“This is useless” Eric mumbled.

Sitting back in his black office chair, throwing his pen against the back of the desk he stared at the football posters on the wall. Adjusting his uncomfortable posture, pulling at his shirt, Eric grunted. He noticed a mustard stain on his grey button up, his furious rubbing proved to no avail. A half empty bottle of gin sat on the mahogany table in the small office corner, a desk haphazardly shoved next to it. Rain beat against the window behind the desk, but that was barely noticeable, it was London, it always rained. Eric moved his hand through his short brown hair; he was foggy, unfocused, and uneasy due to no fault of the untouched gin… Sighing heavily, he stood up; there was a small ripping noise. His pocket had caught on the desk in front of him. With a non-committal shrug Eric grabbed his black leather coat off the back of the chair and headed for the front door. Grabbing his cell phone and wallet from the back of his auburn couch he walked out into the dark drizzle of old London.

With the rain gently touching his shoulders and consumed in thought, Eric walked down a deserted cobblestone road, the shadows muted by lamplight. All he wanted was time enough to browse the library and relax. Life was making that difficult, work was endless and 70 hours a week was bleeding him out. Eric stopped; he had wandered into a rather large puddle. With almost no thought he calmly stepped out and began taking off his black running shoes to drain the water. When the dripping mostly subsided, he put them back on and continued down the morose alley. A light fog had begun to build up and the rain now barely a drizzle. He got a sinking feeling that this was the wrong alleyway to venture down and silently cursed himself for being so lost in thought. It was old, much older than the rest and the air had almost sour taste. A figure came into focus farther down the road, a woman; she seemed a statue carved into the middle of the street. As Eric got closer he began to notice her features. Never before had woman’s appearance struck him so, he generally found women meddlesome and illogical. Her height about matched his, she was clearly in shape and was not hard on the eyes by any means, nothing extremely out of the ordinary but her face. She was entrancingly beautiful. Having a fashion designer for a sister just about ruined Eric from judging women normally; it was always an analysis. Instead, what caught his attention was the almost gothic style of her black leather coat and elaborate red undershirt. Her clothing melded into the lower half and flared out in a tiered knee length black lace skirt with one side almost touching the ground on her right. What an intriguing style, and what a curious expression. Her elegant and hard face held an unsettling youthfulness. With her eyes closed and head tilted up, she let the rain cascade across her face, pure elegance.

“Don’t you love the rain…?” The woman said as she slowly opened her eyes, still staring at the sky. She twisted her head hauntingly sideways. That voice made every single rain soaked hair on the back of Eric’s neck stand on end. Could she be drunk? Something else perhaps? He decided on drunk and continue to walk, she pivoted to face him like she was rooted to the ground. Something was wrong, the closer she got the less it seemed alcohol was to blame for that comment. Then he saw it, from behind the nearby garbage a pair of feet could just be made out through the fog. Had this woman…?

His initial thought was this is where I should turn around, but his legs never moved an inch. Her smile grew, before he could turn around her arm linked in his, she had covered the distance between them in a fraction of a second, it had to have been 10 meters. Eric’s brain must be playing tricks on him, nobody can move that fast, great time to space out genius.

“With whom do I have the pleasure of sharing this night with?” Said the woman in black and red.

Eric was completely baffled, something was off about her, not in an unpleasant way though. What he was most caught off guard by was her eyes. She clearly wasn’t wearing contacts yet her eyes had a sanguine hue to match the cherry lips and almost luminescent skin.

“Eh...Er...Eric W…Winter” He swallowed hard. “And you?” His best attempt at a smile must have looked ridiculous because the woman giggled, it sounded almost ethereal. This clearly was no ordinary woman; people like this only existed in fairy tales or nightmares. Her movement was too elegant, her appearance without flaw, it was almost magic, if magic were real.

“Lady Scarlett Devereux, sir” She gave a small curtsey. When she looked up she laughed, apparently the face Eric had dawned was quite comical. He had never been addressed so formally by anyone, especially someone like this, and at the turn of the 21st century. “Now what would a young man like yourself be doing walking through the rain at almost one with such a solemn look?” A malicious grin. “You look like someone died” His eyes darted to the trashcan.

Eric’s mind went into overdrive; he had no idea how to respond, she was staring right at him. Thoughts bombarded his mind like arrows shot from a line of longbow men. Something about her made his brain malfunction.

