Harvey Wiseman
Sunlight warms my skin and I get a little kick out of it. The streets are pretty much empty this time of day. It’s crazy how things have changed in the last ten years. You don’t notice it; it all happens bit by bit. Even in a sprawling city, it’s a sunny midday and the streets are almost dead.
Most of the people still spending their time in the daylight are older. It makes sense. The above generations are always the most resistant to change. And then people like me, still stuck working dead-end day shifts, so that a day off like this means walking the city alone or fucking up my sleep schedule just to socialise. Even most of my human friends have made the switch to living at night now, it’s bullshit.
I’d enjoyed the quiet days at first, honestly. Barely any rush hour traffic, the lack of hustle-bustle and elbow-nudges, that delicious sun on your skin. But as time went on and the world started to cater more and more to nightlifers, things just became frustrating. Most places are only open now from 9pm-5am, so you have to brave those first few hours of rush as the neon signs burst to life. It makes sense, I guess. Why only cater to half the population in the day when you can cater to everyone at night? It’s still fucking annoying though, for people like me.
I meet up with Rich at a farmer’s market, one of the only daytime ones left in the city. He prattles on about his new bartending job, how crazy the nights get, how good the vibe is. He’s been begging me to make the switch—black rings around his bloodshot eyes. At least he makes the effort to come see me. I make the effort too, though it kills me.
He invites me out tomorrow, but I make faces.
‘Come on, bro, it’s the weekend!’
‘I know, but if I’m out all night, I’m gonna be up all night Saturday, and then by Monday I’ll be fucked.’
He shakes his head, but his constant smirk remains. ‘Alright, pussy. But I got something that might change your mind.’
His eyes dart around, then he flashes two ID cards with fakes names and our faces above two punch-holes. Printed at the top—Vampiric Identity Certification.
‘What do you say to two steaks tomorrow night at Old Blood?’
A cloud passes over and the sun disappears. The hairs on my arms stand up and at the same time, my mouth waters. Meat. It’s been years. I snatch my card and Rich laughs.
***
Looking around at the other patrons, I feel out of place. And not just because I’m human—they’re dressed as dazzlingly as their surroundings. Lace tablecloths, ornamented cutlery. Massive renaissance frescos on the walls. Classical ambience disguises the buzzing of about thirty chandeliers, each working overtime to pour out such light that it genuinely feels like the middle of the day in here despite it being 2 a.m.
‘Novelty’ restaurants like this had started popping up in recent years, giving vampires a chance to dine on the food they used to enjoy, even though meat provides them no sustenance. Dining had had the biggest shakeup since vampires decided to reveal themselves. Restaurants now had separate menus for humans and vampires—vegetarian and live prey. Factory farming in the area had been dismantled practically overnight to cater to the new normal. Anything to keep humans off the menu, I guess.
It’s weird that meat is still off-limits to humans even in restaurants like this. But I don’t care enough to attend any rallies. Don’t these human rights advocates realise that vamps make up most of city council, and have since well before they “came out”?
The waiter comes over and we flash our IDs. Rich orders a rib eye, medium, and the waiter cocks her head.
‘No blood?’
‘No, no,’ Rich shakes his head, barely keeping it together behind his stupid smirk. ‘Pure indulgence tonight. Going down memory lane.’
After cringing at his defence, I order extra rare. The waiter makes no comment, but Rich makes eyes at me once she’s left.
‘When in Rome,’ I say, shooting another nervous look around. We both giggle, surely drawing attention, but we had a bit to drink on the way over.
The steaks come and mine sure is bloody. There’s something to it though—it’s like one of those places you read about where they eat duck embryos or sea urchins. It’s about the experience, not the taste. I fasted all day, partly to save for the expensive meal, partly to make it worth the wait. The last time I’d had meat was on holiday a couple years back. I wonder how long until the rest of the world changes.
‘You know what this needs,’ Rich moans. ‘Some garlic butter.’ We both burst into laughter, ignoring the stares.
‘So, we going out tonight?’ I ask. Despite my earlier hesitance, once I get in the mindset, I start to fiend for the nightlife. Rich knows it well, that’s why he always pesters me.
