“Don’t look now,” said Rebecca, “but Steph’s on the roof.”

Josie and Lewis looked up towards the roof simultaneously. They all knew it wasn’t really Steph. The shapeshifter, posing as Steph, retracted its head out of sight.

“I told you not to look,” said Rebecca, wrinkling her nose. The shapeshifter had a peculiar scent to the girl stricken with vampirism—the smell had drawn her attention to the roof. Nobody else seemed to notice the sickly sweet, metallic aroma on the air. It was something akin to raw tomato paste in Rebecca’s mind. All of her senses had been wonky since recovering from her ghast bites and contracting the fabled disease.

A metabolic change had started inside of her. She was becoming something else—something more than human. Mr. Gray had downplayed the severity of her condition, but the implications were worrisome. The rays of the sun felt particularly repressive today, as if she were frying under a heat lamp.

The changes to her senses weren’t all bad, though. On top of being able to smell the shapeshifter, she could also tell that it wasn’t human just from looking at its attempt at a human face. In every form the creature had taken in front of Rebecca (that of several old men, and Steph) she felt like she was looking at a dog in human skin for how obviously wrong it was. It was something about the width of the head being slightly too narrow, but also in the ratios of its eye placement. She couldn’t quite explain it, but to her it was glaringly obvious. Nobody else seemed to notice the discrepancies.

Lewis and Josie shared a knowing look. Neither one of them appeared to be particularly worried about the presence of their shape-shifting stalker above.

“What gives?” asked Rebecca.

Lewis shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, he will be an ally soon. His name is Clark.”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “How could you possibly know that…?”

Lewis and Josie shared another silent look. Their non-verbal communication game was on point. Lewis shook his head. Josie raised an eyebrow. Then Lewis sighed. He begrudgingly delved into the explanation of his time-traveling journal.

Rebecca stared at him incredulously as she mulled the concept over in his mind. “So you wrote a diary, and now it has come back in time to you through a time pocket and it predicts the future,” she repeated back her understanding of the situation.

“More or less, but it’s a journal, not a diary,” Lewis said defensively.

Rebecca laughed. “No, it’s okay, I think it’s cute when a boy writes down his feelings.”

“It’s really not like that,” said Lewis.

Rebecca nodded, amused by how easily flustered Lewis had become. Rebecca wasn’t usually so confident around boys, not enough to tease them anyway, and certainly not around older boys like Lewis. A daring streak was growing inside of her. It felt foreign to her typical temperament, which was usually much more reserved. Her mind raced, almost like a caffeine buzz. She couldn’t help but ponder if the shift inside her was symptomatic of her vampirism.

Rebecca wasn’t teasing Lewis because of any attraction to him—it was actually quite the opposite. She was asserting her dominance. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she sensed a weakness within Lewis. He seemed like a nice enough guy and all, however, he reeked of fear.

The smell was sweet to her, like honey-glazed ham. It’s not that she wanted to bite him and drink all of his blood—she had been able to control herself better since receiving an elixir from Mr. Gray early that morning—it’s just that the thought of biting Lewis and drinking all of his blood did cross her mind at an alarmingly unhealthy rate. The smell of fear seeped out of his every pour with his sweat. He was prey. And as prey, he was simply unattractive to her. It was definitely the vampirism leading the feelings as she thought about it more, but she couldn’t help how she felt. He was as attractive to her as a pig or chicken.

“Stop staring at me like that…” said Lewis.

Rebecca diverted her eyes. She realized her mouth was watering. She’d been gazing at Lewis like he was a soup dumpling. She could sense his elevated blood pressure pulsing through his veins. “Sorry,” said Rebecca. She didn’t share her feelings. She didn’t want to alarm anyone. She could control the cravings.

Lewis continued to watch Rebecca with a small frown on his face.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What should we do about Clark?” asked Josie, thankfully turning the conversation away from the awkward moment.

Lewis pursed his lips. “Clark will lead us to the Dreadnaught, but we have to convince him to help us first.

“So we need to catch him again so that we can talk to him,” said Rebecca. She knew what needed to be done, and surprisingly she didn’t feel any reservations about going after the shapeshifter.

A maple tree in Josie’s front yard had a wide branch that led perfectly to the lower roof line above the front porch. Rebecca walked over beneath the branch and jumped as high as she could, easily latching onto it with her arms. She swung her legs up, dangling upside down like a bat for a moment before pulling herself all the way up. Her scrawny muscles felt supercharged. She hopped up and ran the length of the branch with precise balance and agility.

It felt good to move. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been holding back by pretending to be ordinary.

She glanced back down at Lewis and Josie. They looked dumbfounded as she leapt spryly from the branch onto the roof.

