Urgency was desperately needed. Both urgency and care. He had the good fortune of making the acquaintance of two youngsters he had manipulated into helping him sneak through the night gates. It was against the rules for someone of his kind to set foot in the human part of the city. He had always hated that.
Why were humans allowed on the vampire side, but not the other way around? In his experience, it was humans who caused the most trouble.
It was comparatively safe in this part of the city. Great swathes of people, all minding their own business. It would be hard for anyone to notice him. The greatest risk here were the sly pickpockets drawn in by the large crowds. Horrible people. Easy to detect. The smell of other people's belongings clinging to them. He made a point of staring at any he came across. Frequently evoking discontented murmurs or hard looks.
If one of them made a grab at him, he would have to be careful about how he dealt with them. His unnatural strength would give him away immediately. A thief could quickly become a hero if they were to catch one of his kind skulking around where they shouldn't be.
He could always just let the assailant dip his pockets, but that would defeat his purpose for being here. What little wealth he possessed had a predetermined destination, one not too far away, but he had to hurry all the same. A smattering of guards were patrolling the area for weapons and trespassers, but they were concentrating their attention on those who were heading in the opposite direction.
He had to remind himself how to be human. Or, at least, how they presented themselves. Nod politely and smile warmly. Nod politely and smile warmly. Repetition is a vampire's best friend. Nod warmly and smile politely.
There was a tangible feeling of relief as he slowly made his way further and further from the night gates. It was just as dark here as it was in the vampire district's innermost recesses. Worrisomely, he could feel a gnawing sensation of irritation beginning to surface. The first symptom of hunger.
He had to pause a moment and dial in his senses. His head ached from the continual adjustment of bright lights to comfortable darkness. His eyes also began to burn. Even now, they strained to adjust between the pitch black and the meagre light that was able to cast itself from where he had just come from.
Now that there was no source of light, his pupils would take on an inhuman shape. Even the darkness came with its risks.
He felt his ears prick up as he turned his head in the direction of the streets and paths ahead of him. He had not yet mastered this particular skill. Although he had a decent level of certainty that the route ahead was unoccupied, he fell back on his most trusted sense to confirm it.
Bringing his thumb and index finger to his mouth, he wet the tips and, in turn, used them to wet the skin around his nostrils. He still had to close his eyes to concentrate, such was the cacophony of smells that presented themselves. In his mind, he could map out where the closest person was; the smell of perspiration in the air gave away their precise location.
It wasn’t only people he could smell. There were the familiar scents of animals, aromas the vampire district was completely devoid of. Animals somehow knew to avoid nesting close to his kind. Specifically, they knew to avoid where vampires slumbered. The absence of rats on the vampire’s side of the night gates added to the mythos of vampire cleanliness. Being overly sensitive to smell meant that looking after themselves and the places they occupied was of paramount importance to their general comfort.
Ironically, the exaggerated sneer a human might give a vampire is exactly the type of reaction he had to subdue when experiencing a human with poor hygiene. Given the relatively poor state of sanitation in the city, this was unfortunately the rule rather than the exception.
He carried on walking in the direction that least offended his nose. As he neared his destination, his mind went to the hundred different shortcuts he could take to get him there. As he came across each one, he racked his brain to try and reach the memories he had previously attached to them. He knew he knew them, but it was like each recollection was obscured on purpose. The harder he tried to focus on it, the further it slipped away. The next time he tried to retrace the same memory, it seemed further out of reach than before. If at all possible, it was best to leave any memories of his previous life untouched, preserved behind the glass that protected them. He couldn’t enjoy them, but at least he knew they were there. Somewhere.
He stopped in his tracks. A close cut through the street between two buildings. He could map it out in his mind—a slight incline leading to steps that emerged to the street above. Without any wind, he wouldn't be able to rely on scents giving him advanced warning of anyone on the other side. The acoustics of the tight and narrow passage were generous enough to allow some protection from his untrained ears.
As he entered the passage, he could hear the rumblings of his heart. The throb was slow and aggressive—far slower than a human heartbeat. A result of the viscous black liquid it now forced around his body. He detested every aspect of himself that reminded him he was different.
He ran his fingers along the damp wall forcefully enough that he could hear the soft scraping they made. He tried his best to focus on the sound.
Jessica. A flash of memory.
He had been here with her. For a moment, he could remember. That feeling… was it happiness? Was it sadness? It was of her, but there was no brightness to it. He lingered on it too long, trying to cling to the details, knowing full well that another precious memory was fading away forever.
Even the unexceptional memories were infinitely more precious than the gold in his pockets.
Anger swelled up inside; he stretched both arms out and used the walls to keep himself upright as he focused on his breathing. If tears could come, they'd be streaming down his face.
The notion of running into an innocent passerby was now a much more terrifying prospect. He would have to do all he could to stop his anger from overpowering his thoughts.
