What's It Like?

What's it like? Your eyes are warm with our friendship, yet apprehensive. You sense already that you do not want to know, but you can't help but ask. Was it only days ago that we were such innocents? You were unaware of your heritage, and I of my fate, and we walked together, arm in arm, laughing out of sheer joy... No. I will not think of that. My eyes see everything differently now.

I compose my answer, staring off into the darkness. It isn't true darkness for me anymore. A car drives down the lonely road, out of sight. You hear the engine hum, and you tilt your head slightly -- even in this shape, you already assume the mannerisms of your true form. My hearing is better. I can hear the radio playing, the Sprite commercial -- Obey your Thirst! I chuckle at the irony, but do not explain when you cock your head at me so quizzically. You want to know what it's like, and the joke wouldn't be funny to you...

I can't look at you. The Wolf has invaded your every motion, and I can't look through it to the dear friend of only days ago... I look instead at the not-darkness: the trees, the leaves on the ground, the light playing on the water before us. What's it like? The answer drops from my lips without thought, like the blood...

"It's not so bad. I know, I should be horrified. To live on the life of others... But that leads to madness, or death. I don't want to be mad. I don't want to die. The worst thing is the Thirst. It's always with me, even when I'm so full that more blood would sicken me. Sometimes I think the Thirst is separate from me, a demon continually riding on my shoulder. It's more than physical. It's mental, spiritual... I only know true peace in the Kiss. Even the physical Thirst isn't so much a hunger for nutrition, the way it is for mortals. It's... It can be overwhelming if I'm not careful.

"But I'm learning to control it. I'm learning how to tell when I've had enough -- that's when the Thirst is easiest to control. And if I'm cautious, if I'm responsible, if I drink every night, then the Thirst won't be able to overpower me again. If I'm very careful, if the Thirst is kept weak, then I don't have to kill. Power brings responsibility, and I've gained so much power...

"The balance side of the Thirst is the Kiss. Even when we were... attacked, even in my struggles, through the pain there was an overpowering ecstasy. Despite my fear, despite my horror, I wanted that ecstasy to go on, and I knew that when it stopped, I would never feel anything like it again. I was wrong. From this side, it's even more marvelous. The feeling floods my whole body, and I don't even taste the blood anymore. My soul and theirs float together, and I know things I never knew before. It's more intimate -- and even more pleasurable -- than making love. I... I somehow feel better, knowing that my... victims are feeling the ecstasy. Some minimal exchange for my theft of their blood.

"Yet the Kiss is dangerous, too. Even more dangerous, in its way, than the Thirst. Every time I drink, I must keep iron hold on myself so that I do not take too much. And it took me a long time to learn the limits, to feel the edges of 'too much.' It's so hard, to let my lovers go..."

I stop, the blood of my confessions running dry at last, and I watch the moonlight on the water. You haven't moved, all through my speaking, and I wonder if you have fallen asleep, or if you are so horrified by my words that you can't move. I wonder if I have the courage to turn my head and look. Will the friend-love in your eyes be replaced by hatred, by disgust, by fear? I watch the moonlight on the water, and wait. You cannot understand, even though I've told you. There are no words to make you see, and no visions for you to hear.

A fish jumps on the lake, and without thinking, I focus and follow it back under the water. I feel you start beside me, and realize that my eyes are glowing again -- a naked display of the power that so uneases you. I allow my eyes to unfocus again, and you relax. I turn my head to look at you.

You are looking at the water; avoiding my gaze. I find myself staring at the pulsing vein in your neck... No. The Thirst is as sated as it can be, and I will not, not do that to you, who are my only friend... I clamp my teeth shut, and force myself to look at your face.

You hear my fangs click against each other, and finally meet my gaze. Against all expectation and hope, your eyes are still friendly. Wary, but friendly. I relax my jaw, force a smile. I wonder if you can tell that the smell of your blood, so much more potent than that of mortals, is causing the beast of my Thirst to slam itself against its cage doors, weakening them... No. I will not.

I am glad we were never lovers -- you would be tempted to draw me closer, to hold me in compassion for what has happened, and then the Thirst might well drive me insane, as it did that first night... I am looking at your throat again, and you have noticed -- your pulse is beating quicker, your eyes have dilated even more, although you are outwardly still calm... No. Never again.