He looks impressed at my eagerness, then buries his face in his hands. ‘Sorry, man, I totally forgot. I gotta hit the gym. It’s like the only time I can go. You can get an early night, at least.’
‘Seriously? What the fuck man, why didn’t you go today?’
‘Dude, I finally got a weekly with this new trainer. She’s like always booked out. And she only does nights.’
‘What is she, a vampire?’ I laugh.
He grits his teeth.
My jaw drops. ‘No way. Actually?’
A shrug.
‘Is she hot?’
He shakes his head at me. ‘Oh, whatever, man.’
‘I’m serious! Show me a pic.’
I try to push Rich’s hairy body from my mind as I imagine a pale trainer in tight shorts, tank top, sweat dripping… fangs bared…
I must admit, horniness was one of the main reasons I came out tonight. Dating, hence sex, has been dire for me lately. The complete lack of a social scene in the daytime doesn’t help. But cruising and bar-hopping after work is just as unsuccessful—it’s impossible to pick up when everyone else’s nights are just starting.
Rich turns his phone to show me an empty bathroom. It takes me a second to spot the phone floating at head height. ‘There you go. Mirror selfie from her Instagram.’
‘Fuck off,’ I roll my eyes as he laughs, pleased with himself. ‘Hey, I’ll join you at the gym. We can all go out after. Is she single?’
His laughs fade into a look of amused disappointment. ‘Be for real, man. You seriously want to date a vampire?’
‘Obviously not, dude.’ He waits with open arms for the penny to drop. ‘I just wanna fuck one.’
He feigns disgust, but his laugh belies some recognition. I already know she’s hot. I cast my eyes around to drink in some of the women our age. One sips a wine glass, spilling a drop of blood on her collar. Another throws her head back to laugh, the artificial sunlight gleaming off her sharp canines. My stomach groans and I tuck back into my steak.
***
I watch her as she rests against the bar, looking around with those dazzling eyes. At first glance they look like any other eyes, but if you look closely, and watch how she watches others, you can see her hunting. Inspecting her prey.
A shiver runs down my spine. It’s stupid, but something about the danger is intoxicating. In the blink of an eye she could be on top of me, sinking her teeth into my neck, and I could do nothing to stop her. It was illegal to turn humans—and, obviously, to murder—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable. I’ve heard it’s like an addiction for them. If they go without warm blood, they can’t control themselves. Knowing those urges are somewhere inside her—there’s something animalistically hot about it.
She meets my eyes and smiles. Her hair is still up in a ponytail, a few loose strands sticking to the sweat on her temples. She looks amazing, but her workout fit is still fresh in my mind. ‘What?’ she asks.
I shake my head and it makes me realise just how smashed I am already. Rich had left maybe half an hour ago after pulling something during his workout. We hadn’t talked much at the gym, but she must have felt the energy buzzing off me. Felt my gaze on her. She was more than happy to come out.
‘You sure you don’t want a drink?’
She shakes her head. ‘Maybe at the next place.’
‘Not even some of the red stuff?’
If she’d rolled her eyes, I didn’t see it in the dim light. ‘No thanks. I’m fasting.’
I tilt my head towards her, setting my rocks glass down on the bar. ‘Fasting? For what?’
‘It’s just something I do on nights out. Being around everyone, you get like… a contact buzz. All those pumping hearts on the dancefloor.’
I feel my back tense up. Her eyes feel like they’re tearing into me, like headlights on the highway. I sit happily frozen. ‘Is it true you can hear heartbeats?’
She narrows her eyes and looks past me, like she’s searching for something. Then she starts tapping her fist on the bar. ‘Bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum. Am I close?’
I have to laugh. She laughs as well. I can’t tell if it’s with me or at me, and usually that would make me annoyed. Maybe it’s a sign of my current desperation that I’m getting into it. Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s the first vampire I’ve ever chatted up. I scull the rest of my g&t and throw out the rulebook.
She eyes my empty glass and calls for the bartender, then orders two shots of vodka.
‘I thought you weren’t drinking?’
‘They’re both for you,’ she says with a straight face. ‘I get drunk pretty quick. So you can load up before me.’ The shots come and she slides them both in front of me.
‘I’ve never done this before,’ I blurt out. If the lights were up she would’ve seen my cheeks flush. ‘Not shots, I mean—’
‘Every guy says that.’ She looks at me from across the divide with a half-open smile.
