Date Published: June 21, 2021
Publisher: ZB Publications
Issaquah, Washington, USA
My name is Norma Mae Rollins. I’m fourteen and an illegal vampire. I miss my mom, but new ghoulish appetites force me to remain with my creator.
Bill didn’t mean to transform me. At least, that’s what he claims. His frightening temper, relentless lies, and morbid scientific experiments makes it hard to know what to believe. However, someone snitched about Bill’s experiments to a nearby coven. Now both of our corpses will burn.
Bill won’t run. He is curious what happens to a vampire after final death. I don’t want to die again. It hurt so much the first time. Bill thinks his vampire boyfriend might shelter me. I must brave an eternal existence with elder vampires and other monsters who don’t think I ought to exist. Oh and figure out who I am allowed to eat.
A vampire’s reality is nothing like the movies.
Diary, there are movies like Dracula’s Daughter, which show the reluctant vampire. I feared losing control and missed my mom, dog, friends, and old life. Still, I liked being a vampire.
The sun sank under the foothills of the Cascades; we raced into the coming darkness. Though Bill slowed himself to not leave me behind, I was faster than I was as a human. We sprinted into Tiger Mountain’s thick stands of ferns and Douglas firs. The girl I was, the life I had, became meaningless as the night wind tousled my hair. My heart pounded with strength as we, Bill and I, jumped over rocks, twisted around trees, and climbed clay-covered slopes. I was Artemis: a goddess of the hunt and moon, dashing through the forest to find prey.
He signaled with his hand.
I saw our prey in Bill’s mind before I saw him in reality: a young, slenderly built man in overalls and thick flannel. Perhaps working, perhaps in college. It didn’t matter. His blood mattered. His flesh mattered.
Distract him. I’ll kill him, and we’ll feast. Bill disappeared into the darkness.
“Sir? Excuse me, sir?” I called to the man.
My victim’s mind exposed worrisome thoughts about what should happen to girls alone in the wood. The world was better off without such people.
Bill attacked from behind. The man shouted as Bill’s fangs sunk into his neck. It was not a killing blow. He maimed the skin.
I comprehended Bill’s plan. I jumped on the victim and ripped into the wound. His viscous blood poured into my mouth. Ravenousness compelled me to kill. I relished the taste, the scent, the smooth feeling in my throat as I swallowed his life force.
Our victim’s heartbeat fluttered. Gasping spittle dripped from the man’s lips. Heartbeat slowed. Stopped. The man was dead but not yet cold. I felt powerful, formidable, as if I was a conquering goddess of the night.
Still, this time I stopped when Bill instructed.
Bill smiled, his fangs stained with scarlet.
“I can’t wait for my fangs to grow in!”
The man’s boots were too big. They were discarded. His clothes were a little long, but once modified, they fit well enough.
Bill took measurements of the body and drained it of blood before he allowed me to gnaw on the flesh.
I was insatiable. With each bite, scarlet danced into my vision. Yet consuming gave me no release from the hunger. Though it was impossible for me to eat a grown man in a single night, I wanted more. All that mattered was sinking my teeth into the flesh.
About the Author
Elizabeth Guizzetti is an author, podcaster, illustrator, and a collector of dragons — the ceramic kind. Elizabeth lives in Seattle with her husband and poodle. When not crafting stories, she can be found hiking, birdwatching or hanging out at the dog park.