CHAPTER SIX
Ailsa
MY MIND WAS as dark and muddled as the starless sky above me.
I clumsily staggered along the narrow cobbled street under the sombre lighting of the flickering streetlamps further on up.
I was in the old part of the city, with no recollection of how I’d gotten here.
My mind was still swimming in and out of consciousness.
I brought my hand to my temple and rubbed it, praying for some relief from the searing stabbing pain.
What time was it?
Did it even matter?
It felt like I was really, really drunk.
It was dark so I figured it was still the early hours.
I had time, not much, but enough to find somewhere to hide.
That was if I didn’t lose more time of course, although even in my moments of unconscious thought, my body seemed to know how to keep me safe.
Almost like a primal part of my brain had taken over.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to relieve some of the stabbing pain behind them.
Through the howl of the wind and the noise of the traffic, I could faintly hear the comforting sound of rain against glass, tapping rhythmically but it did little to drown out my anxieties.
An uncomfortable truth gnawed at the back of my mind.
My life as I knew it was over. Nothing would ever be the same again.
I was so overcome with emotion that I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or cry, or better still, scream.
I didn’t know what was real anymore.
To make matters worse, the night refused to sit still.
Everything pressed in at once, from all sides. The scrape of a shoe half a street away, the uneven rhythm of someone’s breathing behind a door, the constant hum of electricity threading through the city like a pulse I had never noticed before.
Scents hung in the air—rain on concrete, stale beer, perfume long faded but somehow still clinging stubbornly to passing strangers. It was overwhelming, disorientating.
It was like the world had been in greyscale and was now in full colour for the first time.
My skin prickled, hypersensitive, as if every inch of it had been turned inside out.
The brush of fabric against my arm felt wrong—too rough, too noticeable—while the cool night air slid over me.
Yet, I couldn’t feel its chill. I absently dragged my fingers along my skin, trying to soothe the crawling sensation beneath it, but it didn’t help, nothing settled it.
Everything was just wrong.
But, beneath it all, something else lingered.
My thoughts were still my own, I was fairly certain of that. I was still me. Though distantly I knew I wasn’t.
Every step was engulfed by shadows that had come to swallow me whole for what I’d become.
For what I’d done. Even the wind whispered, mocking me, laughing at me.
My thoughts were like inky pools soaking into paper—slowly spreading but impossible to control.
My skin felt different, like it wasn’t mine anymore—it was that of a monster.
My fingers dug into the pockets of my jogging bottoms, searching for the familiar weight of my lighter and cigarettes. I really needed a smoke.
Maybe that would help.
I pulled the pack out, having finally found it, tapping one loose with more urgency than usual, then fumbled for the lighter.
My hands weren’t steady.
That hadn’t escaped me.
I cupped the flame against the lingering drizzle, thumb striking twice before it caught properly. The small flare of heat felt oddly hot. I brought the cigarette to my lips and inhaled, the tip glowing bright for a brief second before settling into a steady burn.
The first drag hit hard, sharp at the back of my throat, familiar in a way that bordered on comforting. I held it there for a moment before exhaling slowly.
Smoke curled into the air in thin, wavering streams, twisting and dissolving as the night sky swallowed it. I watched it as though if I really paid attention to it, I might forget about everything that had happened tonight, as if maybe I could drift upward and disappear too.
I took another drag, slower this time, letting the order of it settle me—inhale, hold, exhale, watch—eyes tracking the soft grey spirals as they vanished into nothing.
For a few seconds, it worked.
The tightness in my chest eased, just slightly. My shoulders dropped a fraction, the noise in my head dimming to something more manageable.
But it was short-lived.
I winced at the sound of an ear-piercing scream, pausing on bated breath. My head spun to inspect my surroundings.
There.
I saw them then, two people at the far end of an alley. A larger man, hunched over a woman who looked… terrified.
I didn’t think.
In the next moment I had pushed him away from the woman and she gathered her scattered belongings and ran.
He made a disgusting gurgling sound then spat at me, cursing me. Then he was on me. Pushing me against the cold wall with his weight. “I paid for that whore,” he snarled, looking me up and down. “You’ll have to take her place.”
Like hell I will.
Using my new found strength, I positioned us so the roles were reversed and he was the one now pushed against the wall, confusion etched on his face that quickly turned into the purest form of fear when I smiled and let my fangs descend as I licked my lips.
I hadn’t even thought about doing it—it just happened.
“What the fuck?” he trembled, his voice now much higher as he tried to get out from under my hold, but I had my hand wrapped tightly around his neck. I tightened it further still, lifting him off the ground ever so slightly. I’d be lying if I pretended not to enjoy his helplessness.
He protested, and that only made my heart smile more.
He was panicking now.
I lowered him and sank my teeth into the flesh of his neck, my supernatural strength still holding him in place despite his size.
Why the fuck don’t I feel bad?
I was a monster, that’s why.
The scent of piss filled my nostrils and I should have been repulsed. Would have been, under any other circumstance. But I was a creature of the night now with only one thing on my mind.
Blood.
Time slowed as I drowned in his blood and the world around me twisted once more, coming alive in a way I’d never noticed before, like I’d been asleep all my life and was now finally awake.
Every nerve in my body responded to it. I’d tried most drugs, and somehow this experience was wholly new. Unlike anything. Every feeling of inadequacy I’d ever had about myself, every last bit of insecurity, weakness, the self-loathing… all gone.
A surge of dopamine flooded my system.
Power coursed through my veins.
Undiluted.
Untethered.
I felt like a God.
There was a tingle beneath my skin, itching to be released, and his blood whispered to me, begging me to take it all.
But I pulled back, my breaths almost rabid as I fought the urge to take it all. I needed to control this. I was too stubborn to let go of that control. Only I got to control me. Not blood. Not fate. Only me.
The urge subsided and my fangs retreated, my breathing slowing.
I was in control.
He was still alive, I hadn’t taken too much.
A slow smile spread across my face as I wiped away the solemn droplet of blood that had escaped my mouth. I licked it clean, savouring the taste, then for a moment I pictured my sharpened nails as they tore through his chest cavity, taking his heart into their grip and ripping it free of his body.
Just because I’d controlled my bloodlust didn’t mean he got to live.
I could see it. Taking his life and I knew I wouldn’t regret it. Part of me longed to take a bite from his warm heart, satiating my own morbid curiosity.
But I didn't want to leave behind another body.
That could cause me more trouble than he’d be worth.
I still didn’t know anything about the world I’d been catapulted into.
Surely there were others.
Others I had no desire to meet.
Self-preservation took priority, so I let my teeth meet his neck once more, messing up my bite marks, leaving his skin torn and my original puncture marks unidentifiable.
Maybe I should have been worried about him having seen my face.
But, I decided it didn’t matter.
Who would believe him?
Believe that a vampire attacked him.
They’d laugh at him, call him a drunk.
Say he must have been mauled by a dog.
Part of me enjoyed the thought of him looking over his shoulder for the rest of his miserable life. Forever wondering if he had imagined me or if he’d gone insane.
I didn’t know how I came to be this way, but in this moment, I fucking loved it.
A sad laugh slipped between my lips and for the first time hope swirled in my chest. Maybe I’d be okay.