“I...Uh...was…wishing the rain to turn red.”

He thought for sure she would find it humorous considering the peculiar comment earlier, and she also seemed fond of the color. Hopefully his wit would be his saving grace and he could find some way to get out of here. Silence suddenly pierced the night; Scarlett’s head snapped, facing his, no longer in a coy tilt. The rain started to increase in intensity.

“Never in all the nights, has ever someone said that to me, but once” Her face was cold and serious. She grabbed his arm in a flash and forced him against a building. Eric coughed; the wind was almost knocked out of him

“Why did you say that?” Her voice like ice. Damn she is strong Eric thought, her grip felt like nothing short of tempered steel. The rain began to pour. The world stopped, his focus only on her, the water running down her black hair, intensity and pain brimming in her wine colored eyes.

“I…I…don’t know” he coughed “you seem to…” he trailed off and writhed under the insurmountable grips of this woman. Looking both ways down the alley hoping someone would walk by, though the thought of such a slender girl overpowering him was still trying to work itself out in his head. Panic welled up in his chest; he was beginning to put enough pieces of the puzzle together to realize that he was in trouble.

“WHY!?!” Scarlett jolted, and that’s when he saw them, long slender ivory fangs that glistened in her mouth. His brain flat lined, the swirl of thoughts previously being worked out vanished. She was a vampire, a real vampire. Trouble is those didn’t exist, they were fairy tales for children. Scarlett eased up a bit when she realized that Eric saw what she held in her mouth. The sadness surfaced in her eyes and she looked down. “I suppose this conversation is ruined…”

“You…You’re…bullshit” Eric stumbled over his words like his tongue was covered in molasses. Struggling slightly to get his feat back on the ground.

Scarlett’s lips became a thin line and a slow breath escaped her nose “This isn’t how I wanted this to go, not at all” She sighed heavier “I suppose this is the part where you plead for me not to kill you, that you have a family, that you can offer me money or whatever” Eric shifted, uncomfortable. The woman cursing under her breath punched the old brick wall, cracks appeared. He could feel the panic was being replaced by terror welling up in his chest; this beautiful woman was the nightmare under your bed, the reaper, an angel of death. Was he supposed to run now? Surely he missed his chance earlier. When confronted by a predator the animals who run, die, but some fight back and the predator leaves them alone. This was his only chance, all or nothing. “No, Ms. Devereux w…would y…you like to continue our walk? I would appreciate n…not being assaulted” If that was the best display confidence then he surely was dead, and not even 25.

Her head snapped up, a vexing look upon her face. “Yes, my outburst was… unwarranted, please forgive me. You only meant it in jest” She released his wrist that was already starting to bruise. “It’s just that someone from a time long past once said that to me and it was not so lighthearted.” In a sudden flood of boldness, Eric took her arm. He couldn’t help it, something about her tone made him want to comfort her. Damn his archaic sense of chivalry, between the strands of black hair he saw her smile. “Well, that is a first”

The rain came in droves now but he didn’t care, for the first time in a while he knew excitement, the fog of his tedious existence lifted. His troubles with work seemed so distant, so insignificant now that he had the attention of something the world thought incorporeal. They walked silently for a few blocks, Scarlett stopped, and before Eric could make an inquiry she pulled closer and whispered.

“You are a unique person Eric Winter. I hadn’t planned on the this but what you have shown me tonight will be sufficient. Your destiny has never been your own and I think that you will make a fine companion. Not many would have taken my arm again, I hope you survive this.” In a flash she was at his neck. She gracefully ripped the first two buttons off his shirt and slid her face downward; He felt her fangs slide into his chest as darkness overtook him. Searing pain vaulted through his body, something was spreading through him like ice through his veins. Collapsing into a heap on the wet cobblestone alley with a small scream inaudible through the roar of the downpour, Eric found himself unable to move. As the world faded he caught a glimpse of her once last time, she placed a small crested vial in his breast pocket. Walking away another harmonious laugh floated over the raindrops.

