Path of the Vampire forum

((Sorry for the wait. School started back up so I've been busy. I decided just to keep the setting as is.))

Anjyil was only vaguely aware of being carried a short distance away and then laid down in a new place. She was unaware that the surface she leaned against was the man's knees or that liquid that spilled into her mouth was his blood. Without thought, she drank the blood given to her. Once the man brought his wrist away from her mouth, she swallowed the last bit.

As time ticked by, the girl slowly became more conscious of her surrounding. Her eyes fluttered open and all she saw was the dark wall in front of her. As her eyes began to focus, she looked around and wiped her mouth. She looked down at her hand and saw blood.

"Wh...what?" she whispered.

Then she noticed that she was leaning against someone. She darted away from the person and didin't look back till there was good amount of space between them. Through the darkness, she was able to make out the person. It was the man from the pub.

She looked from him, to the blood on her hand, and back. She tried to speak, but no words came.

She had to think. Okay, she left the pub and started to head home. She got lost and.....was she attacked? It all a bit blurry, but she remembered that man found her on the cold ground. What was going on now? What more will she endure tonight? Or, she hoped, was it all over and the man would explain what he knows as he showed her the way home?

This was all too much. Tears filled her eyes, but she wiped them away. She had to stay calm and she had to get home.

"Uh...what happened? Is it all over?"

She so desperately hoped so.

There was something profound in the act of turning another human being into a vampire. For Elliot, it wasn’t something to be envied. It wasn’t something someone should crave. It wasn’t some life-affirming rite of passage or ritual—not that he has any experience in giving birth, but he knew, instinctually, that this was nothing at all like giving birth. Although the girl took his blood—although there was a light shimmering of the soul, a tug, as of a stone thrown into the middle of a still pond, the slow but sure forming of a bond that could never be broken, Elliot could not be happy. He cursed himself for his foolishness. He should have stayed at the pub. And he’d have been none the wiser. He could have been blissfully ignorant of the fate of this girl. He had this sick feeling in his gut that she might prefer death to this life. And he’d just made a grievous error.

It wasn’t long before the girl’s eyes fluttered open and she was launching herself away from him. Fair enough—although they’d had a pleasant conversation, he was still a complete stranger to her. It was in her best interest to keep her distance from strangers.

What Elliot found odd, however, was how easy the transition seemed to be. His mouth was dry as he watched the girl, completely silent for a few seconds as he tried to come to terms. She hadn’t suffered at all, unless that was still to come. Or maybe—and there was a vain, near non-existent hope—that she was born to be turned. That her body took to vampirism with all the ease of fresh paint applied to a smooth wall. He licked his lips, and nodded.

”Yeah, it’s over,” he said, though he also cringed. In a manner of speaking, it was over. She’d died. That was the unfortunate outcome. That was how it had ended. That was why it was now over. But she’d been brought back to life—and in that aspect, it wasn’t over at all. It had just begun. This was always the hardest part. How to continue? How to explain to her exactly what had happened and that she couldn’t actually go home?

”You should come with me. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re… going to be different, now. I’m so sorry, but…you’d have died otherwise. And I hope… I hope death isn’t something you’d have preferred,” he said, voice low and baritone, words rolling from his tongue in his affected Australian accent; he sent a wave of calming vibes toward the girl, hoping that she wouldn’t freak out too much.

”What’s your name?”

Come with him? Anjyil was known for doing reckless things, but shouldn't this be where she draws the line? This very night was full of her own stupidity, doing things she knew she shouldn't do. She didn't even have a good reason why she left the house so late at in the first place. She could have easily have handled her sister's questions if she left during the day yet she chose the wrong path. She knew from the beginning that this was bad. So why did she do this?

The man said she was different. She didn't understand it. How could she have changed in the time she had been unconscious? What he said made no sense, but he seemed sincere about not hurting her. How can she trust him though, a guy she only talked to a brief moment a couple hours ago? Anjyil has had trust issues and though she's been trying fix that, now was not the time to to blindly trust anyone. Still....he did seem like a good person and she did want answers.

She was silent as all the thoughts raced through her head, but still answered the man on time, if not a beat too late.

"Aimi. Aimi Kirkland, but people call me Anjyil. Um...what's your name, sir?"

Elliot was still watching the girl for any untoward signs. The bond was there—she had been transformed. But nothing…she seemed to not notice a difference at all. Maybe it had something to do with her path, whichever one she had ended up on. But he remembered when he’d been turned—he woke with a blinding headache, and a thirst so deep and demanding that he couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t think past it. Maybe… maybe they’d have to wait until the next night, before there was a full affect. And why should he be complaining, anyway? An easy transition was a good transition. But it would only make it harder to convince her of what’s happened. That she’s no longer human.

