Chapter 21 – Jack
Chapter Twenty-One
Jack
Any vampire who tells you they don’t miss the day is lying.
You can stave it off for a year or two, a decade, perhaps—but there’s going to come a point in time when you’re watching a movie, or looking at a magazine, and you see the sun crest over the edge of the earth and some vestigial part of your long-denied humanity rises up from the tar pit of your soul to say: Goddamn. I miss that.
I expect that a fair amount of them just choose to die right then and there.
I mean, you can see the sun again as a vampire—it’s just that it’ll be the last thing you ever do.
So I imagine that that’s it, for the ones that haven’t managed to fulfill themselves in some other craven way, who haven’t sated themselves with bloodlust or lust-lust or whatever else a person does to keep themselves occupied the second you realize that your days—well, the night part of your days—will be essentially unnumbered.
I hadn’t gotten there personally yet, I didn’t think—but when there was a sudden unexpected warm and comforting light all around me, as bright as the Texas noon-time sun after you’ve laid down on a lawn with the sprinklers running—a part of me that I could hear quite clearly was all:
Yes.
About fucking time.
Finally.