Post by tyrone on Oct 31, 2007 17:18:31 GMT -5
Something that came to me at work. all started with one line. "I never saw her again." I still haven't finished this story, so hand's off. ((You could mention me if you work at a publishing company, though... ^^))
TURNED (ta-daaaaa!)
The Story of a Reluctant Vampire
Prologue
One meets some interesting characters when one works in a bar. This night was to prove no exception. I was cleaning mugs to Billy Joel’s “The Piano Man”. The patrons of the bar were indeed ‘sharing the drink they call loneliness’.
There was one customer that was particularly interesting. It was an odd night when one didn’t see him there. He looked to be about nineteen years old, what with his thick, wavy brown hair and his expressive eyes. If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, then this man had a haunted soul, one as black as the darkest night. If one were to look directly at his eyes—a difficult feat, in and of itself, because of the way he bowed his head—one would be trapped; hypnotized by these extraordinary eyes, until such time as he chose to look away. He never said a word, just signaled a root beer, and attempted to drown his sorrows in it.
I was startled out of my reverie by a voice. It came from the man. “I never saw her again.”
I set the mugs down, and tossed the rag behind me. I leaned over the marble bar. “Never saw whom again?” I asked. I was eager to learn about the past of this mysterious man.
He ignored my question. “She came, changed my life forever, and left almost without a trace.” Then in true story-teller’s fashion, he launched into his story. This is his story, almost word for word.
Chapter One
“Catch ya later!” I yelled to my dad as he drove off. I was seventeen, but still hadn’t gotten my license yet. I merely rode around on my bike, and caught the bus back home. It was cheaper and more cost-effective in this time of $50-to-a-barrel gas prices. It was made even cheaper by the fact that the school I attended passed out free bus passes for students a mile or more from the school.
I walked down the stairs from the rear parking lot to the cafeteria. I stopped by the library for a while, and chatted on a rather popular forum based on a book I found in Borders one day. I did some roleplaying with IamFang, Geminex, and moon, and logged off. It was time for first period maths with Mr. Gehring.
“Ky Oppel!” the teacher called, and I responded with my customary “Yo!” Mr. Gehring rolled his eyes, and continued with roll call. My best friend Robert leaned over, and said, “You finish the homework?” I froze. He took one look at my face and laughed. “Yeah, me neither.” Mr. Gehring finished taking the attendance, and called us to attention. “Class,” he said. “I’d like you to meet a new classmate. Victoria, will you please stand up and tell us some more about yourself?” A pale girl detached herself from where she stood slouching against the wall. She was super pale, almost white. She wore a long turtleneck sweater that covered her neck completely. “Hey,” ahe said by way of greeting. “Victoria Silver. Albino.” She looked at the seating chart, and sat down next to me. Mr. Gehring frowned; he usually liked more of an introduction. He let it go. As he was teaching about logarithms and powers of ten, I felt my eyes drawn to the strange girl. I turned to her, and saw her staring hungrily at my throat. I stared at her, curious. She ripped her attention away from my throat, and she met my gaze. I couldn’t draw myself away. They were the most amazing robins-egg blue. Then I remembered something. Albinos have pink eyes. And her hair, curled around her fingers as she fidgeted. Shouldn’t it be white, instead of this amazing brown? I had to find out more about this amazing girl.
Chapter Two
I spent the rest of the day in a daze. Kjosness, Logan, Shapiro, Van der Veer, and Chamberlain, with their respective classes of Biology, Band, English, History, and French, passed as in a blur. During lunch, I had managed to work up the courage to ask her to go to dinner with me. (AN: There is no way in heck I could ever do this.)
I went to my part-time job as a Larry’s Market bagger. The official term is courtesy clerk, but everyone knows it means bagger. I finished at eight, rode to the Redmond park-and-ride, and caught the bus 251 up the hill. I showered and got dressed. Brown corduroys, red tee-shirt, and red plaid lumberjack vest.