”Elliot Lancaster…d’Artois,” he said, the second last name tripping from his tongue like an afterthought. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud to have claimed it—the name of his sire, of the woman he loved. It was just that he wasn’t too used to it yet, even though it had been about a year. Maybe more. And so he continued to give both. He was proud of who he was, who he still is deep down. But he also wanted to be proud of who he could become. And that would never happen… not if he kept turning people like this.

”Aimi. I like Aimi. Look… what do you remember?” he asked. The girl hadn’t moved. It was obvious she was reluctant to go with him. Although it was a conversation that he’d have preferred to have elsewhere, if he had to convince her, then and there, that she could trust him, then so be it. Maybe she never would trust him. Maybe she would come to look upon with disdain, like most other people seemed to do. They thought him weak, because he cared.

”How are you feeling…?” he asked, still sitting on the ground in front of her. He remained at her level, so as not to startle her. He treated her like he might a wild, timid animal. There were so many ways this could go, and he had to tread carefully.

It was strange for Anjyil to hear Mr. d'Artois call her by her real name. It's been a long time since anyone outside of her family called her Aimi. Part of her wanted to insist that he call her Anjyil, but hearing her name from the stranger was a bit nostalgic for her. It reminded her of the days when she was little, before her nickname was given to her by her old friend.

" I feel...better than I could be, considering the circumstances." Anjyil did feel strange, to say the least, and she did have a headache, but she wasn't the type of person to complain about such things. If she had learned anything in her life, it was that people didn't care at all or cared enough to get upset on things. She hasn't been honest about these types of things in so long because she was afraid that she'd bother people or upset them. It has always been easier to smile and pretend she's fine, even when she's not. The more she thought about it though, the more she felt that she should tell. The headache started to worry her. The everlasting pound made her wonder if she had hit her head at some point. Did she have a concussion? She knew it'd be smarter to tell him about it. "I do have a headache though. Did I hit my head at some point?"

Anjyil realized they were still sitting on the concrete. She felt bad that the man was sitting there because of her. The ground surely wasn't comfortable after all.

She carefully stood up, knowing he would too.

"Mr. d'Artois, things are a bit...blurry for me. I remember leaving the pub and getting lost. From there, it gets even harder to remember, but...I think I was attacked by someone and you found me on the sidewalk. Now I know I'm missing something here," her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. She hates crying and has for a long time."So just please tell me what I don't know."

Anjyil had tried to be calm throughout this, but she couldn't any longer. Whatever happened was serious and she was scared. She just wanted to run to her sister, admit what she did, and beg for forgiveness. She wanted her sister to comfort her. Even if she grounded her or was cross with her, as long as she was home in her big sister's arms, she didn't care.

It always came down to this. And why did Elliot think it would ever be any different? Of course, it depended on the circumstances. Those who chose this life, like Reilly and Asteria, knew exactly what they were in for. There was no awkward conversation later about how they were now a vampire. No laughter, and no cruelty as Elliot went about proving it to them. Because that’s what he thought it was—in order to have them actually believe him, and not assume he was some kind of nutjob, he had to go through the motions. Had to help them understand that they were hurting because they were thirsty. Had to draw blood, from someone, somewhere, to lure out that instinct to feed that would suddenly spring to life within them. He grimaced—an expression that he tried to turn into a smile.

”It’s Elliot, please. I don’t deserve the respect owed to a ‘mister’,” he mumbled. There was a voice, deep down, that scolded him. He had to quit being so hard on himself. Had to suck it up and get on with it—it wasn’t his fault that the girl was attacked by someone else. Wasn’t his fault that she was lying dead on the pavement, even if he could have stopped her. In the grand scheme of things, he didn’t know her from boo. Why should he have stopped her walking home on her own? He couldn’t save everyone. Was certain that he didn’t save everyone. Was glad that he couldn’t save everyone. Because this, surely, would always be the result. Some poor girl, now, who he would have to teach—who he would hope could adjust to the violent life he’d introduced her to.

With a sigh, Elliot glanced toward the street; it seemed so promising out there, with the street lights lighting up the quietness. Like a whole other world existed where these kinds of awkward and life-changing situations never happened. He wished, in that moment, that everything could be easy. Never mind that easy would make life boring. In that moment, he didn’t care. He’d prefer boredom over this.

