoulders to mid-calf. The sleeves I chose to roll up, for easier movement. 

It'd taken less than a minute, but I was ready to leave. I was still hesitant, second-guessing my judgment of Galan, forcing myself to physically leave. 

With another glance over my shoulder, as if I could've missed anything, I entered back into the hallway, closing the door behind me. 

Now I just had to figure out where to go from here.