I walked over to her house, and rang the doorbell. She came to the door, and my jaw dropped. She stood there, seductive in a form-fitting black evening gown. The light of the crystal chandelier glittered off the many sequins on the gown. Suddenly, I felt underdressed. She raised an eyebrow at my clothing, but said nothing. “Shall we go?” I stammmered. She swept past me, and looked for a car. “Where’s the car?” she asked. I cleared my throat. “I, er, don’t have one. I thought we could walk to this place I know of.” She considered, and I added, “It’s nice and secluded. A good walk along the lake’s edge. It would be just you and me, alone together.” It could have been me, but I could swear I saw a predatory gleam in her eye. “Alright,” she said, and proffered her arm. I took it, and shuddered. “You’re as cold as ice!” I exclaimed. “Would you like to use my jacket?” I asked her, quickly shrugging it off. She thanked me, and put it on.
We walked along the edge of Lake Sammamish, and I led her along the trail. The full moon cast a bluish tint to an other-wise lightless path, and I turned to her. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” She laughed, a high, girlish laugh, but a very hearty laugh. “Oh, haha, Me? Hahahehehe! Afraid of the dark, he says! Ahahahahaha, hehehehehehe! Oh, that’s priceless! Hohohohoho!” At last, her giggles subsided, and she was able to breath again. “Shall we go?” I asked her. I pointed to a turn-off. “After that, it’s only about a quarter mile to the place I know of.” She nodded, and we strode off.
I walked through the door of Chez Pierre. The head waiter hustled up to us. “’allo, My nem is Louise, et I will be your waiter tonight.” His french accent was atrocious, but I liked it. He sat us at a round table, and lit the tall candles with a taper. “Pour l’atmosphere, no?” We ordered, and the quick service brought us our meals.
Afterwards, we were walking back, and I decided to bring up a question I had. “So why are you so pale again?” I asked. She looked oddly at me.
“I thought I mentioned that I was an albino?” she said skeptically. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,”
I waved that aside, and went to my point. “But albinoes have white hair and pink eyes. Yours is brown and your eyes are blue.”
She glared at me. “That’s very observant of you. Do you really want to know why I’m pale like this?” I nodded, and she smiled. There was something wrong here, but I couldn’t figure out what. Then it hit me. She had inch-long fangs. Suddenly it all fit. Pale skin, cold flesh, and now the clincher, fangs.
I stammered, “On second thought, I’d rather not find out why you’re so pale like that.”
She gave an unholy grin of anticipation. “Too late for that,” she said, and then she pounced. I don’t remember much after that, except pure, excruciating pain.
Chapter Three
I struggled back to consciousness. Victoria stood over me, and memory flooded back. “You’re a vampire!” I exclaimed.
“Give the man a prize,” she said. She bent over so that her face was a foot from mine. ”Tell me, what was it that finally tipped it off for you?” She straightened, and looked into the distance. “I was really looking forward to staying here for a while, too.” I struggled to my feet, the lack of blood making me giddy.
“Why?” I asked, enraged. “Why me?”
“Because you were there, because you knew too much, and because I was hungry.” She tossed out her explanations almost nonchalantly.
“Oh, and this won’t make me know more?” I was past furious now. My voice was deceptively calm. I almost never get angry. When I get angry, for some bizarre reason my facial muscles act in a way that portrays calmness. “I can understand being hungry, but me knowing too much? That’s bull.”
“This way, you can’t tell the authorities without being exposed yourself,” she said indifferently. “At least, not without telling about what you are now.”
I took a deep breath. “At least teach me about myself now. What are my limitations? What are my strengths? Do I have a religion?”
She shook her head, and dashed off. I stared at her rapidly retreating back. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “Come back! COME BACK!” I howled. By this time, she had gone too far to hear the pleas of a confused boy whose world was just turned upside down. That, or she plain didn’t care.
Either way, she didn’t come back. “Great. Just great,” I muttered. I strode off along the trail. “What to do, what to do.” I walked the rest of the way in silence. How is one supposed to go about telling one’s parents parents that one has just been turned into a vamp? I walked up the driveway, and up the porch steps. I walked down to my basement room, and flopped into my bed. “Or one could just forget about it and hope it was a bad dream,” I muttered. I put my head on the pillow and was instantly asleep.
