It had been a pretty wild night; I woke up parched and hungry. I only half remembered the private show I had done, parts of it came back in flashes like someone flipping through the channels while all hopped up on Red Bull.
I found the guys in my band sitting down to breakfast, so I joined them. The smell of their food turned my stomach. Normally I'm a toast and lots of coffee kind of guy, but this morning nothing seemed appetising. My mouth felt like someone had been walking through it with sweaty athletic socks.
The waitress came over to take my order and I just stared at the menu like it was in Greek. Not a damn thing appealed. Out of habit I ordered coffee and lit a cigarette. The first drag tasted odd; by the second puff I wondered who had switched the tobacco with fertiliser. I stubbed it out and took a sip of the freshly delivered coffee, and promptly wished I hadn't. It too tasted like someone had taken a dump in it.
Just then the waitress walked past, a glass of tomato juice on her tray, that really looked good, so I caught her attention and got my order in.
"Man your eyes are totally bloodshot, and you look the living dead." Paul looked at me over his cup of tea, "rough night, huh boss?"
I shrugged, and then took my sunglasses out of my jacket and put them on; the sun coming in through the cheap blinds of the café was giving me a headache.
"That's what you get for gallivanting off and doing that gig on your own," Alan laughed, "you need us to keep you out of trouble!"
Paul leaned in and pulled my shirt collar away from my neck, "whoever you were with last night was sort of rough, you have one hell of a hickey."
Alan added "a bit of a biter, too."
I must have looked as confused as I felt because Paul dumped his plate of scones and held up the silver platter in front of me. In the reflection I saw what they meant. I had a massive bruise just where my shoulder and neck met, and in the middle of the bruise was a couple of lovely bite marks.
I was saved from commenting by the waitress returning with the tomato juice. My mouth watered as I took the first sip, but then all the spit turned to dust, as the taste was so foul I felt like I was going to throw up. I downed the rest in one gulp, hoping that it was due to a massive hangover and maybe I just was really dehydrated.
I decided to step outside, maybe the fresh air would get the drugged out feeling from my system. The cool shadow of the building felt good, then I stepped out into the sun. The minute the sunlight hit me I felt like I was on fire. I jumped back to the shade and looked at my arms; they were red like I had fallen asleep on the beach for a few hours. "What the hell's wrong with me?" I asked of no one in particular, so I was quite surprised to get an answer.
"You've been bitten by a vampire," said the voice, I whipped around and there was the chauffeur from the night before, the one I had dubbed Mr. Sunshine.
He was standing in the greenery next to the front entrance and had obviously been waiting for me to come out.
"Yeah, right, a vampire." I scoffed, "and what are you a werewolf?"
"No, I'm a human. I just work for a vampire." He stepped up next to me, "Here, catch."
He tossed a small silver cross at me and out of instinct I caught it in my right hand. As my fingers curled around it, an electrical charge jolted me; I dropped the cross and stared at it like it was going to strike me like a cobra.
"Now, will you listen?" He put his arm around my shoulder and led me to the back of the hotel, careful to stay in the shadows. He motioned for me to get into a limo, with darkly tinted windows and joined me in the backseat, "you have questions I'm sure."
"Where do I start? OK does this make me a vampire now?" I asked.
"Not yet. You are still half human. You were fed upon but were not given all the blood that you would need to make you a full vampire. Next question?"
"Alright, how to I get back to being all human?"
"You don't. Your options are to stay as you are or become all vampire. My employer asked me to give you the choices and let you decide. If you stay as you are, you will be able to function mostly as a human but you will not be as you were before. You can go out in the daylight provided you cover up your skin, like a vampire must, but overall you are still mortal." He looked at me then out the window, "you may also decide to let my employer finish what he started and make you all vampire. He doesn't bestow this gift on many; it's an honour to be chosen. He admires you. In a lot of ways he is your number one fan. He will give you eternal life."
"But I wouldn't I be undead?" I countered, "and I would have to drink blood right?"
"Yes, that comes with the gift," he waved it off like it was no big deal, "but you would also live forever. There's no such thing as undead, you would just live on a whole different plain of existence than you are now."
"Do I have a third option?"
"The third option, of course, is to just die. You can choose to let someone kill you or take your own life, or let nature take its course." He leaned across me and opened the door, "You have a lot to think about, I won't keep you. Keep in mind that my employer is awaiting your answer. Do not tarry too long in deciding. He may change his mind and make your decision for you; he is not the most patient being."
I got out of the limo and made my way back to my hotel room. This is insane, I thought, this has to be some sort of joke. I decided to call my manager, Russ to see if he had any information on the guy that had hired me the night before.
After a few pleasantries I got down to business, I asked Russ for the name and address. He put me on hold for a few seconds, and then came back on the line, "Well, he didn't leave an exact street address but the name on the bank transfer I got from him was U.N. Knowne."
