I was living that sweet college-kid life of attending more parties than classes and drinking more beer than water until my flatmate Saul returned from his weekend celebrations of pubs and clubs and found me on the floor with a bullet-sized hole in my forehead and bunch of blood all around me.
Obviously, I was hardcore out and wasn't there to witness whatever face Saul made and hear whatever ideas ran through his drunken mind when he saw me on that carpet, but the conclusion to that horror was that he fed me his blood, and in doing so, pulled me back into the world of the living.
As I shook and coughed myself awake, I couldn't have cared less about my miraculous rebirth (waking on the floor was a ritual to my style of partying). I rolled on the carpet (blindly, in my blood) wondering whether I should run for the toilet or just give up and puke out my insides right then and there. I felt sick and drowsy, hot and cold, and somewhat still trapped between reality and nightmare.
Begging God to let that wetness under my hands be just a spilled beer, I opened my eyes to a sight that replaced the twirling in my gut with annoyance and a desire to punch something.
Saul was right there, staring me down like some pretend dentist showcasing what a white smile was really ought to look like. That grin was the cornerstone of our tomfoolery. Whenever one of us did something embarrassing (remembering it or not) the other was sure to show up grinning like that to rub it in. It was a disgusting tradition, one that never made sense when hungover.
And on that night, Saul looked even more amused than usual.
I blinked a couple of times, dreading whatever story I was about to hear and sighed deeply from my lungs - hoping that my beer-breath would force Saul to retreat. But he stood quite immune.
"Well, morning, sleepy-head!" He all but shouted, so annoyingly chipper. Strangulation was what I was considering right then. "Or, you know...? Night, I guess."
I rolled toward the window and back. It was indeed dark outside.
"What time is it?"
"About two."
I tried to get up, but the dizziness slammed me right back down.
"It'll get better in a moment," Saul said in an unusually wise tone.
"Like hell it does..." I growled back. When it came to hangovers, I was at least as knowledgeable as he was.
He smirked and backed away. I could hear him land onto our sofa.
As he was keeping me wondering, instead of just telling me what I had been up to (for I had no memory of the night) I lifted my hands to my face with the plan to smell the liquid. But my muscles hard-stopped as my eyesight focused. I could see red, and I could also smell it. There was no doubt, it was blood.
A jilt of fear slashed through my organs, and my frightened brain made my hands test my gut and limbs for injuries. For a moment I even forgot that Saul was there.
"You're fine!" He called carelessly, dragging the "fine" as if it was his catchphrase to a new sitcom he starred in. "It's just the transition."
"Transition to what?" I asked off-hand, focusing more on getting to my feet. I was certain he was setting up for a joke.
"To a vampire."
I looked at him, blank-faced. "Vampire, huh?" The punch-line did not impress me. It was actually surprisingly unfunny.
But my lack of laughter didn't make him try to explain the joke. Instead, he threw me a mirror.
"Check your forehead."
That request made me sigh. There was no doubt in my mind that Saul had returned to the High School level of pranks and written something "clever" on my passed-out body.
But he hadn't.
For a moment, I froze. And then I touched it (the bullet wound) and felt such pain I had to pull my fingers back. My wheels started spinning but my brain never got the chance to reason it out.
"And your teeth," Saul called.
Slowly, I moved the mirror down. And... I could see nothing weird at all.
"Boo!" Saul appeared right behind me. And as the fear of the surprise ran through me, I could see my teeth turn into fangs.
Saul chuckled, his mascaraed eyes and slightly made up face appearing next to my deadly-pale one in the reflection.
"Don't overthink it." He spoke into my ear, "just say thank you!"
I pushed him the hell away and kept looking into the mirror. The fangs were there! Also, the wound.
As my mind offered me no answers, I was forced to turn back to Saul. He was again on the sofa, still enjoying the show.
"Say thank you... To you? Why?"
He rolled his eyes. "Well, because I turned you. Didn't I?"
"And you could turn me because you're a vampire?"
"Obviously."
"A bloodsucking, killing and all that, vampire?"
He shrugged. "If you'd like to put it that way."
"And you turned me into one as well?"
Saul got up, kind of grumpy but still smiling.
"You're a lot whinier than I thought you'd be."
"Well excuse me! I want to know what the hell's going on!"
He parted his hands dramatically and hammered me with his words like I was some stupid kid. "You were human, right? Now you're a vamp. It happens. This is life. You need a guidebook or something?"
I don't know why, but I smiled. Shock, perhaps? Or still drunk?
"It happens, yeah?"
"Exactly."
I surrendered, putting my hands up.
"Alright! It happens. What happens next?"
"Next?" He checked his watch. "Next, you're gonna go wash your face, and then we'll go get a drink."
It being very early on a Sunday, we did not cruise the bars but docked at the closest one. "Harriet" as it was called, was a "last resort" kind of an establishment, filled with only the drunkest and least attractive of the party-doers. We rejected the advances of some of them and landed our asses at a faraway table.
"Guidebook?" I started the conversation "I think I'd actually take one. You got it... the vampire I've been living with for half a year?"
Saul smiled, waving us a couple of whiskeys.
"Well fine, what do you want to know?"
"Hmm," I sipped on my drink, trying to figure out where to start. "So, I'm a vampire?"
Saul sighed, visibly bored. "Yes. Obviously. Didn't we cover this already?" He rolled his eyes and then moved them to wink at a dead-drunk girl at the bar. That was Saul for you.
