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The mutilated body of Tommy Hill wasn't discovered until three
days had passed. Stuffed in the trunk of the car, it wasn't noticed until a few
warmer than average January days turned the once popular college senior into a
putrid stench machine. Police investigating the murder found no clues in the
car, so a canvas of the surrounding neighbors began.
The house most immediate to the car didn't answer the doorbell, or
repeated knocking for two days in a row, prompting more than a little suspicion
for the police. But, a "foul" odor from the house once again brought
probable cause into the picture, and the door was booted open by SWAT and the
mayhem discovered five days after it had occurred.
The bodies of what was believed to be three or four people were
found in pieces around the house. "Believed to be" was written in the
report after the investigating officers were unable to ascertain with any great
certainty which parts belonged where. All they knew for sure was that among all
the blood, flesh and carnage, the vomit stains were from them.
After a week long investigation, leading to the discovery of a
history of drug dealing and trafficking, and other incriminating evidence, it was
assumed that this was, in some form or another, a drug deal gone bad. Detectives
involved in the investigation were relieved to close the case unsolved, and do
their best to forget about the entire scene. Some of the officers wouldn't
remember the look of horror on the deceased faces, or the piles and pools of
blood scattered throughout the house and on the walls. No, what they would
remember, at night when it was dark and eerie, was the bite marks that covered
the bodies of the murdered. They seemed animal in appearance, but what animal
would bite their prey, and not eat them?
The investigation into Tommy's death was lumped together with the
house massacre, but Police didn't have any luck gathering evidence that would
connect Tommy to the scene, aside from college police stating that Tommy was
"believed to be" a drug dealer on campus. Because his list of friends
was so extensive, police never even made it to interviewing Pierre. Instead,
after speaking with five uncooperative "friends" they closed the case
on Tommy as well.
Like the students at Bridgewater State College that stopped by
Pierre's room to pay their condolences to him in regards to Tommy, the Police
would have found no answer at the dorm room. Pierre hadn't been seen in days
after the events, and most believed he was either taking some time by himself,
or that he had gone home to be with family. But, neither was the case. In fact,
if they had met Pierre at all in those days following Tommy's death, they
wouldn't have recognized him at all.
Pierre sat in the dark room, wearing on his boxer shorts. The
television was on, but the volume was so faint it was as good as muted. The
window shades were drawn, with the corners taped to allow no light to enter the
room. The bed was made, the room clean, save for scores of books strung about
the floor. A book sat in Pierre's lap, his eyes scanning quickly. It seemed that
television could not hold his attention any longer, but a book sparked his
imagination and allowed him to concentrate. This was one of the several
immediate changes he had noticed since.. since he had changed.
Pierre had gained a physical intimidation about him in the last
few days that was remarkable. He was always imposing, being a tall and fit young
man, but the change had made him stronger, leaner, and given his eyes a look of ferociousness
that could challenge anyone without a word. His hair had grown
almost to his shoulders, and had gotten curly at the ends. But, it had also
darkened, seeming to turn black. His green eyes, once considered his best
feature, were now a darker green, more like blue, and they shone yellow in the
moonlight he noticed. But, that was another startling thing he had never read
about in any vampire books, or seen in any vampire movies. He cast no reflection
in a mirror, but he could see his reflection in water by moonlight. He had seen
it once, and that had been enough to realize that not being able to see your
reflection was a blessing, not a curse.
His eyes were tinted red, fully red when he was aroused in any
way, sexually or physically. His teeth were sharper on the ends, especially the
ones next to his incisors which were normally flat. He had felt his incisors
grow when he was in the house with the drug dealers and knew that his incisors
grew to almost an inch in length when he needed to feed, but for now they hung
just slightly past his other teeth.
His hunger was constant. Even after he had fed on the four in
Brockton, he had been unable to stop himself from feeding on Tommy. He could
hear his warm, delicious blood coursing through his veins. He could hear his
heart beating, inviting him to feast. He had tried to stop his hunger, to allow
himself to be human, but had failed. He had fed on Tommy, killing him instantly,
and then throwing him in the trunk to be found days later. He couldn't describe
his feelings when it finally sank home that his friend had died, and he had
killed him, and fed on him! That night, when he returned home, he could taste
Tommy's blood in his mouth, and while regret tainted the taste, he still enjoyed
it. The regret was the final human emotion he felt, now it was gone. Guilt,
remorse, regret, shame, these were things of the past. Life had simplified
itself in the immediate past. Goals were simple and life was relatively easy.
Feed when he thirsted, avoid the sun, and try to not be notices as different.
He had fed three times in the five days since the night of Tommy's
death, the last being two days ago. He could feel himself growing weaker by the
hour, as he waited for the sun to go down fully, and his time to come. He would
travel away from the campus, and find his food. He needed to feed. He needed to
live. After all, he had changed.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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