(Part One) -- The Vampire Warehouse

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After two years worth of bloodshed in darkness, the feel and acrid taste involved with draining a donor down to their very last drop of their life essence still left me a sickening sense of nausea. I had mentally come to the point where I knew what had to be done. I awaited every new blood cycle with an unimaginable sense of dread. Not because of the act itself. I was long beyond the fantasy that I could exist without ceasing the existence of another human being. One would be surprised how quickly murder becomes more habit than horrifying. It was something that I had to do to survive. But the bitter taste of it...that's what truly bothered me. It never got any better.

The man going limp in my arms was still twitching and spasming in response to my fatal bite, but his pain was gone. It was merely a reflex action at this point. A weak seizure from a dying organism. Nothing more. His warm blood spilled over my lips, my fangs unable to extract and absorb it all as fast as it gushed forth from his open wound. Perhaps my bite pierced him just a little too deeply. That happens sometimes when you wait too long and the thirst begins to take a savage hold on your senses. The gaping holes in his neck were too wide for my fangs to plug them fully, but he was much bigger than I was, so I was sure that I would get enough sustenance from him, even if I wasted some in the process.

I just kept him quiet and waited for the draining process to be over. I was lucky to have come across him in the darkness of that abandoned park. He saved me a lot of trouble. I was always particularly selective when searching for a donor. He was a last minute godsend before the dawn, and I was thankful for that.

Feeling the man's body go cold, his last remaining fluids being pulled into my bloodstream with an adrenaline rush of fear and anguish, I gave him a few final squeezes and shakes...then I dropped him to the ground. I wiped my mouth clean on my sleeve, and walked off just as I saw the lights of the nearest slaghunter patrol, coming to clean up my mess.

It had all become so routine. I had to wonder if my emotions, while still feeling pangs of guilt from time to time, had somehow been dulled by the continued practice. I don't know how some vampires live to be over a century old, and never once think about all of the stolen lives it took to keep them alive. Keep them young. I imagine that the weight of it all would eventually crush me when my death toll reached the numbers that some of them had achieved. But not yet. Not now. For now...there is only the method of the kill...and the rush of life to follow my evil deeds.

I do have one salvation. And it was the beauty of his smiling face that greeted me as I returned to the old library. A place that we had to call our own. Well, the dark basement beneath it, anyway. But it was a small public library that often closed just as we were waking up anyway. There were isolated compartments in the basement that only the older caretakers knew about, and they almost never went down there anymore. It made for an excellent resting spot. And with no windows or doors for the daylight to creep in. Our private paradise below ground.

And then...there was Noble. My love. My light. The one that I had chosen to join me as we reached towards eternity together. We were both fifteen when we crossed over, but I had been in darkness for almost a year longer than he has. It wasn't long ago that he had finally lost the last traces of his human blood supply. I almost missed it. Noble had such a sugary sweet taste to him when he was still a newblood. Not that I had any complaints about what he was now.

A bit on the slender side, Noble's bright hazel eyes never failed to create a weakness in me. Especially when combined with the brilliance of his smile. A well tended mop of dark blond curls topped his head, shaved close at the sides. And full lips that became more exciting to me with every sensual contact I made with my own. He wanted to leave home. Wanted to join me in darkness. But made me wait until he got his braces off first. Professionally, that is. There was no way that he was going to spend the next century with a mouth full of metal. Wouldn't bother me. He was gorgeous either way.

"Jason? Geez, you certainly made a right mess of yourself tonight." Noble said to me, his posh English accent still strong, even with practice.

"You've got blood all over the back of your shirt. I'm surprised that you even made it back here without an officer stopping you to ask what happened?" He said. Noble turned me towards one of the mirrors we kept in the dimly lit basement and he showed me a rather gratuitous 'murder stain' on the back of my left shoulder.

I think you were the messy one. I told you to find a donor last week. You always wait too long, and then you come home looking like a full blown horror movie."

"I know, I know...the taste. The taste, the taste, you and your tastes. If you're not careful you're going to get your self nabbed one of these days." He liked to make a fuss every now and then, but it was more playful than anything else. I knew that he loved me, heart and soul. And as he lifted my shirt over my head...I quickly lurched forward to steal a sweet kiss from my boyfriend's lips. Noble was quick to blush from the intimate contact. "Hehehe! Don't think you're going to con me out of laughing at you for being such a sloppy eater." He said.

"I love you too..." He whimpered. no matter how many times I said it...the words never lost their luster. He melted each and every time.

My hands on his dainty hips, I pulled him closer. He was beautiful, almost to the point of androgyny...but not quite. A boyishness in his demeanor always gave him away. I brushed my hand against his cheek, and our lips connected with a tender pressure that brought us both to levels of excitement that was unmatched by any other part of our day. Or our existence for that matter. We were made for each other. Him for me, me for him. Bound together forever.

"Ugh! Not again! Can't you two do anything other than smooch all the time?" Our friends...perhaps we should call them 'roommates' here beneath the library. Gina could be one tough lady when she wanted to be. Or at least that was the front she put on in front of company. With a shock of red hair and a minimal applying of dark make-up, she had definitely seen her fair share of Noble and I still acting as though we were newlyweds. Even after all this time.

Newton, on the other hand, while taller than the rest of us, was only 14 when he crossed over. An honor student with a love for knowledge that surpassed even the most concentrated bookworm, his lanky arms and legs entered the basement holding a collection of books that he had swiped from upstairs. He reads so much, I doubt that he would be able to sleep without some sort of new material to feed his brain.

Gina and Newton were both 'free born' vampires. Meaning that they had no real sire to speak of. They crossed over into darkness and were basically left to find for themselves. No mentor. No love interest. No guidance. They seemed to figure it out just fine, and we were happy to accept them into our special little home here. But I know how difficult it is for free borns to make it out here on their own. Because I was one myself.

Some are born into darkness by mistake. Others lose their sires, or are abandoned before their transformation is complete. There are some who crossover because they're sick, and simply found a willing vampire to turn them in order for them to survive. And others....well, I think they do it for kicks. And if they can find a vampire irresponsible enough to change them...good for them, I suppose.