[Present Day]

I bite through the wires to the security alarm; teeth are just fine when you don’t have a pair of wire cutters with you. Somehow, I don’t think my past knowledge has carried over because that camera is still functioning and scanning the back lot. The next best thing, I’ll just cut power to the entire building. I rip out the wires and claw at the covering. It’ll look as if some animal did it when they come to get the power back on, but it’ll take them a few hours to get here. That’s all the time I need.

I don’t think I was ever good at breaking and entering, but new security features make it hard. I’m weak, and I struggle to get the door open enough for me to get inside. A nasty cut forms on my arm from scraping against the door while squeezing through, it’s been so long since I’ve been hurt, but I’m building a nice list. I’ve got cuts, bruises, burns and a slight gaping hole in my chest. I try to bend the door back into shape as best as I can but it doesn’t budge. Seems like I’m running on empty at the moment. I had a list of blood banks in the city, but this was closest and I couldn’t spare the energy to walk to any of the further centers.

Blood banks are all the same, business up front, big coolers in the back holding all the blood. Old blood is closer to the front because it has a short shelf life. The same flat paint and chairs as every waiting room, could have watched some local TV if I hadn’t cut the power. Lesson learned for the next time I suppose. I drag one of the chairs over to the counter and use it to step up. I don’t have the energy or mobility to make it over by myself.

In the back, I run across offices and donation stations before I manage to find the actual blood. Finally, I reach the cooler room. I was expecting a room with a few fridges and shelves but this is an entire walk-in freezer set to keep blood cooled. I just turn the handle as if there was no lock and it pops open when the lock breaks under pressure. I’m relieved because I couldn’t have gotten through this big door. That means I’d have to drink more rat blood to get by for a little while. Doable, but no ideal.

I take a look and find the oldest bags of blood first. This isn’t a blood bank set up to service the undead nightmares roaming the city, but one to help people. I grab a few and head over to their staff room. After searching for a while, I find a large bowl and fill it with water. I wish I could microwave it, but being room temperature is enough for me. I let the blood packs warm up in the water as I head back for more, three won’t even be enough to heal this wound. I can drink blood cold without vomiting like a lot of vampires would, but I’m not in so much of a rush that I have to rip the packs open and drink like a savage.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I remove my shirt and slice open a blood pack. The blood is still a little colder than room temperature, but it soothes the burning sensation in my throat that had become a constant since I left the fire. The chest wound begins to heal, but slowly. I relax on the couch in the break room as I continue to sip more blood. I can actually feel it circulating through my body, that’s a new feeling. I pour a little of the cold blood on my arm and it heals, but the chest wound is still moving slow. It’s healing nice with no scars, so that’s an added bonus.

The fog that’s been covering my mind starts to dissipate a little, but everything isn’t clear yet. All my knowledge of computers comes back. People, Mom, Dad, and a few faces I can’t seem to recall the names of. Did I have siblings? They might be siblings. Two faces stand out more than the others. A man with a green streak in his wild hair, but I can’t make out much else. The other is a woman, a beautiful woman, almost as if I’d been searching for her this whole time.

I drink a little more blood, and more information comes back to me, I could have totally broken that alarm system earlier, or just taken the damn security tape. Elias, that’s my big brother, he was a stoner, a painter, and a womanizer. Charlene was my big sister, she owned a hair salon, and was looking to start another. D’Andre, little brother, just finished college and was going to be a high school teacher, while trying to become a famous photographer. The younger girls were twins, my sisters, but I can’t remember their names. Bone and Pepper, Chalk and Cinnamon, the names just aren’t coming to me. They came along after I was already an adult. The only solution to that is a sixth pack of blood, but I’m pushing my limit. I need more, but I can’t overindulge or I’ll end up vomiting it all back. I need to give it time to circulate.

“Destiny,” I impulsively scream out, cutting off my other thoughts.

It was Destiny, the woman is Destiny. The love of my life, how could I have ever forgotten her? Where are the rings? The rings, I pat down my pockets furiously without finding a single thing. Our rings, I can’t believe I forgot Destiny, and lost the rings. I can never forget her again. I’d do anything for her. I wipe a tear from my eye, remembering just how much I really loved her. Without Destiny, my life would be completely different, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Destiny,” I say her name again, just because I like the way it feels in my mouth, “Destiny,” I repeat it, trying to summon up more visions and memories of her. Unfortunately, it seems this is as far as my memories go for the moment.