A stream of light suddenly sprung from a house with its windows uncovered, and he ran to the nearest wall. He peeked around every so often to check if the coast was clear.
Raised voices told him he wasn’t alone.
A door slammed, and several pairs of feet stormed the ground. He looked around the wall to see if it was people coming out of the house. Not only was that the case, but to exacerbate the situation, they were moving in his direction.
Terrant threw his back against the wall, daring not to move. The voices passed him by, close enough that the smell of liquor was overpowering. They were heading for the close that he had just emerged from. As they descended down the stairs, their shouting and riotous laughter echoed loudly. The intense noise made it feel like they were digging through his skull, slowly making their way from one ear to the other. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from reacting.
He waited until there was complete silence again, then emerged from the shadows. Ready to move again, another light from a house appeared. Quickly, he ducked and slithered past the window.
He ran to the other side of the street.
Terrant refused to be stopped in what he had set out to do. These inconveniences were weighing heavily on the amount of time he had to spare. Care was no longer a luxury he could afford.
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He heard more voices. This time, it was a crowd of people gathered outside an inn. There was a part of him that faintly remembered the place. He wondered if he had frequented it himself in another life.
Why didn’t these inconsequential memories fade away as easily as those dear to him? They made no attempt to force their escape.
“Oi!” A female called out.
He looked over, expecting someone to have caught his clumsy movement. Instead, he noticed a barmaid exiting the establishment. She stomped up to a group of young men, both fists clenched by her sides.
“Don’t think I didn’t see what happened there,” the barmaid said. “I know your kind. If you want to behave like animals, you can sling your hook. Go elsewhere. I’ll be having none of that. Do you hear me?”
“We're leaving anyway, you old goat.”
Terrant stayed in the shadows as the young men passed by, moaning about the barmaid and mimicking her complaints while laughing among themselves. Once they were a safe distance away, he could hear them call her every undesirable name they could think of. They were heading to the vampire district. This late at night.
He licked his lips.
His stomach rumbled.
He couldn't wait any longer. He’d gone too long without a drop of blood, and he desperately needed it. If he didn’t, he’d get irate, and that was the last thing he needed right now. Something inside sought to persuade him to turn around and follow the young men. Just pick one of them off and quench his thirst. He’d be doing the world a favour, he reasoned, given how they’d behaved.
But that wasn’t him.
He knew time was running out.
What he had to do needed to be done now.
Terrant strolled casually past the inn. It was the one place he didn’t mind being caught. Who’d believe the words of a drunk?
He was close to his goal. All he had to do was turn the next corner and head up the next street.
But he stopped.
A munching noise attracted his attention.
When he investigated it, Terrant found a dog rooting through garbage.
He was getting hungrier.
In his inside coat pocket he had rats’ blood. However, a dog's blood would be incomparably more satisfying. It’d slake his thirst more quickly and for longer.
But it was a dog.
He didn’t know why that mattered to him.
Vampires and animals shared no connection.
The dog turned to him with its tail wagging excitedly. Terrant had to get out of there quick. It would only be a second before the dog-
He was too late.
The dog quickly sensed that he wasn’t a person after all and began to bark and growl.
The dog held its ground and barked for anyone who could hear it, and Terrant rushed away from the scene.
When he reached the house at the end of the street, Terrant knelt. He brought out an envelope and went to put it on the doorstep.
No, he thought. He had to see her.
He got to his feet and nearly knocked on the door.
But he didn’t.
Terrant sat the money down on the doorstep and turned away. He wanted nothing more than to knock on the door and see the people who lived there. Even though it was a bad idea, it’d been too long.
“What are you doing here?” A woman’s voice whispered, trying not to wake anyone.
Terrant turned to face the house. A face with fiery hair poked its head through a small gap in the door. “Jessica.”
“Don’t,” his widow replied. “You know you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m cold,” Terrant said, taking a step forward. “...Always cold.”
“You need to leave.”
“Please.” He raised a hand to the door.
Jessica was becoming visibly upset. The pain travelled through to her words, “The day you died, I told you not to go. I warned you it’d be dangerous, and I was clear that if anything happened, you’d have no home. I meant it. You ignored me like you always did, and now my husband, the man I loved, is gone.”
Terrant wasn’t hurt by her words. His first reaction was anger; he pushed on the door slightly. “It’s still me.”
“You’re just an echo of him. A Shell.”
He couldn’t bear to hear it. Terrant tried to fight it, but his rage was overwhelming. He chided himself for not feeding before he came. He’d be in better control if he had.
“You should be older…” she said as she reached out a hand and rested it on his cold cheek.
He looked exactly the same as the day he had left. She, on the other hand, displayed the signs of the passing years on her face.