Chapter Four
EEEEENG!!!! My little brother’s airhorn resounded in my ear. “Whoa, where, who, wha!?” I jerked spasmodically around until I fell off the bed. I landed with a thud, and looked up into the grinning face of my younger brother, Benjamin. “Oh, you are so dead,” I growled. The smile disappeared from his face. I tackled him to the ground, and began tickling him.
“Ohno! Help! Hoho! AAAAAH hahahaa! Uncle! Hehehe hahaha! Uncle! UNCLE!” I got up off him, and he lay on my bedroom floor, grinning. “Welcome back to the realm of the living,” he said, still giggling a bit. This struck a chord for me, and I forcefully escorted him from my room. He giggled a bit as I shut the door behind him.
I walked to the en suite bathroom, and examined the man in the mirror. He had a pallid complexion. There were furrows in his brow as he met my gaze. He looked at my throat, and I at his. On our necks, there were twin purple spots; the only traces of color on our skin. I swore rather colorfully. I showered and got dressed. I chose a basic black ensemble; black tee-shirt, black slacks, and although I had to search for a while to find it, black jacket. All of a sudden, I really liked the color black.
I walked up the stairs to the kitchen. Ben was already seated at the table. “Watch out!” he exclaimed. “It’s the return of the undead!”
I glowered at him, and murmered, “You have no idea.” I retrieved a bowl from the cupboard, and the cereal from the closet. I poured the Cinnamon Toast Crunch in the bowl, and added in the milk. Somehow, it didn’t hold the same appeal that it usually did for me.
Mom staggered into the kitchen, and I, on the spur of the moment, decided to tell her what had happened. “So,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I had a really weird dream last night.”
“Oh, really.” She seemed slightly interested as she fixed her toast, so I continued on.
“Yeah,” I said. “I dreamed that I went out with this girl, and she turned out to be vampire. We had dinner at Chez Pierre’s, and then on the way back, she turned me into a vampire. It was weird.”
“Don’t be silly,” she laughed. “Vampires don’t exist!”
I walked around the island, and took her gently by the shoulders. “Mom.” I said bracingly. “It wasn’t a dream.” She took one look at my pale face, and at the purple spots, and fainted clean away.
(I've got thirteen more chapters and four more pages of ideas ready to be inserted in the story...
COMMENTS ARE WELCOME, REVIEWS ARE LOVED!))
TURNED (ta-daaaaa!)
The Story of a Reluctant Vampire
Prologue
One meets some interesting characters when one works in a bar. This night was to prove no exception. I was cleaning mugs to Billy Joel’s “The Piano Man”. The patrons of the bar were indeed ‘sharing the drink they call loneliness’.
There was one customer that was particularly interesting. It was an odd night when one didn’t see him there. He looked to be about nineteen years old, what with his thick, wavy brown hair and his expressive eyes. If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, then this man had a haunted soul, one as black as the darkest night. If one were to look directly at his eyes—a difficult feat, in and of itself, because of the way he bowed his head—one would be trapped; hypnotized by these extraordinary eyes, until such time as he chose to look away. He never said a word, just signaled a root beer, and attempted to drown his sorrows in it.
I was startled out of my reverie by a voice. It came from the man. “I never saw her again.”
I set the mugs down, and tossed the rag behind me. I leaned over the marble bar. “Never saw whom again?” I asked. I was eager to learn about the past of this mysterious man.
He ignored my question. “She came, changed my life forever, and left almost without a trace.” Then in true story-teller’s fashion, he launched into his story. This is his story, almost word for word.
Chapter One
“Catch ya later!” I yelled to my dad as he drove off. I was seventeen, but still hadn’t gotten my license yet. I merely rode around on my bike, and caught the bus back home. It was cheaper and more cost-effective in this time of $50-to-a-barrel gas prices. It was made even cheaper by the fact that the school I attended passed out free bus passes for students a mile or more from the school.
I walked down the stairs from the rear parking lot to the cafeteria. I stopped by the library for a while, and chatted on a rather popular forum based on a book I found in Borders one day. I did some roleplaying with IamFang, Geminex, and moon, and logged off. It was time for first period maths with Mr. Gehring.
