Bailey's Transition

"You can't just leave her in there forever. She is going to have to feed eventually," Stephen told Darby as they both stood in the hallway outside the small dark room where Bailey lay.
 "I realize that but she keeps begging me not to stay with her. She is scared and I don't want her in there alone while I hunt."
 "What is this nonsense you're spewing?" Stephen said, giving the vampire a distasteful glare. "It sounds like sympathy. I thought we became vampires to get away from things like that."
 "Psh. It's not sympathy," Darby said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and trying to affect a more cavalier countenance.
 "I just remember how scared I was when I changed and I don't want Bailey to go through the same thing. I want her to have the support she needs so she feels safe as she transitions."
  Stephen looked at Darby with a blank stare.
 "That is quite literally the definition of sympathy."
 "Ugh whatever, Stephen. Go read a novel."
 "You have to feed her," he insisted. "If you won't go hunting then feed her something we have here."
 "All we have here is Thomas," Darby said, her eyes growing wide. Stephen shrugged.
 "So feed her Thomas."
  Darby's mouth fell open.
 "They are friends, Stephen. She would never eat him."
 Stephen winced slightly and looked down at the floor.
 "Oh this is entirely different from your situation," Darby said reassuringly. "Beth was someone that-"
  Before Darby could finish her sentence, Stephen had his strong hands around her throat and had shoved her roughly up against the wall. Darby gasped and choked as she looked into Stephen's angry brown eyes.
 "You don't ever say her name ever again, do you understand?" he hissed in a voice more terrifying than a yell. The female vampire nodded as well as she could and Stephen released his grip letting her sink to the floor.
 "The girl needs to eat," he said solemnly. "I will sit with her, you go hunting."
  Darby nodded silent agreement and slipped quickly down the hall into the darkness. Stephen turned the knob that lead into the room where Bailey was being kept. He closed the door behind him and looked down at the transitioning vampire who lay weakly on the floor.
  "Bailey has gone to get you food," he told her, sitting down and leaning his back against the wall.
  "I won't eat anyone," Bailey told him.
  "If you don't feed you will die."
  "Then I will die," Bailey said simply. "This was a mistake. Darby made it sound wonderful but it is not. I hurt everywhere."
  "You are changing. The pain will stop as soon as you feed."
  "I won't feed," Bailey squeaked, her voice breaking as she tried to suppress sobs. "I am not a bad person."
  "Soon you won't be a person at all," Stephen told her. "You are becoming a strong powerful being who does not need anyone to complete them and has control of their emotions. For the most part," Stephen added, remembering Darby's moment of sympathy and his harsh expression of anger.
 "Emotions aren't bad," the girl insisted. "And I like people."
 "Do they like you? From what Darby told me it sounds like you're not exactly popular."
 "And you are? You live in a big dark house by yourself and your only company is your books," Bailey snapped, then quickly covered her mouth.
 "I'm so sorry," she gasped. "I don't ever talk to people like that."
 "The transition is getting stronger," he told her. "You are getting angry because you have not fed."
 "You told me I would be in control," Bailey said, pressing her hands to her stomach as it began to cramp.
  "You will be when you feed and complete the change," Stephen insisted, beginning to tire of repeating himself.
  "There is no going back to who you were before," the vampire told her, as she looked up at him with hopeless eyes.
  "You either become one of us or you die," he said, his voice getting louder on the last word. "You die alone in this big dark house that you apparently hate and no one will know what happened to you nor will they care. And neither will I. I will drain your blood and discard your body with the rest of my victims and I will never think about you again. You meant nothing in life and you will mean nothing in death."
   Stephen looked down the pathetic whimpering figure of a girl and nudged her gently with the toe of his boot.
  "I sent Darby out to hunt for you and I can hear she has returned and she is dragging your dinner kicking and screaming down the hallway," he told her, perking up his ears.
  "So what is it, girl? Decide. Will you finish your transition or do I drain you now and toss your body to the birds?"
   Bailey writhed on the floor whining with the pain.
  "Decide, you pathetic bitch." Stephen demanded. "What will you do? What do you want?"
 Suddenly with an unearthly scream, Bailey shot up from the floor put her hands against Stephen's shoulders and pushed him across the floor pinning him to the far wall. Her face was flushed and her eyes were red as she stared directly into his.
   "Blood," she said, through clenched teeth. "I want blood."



 

When Stephen Met Michelle

  Stephen sat in the corner of the bar staring at the empty shot glass in front of him. How many had he had now? Five? Six? The bartender looked in his direction and held up a bottle of tequila. Stephen shook his head. He wasn't sure what time it was but he knew he had work in the morning and at some point he needed to be sober enough to drive home.

  "You cashing out, Steve? Sure you don't want another round?"

   "Cash me out," Stephen mumbled. "And quit calling me Steve." 

  The bartender smiled and walked over to a register that looked like it had been around since the early 90s. 

   "It's the new millennium. You gonna update your system any time soon?" Stephen asked. 

    "Sure," said the bartender, slapping a receipt on the bar. "I'll get a new register as soon as you get a new girlfriend." 

    "Really? We are playing that game again?" Stephen snapped with a glare. 

    "Beth left two months ago. You've been in here every night since and I haven't seen you even talk to a woman." 

