Lucius - Thousand Year Old Vampire - Part 6

6.1 I found a form of life that worked for me. It’s a pale version of what life could be, but I saw no other options. I spent days in self loathing and hatred for what I’d become. Only seldom I left my house. When I did the goal was to find criminals to feed on.

It became clear that I had no good way of determining who was a lowlife. I had to bend and occasionally break my rules when I grew too hungry. When hunger ruled me, I always seemed to find some fault in my victims.

One day someone walked outside my house. I convinced myself I needed to do something about it. I told myself someone searched for me, the killer, and that they’d expose me if I left that person alone. I wasn’t even that hungry when I heard him. I just wanted blood.

I think winter passed during the time in my house. I didn’t have a good reference and I could brood for days or even weeks. When I saw her, the nights were feeling warmer again. I pinned all four of them as criminals, shouting like they did late in the night.

An all out attack was an option, but I wanted to see what they were shouting about. I could attack them as a group, or pick off one of them when they separated.

The three men were shouting at the woman. She had a knife, but so did they. They were going to kill her. I felt so relieved, they were true criminals. Murderers even. If I stopped them I would be the hero.

The woman saw me, the men didn’t. I slashed the first one over the throat. The second I slammed into a wall, then bit into the last one. The first man would be dead before I got to him. Such a waste, his blood already spoiling.

While feeding, I looked up and saw the woman, approaching the man I’d knocked into a wall, raising her knife. “Stop, I need him alive,” I commanded her. She watched in fascination as I drank and asked if I was “one of them.”

The woman called herself Claudia. Wide eyed she moved closer. I’d seen similar looks before from men and woman when I played the lyre. But this interest ran deeper. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see her swallowing when I did.

Claudia followed me home and helped me bind and bring the still living man with us. I’d keep him bound for a day or three and get to him later.

It felt strange to have someone watch me again, I’d grown unaccustomed with people who didn’t radiate horror when they saw me. I got the sense that Claudia wanted to touch me. I didn’t know what to make of it.

She proclaimed me to be her saviour, that her life would be over had I not rushed in to rescue her. Then she wanted to hear everything about vampyrism. Claudia said she could never repay me but that she’d serve me as best she could.

I told her my story, left out a lot of parts. I said that she didn’t need to fear me. That I had my vinegared pegs that would ensure her safety. She surprised me by saying that I didn’t need to use them, that she felt safe with me.

Words to describe what we had fail me, some form of partnership. It turned out that she knew a lot of vile men and woman and she would lure them to me. More than once she’d place her hands around my neck as I drained her victims of blood. She said she wanted to feel their blood enter me.

It felt wrong but I didn’t want to end it, I didn’t know if I could. At times when I rested she’d crawl up to me and feel inside my clothes at my mark, the always open wound in my side. I could feel her pulling at the always growing nails there. She’d ask me if it hurt, it never did so she continued. I think she was trying to remove those nails.

I played the lyre for Claudia and sang for her. Even read Pompeia’s poem out loud. It might be wrong to say that my feelings for here were growing, but I enjoyed having her around. I loved that she was serving me.

She normalized my killing, said that I was doing the good work. She called me a divine creature. Living in a house that was falling apart, divinity felt far away, still this was better than what I’d expected.