I turn away, looking at the water again. I cannot bear to watch your powerful blood coursing through your body any longer. In desperation, trying to distract the Beast within me, I speak: "What's it like?"

What's it like? I look back at the reflection of the moon in the water of the lake dancing on the small ripples of the lake's dark waters. How do I explain everything that's happened? Everything that's changed so fast, like a candle's bursting into flame at the touch of a match. How many days ago was it we walked around, singing silly little songs, laughing at all the follies the world had to offer, and now.... I take a deep breath, trying to gather together my thoughts. The action spurs a thought of its own. I watch you out of the corner of my eye as you wait for my response, and confirm what I already knew -- you don't breathe. How do I start to explain things when something so basic, so common as drawing breath is a stranger to you?

I look down at my hands. One of my fingernails is crowned with dried blood. I drop my hands back to my side and fidget with the finger. How do I explain the anger that I feel so constantly now? Is it like your Thirst? Does your fury suddenly rise up at small things, things you wouldn't have noticed before? Some guy bumped into me while I was looking through the city for you, and I had to stop myself from breaking his arms. The idea of control has become a quiet mantra I whisper to myself whenever I feel the rage rising up again. Control...control...control. I already know what happens when I slip up. While I might've died if I hadn't... changed, I wonder if I'll ever step over that line with someone who doesn't deserve it. I can only hope not.

You're staring at me again. Your eyes are normal again, not that harsh reddish cast that they were when the fish leapt out of the water. But you need an answer. Answers. I can't repay your openness about your fate with silence.

"It's frightening. Frightening, but there's a counter to the fear. The other forms give... viewpoints that I've never had before. The half-shape, everything is clearer, but hazy at the same time. I could smell a deer in the forest a half mile away, but to try to think rationally, it's as if my head is wrapped in cotton. The power inherent in the form is immense. But it's something I've never had to think about before.

"But there is immense pain, too." I reach into the pocket of the jacket I'm wearing and gingerly bring out the bent remains of the silver puzzle ring I used to wear. Realizing you don't yet understand, I bring the ring next to the finger I used to wear it on. The vivid scar encircling the finger is only dimly visible in the colorless moonlight, but I doubt that you are having trouble seeing it. I toss the ring into the lake, not regretting for an instant the action.

"It burned me... a pain I've never felt before in my life. At the time, it was inconsequential, but now..." I trail off, trying to think how to explain why the bullet wounds I got from the vampire healed within minutes, but now, days later, I still have this burn mark.

"The sky has changed, too, in a way." I look up at the serene moon, glowing in the night sky. "The first time I saw it, after the change, I was in another form, and I felt the urge to sing to her, I felt such joy at seeing the moon that I stood and howled at her until the police started searching the park for wild animals."

I stop and take another deep breath. There are things that I have no idea now to express. The other world, for one. The first time I slipped through to the other side, I thought I was going mad. Again. A mirror of this world and not. Power lines teeming with small spiders, running along them, into and out of buildings. Deserted streets. Huge calcified strands wrapped around impossibly huge buildings, constructs worthy of the term skyscraper. Which world is the more real? The one that I was born in, raised in, or that world of foreign symbols and structures that confuse me, but tempt me to come back for a second visit.

And the most frustrating questions of them all are the ones I dare not voice to you at all. How far can I trust you? You spoke of the Thirst, and the Kiss, and how you're learning to control it, but how strong is that control? Strong enough to resist when I lie helpless and asleep? How much can you afford to trust me? I don't have full control over my desires, either. The bridge of friendship between us hasn't been burnt yet, but the boards are dry, and there are flames crackling on either side. We've both become predators, and how can two predators of variant species risk to trust each other?

I look back at you. You're still waiting for me to finish my answer, but I don't know if I have more to say. The sound of your teeth snapping together still echoes in my mind. Who can trust who? Your expression is tense, you're not sure you want to hear what I might say next. I don't know if there's anything I can say. Not sure if I can trust myself stay in control if you so much as make a sudden move towards me, I force myself to take a step out onto the endangered bridge, and slowly reach out an open hand toward you.