My Introduction to Death

Bright colors, fancy clothes… So many unknown faces. "Why am I here?" I wondered out loud, moving slowly through the crowd out to the stone balcony. I didn't care for the gaudy attitude the whole ball exuded. It seemed so merry and jovial at a glance, but when in the mix, I just felt like it was a big play and I should have been trying to act important like everybody else in the room.

I was in fact the only man that night who didn't wear anything more that a simple brown suit. No tux for me, thank you. Also, I was apparently the only one out on the balcony, away from the party, or so I thought -

"Athan! Come here, I thought I lost you…"

Shari Spence, my 'date' and the only reason why I was even at that ridiculous ball. Apparently, she knew some city official of Chicago and was invited to attend. What was it for again? A fundraiser? Or was it a charity event? Did it even matter?

"I came to check on you and see how you were," Shari continued, "I knew I would find you out here all by yourself. If you were going to do

this

all night, why did you accept my invite?"

I went along because I had nothing better to do with my evening. She knew it and needed a date in a pinch. It's not like she couldn't get anybody else to go with her; she isn't horrible to look at or anything, with her bright green eyes and her short, bobbed blonde hair. Attractive smile too. She is just charitable, and probably, knowing my habits, wanted to do something nice for me.

Oh well…

"I came along because… uh, well what is thi-" I was going to ask what exactly the ball was for, but Shari cut me off.

"Oh! Uh, well I'll see you in a bit, I just saw an old friend," she said, looking over my shoulder. "Don't get lost again, okay? Go and have fun… talk to people!"

With that, she turned away and ran back inside, apparently after that 'old friend' of hers. I couldn't blame her; I wouldn't really want to mope outside with myself either. So I too made my way back inside.

I found myself at the snack and refreshment bar, which was actually a long table cloaked in white, surrounded by waiters. Feeling only a little thirsty, and more bored than anything, I poured a glassful of punch.

"Egh! It's spiked…" I coughed, after taking a hearty pull from the too-strong alcoholic punch. Shrugging, I tossed the rest back, feeling the warmth tingle its way to my core. Holding the glass, I turned around, gazing at the rest of the party from my post at the bowl of punch.

There wasn't much to look at; just rich people dancing, talking, or arguing with one another. It was all rather ordinary despite the all the flourished of the ball. No matter how you dress them up or where you find them, people are still people and still boring.

And thus the next couple of hours passed: Myself, loitering near the spiked punch gazing at the general crowd without incident. I had become such a fixture there that near the end of it, men and women were approaching me with the expectation I was there to refill his or her drink.

I was watching a woman on the dance floor, feeling almost as if she were dancing for me, when suddenly, and quite sharply, I felt a tug on my sleeve. "Excuse me, but I would like some more punch. Hello?"

To my left, a smaller woman who had obviously been trying to get my attention (for how long I didn't know) was waving a glass at me. She had interrupted my daydream which left me staring, but who was she? Even as I poured the guest's glass, absentmindedly over-filling it, I continued to stare into the crowd, trying to find the woman who held my attention so strongly just a moment before.

I had too much to drink; I couldn't seem to concentrate at all. In the same stupor, I began to drift away from my table-side post into the crowd feeling like I lost something and had to find it.

I saw Shari approach me, worry showing in her eyes. "Athan!" she exclaimed, "Are you okay? You really don't look well."

All I could muster was a grunt in reply, because at that very moment I found myself staring at a dark haired beauty from across the ballroom. I had completely forgotten about Shari, who was calling after me, and started making my way towards this woman when she turned and vanished into the crowd.

That was her! She was the one that held me so entranced earlier, it had to be!

Don't ask me why, but I had to find her. I am normally not the kind of guy that goes chasing after women, in fact, I led a solitary life. I was never married and didn't care for social outings, much less grandiose get-togethers such as the ball.

But this woman – her image, frozen in my mind, had me entranced. I had to find her. So I rushed through the crowd, bumping here and there into faceless faces and nameless bodies. Before long, I spied her starting up the largest set of stairs in the room, disappearing around the corner.