As Scarlett turned the corner, worried that she may have killed the only key in 700 years she was satisfied with what the night had accomplished, a hint of apprehension lingered in the back of her mind. There is a good change turning him, but she had injected him with so much venom that it should increase the chance to about 83% survival. Taking off at a brisk pace she continued down the road, thankful that the older parts of London were not lit as well. Not like she wouldn’t be explained away as too much whiskey or a ghost and that speed. It was best to not give rise to suspicion still, as humanity was creating more advanced technology the chances of being caught on camera were increasing. It was the turn of the century and the world was losing its ability to have secrets. Deciding to slow to a human walk as she approached her destination, Scarlett was still on edge. She had not given the man ample time to run or deny her proposal, a rule she herself enforced. People were so strange sometimes it’s like they possess no strength at all and then surprise you.

Scarlett really did like London though it had a certain melancholy allure that lent itself memory to a past time of grandeur. The buildings made of stones like the streets, scars of war could be seen visible on older ones from a few of humanities great conflicts. It was though like there were two cities sitting in the same place, one by day, and one by night. If she felt bold, once and a while Scarlett would tour the city during the day, catching glimpses of fashion or art. Having to make careful stops in shadowed or enclosed areas. The sun could kill her kind easily; even one such as her could only stand about 30 seconds of direct sunlight before incineration. This was made easier now that sapphire UV glass filtered out most of the danger.

Tonight however was a surreal experience, mists swirling and caressing the old stone structures of the Baskerville tavern. Enhanced vision let her pick out a man sitting on a worn wrought iron bench by a small garden.

“I knew you’d come” the man said standing, the occasional automobile passing cast shadows on the buildings in the alley. “They haven’t done anything my lady”

“I know, but it is the way of things, sometimes the branches must be pruned or the plant will grow sick and corrupt.” Scarlett said firmly, drifting off into the mists and the screams started.

Eric awoke to a dog licking his face, how much time had passed he didn’t know. Shrugging the dog off him, he moaned, and rolled over onto his knees. The sun was almost rising so he assumed it was four or five. People were just starting to come out on the street. Eric shakily got to his feet, something was off; his muscles ached and his head pounded. The memories of last night had not yet come back so he decided to go home. By the condition of his clothes three things must have happened he must have drank quite a bit, he must have fought something, and he must have wandered into a pile of dirt, all of which were odd because of his general distaste for alcohol, fighting, and dirt slumber parties. His clothes seemed to be a little tight, thinking that they must have shrunk in the rain he paid it no mind. The sun broke over the top of the nearest maple tree. He was by the small park that lies between old town and his residence. The sun bothered him, it hurt his eyes, not enough to take his mind of the burning in his chest, but enough to get a passing thought. He pulled up his black leather collar and increased his pace until he was at his place.

The large maple door slammed behind him, cursing under his breath, Eric was angry with himself for his outburst. It was a pet peeve of his, no matter where he was it bugged him a great deal whenever doors were treated unjustly. He sluggishly moved through the apartment throwing various pieces of clothing off his still damp exterior until only his white undershirt and blue boxers remained. At the sink, dishes piled high in on one side with a large collection of unwashed glasses sitting on the side opposite; he reached for a clean glass in the cupboard above.

“Never have I been so glad for a glass of water” He filled the glass and brought it to his mouth, he didn’t get more than a mouthful of water in before a revolting feeling came flooding over him and he spit it back out. There was one problem with the color though, it looked more pinkish than clear and tasted of Iron.

“Ugh, maybe not” he set the glass on the counter and turned around. Walking to the living room he bumped into the floor lamp next to the auburn leather couch, it crashed to the floor. Eric bent over to pick up the pieces and drops of blood dotted the carpet. He was no stranger to bloody noses, but the intensity of this one was particularly bad.

“Really, now of all times” he stood up, reached for a tissue on the end table by the couch and applied pressure to his face. It seemed to help for a bit for a moment but soon, where the amount of blood should stop, it increased. He started to cough, at first normally, but it wasn’t long until each cough brought a new wave of red. He began to choke; he could barely draw breath as waves and waves of blood erupted from his face. Eric knew he was in trouble and needed help, emergency help, every step he took seemed to place the phone on the wall farther and farther from reach. Collapsing only a few feet from it, coughs and spasms wracked his body, his consciousness began to fade. The pool of blood was immense and seemed to darken rather quickly; a rancid smell already began to permeate the living room. A memory returned to him as blackness’ entirely too familiar embrace took him. A woman standing in the rain with her head tilted back, smiling. The world went on for two days without Eric, and as always the world didn’t care.

