Nothing but tartare from now on

Posted: January 30, 2011 by writingsprint in Fantasy, postaday2011, postaweek2011, Writing
Tags: , ,

Continuing the theme of what I would be like if I woke up infected with vampirism

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Nothing. You’re not nearly as much fun as a vampire as I thought you would be.”

Then he was gone. With that sense of knowing that you get when you’re having a dream, I knew that he had walked away towards the middle of the city. I didn’t see it happen, but I just knew.

That was what it felt like. Dreaming. A bad dream, in some ways worse than the ones where you’re about to get eaten by the zombies. This time, I was the predator. Everyone I walked past looked like a tasty morsel. I could see the warmth coming off their bodies, especially in the winter cold. As I walked past people, I tasted the salty taste of raw meat and felt the wet taste of salivating. My fangs started to sharpen. Oh God.

I locked myself in my house and called in sick from work. Then I went upstairs and sat down in a corner in my bedroom with my arms tight around my body. I was getting hungry. It felt like there was something crawling around inside my stomach. A hole inside me was widening.

I had raw steak in the house, and raw chicken. I ate them both. First the steak. The meat was good, but the blood was better. It tasted like shit but it was shit that I needed. I knew it instantly. I did a bike tour once, and at the end of the first day they gave us a spaghetti dinner so that we could restore our carbs and be ready for the second day. Pasta never smelled so good, and I had to fight to keep from shoveling it right into my mouth. Same thing. The blood tasted good, and halfway through I lost patience with having to eat meat to get it. I lost control, squeezed the blood out of the steak like I was wringing a washcloth and licked it off the plate and my fingers. Then I wolfed the steak down.

I went into the bathroom by the kitchen to clean myself off. I looked at myself in the mirror. My heart skipped a beat. Yes, I could still see myself. But I know why vampires hate mirrors. They don’t like what they see. I saw a dead man. The heart was still beating and the brain was still working, but I could see the infection crawling through my body like ants crawling through dirt.


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