    "I'm not here to pick up a woman," Stephen said, reaching into the pocket of his snug fitting dark wash jeans and pulling out his wallet. "I'm here to forget Beth."

    "And how is that going for you?" the bartender wanted to know. 

    "Fine until just now," Stephen told him, putting a dark blue rectangular card on top of the receipt. 

    "Sorry, buddy," the bartender said, giving his friend a sympathetic look. "I just wanna see you happy again." 

    "Don't hold your breath." 

     The bartender shoved more receipts of paper at Stephen with a pen on top. "Well have a good night, Steve." 

     Stephen glared at the man's back as he walked away. Clicking the pen open, he was about to write a tip amount on the line when loud laughter from across the room caught his attention. Four women who looked to be no older than twenty five walked into the bar together arm in arm all laughing at some inside joke. They traveled to the bar as one big tangle stumbling over each other and climbed into four adjacent bar stools. 

    "'Scuse me mister," one of them slurred, looking over at Stephen. "These seats aren't taken are they?" 

       Stephen looked at the young lady, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and her wide cornflower blue eyes staring innocently at him. 

    "Uh...no. No one is sitting there," he said, his hand still poised over the receipt. 

     "Cool," said the girl, turning back to her friends giggling as if something about that interchange had been very amusing.

      "Oh you all finally made it," said a voice. Stephen looked behind him to see a brunette in a royal blue dress walking toward the bar from the bathroom.

     "You said you would be here two hours ago," she scolded, sliding onto a stool next to them. 

      "Sorry. We left Jimmy's house late. He got a new puppy yesterday and we couldn't stop playing with him," said one of the girls who wore a dark red top, black pants and had long curly hair.

      "And it looks like you pre-gamed a little," the girl in the blue dress said, indicating her friend who had spoke to Stephen and was now slumping over onto the bar, her eyelids drooping.

     "Sydney was the only one who had a drink. The rest of us waited till we got here. What's the name of this bar, Michelle?" 

   "Her name is Michelle," Stephen thought to himself, trying not to be too obvious about staring at the beautiful woman in front of him. 

    "You gonna have another one, Steve? Or are you just gonna sit there like a bump on a log taking up room that should be for paying customers?" the bartender asked loudly. Stephen blushed as all five of the ladies turned and looked at him. 

    "Yeah I'm leaving," he said, glaring at the bartender and sliding off the high bar stool. "And quit calling me Steve." 

    Stephen made his way to the door grumbling to himself about being called out in front of strangers when he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder and a soft voice said,

    "I'll buy you another drink if it means you stay a bit longer." 

    He stopped and turned around to see Michelle standing there in her beautiful blue dress giving him a big smile. Her brown hair hung in loose curls past her shoulders and her brown eyes looked at Stephen through long dark lashes.

    "Well I do have work in the morning," Stephen said nervously, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

    "But I suppose I could stay for one more." 

   Stephen followed Michelle back to the bar. His bartender friend had just finished his shift and gone home and a middle aged woman with tan skin and graying hair pulled back into a bun had replaced him.

    "Two shots of tequila please," Michelle asked politely. Stephen grimaced slightly. He hated the taste of tequila. 

    "I haven't seen you in here before," Michelle commented, after they had both drained their shot glass.

   "I'm here most nights but I usually sit alone in the corner," Stephen admitted. 

   "A handsome man like you shouldn't be hiding in the dark," Michelle told him with a flirty smirk.

   "There must be plenty of ladies in this bar who would love to be on your arm." 

   "Maybe. I don't really pay much attention to the women that come in here to be honest."

   "That's not true. You were staring at me earlier," Michelle observed. 

    "I uh..." 

     The girl in the blue dress laughed.

    "It's ok. I know how good I look tonight. I would be disappointed if people didn't stare." 

    "You're very confident in yourself," Stephen said with a slight smile. It was refreshing to see a woman so sure of herself. Beth had constantly needed validation and assurance from him. 

    "Yes well I have reason to be. I am very powerful. And quite self sufficient." 

    "That's very attractive if you don't mind me saying so," Stephen said a little shyly, running his finger around the the rim of his shot glass. 

    "I don't but if you're going to compliment me I would appreciate if you look me in the face." 

      Stephen jerked his head up immediately and was taken aback by Michelle's direct stare. Her face and eyes were beautiful but intense and strong and he found himself drawn to them. 

     "There's something about you that's different from your friends," he said, gesturing to the four women she had greeted who were now stumbling around the dance floor hanging off whatever guy they could find. 

     "They are good company but they are not like me. They don't have what I have." 

     "And what do you have?" Stephen wanted to know. Michelle sat up straight and tossed her hair back over her shoulders. 

     "The self confidence to know I don't need any of the drunken idiots at this bar," she said, looking critically over the entire room. Her gaze rested finally on Stephen who looked like he had just been smacked in the face. 

     "Present company excluded of course," she followed up. "I can tell something is different about you. You don't have what I have but you want it. You don't want to be different than the rest. To be better than them. To not need them."

     "That would be nice," Stephen mused, thinking of all the recent nights he had spent longing for Beth. "But it's just not who I am."

     "It's not now, but it could be," Michelle told him.

     "How?" 

     "It's pretty simple actually," she said, biting her lip gently and looking longingly at Stephen's neck. 

     "Do you want me to show you?"