The shapeshifter, still masquerading as Steph, picked its head up again at the sound of the thud as Rebecca landed on the roof like a gymnast. The shock on its face was laughable as the stalker became the stalked.

Rebecca ran up the steep roof, releasing a war cry as she dove headfirst at the unsuspecting creature. Tentacles shot out and wrapped around her as they bounced once together against the roof and then fell roughly to the ground behind the house.

The vampirism made Rebecca stronger than ever as she sat up on top of the shapeshifter and held it by the throat. “Don’t struggle,” she said.

Josie and Lewis came running around the house into the backyard.

The shapeshifter’s tentacles went limp as Rebecca raised a threatening fist above its slightly narrow Steph-face. It slowly retracted its extra appendages back into its human disguise—a show of submission. Rebecca lowered her hand again as Lewis joined her at the creature’s side.

“Hello,” said Lewis, addressing the shapeshifter. “I don’t know your whole story, or even if you can fully understand me, but I do know you were taken by the Agares against your will.”

The shapeshifter stared back at Lewis blankly.

“I know you are going to go by the name Clark, eventually,” continued Lewis. “And that you are going to be our friend.”

“Fffur,” said Clark, the sound escaping like a hiss.

“Friend,” repeated Lewis. “We are friends.”

“Frieends,” said Clark, sounding like a German exchange student. His eyes—Steph’s eyes—bulged as he made an awkward grimace.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Lewis, chuckling.

Rebecca let go of Clark’s throat and sat back slightly. He didn’t struggle. His eyes shifted between the children.

“Ar gahtoa du vary se’lina happo,” said Clark. He made a cluck sound like a chicken. “Du gardo hano.”

“What?” asked Lewis.

“Frieends ride. Get low,” said Clark. “Low low low. With the furr!”

“Ah, yeah,” said Lewis. “The song, from the car. You like music, don’t you, Clark?”

Clark giggled like Steph. It was creepy.

“I know where we can listen to some more music,” said Lewis. “There’s a band playing at the Taste of Edmonds. You can hear it, can’t you?”

The distant drone of live rock music sounded from across town at the festival. Rebecca wondered if anyone else other than them had even noticed the tear in the sky. Life was going on as normal down below. The hole was still up there, but a billowy cloud completely hid the opening in the universe at this point. The mist was falling down and settling across the town; a peculiar warm fog.

“We need to go to the music,” continued Lewis. “The Dreadnaught is down there somewhere, and if you help us kill it, we can all be free of the Agares.”

Clark’s face drooped into a frown. “Agares bad,” he said.

“Yes,” said Lewis. “Agares very bad.”

“Dreadnaught very very bad,” said Clark.

Lewis nodded. “You lead us to it, we kill it, then we are all free.”

“Free,” said Clark. “For music?”

“Yes, we can listen to all the music you want, after you lead us to the Dreadnaught.”

Clark nodded in agreement. “The Dreadnaught will devour you. There is no hope.”

Josie and Rebecca shared a look of concern.

“We have to do it,” insisted Lewis. “It’s the only way. We just need you to lead us there.”

“I will help,” said Clark. “I’m supposed to bring you to them. They will reward me…. You should run, leave this universe behind.”

“I can’t do that,” said Lewis.

“I will not enjoy your deaths. They will,” Clark said flatly.

Rebecca stood up, getting off of the shapeshifter entirely. Clark remained in Steph’s image as he looked up at her.

“She is scary,” said Clark, pointing at Rebecca.

More savoy sweet fear wafted from Lewis’s pores as his eyes darted over to Rebecca. Josie’s hand subconsciously went to her neck at the same time. Only a faint scar remained where Rebecca bit her. Josie wasn’t afraid of Rebecca, but she was wary.

“The Dreadnaught hungers for terror, just like her,” said Clark.

Rebecca voiced a shrill bark at Clark. “Arp!”

Everyone flinched.

They should be scared me! thought Rebecca. I’m feeling better than ever! She rolled her eyes at their frowns. “Scared of a little girl? Whatever. Let’s go kill this Dreadnaught.” Fierce intensity burned behind her eyes. The vampirism had changed her, but she didn’t care. She relished in her growing strength.

Okay, okay, I know what you’re all thinking…. I may have underplayed the severity of little Rebecca’s affliction. Vampires in real life aren’t quite like the ones on TV! Rebecca is going through a metamorphosis most interesting. I’ve seen her life play out in many different ways across the ages, but none are quite as spectacular as Vampire Becca. A scrawny thirteen-year-old scampering up a tree, over the roof, and linebacker tackling a squid person? Ridiculous! But believe me when I tell you, this kid is just getting started! Take that, ordinary life!

Keep vigilant,

-Mr. Gray