Accounts of Ashlen. First night of Fall.
"I don't know," he says.
'Sam,' I recall, 'that's his name.'
He finishes staring at whatever's behind me before locking eyes with mine again. We study each other for a long time.
I almost feel immobilized by the conflict and chaos raging through my thoughts. This guy has some nerve approaching me after that hellish night. But I'm having a hard time outright hating or even being angry with him in the way I obviously should.
I don't know if it's the expression on his dumb face– those eyes look sad.
True, he *did* help me out but that doesn't excuse his involvement from yesterday, or whenever that was. And why the change of heart?
I harden my glare, shutting down the unwarranted sympathy welling up inside. I refuse to feel it for someone like him. He may have not hurt me directly that night but he stood there and did nothing.
"OK, so you helped me tonight but not when your friend was attacking me? Oh, My Hero!"
The wince is slight, but I notice his indifference crack at my caustic remark.
My lip curls in irritation. I feel bad for being harsh... and I shouldn't, he *deserves* every ounce of my contempt. I can't hold a grudge to save my life, even when I want to.
I turn away with a bitter hiss. My emotions are in control of me, it shouldn't be that way.
"I'm sorry..."
'He's sorry?' I scowl, about to tell him he can shove it where the sun don't shine but I hesitate upon looking back. The guy's brows are furrowed as he stares holes into my shoes. He's either an incredible actor or the remorse is completely heartfelt.
"There was nothing I could do for you then, I'm sorry," he says, looking away but still staring at the ground.
"Well sorry doesn't fix anything," I snap.
"You're right, it doesn't."
I feel like a bitch, how dare he make me feel this way.
"What do you mean you couldn't do anything?" I shout, "You can always do something!"
He stares me dead in the eyes, the former intensity returns.
"The minute Derek spotted you walking alone outside you were as good as dead. The only thing I could have done was speed up the process. And *if* I intervened, you wouldn't have been the only casualty for the night."
I'm taken off guard by his sudden aggressive tone, a little stunned. Sam closes his eyes and breaths out slowly.
"And the little I did made things worse. He's dead and you're… undead," he says more calmly but his eyes betray him, I see a genuine regret living there.
"Oh, so you're just the good guy in all of this," I sneer, "Is that it?"
"I never claimed to be a good guy," he bites out through a clenched jaw.
His emerald eyes flicker with a faint glow as he glares at me. I blink, his moments of vehemence are effectively intimidating. I quickly regain my footing.
"Then why! Why did the three of you chase me, what was the purpose of that? What were your intentions!"
Sam sighs at the sky.
"Why did you attempt to kill that guy just now? What was *your* purpose for that?"
"I…" I pause, mouth hanging open at his counter accusation, "I wasn't going to kill him."
"Yes, you were," he cuts in, wise to my denial, "You and I both know it. Now tell me why."
"No I wasn't! I'd never do that."
"Because you're a vampire, along with Derek and I! You were human so we went after you, just as you went after that man. *That's* the unfortunate purpose."
I gawk, not able to say anything back. It's crazy, this is all crazy but he isn't lying. I've experienced it myself, twice. The need for blood is undeniable. It's sinking in, this is my new reality.
His eyes wander about my face. I haven't a clue as to what he's thinking, but I'm so swamped in my own thoughts anyway.
I know something changed in me, but this is way too fictitious to wrap my brain around. Still, Sam is the second person to tell me I'm undead... a vampire. Juniper and Sam are serious, though their stability is questionable.
"I can't understand how you managed to turn. Did you somehow swallow some of Derek's blood?" he asks, then adds more softly, "Is he still alive?"
"Derek's dead," I tell him outright.
"I see."
The news leaves him looking unsurprised but glum. I don't particularly like seeing Sam upset, even though I shouldn't care. I should be happy about some justice, yet it doesn't make me feel good.
"I don't remember taking any of Derek's blood, thankfully," I explain, tenderly this time, "but something killed your friend."
His eyes are burning into me now, overly eager and kind of scary.
"Do you know what it was that murdered him?"
"Uhhh, I overheard you guys saying stuff about a Reaper. That's what it looked like."
'They were the ones talking about it, do they not know?'
"Didn't the Reaper try killing you too?" he asks, verging on interrogation, "What happened?"
He seems way too interested in the Reaper and why should I tell him anything?
"Why do you care so much and why would I tell you?" I echo the thought aloud, "I don't know you and I don't trust you! Look, I appreciate the help from before but now I want you to leave me alone, got it?"
As I turn for my apartment, I make a face, wondering if I'm being too rash. He's openly answered each question I've had and he may have more answers. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to dismiss.
"Do you even know who turned you? Did they tell you about the rules or the downsides of your new *condition*?"
I stop and spin around– I shouldn't be showing him where I'm headed anyway. Sam folds his arms across his chest. He knows I'm going about this blind, doesn't he?
"I don't get it, why are you offering me help? That is what you're offering, isn't it Sam?"
