Limerence (26 page)

The smell hits me first. Hard.

I sag and nearly fall over with the force of it. Leaning against the side of the closest building, I notice it’s the old gym. It’s at the far side of the college, set away from the new teaching areas. It’s not been used in years, and is waiting to be demolished. A new, better-equipped one has been built closer to the main college area.

My nose twitches wildly whilst I raise my chin in the air, moving my head from side to side to get a better sense of which direction it comes from. I need whatever it is that’s causing that wonderful, enticing smell. My mouth waters profusely with every breath.

Left.
I take a step, all other thoughts lost to me. A breeze washes over my face.
Wait
—
no, right.

I follow the smell. My feet move beneath me without waiting for my request to do so. It’s like they know which way is the best way to go. Like they know what is good for me and what is not. The smell comes from the parking lot. My steps get brisker the closer I get to the source. I raise my head again every now and then to track the scent. It pulls me towards it, luring me, enticing me, my stomach groaning, my throat throbbing, until…

There it is: the smell. I gasp. The cause of my hunger stands a few feet from me.

Humans.

What seems like hundreds of them. The corners of my mouth turn up as a slow smile spreads across my face. I lick my lips in anticipation. I can practically feel the blood rushing through them all, hot and fulfilling. Their auras hum and glow around them, mingling upon contact with each other. A handshake, a hug, the bump of a shoulder. Their colours collide in what looks to be a spontaneous and frenzied firework show, and I am in heaven as I stand and stare.

My fangs unsheathe themselves and my stomach creases in expectancy. A
thump, thump, thump
echoes in my mind, the echo of each and every one of their heartbeats. I growl and then jump at my own noise. A thirst is resonating from deep within me, my hunger ever growing. I cannot control it. I am lost to it as it swallows me whole.

May God help you all.
My eyes fill with blood tears and shame. It is time…

…I run fast, my feet stumbling over themselves in their eagerness to get to the first human. I grab the first person I come in contact with, a man—a boy, really. My nails drive into his throat, blood and gore spurting out and hitting my face. I snap his head to one side, feeling his neck bones crack beneath my hands before he can even scream out. My teeth rip into his throat. The flesh tears easily and comes away in my mouth. I spit it out and suck the blood from its core. The blood pumps up and out of the hole, a volcano of it erupting. My mouth does not quite cover the hole I have made. It splashes over me and coats everything in its thick, magical life source. I heave the body aside when I hear the screaming begin around me. I feel my eyes aglow as the fresh blood hits me hard and the excitement of the hunt begins.

It’s carnage as I drink from as many as I can find, as many as I can catch, before the smell of so much spilled blood pulls me back to my nucleus point. The screams die down as the bodies pile up, and I finally sit amongst them all, exhausted. I pull each dried-out body to my lips as I attempt to suckle every last drop free from it. I toss each one away once it provides me with no more nourishment, listening to the shatter of their bones as they crash against the floor. The snapping and cracking of legs and arms reminds me of the sound wood makes when burning in a fire. I break another neck in my hands, prying the flesh open and lapping at the essence as it drips out, as the life left the terrified eyes of the man, the woman, the teenager, my humanity goes with it. And I don’t care…

…I shake my head to clear my reverie. My feet move forward and I round the bend fully, swallowing down my bile as I watch them all, unaware of the horror that they are about to encounter.

This is it. Give in to it…it’s inevitable,
my inner voice pants at me.
Breathe, just breathe, Mia.
I try and take a steadying breath before realising I don’t need to breathe anymore so the action won’t do anything to help me. A sob bubbles from my lips.
I want it. I want all of it.
I can almost see the blood beneath their skin.

I pause in my animalistic need to feed when a familiar face catches my eye. I know her. I squint into the glaring sun, her aura yellow and bright.

Rachael.

My hand covers my mouth when I try to shout for her, stifling my cry of surprise. How can this be? Mr San said that she was dead
.
I shake with rage, my skin bristling as I realise that he lied to me.
Does no one tell the truth anymore!

The scenes that I have just been musing over play out in my mind’s eye. The nightmare thoughts that I have just imagined doing—wanted to do with all of my body. I wanted to kill those people. I saw it and the very thought made me hungry.

The bodies.

The blood.

Oh god, there was so much blood.
I tremble at the thought of what I was just contemplating doing, grateful that I saw Rachael when I did and stopped myself.

I watch her as she passes by, oblivious to me. She looks deep in her own thoughts, pale, sick-looking almost, and so thin. Even thinner than the last time I had seen her. I wonder if Mr San has lied to me over my parents being dead. I can’t stop myself saying a small prayer to God that he has, not even knowing whether God listens to my kind, but anything is worth a try to save them.

Rachael goes around a building, probably heading towards her car. I want to go to her and tell her everything that has happened, let her know that I am okay. I lick my lips at the thought of her—her blood, and cower away from her in shame.

I can’t see her; I can’t trust myself around her, around anyone, not yet. Mr San didn’t lie to me about that. The hunger is getting too strong to deny my body. I need to move. I need to go somewhere that won’t smell as good as this place, somewhere that the blood won’t be as pure as this. Somewhere that Mr San and Mr Breckt won’t think to look for me.

I search my brain for inspiration and come up with a place. I quickly move around the backs of the buildings, away from the people, the humans, and to the forest area beyond. I know just the place to go.

*

The room is dirty through years of neglect, filthy to my sensitive eyes. I try not to think about it. That’s the reason I’ve picked this place: neither man would ever think to look for me here. Mr Breckt would not—could not—bring himself to come to a place like this. Hopefully, my scent will be masked by the years of comings and goings, so that Mr San can’t track me.