“Ky Oppel!” the teacher called, and I responded with my customary “Yo!” Mr. Gehring rolled his eyes, and continued with roll call. My best friend Robert leaned over, and said, “You finish the homework?” I froze. He took one look at my face and laughed. “Yeah, me neither.” Mr. Gehring finished taking the attendance, and called us to attention. “Class,” he said. “I’d like you to meet a new classmate. Victoria, will you please stand up and tell us some more about yourself?” A pale girl detached herself from where she stood slouching against the wall. She was super pale, almost white. She wore a long turtleneck sweater that covered her neck completely. “Hey,” ahe said by way of greeting. “Victoria Silver. Albino.” She looked at the seating chart, and sat down next to me. Mr. Gehring frowned; he usually liked more of an introduction. He let it go. As he was teaching about logarithms and powers of ten, I felt my eyes drawn to the strange girl. I turned to her, and saw her staring hungrily at my throat. I stared at her, curious. She ripped her attention away from my throat, and she met my gaze. I couldn’t draw myself away. They were the most amazing robins-egg blue. Then I remembered something. Albinos have pink eyes. And her hair, curled around her fingers as she fidgeted. Shouldn’t it be white, instead of this amazing brown? I had to find out more about this amazing girl.
Chapter Two
I spent the rest of the day in a daze. Kjosness, Logan, Shapiro, Van der Veer, and Chamberlain, with their respective classes of Biology, Band, English, History, and French, passed as in a blur. During lunch, I had managed to work up the courage to ask her to go to dinner with me. (AN: There is no way in heck I could ever do this.)
I went to my part-time job as a Larry’s Market bagger. The official term is courtesy clerk, but everyone knows it means bagger. I finished at eight, rode to the Redmond park-and-ride, and caught the bus 251 up the hill. I showered and got dressed. Brown corduroys, red tee-shirt, and red plaid lumberjack vest.
I walked over to her house, and rang the doorbell. She came to the door, and my jaw dropped. She stood there, seductive in a form-fitting black evening gown. The light of the crystal chandelier glittered off the many sequins on the gown. Suddenly, I felt underdressed. She raised an eyebrow at my clothing, but said nothing. “Shall we go?” I stammmered. She swept past me, and looked for a car. “Where’s the car?” she asked. I cleared my throat. “I, er, don’t have one. I thought we could walk to this place I know of.” She considered, and I added, “It’s nice and secluded. A good walk along the lake’s edge. It would be just you and me, alone together.” It could have been me, but I could swear I saw a predatory gleam in her eye. “Alright,” she said, and proffered her arm. I took it, and shuddered. “You’re as cold as ice!” I exclaimed. “Would you like to use my jacket?” I asked her, quickly shrugging it off. She thanked me, and put it on.
We walked along the edge of Lake Sammamish, and I led her along the trail. The full moon cast a bluish tint to an other-wise lightless path, and I turned to her. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” She laughed, a high, girlish laugh, but a very hearty laugh. “Oh, haha, Me? Hahahehehe! Afraid of the dark, he says! Ahahahahaha, hehehehehehe! Oh, that’s priceless! Hohohohoho!” At last, her giggles subsided, and she was able to breath again. “Shall we go?” I asked her. I pointed to a turn-off. “After that, it’s only about a quarter mile to the place I know of.” She nodded, and we strode off.
I walked through the door of Chez Pierre. The head waiter hustled up to us. “’allo, My nem is Louise, et I will be your waiter tonight.” His french accent was atrocious, but I liked it. He sat us at a round table, and lit the tall candles with a taper. “Pour l’atmosphere, no?” We ordered, and the quick service brought us our meals.
Afterwards, we were walking back, and I decided to bring up a question I had. “So why are you so pale again?” I asked. She looked oddly at me.
“I thought I mentioned that I was an albino?” she said skeptically. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,”
I waved that aside, and went to my point. “But albinoes have white hair and pink eyes. Yours is brown and your eyes are blue.”
She glared at me. “That’s very observant of you. Do you really want to know why I’m pale like this?” I nodded, and she smiled. There was something wrong here, but I couldn’t figure out what. Then it hit me. She had inch-long fangs. Suddenly it all fit. Pale skin, cold flesh, and now the clincher, fangs.
I stammered, “On second thought, I’d rather not find out why you’re so pale like that.”