Suddenly, without his control, he reached angrily through the gap in the doorway and pushed her to the floor. He watched her fall back and nearly hit her head on a wall. She turned to look at him from where she lay, one hand cradling the side of her face.
The expression she was trying to convey he deciphered to be "hurt." Not physically, the other one. “Jess, I…”
“Monster!” Jessica said, now in tears. “You don’t get to call me that. I told you you’re not him.”
Terrant spied a shadow moving upstairs. “Where is he?”
“You can’t see him.”
“He’s my boy.”
“And he thinks you’re dead.”
Terrant violently threw the door open, causing the entire house to shake. His gaze fixed on the body scrambling backwards on the floor. His instincts told him to pursue.
A tiny gasp from upstairs stalled him.
He paused and crouched gently in front of Jessica. “Why?”
“A lie was easier than the truth. It’s better for him to think his father’s dead than to see what he’s become.”
Enough was enough. Terrant got back up, turned on his heels, and left the house. He picked up the envelope filled with money and threw it at Jessica. The envelope exploded, sending a shrapnel of coins flying every which way.
His muscles tingled slightly.
“The sun.” Terrant said with his back to her. “I don’t have much time.”
Knowing he’d need the energy to make it back, Terrant took the vial of rats’ blood from his jacket pocket and drank it. Every swallow stuck in his throat. Maybe Jessica was right.
There was no time to wallow in self-pity as the sound of a door slamming shut nearby startled him. He was about to flee when-
“Hello, neighbour,” a somewhat familiar and annoying voice called out. “I’m headed off to work. You’re the last person I’d have ever thought to see.”
The sight of him immediately brought his hackles up. The one advantage of being a vampire was that he never had to see him anymore. There were many reasons to hate this particular neighbour, but only one really mattered.
“How’s Jess?” Gary, the neighbour asked. “And the boy?”
“What is it to you?” Terrant replied angrily.
“It’s just that I heard voices. Loud voices... and a bang. I do hope everything is alright?”
“You’ll stay away from them.”
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you technically no longer her husband? I mean, as a… you know, the thing you are. It’s not the same, is it?”
“I might not be the same man I used to be, but don’t think for a second that means you have a chance with my wife.”
“All it would take is one person to report you for being here, and then they would be all alone.” Gary said, fixing his shirt into his trousers. “And anyway, I’m still alive.”
Gary wouldn't have dared to answer him before. It was a mistake to think that Terrant would let the risk of another death deter him from reacting now.
“We’ll see about that.” Terrant snapped. He gripped Gary by the collar and lifted him into the air. “If I even HEAR you’re anywhere near them, we’ll both see if you’re unlucky enough to come back after death. Do you understand me?”
“Y-Y-Yes. Crystal.”
There was the real Gary. Terrant knew he wouldn’t have to scratch too far beneath the surface to find the stammering fool that lay below. He lowered Gary to the ground slowly and refrained from doing anything stupid.
“Good.” Terrant said before walking away.
Only when he turned the corner into the next street, he began to sprint. He should have already been running, but he didn’t want Gary to think he was fleeing from him. Or, more specifically, the risk that Gary would call out for someone.
With renewed energy, he had realistic hope that he could make it back in time. However, it seemed the universe had a different plan for him. By the time the night gates came into view, the sun was too close to rising. His body sensed its stirring, even though the sun was nowhere in sight. The heaviness in his bones started to weigh him down.
It was too late; true dark had passed.
Ironically, at the same place he had abandoned the youngsters, the same inn would have to do. He stumbled through the doorway, the place nearly empty. The proprietor rushing to his aid.
“Used to be, you'd be stumbling out in this sort of state.”
Not caring for the great risk he was taking in aiding Terrant, he helped him down the stairs behind the bar and into the cellar. There were a variety of barrels littered around the dark and damp space. With some effort, the man managed to topple one of the larger barrels onto its side. As he removed the large metal ring around the top of the barrel, the lid dropped to the floor with a loud clunk.
He dragged Terrant inside and apologised for the ramshackle lodgings he was providing. While the barrel was large, it was not big enough to stop Terrant’s feet from protruding out of the entrance.
It was here, stuffed into what was little more than a used container, he thought of everything that had happened. In another life, he vaguely recalled Jessica hanging on his every word. He remembered talking excitedly about all the things he would teach his son.
His mind was cast back to the day he made that stupid decision. His wife was right. She had warned him, and he didn’t listen to her.
All he had wanted to do was make money for his family. It was always one last job, and they’d be secure for life.
The truth was that none of that mattered anymore.
Who he was died that day.
Terrant wasn’t the same man.
He wasn’t even sure if he counted as a man anymore.
As he readied himself for the nightly ritual of rolling his eyes into the back of his head, bringing instant slumber, Terrant came to terms with the truth.
He was a vampire.
He’d never live the life he wanted.
Nor keep the promises to his son.
He was truly alone.