Her skin translucent, veins within, a road map to her heart. The heart I’ve been cast from. I loom over her, wood stake poised.
Eyes open, burning, upon me.
“Get off.” She flicks me aside, a broken, pathetic mortal.
“Turn me” I plead. “If you love me, turn me.”
“Love? You're weak, timid, afraid. Turning won’t change that.” She stares. Laughing. “You’re good for one thing only.”
She’s upon me, wild, fierce, hungry. Cold fangs pierce warm flesh. An oaken stake intervenes. Startled, eyes wide, her heart stutters, stops. Eyes dim. Blood gushes. I drink.
I am…
Immortal.
Vampire.
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