"Shit…" I could have sworn she glanced down at me, just briefly, but I couldn't tell. "Who is she?"

As I made my way up the stairs I could feel my pulse rising, along with the temperature. I had to go so far as to loosen my tie, which was fine; I hate ties anyway. But what was this? Why was it getting so hot?

My head began to get swimmy; I felt ready to pass out drunk by the time I reached the top of the stairs.

"Shit…" I said again. I had just glimpsed her slipping into a room. Now I new something was wrong; I couldn't hear anything, just a faint humming and the beating of my heart, explosive like a cannon in my ears. I couldn't take my eyes off the doorway I was slowly stumbling towards. I don't think I could have stopped myself had I wanted to.

Would I have wanted to stop if I knew that it would mean the death of me to continue? I don't know, and try not to think upon it.

"Its you," I gasped when I tumbled into the room, as if I knew who she was. As if I knew what she was.

All she did was smile, her ruby lips curling at the sides to show me an impossibly white set of teeth. Her deep blue eyes drew me in like a flame does a moth. Before I knew it I was locked in

her

embrace; I had no power over myself to do anything but let her hold me up, buried in her earthy scent, tangled in her velvety black locks, thrown upon her cold, hard frame. How odd it felt.

In a gloriously painful instant I felt the life drain out of me, all at once a liquid fire bleeding from my core. Darkness seemed to flow around me, through me, and a gentle peace quickly took me over.

At that moment I fell in love.

At that moment I died.

Myself, My Story

My name is Athan Briggs. I am your typical nobody, hiding in plain sight. I used to be somewhat of a recluse… Now? I am just dead. I guess you could call me something of a vampire.

However, that title is more of a misnomer than anything else. I am not what Hollywood and modern society would consider a vampire; I can eat regular food, I can sleep and wake whenever I want, day or night. And I live forever. Or, I think I might; I am rather new to this whole "lifestyle;" I have only been dead for one painful month.

I do not have preternatural strength, nor can I fly or read minds. I drink blood, yes… the experience is akin to climaxing all at once all over, a sustained explosion surging through ones whole being, to be frank. And my endurance is amazing; my guess is that since my body's cells are essentially dead, there is nothing to wear and tear. There isn't any way for me to get tired, as if my limbs are propelled by something other than biological functions.

Other than all that, I am still a normal person. Oh, my kind seem to have some sort of persuasive power over humans, some more than others. It depends on the human, but it helps us to hunt, to find an appropriate victim.

So, what am I doing this for? Why am I writing down my memoirs? I honestly don't know. I have this feeling that someday soon I will not be here anymore, permanently this time and I want to leave some piece of me here to prove I existed.

Also, I want to come out of the shadows; I lived my whole natural life hiding from society, from people. I hid from the world, wasting my life hidden away in the safe corners of my own mind. I never was a family man, having only a few short relationships more akin to brief encounters than anything else.

There is no one left of my human bloodline to carry my name, not even an old friend to remember who I was. They are all dead now.

But I'll get to that. This is my story. My life after death… my deadly romance with the woman who killed me, the loss of everything I've ever known, and the crazy obsession with everything I used to be.

As I have said, I do not believe I will live for much longer, whatever "living" really is anyway. I have come to the end of my rope; this is my last attempt at retaining some sort of humanity, and yes, my only attempt at finding some sort of peace with what has become of me.

Who knows what will happen in the future, but I want it known what has happened in my past, leading up to the present. Even if no one ever gets to read this, I hope to find some sort of solace, some sort of release from within the words of this manuscript.

Perhaps I should start by briefly visiting my old life. Running through those dreary days may give a better insight to what I am now, a better understanding of my desperation. Maybe I am just dragging this out longer than needed, maybe I am stalling. Either way it will be recorded, remembered.

I was never much for relationships or even people in general. I wasn't necessarily a loner; I had a few friends, some of which were rather close. However I always held even the best of them at no less than an arms distance. I constantly spent time thinking, introspectively observing my life and being in the world around me.

