Chomp

“And that’s why I quit stalking hefty ladies after ten a.m. Thank you for listening.”

The room filled with a gentle, polite—albeit confused—applause as Duke left the podium and returned to his seat.

“That was… That was an improvement on what you normally share,” Jess began curiously, standing up. She tucked a strand of long black hair behind her ear and looked as though she struggled to find the words—the polite words—to explain herself. “But this meeting was supposed to be about our experiences when we changed.”

Duke shrugged, his large red lumberjack shirt barely holding together around his arms. “Well, it was gory, I guess. You guys ever hear of the Atlanta murders?”

It was a strange group meeting, getting to hear how everyone dealt with the change. The first person on stage was Doris, the elderly woman who had called me out about turf wars on my first visit. She had explained that she never saw the person who changed her, but that he or she had snuck into her house.

Doris looked like she was about seventy years old, but I was sure she would have just found that flattering. She had changed when she was in her seventies, but that had been in 1902. Her husband had long since passed, even before the change, and in that, she was lucky.

Her postman had been less so.

As Duke went on to explain his change, he hadn’t been much either. The Atlanta murders had been almost fifty years ago, long before my time, but still well-known across the continent.

Everyone seemed to have an interesting story, a new perspective on it—like how they found out what had happened to them—as well as a sense of familiarity. Every single story seemed to mention them looking in a mirror or feeling their face, realizing it would be kept with them for the rest of their lives.

Everyone except me.

I squirmed a little, listening to what they had to say and drinking in every word as much as possible. All of them mentioned it, even Jess; she looked like your average twenty-something Asian woman, but she was actually older than Doris.

When it came to my turn, I felt like throwing up.

“Come on, Sam. It’s okay,” Jess assured in her soothing tone. A few of the faces in the group smiled encouragingly as well. “We’ve all been through it. We’re all here in solidarity.”

Slowly, I made my way up to the podium. There was something unnerving about being up here, regardless of the situation; even if I were a hundred percent normal, I still think I would have dreaded it.

“Well, I don’t really remember it,” I began lamely. There were quite a few raised eyebrows in the crowd that made me hesitate.

“Everyone remembers. How can you possibly forget?” someone said.

Jess whipped around in her seat and shushed them until it was quiet. When she turned back to face me, she wore a knowing smile. “Well, Sam. I know it can be difficult to talk about, especially because you’re so young. Death is a pretty scary thing.”

I blinked. “Death? I don’t…”

She held my gaze for a moment, studying my face long and hard. Finally, she stood up. “Let’s just take a break now, everyone. Drinks and food in the usual spot.”

Duke practically pounced from his seat all the way to the refreshment table. Everyone followed suit in a more practical and organized way, thank goodness.

Jess gestured me over with a waggle of her finger. Glad to be out of the spotlight, I obliged.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked. Again, words weren’t my strong suit. When people were offended or concerned, my inability to properly explain myself was most likely the culprit.

She didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she grabbed my arm and pulled me from the sharing room into the hall, closing the door behind her. “When this all happened to you…” she started, placing her hands on my shoulders. Her actions were a bit unnerving, like she was telling me I had cancer or something. “Did anyone explain anything? About what might happen?”

“Not really,” I answered. “Why would they?”

“I just assumed that if there were two others in the neighbourhood, they might have looked out for you. Told you what happens when you turn someone as young as you.”

I shook my head, still not following her train of thought. “I was alone when my adoptive parents found me. I mean… My other parents were there, but I mean… Not alive or anything.” Jess’s mouth twisted mournfully, but she recovered in record time. Evidently, she and I didn’t share the same laissez faire idea of death.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around me in an awkward hug. My back stiffened under her embrace. “I didn’t know. That must have been really hard for you, Sam.”

She finally released me and gave me a sympathetic look. Her soft features were pulled tightly, like she was truly trying to feel grief that I was giving off. Or something.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “It was years ago.”

It was like a switch had gone off; her reassuring expression changed to a confused and disbelieving one. “Years?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I—yeah. I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember. I don’t…?”

“But you’re…” Jess stopped and scanned me up and down, holding me at arm’s length. My mind was a whirl, unable to connect the dots that she no doubt found very obvious. “Let’s just finish this session, okay? I’m going to be calling your parents after, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure…?” I answered, still very lost. Her new, worried tone was beginning to concern me.

True to her word, Jess had rung them up. I was surprised my mom picked up; couples yoga had a strict no phones policy, and my dad was a huge stickler for rules. After all, if we didn’t follow rules, we ’would be in a constant state of anarchy, made no different by the animals that maim, kill, and torture each other; so Sam, please put your seatbelt on for god’s sake!’

