Crimson Red
Thirst.
Thirst is yall Calderon can feel while his eyes glimmer in the dark. Deep crimson red, bloody and spooky.
His fangs were sharp, his throat was dry, his pale hands cater a long set of fingernails that pierces through his pale skin, making a vent, but he couldn't care any less.
He gulped. And then, he waited for the right timing before he jumps at his dinner, a whole buffet he could enjoy.
When the girl he was eyeing has turned into the street's corner, he jumped down from a three-storey compound's roof. He fell with great balance and still good posture, his lightweight body landing like a feather on the wet ground.
Yet another gulp. Thirsty, he knows full well that only human blood could satiate him right now.
A few steps is all it took, and the random citizen vanishes into one dark alley at one strong pull of cold hands.
"Wha... who are you? Don't... don't hurt me, please?" The girl pleaded, shaking, shuddering in horror.
He could feel the radiating fear, a thing he has become so used to, a thing that satisfies him enough before he gets into his seventh heaven in one straight suck.
"Don't worry," he mumbled, smirking and licking his lips right after. The smell he was sniffing was inviting, the rush of the poor girl's blood due to nervousness and fear were skyrocketing his desire to just bury his fangs straight into her neck and unload the warm body. "It won't hurt. Just a bit."
"Sir? What are you-"
"Shut up."
"Aaah-" the girl tried to break free from a stronghold when he finally eases his fangs on the patch of skin under his victim's ear.
He took hold of the girl's hair, then grinned evilly until it reaches his ears.
"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"
One hard thug and a push on the wall, the girl's head bumped and bled.
He was in front of the girl in a speed of light, and he immediately went back to his business of sipping on a container from his favorite spot of the human flesh.
When he had enough - making sure that he wouldn't kill the poor woman, he took hold of the girl's forehead to take the recent memories and make his victim forget, and then he vanished from the site.
He felt a pang of guilt strike his conscience when the hunger finally died down. His eyes went back to its usual lifeless color, light brown, and his fangs dissipated.
This life of his has been going on for more than a millennium, and he's getting tired to its hang. Thirst during the night, long sleep when the sun starts to rise, then repeat.
If only he doesn't have any reason to stay alive and live the unwanted fate, he would have gotten out in the broad daylight, hundreds of years ago, to end this ongoing and inevitable misery.
When the Vampire purge happened before the second World War sparked between allied countries, he was the only one to survive and live among all his kind.
He didn't know if it was a great feat to be proud of, or if it was actually a curse.
Living in secret requires enough self-control, sanity, and carefulness. And he was thankful to have an ability to manipulate human mind and make them forget, So, although the most he can do with peasants were limited, it was an actual blessing for someone who is living in secret, under the shadows, inside a closet.
In his thousand years of living in a world with continuous technological advancements and unknown, wide possibilities, he didn't find it hard to develop a formula to keep himself safe from slight burns from the sun - although the improvements and perfection he is thriving for were still in progress, incomplete.
He still couldn't walk around in the broad daylight without any protective gears to cover his whole body. He was always like a strange mummy, but wrapped in thick black leather instead of bandage rolls.
He was glad to at least be able to roam around freely. Soon, he hopes that the laboratory tests go well, so he could finally get rid of hindering clothes.
He walked inside his secluded suite, without any windows and openings aside from a private elevator that only he, could use.
It was his usual and empty space, sorrowful and agonizing, and he was used to it. Although he always tells himself that, no, he should stop the madness in this lifetime and just let it go, he couldn't quite refrain himself from yearning for a precise presence of only one person he always has in mind,
He clasped his chest, feeling his frozen heart tighten. If it was possible for a vampire's blood to rush, and for the tight muscle to pump red in his veins, he was sure that he will nearly be convulsing in unexplainable pain, in an inevitable heartache.
And then, he dozed off for the whole day.
~
1111 years ago…
When he was turned into a soulless evil, who lives with constant thirst to attack humans and suck on their blood, he went berserk.
One night, he almost died from blood loss, a bullet has pierced his right chest. As the only way to save him, from an inevitable death, he was bitten.
