Interview: A vampire made, Alex narrative Who: Alex and NPC Eric What: A change. Where: The gardens of their plantation When: Current Warnings/Rating: Bloody? Alex dying? (Stop cheering, he comes back.)
For so many years, Alexander had been playing at the thing that Eric truly was. When he finally saw the fangs, he had only grinned and pressed his thumb to the elongated teeth. They were cool beneath the pad and slightly wet with saliva -- just enough to make the surface tacky. He'd had similar ones, but they weren't the same. They had to be fitted to his teeth, they required pressure to break skin, and all these took was the simple act of drawing across the sharp end to break skin.
He would have given every drop. Eric promised him that he would, but to take the day for himself. To spend it in the sun. Alex had already made his goodbyes to the star years before, but he still watched it from his bench in the garden, the marble cool underneath his flank and back. It hadn't warmed yet from his touch by the time the sun was firmly beneath the horizon.
The birds in the trees around him were already quiet by the time Eric appeared, emerging from between two giant live oaks. He looked like a wealthy landowner of the time and Alex smiled to see him.
"Stay like that." The order was softened by the way that Eric said it and so Alex did, unmoving as the true vampire came closer.
"Are you sure?" Alex nodded. There wasn't a tremble in his fingertips or a care weighing down his shoulders. There was only the weight of Eric on top of him and then a quick prick of fangs at his throat, painless as one hand closed on the back of Eric's neck. His fingers flexed, encouraging the other man. It was rare for Alex to give up his own blood any more, but he did so now as the sky turned dark above them. He watched it, lazily blinking until it became too hard to do so.
Then there was warmth at his lips and skin that was permanently cool. He lapped at the wounds on Eric's wrist and his mouth filled with the familiar taste of blood, sharp on the first note, murky on the last like old pennies. But there was more, some aftertaste like burning life and he drank deeply until Eric pulled himself away.
He inhaled sharply, the world turning sharp and then blurry in turns as his heartbeat sped up and for the first time, he felt a spike of fear. It was too late as the world went black and his heart shuddered, stopped. For a moment, he was simply still and then he shifted, his already pale skin turning slightly translucent as his own fangs, real ones, ones not manufactured by any dentist appeared and he sucked in a reflexive breath. Not that he needed to breathe anymore, not that his lungs needed it to oxygenate his cells, not that they could as his heart was still inside his chest. Stillness carried under his skin as he sat up slowly and looked around. Everything looked brighter, the greens like it had just rained, the blacks shinier, the whites like bright shocks of light, all of them vibrant like he'd been watching the world through gray glasses. He could hear so much more now -- the frogs and the deer moving in the corner of the garden, but more than that -- hunger gnawed at him.
"I'm hungry," he said, lisping slightly over the words.
"We'll get you something to eat," Eric promised and smiled.