He swept the hair from his with the heel of his hand. Flakes of dried blood fluttered down in front of his face. He dropped his hand, subconsciously wiping the skin of his wrist on the thigh of his jeans, to clean the blood away. Finally, he spoke.

”Yes. You’re missing the part where I’m a vampire. I fed you my blood so that you wouldn’t die. And now here you are—a vampire too. You’ve got a headache because your human body has died—has been replaced by that of a vampire’s body. Stronger, more agile, able to heal. And that headache is a sign of dehydration, kind of. You’re probably hungry, right? But it’s not hunger. Not really. It’s thirst. And I’m so sorry… but your only meal from here until the edge of eternity is going to be blood,” he explained, the words falling from him in a rush, though he made sure to enunciate, to not mumble. To get in the very bare basics, at least. He continued before Ami could interrupt.

”Now, I know you’re going to think I’m nuts. But I need you to not, okay? Just wait, stay with me until I can prove it to you,” he said, voice soft like flowing silver, hoping to persuade her, to convince her, to comfort her in that way that all Allurists seemed to have. He really needed her to trust him—and he did not move, did not reach out to touch her, did not do anything to harm any trust she might already have.

Anjyil wiped her eyes and just stared at the ground. He was serious, she knew it, but this was so...impossible. There was a time that she did believe things like this though, back when she small and naive. She had been too trusting of others and that always got her hurt. Her former gullibility was eventually replaced by a bit of skepticism as she grew up. She never liked to think poorly of others, but yet she has grown distrustful of them. The people around her, other than her old friend, have done nothing but lie and use her her entire life. Even her sweet sister had a side that was just like the rest. She can't trust this man. Surely he's just like the rest.

She took a step back and closed her eyes. No, he's bad. He's just like the rest of them. Then her old friend came to mind and she shook her head. Nate had been good to her. He wasn't like the others. He was honest and good-hearted. He may not be here now, but he lived once. He had existed. Who's to say that there's not one in this world like him? Someone honest and true. Someone not there to make fun of her or to tear her down. She had to believe that and that made her want to take this chance. The thought of now being a vampire scared her, but even if it seems so unreal, shouldn't she take the opportunity to make sure? This man...he wouldn't randomly tease a poor girl to this extent, would he? Mr. d'Artois, or rather, Elliot, seemed like a good man. He did save her after all. She is alive now because of him. The least she could do was wait with him and give him a chance to prove his words and if he ends up like the rest of them then she'd keep searching. For proof that the last good person didn't drown that day five years ago. That there are more people with hearts like his. She has to take this chance. She can't close herself off forever in fear of others.

She opened her eyes, but kept her gaze away from the man.

"You're too hard on yourself...Elliot. I'll give you this one chance."

Whether all this was a hoax or not, she was determined to be brave through this and face it. Even if the man was just messing with her, she will move forward from this, hopefully for the better. For now though, she will not think of the future. She'll handle the present, then decide what to do with her future. Vampire or not.

Elliot could not help but watch the girl warily. Although she took enough time to respond, he wasn’t sure that she’d heard him correctly. There was no laughter, no incredulity, no horror at what he’d admitted to her. That she was a vampire. And that he’d been the one to do it to her. The way she answered, it was as if he was just a stranger who’d knocked her on her backside, and was reprimanding himself above and beyond what was necessary. As if all he’d done was muddy her clothes and give an accidental bruise. He took only half an unneeded breath, his voice stuck in his throat—it took a couple of seconds for him to absorb the little that she had said in response. The thickness of his eyebrows furrowed into the centre of his forehead in a steady, heavy frown.

He assumed, in the end, that the girl must be afraid of him. That she was only agreeing to his terms because, perhaps, should she do as she was told she would she would be set free, afterwards. As soon as Elliot was proved wrong, as soon as she could laugh at him for ever suggesting he was a vampire to begin with, then she’d be able to walk away and claim this as just a misshapen adventure.

”I’ll be as hard on myself as I want to be. No one else does it for me, and it’s what I deserve,” Elliot mumbled. It had always been the way. Elliot was less hard on himself these days than he once was, but everyone deserved a little humbling every now and again, and Elliot was not slack. He’d humble himself, and others too, if they deserved it.

”Okay. Ah. You’ll probably want to get back to your sister—tell her you’re staying with a friend, or something. It’s not a good idea to go home. You’ll start to feel hungry, soon. And it’s not going to be food. You’ll only be a danger to your sister,” Elliot said, perhaps a little too blunt and honest, but time was of the essence. There were things Anjyil would need to know that Elliot was reluctant to show her—but he would, because it was required for her survival.