Despite what you might have assumed, I was not terribly emotional either. Honestly, be it because I have left that life behind or whatever other reason, in retrospect I find my old life to have been nothing but a grey fog, a slow black and white film unfolding predictably.

I went to work daily, ate at all the normal times, and even had normal, although rare, physical relations with women. My life was plain, boring. Add that to the frustration of not being capable of 'connecting' with those around me, and my world was pretty shitty.

I guess I just put on a good face and lived through it. Until I died that is. That's when everything changed.

That's when my story really starts.

The Pain of Waking

I felt nothing but pain, white hot burning pain, wracking my insides, coursing through my center; that was my world as soon as consciousness took a hold of me. My eyes weren't even open yet!

I could hear my cries echoing all around me, screaming so loud my head felt as if it were splitting. Everything seemed heightened; the pain was only increasing, my screaming louder than it seemed possible. And then… Silence.

Everything was gone. Spasms of pain still clutched at my chest, and little whimpers still escaped my lips, but other than that, my world was empty. Suddenly a stench reached my nostrils, causing my stomach to wretch with a sickness. What was that?

With a groan, I realized I soiled myself. I shit and pissed myself like an invalid. At that, I broke down. The pain, the sickness, the stench and shame was all too much for me to handle. And so I cried. Sobbing into the cold floor, the confusion of what was happening finally registering on my already overloaded mind, I fell asleep.

Slowly, I became self aware again. Slowly, I began to wake. As I opened my eyes, I found myself in a warm, dimly lit room.

"Strange," I said to myself. I didn't think I was in the same room as I was earlier. This room seems so much more welcoming. It felt like I was in a dark basement earlier…

"Earlier? What happened?" I started to panic as shadowy memories of massive amounts of pain came rushing back to me.

Then I realized I was naked and clean; no more stench.

"It's about time you woke up," floated a soft, sweet voice, but from where? "You looked so peaceful sleeping there; I couldn't bring myself to wake you, especially after what you had to go through."

"Where are you?" I yelled, "Who are you?" My eyes were frantically scanning the room, taking in everything trying to find my captor. Because that's what she was, right? All I found though was a plush room, styled with Victorian flair, the dark green rugs contrasting well with the stained wood panels of the wall.

In afterthought, I am surprised how much of the room I took in and appraised. It was like my senses were working overtime and overloaded.

The bed in which I sat up was overstuffed, with at least ten pillows, covered in vanilla silk sheets and velvet down blankets. There were heavily cushioned high-back chairs placed through out the room - and there she was… blending in perfectly with the room and the chair that held her surprisingly small frame. How did I miss her?

With black, curly locks, vibrant green-blue eyes, and a cherubic mouth placed pleasantly on a roundish face, she really was hard to miss. Her form, small but not petite, was almost swallowed up by the cushioned chair she leaned forward from.

"Who are you?" I asked again, "Where am I?" For a second she just gazed at me, a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her face. Then -

"Katherine. Just call me Katherine." Her voice was soft and measured but so strong, it was strange. "And you are in my house, in fact, you are in my room. I took your clothes, threw them away, bathed you, and let you sleep in my bed while you recovered.

"Do you feel well, now?" she continued, my mind racing at what she said. "Don't be scared, I promise you are alright. Really, you should be feeling better and better as the seconds pass by."

"What happened to me? How did I get here… did you really do all this yourself?" My mind was running so fast it was practically tripping over one thought after another. "What happened to me?!"

What she said next made me laugh out of disbelief.

"You are dead. I killed you." She whispered with that smirk on her face… almost mirthful.

"What? Dead? You kissed me, not killed me…" I started to argue but stopped as everything came back to me- the ball, my drunken chase of her, the cold embrace, and then yes, that wonderful burning sensation, then darkness. Was I really dead?

"What you were feeling earlier," she continued, ignoring my denials, "were the final pangs of death. Your life struggling to hold on as it leaves your body. It is never pleasant."

What was going on? Nothing made any sense to me; I was in a beautiful woman's bed, the same woman who claimed to kill me, but I was still alive. I didn't feel dead at all. She was right, I was feeling better almost a hundredfold compared to earlier.