Eric’s eyes snapped open, caked blood crusted on his face began to crumble off as motor control returned. He blinked, everything was blurry, reaching up he rubbed at his eyes. Both his contacts came out, the world was incredibly clear, it was high definition so much so that Eric spent the next 3 minutes staring at the beige carpet that for years was nothing but a sore spot of dullness to his otherwise wonderfully modern apartment. Whatever the case, he was glad to be alive and glad he longer felt like someone had taken a food processor to his insides. Slowly gaining altitude he rose to his knees and took an account of his apartment, it was an awful mess. The living room looked like a horror scene in which the special effects guy took gallons of blood and dumped it over the furniture to let it dry. Someone had clawed the nearby couch and table but it looked more animal than human. Eric rose to his feet and stood up straight. He couldn’t even begin to formulate what happened to him or why in a cohesive sentence.

“What in the hell happened after I passed out” As if vocalizing his frustration would let the dominoes fall neatly into place. He felt surprisingly light; still dizzy moving was confusing it required almost no energy at all. First thing is first he had to change out of these awfully rancid clothes and clean up. He took one last look and walked to the bedroom down the hall.

Everything barely fit so he decided to opt for one of the terrible “Fashion” sweaters his sister had been sending him for the holidays. It was blue with an intricate weave pattern embroidered on the front though Eric noticed that the machine making the shirt had messed up its threading in 5 places before he put it on, he also put on a used pair of jeans and nothing special for shoes, normal runners. Now that he was un-bloody he was ready to tackle the mess in the other room, he started out of the bedroom and an incredible hunger came over him. He grabbed at the sweater around his stomach, maybe some food would sit better. Cleaning this up would take most the night, Eric with a heavy sigh continued walking. Stopping by the couch he realized that he would need cleaning equipment beyond the normal household items. Maybe I can figure out what happened when I clean this up later. For now, I need to get out of here.

“Maybe a burger and chips would be a good idea before I tackle this.” Eric crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. Eric minimized the damage as best he could with a few quick movements of a rug with his foot quickly before he grabbed his keys and walked into the crisp night air, the time on the clock was 9:36pm.

He rounded the corner past the park to his favorite tavern, the walk took him quite a bit longer than normal. Then again he never noticed the craftsmanship of the wrought iron gates around his block or the fact that so many different types of birds nested in the trees at night. It was odd he felt as though all of the minor details of the world came flooding in everywhere he looked. What ever happened to him he was far from growing accustomed to the new sense of acuity and wonder. Everything was so detailed! Eric had finally made it to the tavern, The Shipman Yard, the best secret in old London. Few people ever came here during the weekend but he noticed the place was quite hopping tonight. Any other time and this would have deterred him from entering but the most wonderful smell was drifting from the door. Eric was a huge fan of anything that Rich prepared apart from the normal.

As he approached the door he looked through the cloudy windows of the patio and noticed the regulars were there. Blue bow tie guy was with another girl he undoubtedly met online. Red dress girl had her spider webs out and was playing visual tag with a guy 3 old stools down who was new to the tavern. The crazy lady that hung her green peace crusade cape was in her customary booth near the corner with way too many drinks already lining the lamplight shadowed table. He pushed the door open and stopped, confused, he couldn’t seem to go through the doorway. An invisible force held him in place.

“Eric, Come on in. Special today is mutton soup.” Charlie the bartender chimed from across the brushed copper counter top beaten and worn from to many glasses slammed down during football games. Eric suddenly went through the threshold, a frown crossing his face as the invisible force released. He couldn’t help but noticed that Rich, the bartender, had a stain just on his left-side collar, clearly to evenly distributed to be food and the color made him think that it may have been the passing of a woman who tried to kiss his cheek but missed terribly. Which was odd, if Eric’s memory served him well his wife was out of town? It wasn’t that important, and since he had arrived in the tavern the hunger increased at an exponentially large rate. Every table that Eric passed brought about a new smell that was complex and alluring.

Finding his way to the usual booth that had a small chip in the table located at the back of the establishment he cracked open the red leather bound menu and began to skim the wonderful selection of comatose inducing lard creations. A nearby clock dinged 10:00pm. The double bacon cheeseburger with bottomless chips seemed to be the winner.