His eyebrows raise and his mouth relaxes when I say his name but he quickly looks past me.
"I remember being turned and not knowing a damn thing," he says after a while, his eyes are gentle when they wander back, "So, as far as 'Why', I suppose I can relate to being alone through the experience. If you want my help you have it but if you want me to leave I'll go."
I'm not sure what to do. It's not like I have a lot of options or people showing up to assist, but wouldn't it be stupid to trust a guy who's friend tried to end me?
I pull my mouth to one side, prodding it with one contemplating finger.
"Fine," I breathe, swatting the air as I pull my hand away, "I guess I *do* have a few questions."
He nods once, I wish his face wasn't so unreadable.
"But, once I tell you to leave, I expect you to beat it."
He snorts, the corners of his mouth twitches before putting that mask on again.
"You got that?" I say a bit louder, lip curling.
"Got it."
"Alright then, follow me to my apartment."
I start marching toward the Chinese take out place.
"You live in an Asian restaurant?"
I don't turn around but he sounds vaguely amused.
"No... I live *under* the restaurant," I say, passing the entrance and rounding the corner where the shabby steps begin.
"Ah."
We make our way down the filthy steps to the woven mat. I reach into my half apron pocket only to realize my phone is missing.
"Crap," I mutter, relieved to feel my wallet. At least that didn't disappear.
"What is it?" Sam asks over my shoulder, closer than I would like in the cramped stairwell.
"My phone is gone, I must have lost it the other day when being chased by a few *maniacs*."
I retrieve the house key from my wallet's coin pocket instead of viewing his reaction to my snide remark.
"Your name is Ashlen?" he asks out of the blue.
"How did you kn-" I glance over my shoulder then follow his eyes to my ID in the plastic protector. I glare, snapping the wallet shut.
"Is stalking and creeping a hobby of yours?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him having the grace to look ashamed.
"You should make it look like a break in," he says as I lean to twist the key in, "It's not a good idea to stay here anymore. Ideally, you shouldn't even be coming back for your things."
"Hmph, she said the same thing," I mutter.
He heard me.
"Who said the same thing?"
Irritated, I flip around to face him as I shove at the door.
"You know, I was under the impression that you were going to kindly assist and answer my questions, but you seem to be the one with all the questions."
He shrugs, "You haven't asked any yet."
'Fair', I concede. I'll have to fill him in a little if I expect help puzzling things out.
"When I woke up, there was this woman. She told me to forget about my human life. Basically, that I can't live the way I used to."
This appears to alarm him. His eyes narrow, I can tell he wants to ask more but refrains.
"Well, she's right. And living close to neighbors with a pulse is never a good idea for us. Unless you enjoy torment."
I go straight for my closet, digging around for my duffel.
"Don't worry about it, I'm getting kicked out next Friday so I couldn't stay even if I wanted to."
I snatch my best shirt off the hanger, tossing it in the bag.
"Will I always want to kill people?" I can't believe I'm saying this out loud and mean it, "Does it get any easier?"
"The temptation will never go away, but you get used to it. Some days are worse than others."
'Well that sounds delightful,' I think to myself in disappointment, forcefully throwing a pair of shoes in the bag. I look over to see him still standing in the stairwell with the door wide open.
"Umm, is there something wrong? What are you still doing out there?"
"You didn't invite me in."
'An actual gentleman?' I raise my eyebrows in wonder.
I'm about to tell him to come in before suddenly recalling a bit of fictional vampire lore. There's no way…
"Sam, are you just being polite or are you unable to come in without my say so?"
"Apparently it's a weakness from my bloodline," Sam grumbles, "So yes, I need to be invited or I stay out."
A devious idea turns into an impulsive curiosity. I get up, biting my lip as I take a few steps toward him.
While he's not paying attention I fly over, clutching his bicep and tugging him inside. He stops at the door frame as if hitting an invisible wall.
My jaw drops and I blink a few times. I didn't think he was being serious. That was impossible, like a mime come to life!
"Really?" he scoffs, taking his arm back.
I shrink into my shoulders, smiling timidly. He doesn't look impressed.
"Uhh, sorry," I laugh nervously as I back up into the safety of my apartment, "I just wanted to see what would happen."
"Oh? And what if going into an uninvited house killed me? If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to assassinate me."
"No, I…" my mouth drops open, completely flustered, "I wouldn't- I didn't mean-"
His stern expression turns into sly amusement, eyes crinkling as he chuckles.
I frown, "You're a jerk! For that, I'm not letting you in."
With that I shut the door on him, hearing a "*Really!*" from behind after it latches closed and can't help but smirk.
I get back to task, it's more difficult to be selective than I expected. If I had it my way all of it would come with me, but I have limited space in the bag. Besides, I should leave stuff here just in case I have to fall off the grid. Pondering that bothers me so I let my mind wander.
Funny enough my thoughts keep drifting back to Sam and his admittedly breathtaking smile.