I can hear, with no willing attempt at all, the people in the room next door, and I grimace. My powers are growing stronger. I’m not sure if these are in fact powers, or are just part of being a vampire. There is no hand book to explain anything to me and no one that I can trust.

Next door is a man and woman. I can sense his thoughts, the things that he wants to do to the woman. All the disgusting, vile things that his wife won’t let him do to her. His heart beats loudly in his chest, impatient to get started. I try to block out the thoughts, but it’s damn near impossible as they invade my mind. The woman is in front of him, slowly peeling her clothes away. She smiles, ready to please him, but her heart does not beat as fast as his. No, her mind is thinking about other things—definitely not the man in front of her, ready and eager.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady myself. I need to block out all my senses, block out everything and everyone coming from the motel rooms around me. It’s almost as if they are in the same room with me, every sound and sensation caressing me. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

I lean back against the wall whilst I try to close everything off around me, trapping all my senses inside an imaginary black box. Just as I’m closing the lid on all the sensations, the thoughts from the man from next door flood me again, and I stumble under the force of them.

He’s panting, begging the woman to hurry up.

‘Your moneys on the side, now get those off.’
Jesus, his words are in the room with me.

I shudder. This can’t be happening. My stomach turns, although it’s a mixture of both hunger and disgust. His blood is pulsing through him, delving through his veins, and I can’t help but lick my lips as my mouth waters eagerly.

My stomach wrenches stronger, like I’ve been kicked. The strength of it makes me hug my arms around myself more. The hunger is growing. I take another steadying breath—habit, not a need. Leaning my back against the wall by the window, I feel the sun burning into the bricks behind me, heat pulsing into my back. I sense the man next door, I sense his heat and his eagerness, and I feel the revolting thoughts rushing through him as he holds the woman on top of him with a sneer. She grimaces at the feel of his sweaty hands, groping and pawing at her, though she smiles at him in encouragement. My stomach lurches pity for her.

I want to help her, to put her out of this misery. I could smash through the door, with its feeble locks, and snap his neck. Her eyes will widen in horror, but I will drain her before she has to consider that this is her end. Her lifeblood will drench my arid throat, and when I am finished, I will drain his dead body too. I whimper and cover my face at my wicked thoughts.

My eyes are clouding. I’m losing my already tentative grip on reality. The blood lust is growing stronger again. The feeling I have inside makes me hurt, my stomach aching for the blood. I try to steady myself, to gain control. I picture Rachael, her face so lost and sad. I picture my Mum and Dad, and the lust recedes further. I see Oliver, and feel anger. I have to control myself. I have to have vengeance for him. I close my eyes slowly, and as the last slither of light is vanishing, a scent stronger than anything wafts to me. My eyes shoot back open.

I hear footsteps in the hallway. Steps so light no one else could hear them—but me with my sensitive hearing. I know it isn’t Mr Breckt. I know it isn’t Mr San. However, fear still sounds like an alarm bell inside me.

I stay frozen to the spot, afraid to move.I can feel so many emotions surging through me,so many coming towards me form this other person, but I cannot grasp on to any of them. They are in turmoil, this other person—vampire, I realise. Anger, resentment, love: all come towards me, but I don’t fear it anymore. I know under no uncertain terms that this is the moment my life has been leading towards. That everything will make sense if I just stand and wait.

The last of the blood from my previous feed rushes around my body, and I try to calm myself, to not burn off the last of its energy. I try to focus, but it’s useless. It’s as if my body knows what my mind cannot yet comprehend, and is almost giddy.

The steps stop outside the door. I can almost feel the smile on his mouth.
His mouth? How do I know it’s a he?

My eyes narrow as I watch the door in confusion.

There is something
familiar
about ‘him’
.
Fear and curiosity bounce around inside me, sending shock waves to my stomach. My hunger ignites as I think about my stomach. Then I sense all too clearly the room next door again, my eyes drifting to the wall between me and my meal. The man is dressing quickly, a snarl on his mouth. He’s disgusted with himself for his betrayal to his wife yet again. The woman’s thoughts are cold and uncaring; only his money will satisfy her.

My eyes shoot back to my own door as whoever is on the other side
tries the handle. He
can feel me waiting for him. He
turns the knob way past the point needed, and snaps the lock in its place, pushing the door open to reveal himself, and I gasp.

Tears spring to my eyes, as this hallucination comes forward, this new torment to break me of every last thread of hope I have. I sob, my hand covering my mouth.

“Oliver.” I choke out the word, a strangled sob following closely behind. My skin prickles with the intensity and need to touch him, to make sure that he is real. I reach a hand out tentatively and then withdraw it back as he comes closer, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I look at him, my eyebrows furrowing. He moves with such grace. He’s my Ollie, but different. His shoulders are broader, stronger somehow. His face is more chiselled, more handsome than is humanly possible.

That’s the point though, isn’t it. He’s a mirage, a figment of my imagination. I’ve finally slipped over the edge into insanity.
Surely, it must be one of these things, for he can’t surely be here. I was told he was dead, I
felt
it in the very core of my being.

His eyes blaze with lust as he looks me over, taking in every inch of me as though he can see every part of me through every layer of clothing that I wear.

“Mia.” He speaks my name tentatively, his voice husky and his breathing ragged. His aura shifts around him as he comes close, embracing us both and swallowing us whole.

Oliver reaches out for me. His fingers slide along my arm, my skin quivering under his touch. Sparks shoot between us as we connect. A fizz, and a pop, as electricity and heat explode between us. He smiles wider still.