"What does that mean?"
"What does anything mean? It's just stuff that happens. I'm not gonna sit here and waste my life pondering the reasons of existence."
I was growing tired of his evasiveness.
"Freaking tell me what the hell I am!"
That got his attention. From the way he looked at me, with that little grin, he might have been waiting for me to get angry.
"Alright. Well, most of the stuff you already know... From the movies and books and things. You died, were brought back and now need blood to survive. Human blood that is. And you're pretty much immortal."
"But not all the way?"
Saul shrugged, oddly uncertain. "Well, no. I guess there are some ways you could die."
"Like a stake to the heart?"
He shook his head, firmly.
"No. That is fiction crap. Or, you know, technically a stake could kill you, as could a sword or a bullet, but only if you haven't fed for a while. Keep your belly full and shouldn't be a problem." He paused, drinking. "And, I guess some vamps are probably strong enough to rip your head off... But that hardly ever happens. We're a friendly bunch." He winked.
"How many are there...? Of you?"
"You mean us?" He winked, "not sure. But the numbers are kept under control."
"By who?"
"The government, or whatever. Not human though. Vamps."
"Vampire government?"
"Yeah. And they're not a fun bunch, mind you. Might bore you to death." Some lighting struck in his head. "You'll see. We got to go you there and register that I turned you. It's the law."
"What?"
"Yeah. It's a drag. But it has its benefits. For you as well. You should get your documents, so to speak, in order. You don't really have to, but otherwise, the law won't affect you."
My head was about ready to spin, but I wasn't going to stop Saul from talking. That stuff was new and freaking mysterious.
"The law?"
"...That other vamps can't kill you, and you them. Like the human laws for humans. These ones are just for vampires."
The vampire life felt stranger by the moment. Strange in a way that it didn't appear strange at all. It sounded, dared I think it, boring.
"So, you can't kill me then?"
Saul parted his hands. "Hey! I'm the one who brought you back... Throwing around such accusations. To think of it... I'm still waiting for the thank you."
I mustered some sincerity. "Thank you, Saul!"
He chuckled and we clinked our glasses. "Don't mention it."
I tried to come up with the next question, but he beat me to it.
"By the way, who killed you?"
I leaned back, curious to why I hadn't wondered about that earlier. "I don't know. I can't remember. Is that a vampire thing?"
"Nah, I think that's a booze thing. It'll come to you... And then you can, you know, erase her number from your phone."
"As if...? You're the one who likes the crazies."
He did not deny, but smiled and waved for a refill.
"Why did you bring me back?"
"Well, you're my bud, aren't you? Who would I drink with?"
"No vampire friends?"
Saul shifted in his chair.
"They can be kind of hard to get along with. You should know this. Vampires aren't like people. I mean, I like hanging out with you, but most only think of people as prey. We, as a species, are a predatory one, no point in sugar coating that. You'll feel it soon. Humans are okay, but vamps are better. Kind of an ego thing, I think." He grinned. "Just feel a stronger connection to your own kind."
"And then I'll start hunting?"
"Yeah. It's not really a big deal. It gets easier with every kill. Natural, really. But, best to stay away from those who enjoy killing a bit too much. They are always trouble."
"If you say so."
He leaned forward, more serious.
"Other things. Mind control – it's real. I can teach you. They should go over this at the embassy, but the short of it is that you can't go overboard. The government
has it all set up, so you can't go around and like start a nuclear war... And you'll regret trying. And, as I said, you can't kill vamps, and they can't kill you."
Saul paused, looking both ways. He continued with a hush. "And, currently we have a no aggression pact with the witches. So, they are off-limits as well."
"Witches?" My voice went high like a child's.
"Yeah. You do not want to mess with the witches." He shook his head dramatically. "Never mess with the witches. Vamp life is great. A lot more fun and loving than what you'd see on the telly. But witches, they are dark. Deeply black-dark. Very dangerous."
To be honest, I wasn't too frightened. I had me a new kind of boldness, and it felt great.
"Alright! But how do I know who's a witch, who's a vampire?"
"You can sense them, vamps. The closer the blood-connection the stronger the sense. But witches, them you can't sense. But they'll recognize you like THAT," he snapped his fingers, "so, as per the treaty, it's their job to get out of the way and make sure you don't eat them."
"Okay. Makes sense." I didn't really think it did though. But I was feeling fantastic. All that mystery and the supernatural, it was like a drug.
I went down the list. "Vampires, witches... How about werewolves? They real as well?"
Saul turned a bit sourer, I could tell. But he did continue.
"Kind of, yeah. A while back, when we were at war with the witches. The way they say, werewolves were the weapons they used against us. Basically, when they got tired of fighting in the front lines themselves, they poisoned humans with their magic and made them lethal to vamps... Turned them into monsters really. But they aren't around anymore. The treaty forced them to get rid of the wolves. Just vamps and witches now... And with any luck, you'll never meet the latter."
I nodded, going over all the new information.
Saul finished his drink and got up.
"Let's go now."
"Already?" I wasn't feeling like going home or to bed. The excitement of my new self was tingling every one of my nerves.
"Yeah. We got to go register you."
"Right now?"
"Within twenty-four hours. And the lines can be long."
I finished my drink, excited by the idea of checking out the vampire embassy.
"Alright! Let's go!" I jumped up, almost euphoric.
Saul looked at me, chuckling. "Boy, aren't you in for a disappointment."