What was that smell…

He closed the menu and raised his head, a small wasted waitress, whose suggestive clothing could intrigue anyone, stood next to his table twirling her blond hair. Cecilia Dart.

“Well ‘ello love” The Cecilia smiled, “Anything fit ya fancy?” She smiled slightly and leaned over a little with a clear purpose. She had a white button down shirt with a small green skirt on with lime colored heels to match the personality. Eric had known her for 2 years and she always was trying far too hard.

Eric’s mind locked up “I’ll have whatever that smell is” He said without thinking. A sharp reality struck him when his mind caught up with what he was looking at. Cecilia was annoying but not overwhelming and it seemed that lately anything was possible. She had recently taken to trying to impress the male clientele in hope to land an affluent business man this time as opposed to the rugged type about a month ago. Eric sighed heavily “I mean the double cheese burger.”

“Oh well I was sure you were gunna order somethin’ else” She gave a small giggle, and scribbled at her pad of ticket paper.

Cecilia turned and walked towards the kitchen, Eric was oddly attracted to her tonight. It was a recent development, a very confusing development because before tonight he paid her no mind. She was attractive but blond wasn’t really his type she was…bubbly. Something was different though and she carried a heightened allure, an X factor that set her apart from the people that he brushed past earlier. Lost in thought, minutes past and she walked toward him with his order.

“Cecilia, what are you doing later?” Eric said with a smile. Whatever this attraction, he wanted to find out where it was coming from. Odd -- he was never the guy to initiate conversation with a member of the opposite sex.

“Oh, uh Eric…well, I get off in ‘alf an hour. I really don’t have plans” She said shyly

“Well I thought you looked very beautiful tonight and was wondering if I could walk you home?” Something else was driving Eric now. He was never smooth or debonair; it was almost an instinct now, like he had done this a million times. He took a bite of the burger; it was like ash in his mouth. He spit it back out.

“Oh! What’s wrong?” Cecilia chimed.

“This tastes terrible, ugh I can’t seem to eat anything” Eric responded

“I’ll have them remake it” She offered

“No thank you my appetite is gone” Eric looked down at the burger; it seemed to be a normal double bacon cheese burger to him. His hunger surged, something was welling up in his throat, something wild and uncontrollable. The smell was back.

“Well I did offer to walk you home, and that still stands. I’ll be waiting outside”

“Okie” Cecilia smiled warmly

Eric put a few pounds on the table for his trouble and walked out onto the curb. It just didn’t make sense in his head how something could smell that good and taste so horrible. Something still didn’t sit well in the back of his head, it was that night. Every time he tried to remember that night in the rain all he got were sparse images and feelings - but nothing concrete to tell him what had happened. He still had a terrible mess to clean up when he got back and he hoped the neighbors wouldn’t complain about the smell or call the police. What was it about Cecilia that made him ask her he may never know, but his sense of chivalry didn’t let him chance his mind. Cecilia was about 23-24 he guessed and had two younger siblings whose names he couldn’t recall. She was pretty, sort of, and wouldn’t pass up the chance to talk about herself.

“Eric” her voice came from behind. She was wearing a black fake fur coat, still with the lime green heels.

“You really are going to walk home in those heels?” Eric said with a grin.

“I do it all the time” She said clearly offended

“Shall we go?” He gestured down the road. He began to notice little things about her, the walk, how she flipped her hair back when he looked at her, and most importantly how, every fiber in his body told him to get closer to her. They began walking down the street and turned the corner. A small park was on the right, sporadically illuminated by iron lamplights. Large old trees lined the path that wove its way through the center. Various bushes surrounded a small pond that was slightly off center to middle of the park. It was beautiful, and that gave Eric an idea.

“Hey Cecilia wouldn’t it be faster to cut through Nightingale park?” He said adding a layer of suave to his voice.

“I ‘pose it would” She gave him a curious glance and roped her arm around his.

They walked and talked about things for a little, the conversation floated between what Eric’s work and some of the ambitions that Cecilia had when she made enough money to move out to the countryside so she could travel. He explained that his family was from the countryside, and Cecilia warmed up greatly after that. The one thing that bugged Eric was that wonderful aroma seemed to follow them wherever they went. That’s when it hit him, Cecilia was the smell. Fire burned in his veins and it seemed as though instinct took over. Her perfume was absolutely wonderful; the time was 11:07pm.