It only took near minutes until he wakes up again, with blazing red eyes like fire, with sharp and visible fangs, and claw like fingers. He was reborn.
Seeking for something to drink to satiate his thirst and hunger that is almost killing, he immediately grabbed onto the nearest human he was able to see, biting on the neck and leaving a mark, sucking until one reaper arrives.
They weren't able to stop him, even the Vampire who turned him has found them self beaten and wincing at the surprisingly strong impact.
Four. He has counted. He has drained four innocent human bodies, and he's still on a nonstop rampage.
When he looked up after the fifth, a horrified pair of eyes was already looking down his soulless and red one.
“Macey…” his voice shook, and his words has faltered. He immediately avoided the girl's gaze, unable to look straight in her eyes.
No, he said, not with a sign of blood dripping from his fangs, to his chin, and down the ground.
His body gave up, falling flush on the cold ground, and his thirst died down. He looked at his body, and he was terrified to find it covered with thick blood.
His orbs trembled, and he could feel himself crying in horror, but there weren't any tears left to fall.
The realization has hit him like a dump truck, a hundred tons above his head. He has become a… vampire.
He has drunken blood. He has killed innocent civilians. And he has revealed their existence in front of a numerous crowd.
“Cal… Calderon…” the girl mumbled, as she slowly walks her way towards him, a trembling mess.
All scared glances were on them, some people even lost consciousness at the current scene, some still couldn't believe, some were utterly amused, while some were already running away.
There wasn't any positive reaction, though, and even the fear in Macey's eyes was telling him that the girl was terrified just too.
“Cal… what happened, honey?”
“Macey, don't—” he backed away when the girl's steps went nearer.
It dawned into him that he might lose control over himself, and he might hurt her. If that happens, he would never forgive himself, he would despise the whole world.
He doesn't know what he is capable of — especially with a greater strength and speed than any human has, — so he stayed away.
He was afraid of what he can do, disgusted of what he already did, and guilty of obvious crimes.
Having Macey in his front didn't help him calm down any bit, and it instead broke him. She has seen him devouring an entire group, she has witnessed how he turned evil.
“Macey, do not dare go any near, I beg!”
With the fear of losing sanity again, and the possibility of him, attacking Macey in his vampire's subconscious movement, he ran away with a renewed super speed he didn't know he possesses until that very oment.
He hid in a cabin in the woods, with the kind vampire who has given him a bite in order to save him from dying. Or was it really to save him, or make him suffer even more? At that time, he wasn't certain.
They have learned that he has a gift to make humans forget, and then, the casts have been made. Vampires became legends again, non-existing creatures.
It affected people, except for one woman who has retained her memory. Macey.
He hasn't heard a thing from Macey anymore, and he was glad that the girl has understood the risk—
Or was he delighted? He wasn't.
Not until that one morning, the day he found Macey already knocking on the door, smiling with a welcoming embrace.
Macey accepted him.
~
He woke up from that same dream again. Dreams from when he was still a human, a simple boy living a normal life with her girlfriend, Macey.
His chest tightened at the memory. If his heart could break, he is sure that its shattered pieces would be all over the dark room he sleeps in.
His eyes shifted from light brown to dark red once more, his fangs showed inevitably. In a swift move, he ran his way out of the suite, up to the building's rooftop, and then he jumped high to land on the nearest building.
He ran, and ran, and sprinted. Until he reaches one alley that he thinks will be fine for this night's bewitching activity.
His knees fell along one unconscious body, and he doesn't know if the sigh he let out was because of relief, or disgust for himself.
In his normal state of mind again, he walked out of the vicinity when he was sure that no one was around anymore.
He went pass through a few people on the road, and he could only force himself to stop breathing, so he would not inhale their scents.
Looking up the faces he sees affront, he realized that it was yet another failed night.
Maybe he has to start a venture to the daylight again, if he wants to see what he was looking for.
“Hello, Jarvy,” he said when the speed dial has beeped. “How did it go?”
[ “Fine, Sir. We need to run little tests that would be done tonight, and it would be ready for trial tomorrow.” ]
He nodded, even though he was sure that Jarvy wouldn't see. He put his phone down and called it a night.
