Nosuë: The Wandering Vampire

Ronald Littyan and his wife Taneka were the first people I had spoken to for more than three minutes in the last eighty years. It is hard to talk to humans, especially when you can’t look them in the eye without them screaming. There were no contact lenses back then, not yet, and red eyes were not exactly common.

Not that I was particularly talkative either. In fact, if I remember, those early conversations were rather annoying. Ronald would pluck the words out of me with red-hot pincers and insatiable curiosity.

“So, what’s it like?” the man asked back then, looking at me eagerly. “Becoming a vampire. I hear it hurts.”

I was sitting at the small table with him. Taneka stood off to the side, sipping tea. I could hear her heart: strong, fast, too fast. She was scared. She definitely didn’t like the idea of a vampire in her kitchen.

“Yes,” I replied, reluctantly.

I didn’t understand how I’d gotten to this point, to barge into a newlywed couple’s house, beset by questions from this strange human who wanted to know everything about us.

“A lot?” Ronald insisted. “The books say…”

“The books say nothing,” I replied sharply. “None of them were written by a vampire.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But vampire books are all I have to understand you.”

Why did he want to? I didn’t understand. It was the first time anyone had ever shown such interest in… us. No one had ever looked at me like that, or talked to me like that.

I grew up in a flock. I knew everything there was to know. Then, as a vampire, I didn’t have or get questions. But Ronald’s eyes sparkled with real interest, while his wife’s heart seemed anguished. I wondered if he knew. He should have.

“But becoming a vampire, is it really that painful?” he insisted again.

“Yes,” I replied, curtly. “Why? Do you want to become one?”

There was an exclamation, and something broke. A cup. I could smell the scent of spilt tea… and blood. Out of the deepest politeness, I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and held it out to Taneka without looking at her. She hesitated.

“T… Thank you,” she mumbled, obviously uncomfortable.

She took it from me and left the kitchen.

“Forgive her,” Ronald asked. “She’s a little nervous.”

“I know,” I replied. “Maybe you should listen to her.”

“Why?” he smiled. “Are you dangerous?”

“I’m a vampire.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

I frowned. Such a relaxed attitude surprised me.

Humans were not relaxed when it came to vampires, not outside flocks. Fear was ingrained in them when they saw us, when they thought we were real. That attraction… It wasn’t normal.

“No,” I said at last. “I’m not going to touch you or your wife.”

“See? There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Ronald smiled. “And to answer your question, no, I don’t want to convert, but I’m very interested in your nature, your… society.”

“Society?”

“There are vampire cities, aren’t there?”

“I wouldn’t say cities. Settled families, if anything.”

“Families… So you’re social creatures.”

“We can be.”

“What makes you different from humans?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Apart from the obvious?” I asked quietly.

“Yes, apart from feeding on blood.” Ronald laughed gleefully. “Speaking of which, how does it work, though? Does animal blood work for you?”

“No.”

“Well… I thought…”

“It can sustain us for a few months, but it doesn’t make us as strong as human blood, and we die eventually.”

“I see.” Ronald cocked his head to one side, staring blankly, as if taking mental notes on what I was saying, every word. “And other than that, what makes you different from me?”

I slowly extended my hand and indicated my wrist with a gesture. He raised his eyebrows and checked my pulse.

“Oh,” he said. “You don’t have one.”

“No. My blood doesn’t run in my veins. My heart does not beat. My existence is the constant wasting of blood that is used to replenish whatever decay in my body, and replenished when I feed.”

“Like... a simplified feeding process, isn’t it?” He seemed enthusiastic. “Blood is used to heal you, and you drink blood to replenish that waste. It’s fascinating. So what else? Do you breathe?”

“I don’t need to, but I can.”

“Digestion?”

“No. The blood enters and refills my veins. It’s immediate.”

“That’s why you regenerate so quickly.”

I frowned a little. Vampire hunters knew all that. They knew us… almost as well as we knew ourselves. It didn’t mean anything to explain those things, but it was strange that he should ask me. Suspicious, in a way.

Maybe it was me. Maybe I didn’t know how to trust a human.

Suddenly I noticed something. It was a thread as the tension broke, a thin glass as it shattered. It was the feeling every vampire gets when dawn breaks and a new day arrives.

I growled under my breath, beyond my will. I was locked in that house full of windows. Ronald gasped.

“Why,” he exclaimed, “Is it morning?”

I didn’t ask him how he knew my discomfort was about that.

“I’ve kept you too long, haven’t I?” He smiled brightly. “Time flies when one is excited. Look, we have a loft; there’s no light coming in, so you could stay there during the day, if you like.”

I looked at him, frowning slightly. He was inviting me into his house. A human was inviting me to stay in his house, in his loft. A day, two. It didn’t matter.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Ronald laughed in response, as if my politeness amused him. Humans.

Can you feel Nosuë's confusion? We can. He is just not used to this... but Roland is relentless, isn't he?

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