I swallow the air caught in my throat and throw back both shots, wincing at the burn that follows. A cough comes out, then another, and I slam my fist against my chest.
‘Chaser,’ she says.
I flick my eyes up. ‘What?’
Her face hasn’t changed. ‘Chaser?’ she now asks. ‘I’ll get you a shot of blood.’
‘Oh, no, I’m okay,’ I laugh through another cough. ‘I’ve—I’ve never tried it straight before. Maybe at the next place, right?’
Her smile widens, ear to ear. I fill with warmth as she seems to enjoy my suggestion. Or maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through my veins, warming me from the inside out. She grabs me by the wrist and before I know it, I’m throwing cash down on the bar and we’re out the door.
***
I feel a prick on my tongue as it’s lodged down her throat. I pull back and she laughs out an apology, before my tongue cuts it short and I keep pressing her against the door. She puts her hands on my arms, pushing me back with ease, then waltzes across the apartment. She sheds her top, then reaches for the hem of her sports bra as she disappears into the bedroom.
My clothes hit the floor and I follow, trying to keep upright. I have no idea how many bars we hit, or what time it is, but the cool air of her apartment is starting to wake me up.
I bump into her in the doorway and hug her from behind, my hands roaming her body.
‘You’re eager,’ she laughs.
‘You’re fucking hot.’
She pulls me onto the bed and I’m surprised she keeps me on top, bearing down on her, my fingers in her hair.
She laughs and shakes her head, looking up at me. ‘You humans are so easy.’
So easy, huh? I can be more than just a human. My lips stray from hers to her cheek, then down to her neck. Her nails dig into my back as she moans into my ear, deep and breathy. She must feel my smile against her neck.
‘I’ve heard that…’ I swallow, talking into her throat. ‘For a vampire, biting someone is like, as intimate as it gets. It’s even pleasurable, almost like fucking. Or cumming.’
She says nothing as I reach a hand down between her legs.
‘I guess I’m a little scared, you know. You might bite me in the throes of passion.’
She laughs again, throwing her head back into the pillow. A real laugh, not a sexy little giggle, and I feel a little embarrassed. She calms and leans close, our cheeks touching. Her mouth brushing my ear, she whispers shivers down my spine.
‘It’s not like cumming,’ she says. ‘It’s a hundred times better.’
I let out a moan into her ear, grinding against her. My pulse thrums through my entire body, frantic eyes catching shapes in the dark as I try to picture her smile. ‘Fuck,’ I breathe, uncontrollable. ‘I’ve always wanted to fuck a vampire.’
She wraps her hands around my head, fingers catching in my hair. I feel her pull my head to the side, her lips on my neck, then two sharp points drawing across it.
I try to recoil, but her hands keep me. I let out a laugh. ‘Hey, I—Be careful, yeah?’
Her teeth stop, finding a spot they like. They hover there, threatening, but applying no pressure. She giggles. Open-mouthed. Husky.
‘I don’t want to be a vampire,’ I laugh. Trying to keep her teeth out of my throat, but not wanting to kill the mood.
‘It’s okay. I’ll be gentle…’ One hand searches down my chest, my stomach, and slips into my underwear. There’s a palpable desperation in her voice. She’s thirsty, but she’s not frantic. The mere thought of the blood under my skin is getting her off. ‘Just a love bite.’
I chuckle, all thoughts following the blood down to my crotch. ‘Okay…’
Her fingers pull my hair as her teeth puncture deep. I tighten my grip, one hand on her arm, one on her neck. There’s no way that she—they sunk way too deep.
‘Molly,’ I rasp.
I feel a searing burn, unlike anything I’ve ever felt. A burn across my whole body, stemming from and rushing to two impossibly small points in my neck.
‘Molly.’ My hand taps against her cold skin. ‘I don’t… I don’t want to… to….’
Her hands hold me still as I empty into her mouth. The dark of her room fades into dancing white and red. My hands fall limp as she drains me dry. I forget to savour my last breath.
Harvey Wiseman is a writer from Melbourne and co-editor of Claws Out Literary! When not editing and sending emails, his life is consumed with work on his first novel and parenting two devilish cats.
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