She gave an unholy grin of anticipation. “Too late for that,” she said, and then she pounced. I don’t remember much after that, except pure, excruciating pain.
Chapter Three
I struggled back to consciousness. Victoria stood over me, and memory flooded back. “You’re a vampire!” I exclaimed.
“Give the man a prize,” she said. She bent over so that her face was a foot from mine. ”Tell me, what was it that finally tipped it off for you?” She straightened, and looked into the distance. “I was really looking forward to staying here for a while, too.” I struggled to my feet, the lack of blood making me giddy.
“Why?” I asked, enraged. “Why me?”
“Because you were there, because you knew too much, and because I was hungry.” She tossed out her explanations almost nonchalantly.
“Oh, and this won’t make me know more?” I was past furious now. My voice was deceptively calm. I almost never get angry. When I get angry, for some bizarre reason my facial muscles act in a way that portrays calmness. “I can understand being hungry, but me knowing too much? That’s bull.”
“This way, you can’t tell the authorities without being exposed yourself,” she said indifferently. “At least, not without telling about what you are now.”
I took a deep breath. “At least teach me about myself now. What are my limitations? What are my strengths? Do I have a religion?”
She shook her head, and dashed off. I stared at her rapidly retreating back. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “Come back! COME BACK!” I howled. By this time, she had gone too far to hear the pleas of a confused boy whose world was just turned upside down. That, or she plain didn’t care.
Either way, she didn’t come back. “Great. Just great,” I muttered. I strode off along the trail. “What to do, what to do.” I walked the rest of the way in silence. How is one supposed to go about telling one’s parents parents that one has just been turned into a vamp? I walked up the driveway, and up the porch steps. I walked down to my basement room, and flopped into my bed. “Or one could just forget about it and hope it was a bad dream,” I muttered. I put my head on the pillow and was instantly asleep.
Chapter Four
EEEEENG!!!! My little brother’s airhorn resounded in my ear. “Whoa, where, who, wha!?” I jerked spasmodically around until I fell off the bed. I landed with a thud, and looked up into the grinning face of my younger brother, Benjamin. “Oh, you are so dead,” I growled. The smile disappeared from his face. I tackled him to the ground, and began tickling him.
“Ohno! Help! Hoho! AAAAAH hahahaa! Uncle! Hehehe hahaha! Uncle! UNCLE!” I got up off him, and he lay on my bedroom floor, grinning. “Welcome back to the realm of the living,” he said, still giggling a bit. This struck a chord for me, and I forcefully escorted him from my room. He giggled a bit as I shut the door behind him.
I walked to the en suite bathroom, and examined the man in the mirror. He had a pallid complexion. There were furrows in his brow as he met my gaze. He looked at my throat, and I at his. On our necks, there were twin purple spots; the only traces of color on our skin. I swore rather colorfully. I showered and got dressed. I chose a basic black ensemble; black tee-shirt, black slacks, and although I had to search for a while to find it, black jacket. All of a sudden, I really liked the color black.
I walked up the stairs to the kitchen. Ben was already seated at the table. “Watch out!” he exclaimed. “It’s the return of the undead!”
I glowered at him, and murmered, “You have no idea.” I retrieved a bowl from the cupboard, and the cereal from the closet. I poured the Cinnamon Toast Crunch in the bowl, and added in the milk. Somehow, it didn’t hold the same appeal that it usually did for me.
Mom staggered into the kitchen, and I, on the spur of the moment, decided to tell her what had happened. “So,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I had a really weird dream last night.”
“Oh, really.” She seemed slightly interested as she fixed her toast, so I continued on.
“Yeah,” I said. “I dreamed that I went out with this girl, and she turned out to be vampire. We had dinner at Chez Pierre’s, and then on the way back, she turned me into a vampire. It was weird.”
“Don’t be silly,” she laughed. “Vampires don’t exist!”
I walked around the island, and took her gently by the shoulders. “Mom.” I said bracingly. “It wasn’t a dream.” She took one look at my pale face, and at the purple spots, and fainted clean away.
(I've got thirteen more chapters and four more pages of ideas ready to be inserted in the story...
COMMENTS ARE WELCOME, REVIEWS ARE LOVED!))