When the two of them left Jess’s office, they both looked just as confused as she had when she spoke to me earlier. Nevertheless, Tanya kissed the top of my head and didn’t mention any word of what they spoke about. Realistically, they probably didn’t say anything; with my ear pressed against the heavy oak door, I had heard breathing, swallowing, and what sounded like writing, but never any words.

Whatever they had discussed, they didn’t want me to know.

Which, of course, only made me more curious.

I waited until we had been driving in the comforting lull of Beethoven from Bryan’s CD to broach the subject. “So… Jess’s nice, isn’t she?” I began, figuring it would be better to start off somewhere only slightly related.

“Very polite girl,” Bryan replied, smiling. He didn’t look back at me, but kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Well—woman, I should say. Gosh darn the patriarchy mutilating our language…”

My hands twitched in my lap, eager to lead the conversation. “Yeah, polite,” I rushed, tapping on my knee. “Definitely.”

Tanya looked over her shoulder at me. “Is that the girl you have a crush on?” she asked curiously. It wasn’t an accusing tone, just merely interested.

I frowned. Why was it always this? “No. Just… What did you guys talk about in there?” If I couldn’t lead them to it, cutting to the chase was probably the best thing.

She turned back into her seat, facing the road. Both her and Bryan remained silent, their blood pounding with what I took for nervousness; she must have texted him the whole thing when she was in Jess’s office.

“Well?” I asked. Whatever it was, I was sure it would be less of a deal than what they were making it out to be.

“Let’s not get into it right now,” Bryan replied finally.

My heart sunk a little, but I wasn’t going to let myself be deterred. “If it was about me, I deserve to know,” I pointed out. It was a logical enough argument, something they both usually accepted.

But as they exchanged a glance, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anger. They didn’t plan on telling me at all.

“Stop the car.”

“Sorry…?” Bryan asked, casting a quick glance over his shoulder before his eyes returned to the road.

“I said, stop the car,” I hissed.

“And just where do you think you’d be going?” Tanya challenged, whipping back around to lecture me. Her usually calm blue eyes were blazing and fierce, the perfect example of an overprotective mother bear. “It’s a school night, young man!”

Bryan’s face paled, but he continued driving, much to my irritation. Tanya rubbed one of his hands that gripped the steering wheel.

“I’ll go back to ask her myself,” I replied stubbornly, putting as much force as I could muster into my voice. It felt a little foreign, but I would be damned if I wasn’t going to know what they had said—especially if they were adamant in keeping it from me.

Bryan yelped when I undid my seatbelt.

“P-P-Put it back on, Sam!” he half screamed. “Ninety percent of car related deaths are from—” His heart pounded, all because of a simple click. He signalled to pull off to the side of the road, sweat beading at the side of his head.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Tanya snapped once we were fully stopped. I had never seen her face as flushed with anger as it was then. Bryan remained silent, his hands shaking. “How ridiculously selfish of you! You know your father is a nervous driver. Just because you wouldn’t get hurt—”

“I’m being selfish? Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!” I spat, throwing my hands in the air.

Tanya flopped back into a sitting position in her seat. She rubbed her temples slowly while letting out a stressful exhale. “If we thought what Jess said was life changing, or even remotely important, we’d tell you. As it stands, it was all moot, so please stop acting like a child.”

“If it’s so unimportant, why not tell me?” I challenged. My nostrils flared and my nails dug into my palms. “Tell me.”

As soon as I growled the command, I wished I hadn’t. Bryan’s face had already been pale, but Tanya’s face drained of blood and she reeled back in fear. Her mouth snapped open while Bryan’s eyes squinted shut.

They were terrified.

It said a lot. They didn’t get scared; they knew me, they—

They were exactly as they had been the first time I met them.

“I’m… so sorry…” I whispered, dropping my eyes from their faces. My heart seemed to twist in my chest, and a lump formed in my throat. I grabbed the handle of the car door and wrenched it open before jumping out.

I padded my way back to the center, cars hissing by me as they drove through the light rain across the highway. Tanya’s door clicked open, and she called after me, but I quickened my pace to a jog.

They shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of attitude, I reminded myself as I splashed through a puddle. An attitude that seemed to come out of nowhere. Sure, I was curious. But the terror in their faces wasn’t worth it.

I pulled my hood up, ignoring the spray of water a large truck sent at me as it passed through a pothole and the sounds of my parents calling after me.

Despite the weather, the streets were fairly crowded. People rushed around this way and that, all of them apparently having to be somewhere important. I passed plenty of shops, their lights spilling into the street, making it seem like daylight.

The strong stench of alcohol hit me like a wall, and I looked up to see a pub with its doors held open. Several men skulked around the entrance; a few held cans in their hands, others lit cigarettes almost inches from my face.

