Lena had gone home after the attack, her body trembling as she crossed the threshold of the small flat she shared with her husband and children. The familiar sounds of home washed over her like a flood: the soft hum of the television, the clatter of toys on the floor, her husband's soft voice calling out to her from the kitchen. But something had shifted inside her, something dark and dangerous, and though she tried to shake it off, the feeling gnawed at her.
Ellie, her five-year-old daughter, was the first to greet her. "Mummy!" she squealed, running up to Lena and wrapping her tiny arms around her waist. Lena stiffened for a brief second before forcing herself to relax, stroking her daughter's hair.
"Hi, sweetheart," Lena said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. "Were you good for Daddy?"
Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh! But Charlie was being naughty. He wouldn't listen when I told him to clean up."
Charlie, her three-year-old son, appeared next, peeking out from behind the sofa with a mischievous grin. Lena's heart ached at the sight of him, but it was a different kind of ache than she was used to. It wasn't the warmth of a mother's love, but something darker, hungrier. She pushed the feeling down, forcing a smile.
"Charlie, come here," Lena called softly, kneeling down to his level. He ran to her, and she scooped him up in her arms, burying her face in his soft, curly hair. For a moment, she could pretend everything was normal, that she hadn't become something monstrous in that alley.
Her husband, David, came into the room then, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "You were gone longer than I expected," he said with a note of concern in his voice. He was tall, with sandy brown hair and tired eyes that lit up when he saw her. "I was starting to worry."
Lena forced another smile, her stomach churning. "The shops were crowded because of the riots. I had to take a longer route."
David stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. His warmth should have comforted her, but instead, it sent a chill down her spine. The thirst was already building, a gnawing hunger that terrified her. She wasn't supposed to feel this way around her own family.
Days passed, and Lena tried to adjust. She tried to slip back into the rhythm of her old life, cooking meals, tucking the children into bed, sitting with David after they were asleep. But everything felt wrong. The taste of food was bland, almost repulsive, and the scent of her family—once comforting—now stirred something primal inside her.
The changes started small. At first, it was the way she spoke, her voice becoming low, husky, her words sharper, more impatient. David noticed but said nothing. Then it was her clothes. Lena began dressing more boldly, her outfits growing tighter, more revealing. At first, it was just around the house, a short skirt here, a low-cut top there. But soon, even when she went out, her attire reflected something more provocative.
One morning, as she got dressed in front of the mirror, Ellie wandered into the room.
"Mummy, why are you wearing that?" her daughter asked innocently, her big blue eyes fixed on Lena's short, tight dress.
Lena looked at her reflection—her lips painted a dark crimson, her blouse barely buttoned, revealing far too much. She paused for a moment, the old Lena horrified at what she had become, but the new Lena—the creature lurking beneath her skin—smirked.
"It's just... something different, sweetie," she said, brushing off her daughter's concern.
Ellie frowned, confused but too young to understand. "You look... different," she said, her voice small.
Lena didn't respond. She couldn't. She was already losing control, the thirst becoming unbearable. It wasn't just hunger—it was a desire to feel, to feed, to be something else entirely. Every day she stayed with her family, she became more dangerous to them.
David, too, had noticed the change in her. One evening, after the kids had gone to bed, he sat down beside her on the couch.
"You've been different lately," he said quietly, his brow furrowed in concern. "Not just the clothes. It's like... you're not here. Not really."
Lena tensed, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. She forced herself to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just tired, David. The kids, the riots... it's all been a lot."
David reached for her hand, but the touch of his skin sent a shock through her body, the hunger rising again. She jerked her hand away, standing up abruptly.
"I'm fine," she snapped, a little too harshly. "I just need some air."
David stared at her, hurt flashing across his face, but he said nothing. He had been patient, but she could feel the distance growing between them. He didn't understand what was happening to her—how could he? She barely understood it herself.
The night before she planned to leave, Lena stood by the window, watching her children sleep, the moonlight casting a pale glow over their small, peaceful faces. She loved them. God, she loved them more than anything, but she couldn't stay. The thirst was too strong, the danger too real.
She had packed a small bag, planning to leave when they were at school. She would slip away, disappear into the night, never to return. It was the only way to protect them.
But just as she reached for the door, ready to make her escape, she froze.
There, standing in the shadows just outside her front door, was the vampire. The one who had turned her. His red eyes gleamed in the darkness, watching her, waiting.
Lena's heart pounded in her chest, her hand trembling as she gripped the doorknob. She had thought she was free of him, that she could escape, but now, seeing him there, she knew the truth. He had never let her go.
The door creaked open, and he stepped forward, his pale, angular face illuminated by the dim light from the hallway.
"You didn't think you could run, did you?" His voice was a low, seductive whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.
Lena's breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing. "What do you want?"
The vampire smiled, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. "You already know."
Lena's hand clenched into a fist, her body trembling with fear and anger. She had tried to escape, to hold on to her humanity for the sake of her family. But now, faced with him again, she realized she could never truly be free.
Not until she embraced what she had become.
Not until she fed.