![]() ![]() Even if he did make my heart skip a beat. It became somewhere dark, somewhere filled with murder and blood, where magic was sinister and where even my closest ally seemed more like an enemy. ![]() Because when my fangs came in, my world altered irrevocably. Perhaps he’d been talking to himself, persuading himself that one day I’d know and accept his reasons for what he’d planned for me. ![]() I’ve often wondered since if he was really talking to me. “One day you’ll understand,” he whispered, his tone subdued. I sighed and surrendered myself as he held me against his front in a lover’s embrace, tipping my head and willingly giving him access to my throat. The truth was that the man could’ve asked anything of me and I would’ve complied, but he didn’t need to vocalise his request. Yet my lack of rebellion was far from the most unsettling part of the stranger’s control over me. Struggling had been the last thing on my mind, even when my bus arrived and my assailant waved it on, dismissing my last hope of escape. I should have fought, any person should fight, but my mind had been filled with a hazy calm which forbade any battle. Becoming immortal was to be pulled, to be tugged irrevocably into darkness, and it was silent. Birth implies pushing, tearing forth into the light, screaming. Let me tell you what it was to be made vampire. ![]()
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