Vampirism | ✓

14 | Filthy Monster

"Wern?"

Haruto looked horrified, and at first, I wanted to crawl into my own skin so I couldn't look him in the eyes, but when I noticed that he was trying to approach me my head shot up, and I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Stay away," I said, feeling my stomach turn as my nose sensed the smell of child abuse bumbling on his skin. "Stay away from me," I repeated, choking up before I reached to cover my mouth to hide my fangs. I knew that my eyes were red and that the veins on my face and hands were showing through my skin that had gone thin and a little white in half transformation.

I looked like a monster, fangs or not.

It stung.

Haruto was still standing by the door. He seemed confused about what to do.

Just run away. I said in my head. Why isn't he running away?

He took a step forward again, and I cringed, hissing at him. Haruto took a step back again and stared at me.

"Wern..." he said, gripping the edge of the door that was hollow from termites. "I have to do something. I can't just stand here."

"Haruto, leave," I said out loud, letting my hand drop to expose my teeth. "Aren't you afraid?"

It was taking a lot of energy on my part to remain still. I was hungry, and every couple of seconds my vision would turn white as my daze for food overtook my senses for a while.

I gulped. "Haruto, leave, or I'm going to eat you..." I said in a jaded voice. I could smell his paralyzing fear. It roiled in the amidst memories that crept around Haruto's limbs and oozed moans and cries.

"You're going to eat me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Yes," I said letting my hands that had grown claws grip the mattress. "I'm going to kill you. What don't you understand? Do you want to die?"

Haruto didn't say anything for a while. His eyes fell to the empty containers that I had taken out from under my bed to sort through.

"Is food supposed to be in there?" he asked, looking up at me before blinking like he had cracked a code. "You're trying to eat, aren't you?"

I started saying something, but a pang in my stomach made me let out a low cry instead. I ran my fingers over my stomach, feeling my ribs shake as I clenched my jaw and felt my teeth pierce into the skin of my inner cheeks.

"Do you need blood?" Haruto asked in a low tone, stepping into the room again. My eyes widened, watching him wander close to me before lingering about an arm's length away. "You can have my blood." He was a bit hesitant, but he showed me his arm.

The arm wrapped with strings of memories in a web-like fashion.

I frowned at him at first, but then I let out a sad chuckle, feeling my eyes heat up with tears when my stomach responded positively to his offer. "Do you even know what I am?" I asked, wondering why the dark-haired man in front of me was so stubborn and was refusing to leave.

He gulped. "I have my guesses." His eyes drifted to the floor and then back at me. "Come on, have some of my blood."

"I don't drink blood, Haruto."

"Then, what do you eat?" He asked, looking about the room. "You said you were going to kill me. I don't see any place you could hide dead bodies around here..."

"Trauma," I said, licking my now blood-stained lips. "I eat trauma."

A groan left my lips as I winced. The feeling of my body trying to mend the wounds I had in my mouth as I continued to hurt myself at the same time, was energy-draining, and it made me drowsy.

Haruto furrowed his brows at me before his eyes went wide. "Trauma?"

I nodded my head. "I'm a demon, Haruto. A vampire, yeah. We eat sins and misery. I specifically eat trauma," I explained through trembling lips. "I know it's fucked up."

"Is that why—" Haruto paused, taking a deep breath. "Is that why you chased me? Do you want to eat me? Do you want to eat my trauma?" Haruto's voice was trembling. He seemed more upset at the prospect that I didn't really like him more than anything else.

"No," I said. "That's part of it in a way, but no... I would never try to eat you. I love you," I said, feeling my chest squeeze up. "I love you, and that's why I want you to leave—it's for your own safety," I said, feeling my heart shatter from what I knew was inevitable. Haruto and I would have to break up, and he wouldn't want to see me anymore, and I might have to leave New York just in case he planned to tell anyone about me or tried to kill me himself.

"I don't think that whatever happened to you in your past is a good thing," I said, hoping that Haruto understood that. "But I can't help that it makes me hungry." My eyes teared up as I looked at the memories in the jars on the floor. The black blurbs that Haruto couldn't see that danced in their glass enclosures.

"I have food here—in the containers. You can't just see them. I just need you to leave because you're a walking fridge of fresh food and I can't control myself if I'm hungry," I explained, feeling my stomach squeeze up with disgust when I compared him to food.

"Okay," he said, looking down at the floor. I could tell that he was having a hard time looking at me. "That makes sense, but I'll wait in the living room. You have to explain all this to me."

My throat clogged up. "You want an explanation?" I asked, stretching out my hands that were white as the sheets that dressed the beds. My nails were black, and my veins were pulsing and visibly green under my skin. "What else is there to explain? I'm a filthy monster."

"Well, beyond that," Haruto said, taking steps back until he was back at the bedroom door. "I want us to talk about other things." His voice was more leveled now. He must have gotten over a huge chunk of his initial shock.

"I'm a demon. I'm destined to hell, aren't you a Christian?" I don't know why I was desperate for Haruto to yell at me. Curse at me. Try to kill me, even. I was telling him anything I could to get him to abandon me.

"Yes," Haruto said. "But I'm not sure how that has to do with anything."

"I'll be in the living room, so I'll wait for you," Haruto mumbled when I didn't say anything in reply to his words. "I'll be waiting." He stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. I listened for his footsteps, and when I heard the familiar sound of the old sofa creaking, I knew he was in the living room, waiting for me as he had promised.

I licked my lips, looking down at the jars in front of me before swallowing down the bile in my mouth. I reached down for the jar that I had dropped when Haruto walked in on me. Some of the memories had slipped out and they were now sitting on the carpet like pieces of art-clay. I picked them up, forcing them through my mouth one by one.

Haruto was expecting me to meet him soon, so I guessed that I would just do as I was told.