”C’mon,” he said, starting to lead the way out of the alcove, pushing stressed fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. ”There are things you need to know, and better sooner than later.”

Danger to Val. Her mood fired up. Such a horrible joke. How the heck is her sister's safety, or lack of, funny to anyone? She's always quietly took it would people would mess with her, but when they brought her sister into it, she's never reserved with her feelings and words. She looked over to Elliot, no longer scared.

"This better not be a joke." She said curtly. "I don't find danger to my sister funny. She's the only family I have. Now, I'll treat this seriously till you 'prove' I'm what you say I am so this can be over and done with."

She took her phone out and texted her sister as she followed the man.

Heyy I have stay at Becca's for a while. She's more heart broken about what happened with Danny than I thought. I'm staying for as long as she needs me.

Since Val was probably asleep by now, she slid her phone back into her pocket. Her sister probably won't message her back till morning. Anjyil's heart started to ache. How many times will she have to lie to her sister in one night? How long will she have to deceive the only person left that cares about her, that loves her? Even before the car accident, all she had was her sister. Before she moved out, her sister was the one who took care of her and their brother because even while alive, their parents couldn't. The when she moved out, Val still called her little siblings, talking with Anjyil the most. Since the crash, Val has put Anjyil first. Always. Val cried the day it happened, but since then has stayed strong so for Anjyil. And now look what she's done. How long till it blows up in her face and Val finds out? What's been happening tonight is too big to cover up forever, yet she knew couldn't tell her sister. She stared into space as her anger melted into guilt.

With her anger was gone, Anjyil felt tired. She sighed.

"Where are we going?"

Elliot heard Anjyil’s words as if they were a physical knife in the heart. Saying that her sister was the only family she had—and here was Elliot, warning her to stay away. And he would suggest in the future, too, that she sever all ties with whatever family she had left, simply because it was easier to do so. To explain to her family that she was now a vampire? That would be a severe break in masquerade, and though Elliot wasn’t really so keen on the idea of the masquerade given the amount of violence and murder committed in the name of its protection, he knew that if Anjyil wanted to live, if he wanted to keep her safe, he’d have to explain to her the severe consequences of breaking it.

He continued to walk as Anjyil texted her sister; he didn’t respond, didn’t tell her it wasn’t a joke, didn’t plead his case further than he already had. He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, so much shorter than he was, waiting for some outward show of wonderment or … well, anything. Was this something that he just hadn’t experienced before? With every childe his brought into this world, there’d been some kind of reaction. They’d cringed and writhed in pain as the vampiric blood changed them. Or they’d passed out for a whole twenty-four hours. What was consistent, over all of them, was the fact that when they woke up they were overwrought with thirst. All their human blood had been taken from them, and the vampiric blood fed back to them was hardly enough to keep their body satisfied. The monster always wanted for more. In the beginning, that thirst for blood is near blinding.

At least, that’s how Elliot remembered it. He could vividly recall his own turning, the way his head pounded as if his skull had been cracked open, the way his skin felt like leather stretched over too much bone. The itch in his throat felt like living creature, trying to tear itself free. Not only that, but he’d also been overwhelmed by heightened senses. He could see the dust motes as they danced through the air, could see every hair on the moth’s wings as it fluttered around the street light. He’d been able to smell the smallest piece of rotten food from a distance; he could hear whispers carried on the wind, and the touch of the wind itself upon his skin? It had been exhilarating.

And yet here was Anjyil, walking and talking as if nothing had happened. As if she felt as normal now as she ever had before. She asked where they were going, and Elliot had to stop. They were on the sidewalk – a lone stranger walked past, hood raised over blonde hair, hands shoved into pockets, boots scuffing on the cement. She looked like a waitress, on her way home from work. Elliot waited for her to pass before replying.

”We’re going to find someone you can feed on. I need to show you how to feed without killing. And then I’ll show you the shops – where you can buy the blood bags, if you don’t want to feed,” Elliot said. She seemed to be taking all this in stride, so telling it to her straight seemed to be the best option. And maybe… just maybe he was hoping to figure out what, exactly, she felt about this whole ordeal.

”I’ll make sure you have some weapons. Tomorrow night I’ll introduce you to some of the… creatures you’ll encounter, and teach how to use your weapons. You’ll need them, for self defence. Because this city is fucked, and people will want to attack you for no ******* reason,” Elliot said. He didn’t mean to sound irritated, but he had a short temper, and he was anxious.

”How are you feeling? Honestly? Anything?” Elliot asked, too curious to stop his tongue.