As soon as the lighter hit the end of the stick, it was like someone had shoved a knife up my nose and headed straight for my brain.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, asshole!” the man hollered.

Coughing, eyes stinging, and temporarily scent-blind, I whipped around the first turn I could down an alley off the main road. Whatever the man had been smoking, I noted, sputtering with bitterness, was far more potent than a regular cigarette.

I continued walking, hoping to find another cut through that would put me back on the main street. I hadn’t been here long enough to get my bearings yet, so I was still quite unfamiliar with anything but the main roads.

As I powered through, I realized how isolated the alley was. The buildings adjacent to it were all tall, all able to cancel out a lot of noise. Doris’ words from the first meeting rung in my ears, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart pound.

I tried sniffing the air, but it was no good. My nose felt like it had been singed from the inside.

A muffled scuffling sound caused my back to go rigid. I strained my ears to listen as I felt my fangs get ready to unsheathe. The pounding of my heart trumped all sounds around me, but I was able to listen past it. The sound continued, and reminded me strongly of paws; but it was a biped, not a quadruped, judging by how they sounded.

I shook myself. Of course there would be people walking here; it was a public alley, and for some people, it allowed them access to their homes. Feeling stupid, I resumed my walk, but quicker this time. It was unlikely, considering Doris had probably been pulling my leg, but the last thing I needed was to get into some turf war with someone else like me.

When I finally came to an exit, it wasn’t on the street I had been expecting. The alley must have been on a diagonal, because the main street was nowhere in sight, nor anywhere in my hearing range.

It was unsettling to hear the city this quiet.

The houses seemed all to be part of the same structure, like some strange sideways high rise. This street alone had at least six of them, all with crumbling brick clad in a decade’s worth of grime. Rusty fire escapes lined this side of the street, but I realized the rickety metal stairs were actually the main entrances to the units.

It was the kind of neighbourhood good parents warned their children about, which was why it was odd to see Agnes there.

She first appeared from the corner of my eye, emerging out of another alley and jogging onto the road. She had her usual black attire on, so with the help of such poor street lighting, she would have blended into the night for anyone else. Fortunately, my vision at night bested what I had during the day.

She had a sweater on with the hood up, hiding the bright orange of her hair that would have given her away. Her rosy cheeks huffed as she approached one of the fire escapes with a large backpack slung off of one shoulder.

I was seconds away from calling out her name when she maneuvered her way up like a gymnast scoring a ten. I watched in awe as she cleared six flights of stairs in what should have been twenty minutes.

On the last round up, she missed a bar. The resounding bang as she fell on one of the landings should have been enough to wake the whole neighbourhood.

It was the fresh scent of blood that made me realize my sense of smell returned, though I wish it hadn’t. I ran up the metal stairs as quickly as I could, ignoring the clanging sound and unbalanced swing it made.

When I reached Agnes, she was still conscious; her irate swearing was proof enough that she was okay. She rubbed her back. As she did, the smell of blood became intoxicating.

“Y-You okay?” I asked, almost in a daze. Saliva filled my mouth, and my stomach grumbled, reminding me I had missed dinner.

If Agnes was confused by my presence, she didn’t say anything. Then again, she was probably still in shock. She wiped some sparse hairs away, smearing blood across her forehead. I shoved my tongue against my fang sheathes, forcing them to stay hidden.

“Mother fucker!” she howled, looking down at her hands. She looked back up at me, almost looking offended. “Who the hell just drives nails into bannisters? God, this fucking neighbourhood…”

I grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to her feet. “Hopefully you don’t get tetanus or something,” I murmured, my eyes locked on her hands.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I—It’s from—you can get it from rusty nails if they puncture your skin,” I replied awkwardly. Bryan’s ever-expanding fears had rubbed off on me more than I would have liked.

But if she had found the answer strange, she didn’t say anything. “I’ll be fine once I get inside,” she said, turning. She took a few steps up the metal stairs, and stopped to look back at me. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

I swallowed hard.

For someone as suspicious as Agnes was already, this must have looked pretty terrible. “I actually got lost on my way to the community centre. I thought I was taking a shortcut off Avenue, but…” I answered honestly, pointing back to the alley. “And I saw you, thinking you’d probably know our way around to get me there. Or at least back to the main road.”

Agnes regarded me quizzically, her lips pressed thin and distrusting. “Really, now?” she asked, her voice oozing with sarcasm. She turned back and continued up the stairs, and I watched as her butt swayed back and forth with each step. “Just a fair warning, but I have Holy Blades in my backpack and in my pocket, Sam. If that is your real name.”

It was such a cliché line that I couldn’t help but laugh, albeit nervously. “What the hell is a… a…?”

“Holy Blade? Probably one of the only things in existence that can kill you. And keep you dead, Vampire.”