Was that how death feels?

She must have sensed my confusion, because at that moment, she moved to the bedside (how graceful she looked) and took my hand, her skin so cold to the touch.

"Athan, I took your life," she simply stated with a squeeze of my hand. How did she know my name? "I took your blood and gave you mine. You probably don't even remember that part, your mind had already shut down by then."

She waited for me, allowing me to slowly put together and analyze all of what she said, in her smooth, soft, matter-of-fact manner.

"So let me get this straight," I stammered out, "are you a vampire?"

"If you want you could call me that, you could call

us

that," Katherine started, her controlled, floating voice almost leaving me mesmerized again. "Whatever you think we are though, I can assure you that you have died. That, and I will admit to taking your life. Unfortunately, I don't really understand myself, why I did it."

"You don't know why you killed me?"

"Oh, no… no. I was going to kill you either way; I was hunting, you might say. I don't know why I changed you – turning you into the being you are now. It wasn't supposed to happen."

Again, she paused, as if sensing that my mind was still reeling from surviving the absurdity of the situation. All I could do was stare, eyes wide under a furrowed brow. I probably looked surprised. I couldn't accept it!

From the gorgeous room I awoke in, hell, the huge plush bed I still sat upon to the beauty poised next to me telling me I was a vampire, I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or yell at her. I certainly didn't believe her!

"I know what you're thinking, Athan, and its understandable- "

"No, you don't know what I am thinking! Unless you really can read minds, suck blood and all that, I think you are fucking crazy!" I began to get angry; what kind of sick game was this? "This is what I think happened, okay? I went to a stupid ball because a friend felt bad for me, got drunk by the punch bowl, saw a beautiful woman, followed her upstairs, and apparently after an amazing kiss, went home with her. The worst thing is, I don't remember the best part!"

For a second, Katherine just looked at me. Her eyes at first piercing and thoughtful, glowing from the dim light of the room, suddenly softened. And she laughed at me!

"I am sorry, Athan, but you are wrong." God! Her voice got to me. "Well, yes, you were drunk, and you did follow me up the stairs – thank you for calling me beautiful by the way – but we didn't actually kiss. I bit you, and am not surprised you remember it as a kiss. In a way it was, but the kiss of death is not something you get all the time"

"Alright, so you tell me what happened then, enlighten me." I was beginning to doubt myself.

"After I bit you, I drank, bringing you to the brink of life and death. But I stopped. I happened to open my eyes and look at you, and I couldn't do it. I was different all of a sudden, less impersonal. I felt horrible, guilty."

Here she took a breath, obviously reliving the moment in her head; Katherine's eyes were focused, and her lips were tight and thin, pursed shut. Glancing at me, brushing the hair away from her face, she took another breath.

"I didn't know what to do; I couldn't kill you, but I knew that you would never be able to recover. If I were to have left you, then you really would be dead now. For good. So I gave you my blood. We kissed after I bit into my tongue and lips, letting my mouth fill with it, with my blood.

"You took to me like an animal, biting and sucking at my tongue and lips as if your body knew its existence really did depend on it. Finally you collapsed." She smiled at me, laughing a bit – "I can't lie, it was one of the better experiences of my life."

I couldn't help it, I smiled back at her. I was supposed to be angry though, right?

"So let me guess, from there you snuck me out of the party and brought me here to this place? Wherever 'here' is." I was staring again, this time looking to see if there was any truth registering on her face. I did not like what I saw; it did not mean anything good for me.

"Not at first, I brought you to an old warehouse not so far from the ballroom we met at. The exchange weakened me too, and so I couldn't bring you anywhere specific. I just took you to the nearest place we could both find shelter. That's when your body gave in to my blood and died…" Katherine let the sentence trail off, watching me.

My reaction was delayed, but at her mention of that moment, my mind flashed with memories and visages of pain, sweat and of a horrible stench. That really was –

"My death? That is really what that was? I was rolling around on the dirty floor of some warehouse? Dying?" I began to feel sick, a knot tightening in my chest, its heavy weight dropping into my stomach. My mind was reeling, and I knew I needed air.