They stopped by the pond, the dense shrubs made it almost impossible to see anything else around them. Eric was looking at the reflection of the moon on the water when Cecilia chimed:

“Something is different about you Eric. You look really fit, your hair is great, and there seems to be nothing that gets you down tonight, it’s a nice change. The Eric that has visited me on numerous occasions at the tavern always looked like someone had shot his dog. What’s changed?” She pushed herself against him. It was too much; Eric’s brain shut off all he could think about was the girl. No, that wasn’t it; he could see it faintly pulsing under her skin. Blood.

“You know…I am not quite sure, but… you...” Eric grabbed Cecilia’s arm and pulled her around to face him. His mouth pained him it’s almost like someone was forcing his canine teeth out from the inside. The smell was intoxicating, he had to have more. A small whimper came out of Cecilia’s mouth. His instincts did the rest; Eric pulled her head to one side and sunk his teeth into her neck, quickly silencing the scream that had begun to come out. The warm explosion in his mouth was nothing short of pure ecstasy, it was like someone had doused him in gasoline and thrown a match. The more he drank the better he felt, life flowing from her to him. It ran down the back of his throat and his head throbbed, nothing existed but this. Her body fell out of his arms she was alive but only barely. With his hunger quenched and the thirst no longer ripping at the back of his throat, Eric’s mind came back to him.

“Oh God almighty” He stumbled back tripping on a nearby root. The body of a poor girl clinging to life shallowly rose up and down only a few feet in front of him. He had devoured almost all her blood. Horror spreading across his face, he was a murderer.

A laugh pierced the silence from the other side of the pond. It was so familiar, like harp strings, Eric froze. That woman from the rain stood just on the other side of the pond. She had her hand over her mouth and a look of ultimate amusement cast upon her moonlit face. In the passing of a second on his silver Seiko watch she had run across the pond to now stand on the other side of the helpless girl. ‘She had run acro…never mind’. Passing her long fingers through her pitch colored hair smiling she said.

“You have to finish all of it you know?” The sentence flowed like silk out of her flawless red lips “Or the poor little creature will become more of a monster than you are” She laughed again this time with much more malice “Oh, and your face was brilliant, It’s not every day another vampire gets to see the first life taken, it is somewhat of a personal experience.” She effortlessly walked over the girl and stretched her hand out to Eric who shrank back. Abhorred at what had just happen he felt as though the very fabric of reality around him was slipping away. He was shaking, and felt like screaming. He had just murdered a girl he had known for as long as he had visited that tavern. It had felt so good but how could he have brought himself to hurt her, anyone for that matter. He was always the child who would take extra care to not smash bugs. Scarlett’s tone change a little more somber

“Bloodlust is a difficult thing Eric, right now, you must finish her. She will begin to change and the last thing you want is a mindless monster tearing its way through London. Or maybe you do? I have done it a few times, makes for a hell of a show.” Scarlett winked at him. “Honestly love, you must take every, last, drop.”

“I…I…can’t” He muttered, water welling up in his eyes. “We need to get her to a…”

“DO IT!” Scarlett flourishing her hair with a devious side smile, fire in her eyes. Once again the fear he had in the alley was back, this woman was not one to joke with “Or I’ll walk away and you can deal with this, issue.”

He couldn’t understand but right now this woman held the cards and he had no choice but to play. Eric inched himself back to Cecilia’s limp body before him, cupping his hand under her head he tilted it up. Her eyes opened slightly but Eric could see the fear, the disbelief, and pain in them. He had to finish what he started, there was no other choice, and he would live with this forever. Laying his head low the word sorry forming on his lips he moved to her neck and began to drink again tears streamed down his face, she would never walk through a park again, serve a burger, or travel, he had taken everything from her and from her family. What right did he have to do that?

Scarlett dipped her face low by his and whispered “Try not to make such a mess next time, you wouldn’t want to attract the wrong crowd” Scarlett stood up and straightened her posture looking around the vacant park. What the hell was the right crowd? A deliciously malefic smile spread across her face. He was strong; she was quite impressed that Eric had been able to resist the first thirst so long.

“I’m so sorry” he whispered as her body went limp.

“Shall we walk once more?” She quietly asked and again offering her arm to Eric who remained silently crying over the body of the innocent girl.