“Help! Someone, please help me!” I scream while running through a part of town I am not familiar with, letting out soft cries of pain as I look for a place to hide. The wound on my lower stomach burning as my hand press against it, desperately trying to stop the blood from pouring out. I hide behind an old building and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. The cold night air filled my burning lungs, giving me a small moment of rest. Every passing second, something inside me is yelling, begging for me to keep running.
“Lena, come on out. I promise you I will make it short and sweet,” a rough voice calls out, bringing tears to my eyes as force myself to start running again. Looking around, praying, I can find a place to hide as I run from house to house. Knocking, begging for someone to answer. I reach an abandoned house with wood on the windows and paint chipping off the walls. I say a silent thank you when the door opens, and I close it behind me, grateful when it locks successfully. I stumble and trip over broken floorboards and old carpet as I make my way upstairs. Being as careful as I can to avoid the rotting nails protruding from the steps. I trip and curse softly when my wound slams against the rotting iron railing of the stairs. Biting my lip as I survey it, then find a loose piece and pull it free. It feels heavy in my hands as I finally get upstairs.
My body is confused by the rush of adrenaline and the loss of blood, not knowing instead give me more energy to run or to just give up. Room after room, I look to see if they lock or at least have something to press against the door. Just needing something to give me some time to think. I finally find a room with a lockable door and rush inside, locking the door behind me. Cursing to myself when I think about how the locked door would be a dead give away that I am inside. Leaning against the wall, I take deep breaths as I try to give my body the rest it desperately needed. Remembering the words my mother would use when she would help me calm down from a panic attack.
“Breathe, sweetheart, just breathe,” she would say with her bright hazel eyes looking into my dull brown ones. Then smiling softly once I got my breathing under control. Oh mama, how I wish I would have stayed home. Why did I let them talk me into going out tonight? I was usually content in staying at home with my art and my books, but I allowed them to convince me into thinking that I was not living my life to the fullest. Now, it seems like my life is going to be cut short. A sound downstairs causes me to break out of my daydream, causing me to go into panic mode.
“Selena! The game was fun at first, but now I’m irritated,” the rough voice growls as he throws things around, trying to get me to come out. Trying to keep calm, I look around the room then start towards the window. It’s stuck. Grunting and groaning as I struggle to get it open, knowing that if I do not get help soon, I’m going to bleed to death. I continue to struggle with the window gasping as I hear banging on the door. Hearing him yell, my name gives me the motivation needed for me to gather the strength to push the window open. I start climbing out when I hear the door break open and him struggling through the hole he made. While pulling my upper body through the window, I soon feel the cold steel slice through the back of my ankle, making me let out an ear-piercing scream that could wake the dead.
I use some of what’s left of my strength to kick him in the face. Rewarded with the sounds of him yelling him pain and bones cracking. A soft smile creeps on my face, proud that I’m officially not the only one hurt. I struggle to pull myself out of the window on top of the garage beside it. Groaning as I stretch myself across the gap towards my destination. My side on fire as I feel the shingles from the roof digging into my wound.
I get no time to rest as I see my attacker climbing out of the window behind me, blood smeared all over his face. The red almost glowing against his dangerously pale skin. He growls at me, making my eyes go wide as the sight growing before me.
“Are those fangs,” I ask myself as I watch his two front teeth grow longer and become pointed, and his small hooded cold black eyes turn red with anger and what also looks like hunger. I’ll even go as far as even say lust. I get up and begin limping towards a higher part on top of the garage, screaming for help again, praying that someone would help me. My body growing weaker as my spirit wants me to continue to fight. I hear him come up behind me, and I try to run, only to feel his grimy hands grab onto my freshly cut ankle and pull it towards him. I fall forward and hit my head on the side of the roof, so hard I swear I hear something crack.
Groaning softly as my vision becomes clouded while the desire to close my eyes grows stronger than my desire to fight for my life. I gasp and cough as I feel his hand, sticky with my blood, grab me by my throat, and lift me up like I am a rag doll.
“Please don’t kill me,” I strain to get out as his hand tightens around my throat. Tears filling my eyes as I claw at his wrist, trying to loosen his grip. He just laughs and walks toward the edge of the roof, panic takes over as I try to struggle more only to fail.
“Oh, trust me, sweetheart, if it was my choice,” he says as he brings me close to his face, “I would have some fun with you first” he licks the side of my face making me gag in disgust. This was short-lived as the growing familiar touch of his long steel blade pierces the bottom of my stomach again, this time deeper than before. I wail as he pulls it out and licks my blood from the knife. My eyes get heavy, dropping a little as I see what looks like a Phoenix tattoo on the inside of his bicep. “Such a waste,” his grip loosens, and I feel myself fall.
I have no more strength to scream as I know that this is the end. Looking at the beautiful crescent moon and the stars in the sky, the last thing I will ever see. Then I hear him laugh as he watches me on the way down, a deep cold sounding cackle that will be the last thing I will ever hear. The laugh that will hunt me in the afterlife. I close my eyes as a final tear falls, and things finally go black.
I wake up, gasping for air as the same nightmare that I have been having for years still haunts me. It’s been five years since I died, five years since I was reborn into this demon. Fear is replaced by anger as I remember what that man did to me. I let out a scream as I bang on the walls of my coffin, a cry that is a mixture of pain, anger, and sadness. My name is Selena, and I’m a vampire.