Part Two
 
It was dark when I awoke, very dark.
 
No, that doesn’t describe it properly.
 
There was no light at all, not a glint. I’ve been awake in the middle of the night when the only light came from the heavens, but this was not like that. Even when the clouds covered the moon and stars some light filtered through, but not here. In this place, there was no light.
 
I sat up, or at least I tried, but before I’d moved more than a few inches I bumped my head. I got scared, I’ll admit it. I began to kick and hit out at whatever enclosed me but whatever it was I couldn’t break through and my fear levels rose.
 
“Chris.” A voice tried to break through my panic. “Chris Keeling listen to me.”
 
I knew that voice, how did I know that voice. The man…the weird old man in the forest. Oh my God, it wasn’t a dream. But if it wasn’t a dream then I must be dead, I must be a vampire.
 
“Can you hear me, Chris?” The voice spoke again.
 
“I can hear you?” I shouted and was pleased when my voice sounded normal.
 
“There’s no need to shout, Chris, said the man, “it won’t carry through the ground and I’m not actually near you anyway. Do you remember when I told you about the mist?”
 
I nodded and then remembered where I was, so I shouted. “Yes”
 
“A nod will suffice. Now, Chris, I want you to remember what you look like. Can you do that? Think of how you look. A picture of yourself perhaps. Think hard Chris. Have you got an image in your mind?” I nodded. “Good. Now, I want you to imagine that you are floating, like mist, just rising up through the ground.”
 
I tried, but nothing happened. It’s all very well telling me to float like mist, but I don’t know what floating like mist feels like. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the sensation of going up in a lift. That little lurch as it begins to move and then a gentle downward pressure as you rise between the floors. I concentrated as hard as I could, but still I didn’t feel anything happen. I was about to give up when I felt water spraying my face.
 
I opened my eyes and then closed them again quickly, it was so bright. I was supposed to wake up at night, but everything was so bright. Slowly I tried again, squinting against the light. I could see stars in the sky above me, more stars than I had ever seen in my life. I could see everything, my vision was so sharp, and I could see so far, even at night. As I adjusted to the light I began to see such detail in my surroundings, the smallest movement of a spider as it waited for its prey, an earwig crawling over the dirt. But I couldn’t just see it I could hear it, every step it took. I moved my head slightly and heard an owl take to flight, a mouse squeaked in fright and I heard it try to run but the owl was to quick. It swooped, the mouse squeaked again, and the smell of fresh blood assailed my nostrils.
 
“It’s a lot to take in at first, isn’t it?”
 
I looked around and the old man was right there, less than a few feet away from me and I never heard his approach. I had heard a mouse die, but I didn’t hear the old man arrive.
 
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “I’m a lot quieter than a mouse. Besides, you were distracted. Interesting clothes.”
 
I looked down and cringed. The photograph I had imagined had been on my mantlepiece ever since my parents died. It had been taken in Biarritz when I was 18, the last time we had been away as a family. My fourteen-year-old sister had been given three months to live, the same sort of tumour that appeared in my own head four years on.
 
Unfortunately for me it had been thirty-two degrees Celsius on the beach that day and I was now standing in a graveyard, at night, wearing nothing but a pair of bright orange surfer shorts.
 
“What the…?” I cursed but the man just laughed.
 
“I suppose we’d better find you something a bit more suitable to wear. Don’t worry, everyone makes mistakes the first few times out. You’ll get the hang of it…in a year or two.”
 
“Can’t I just…like…mist them?”
 
“It isn’t as easy as that. The whole mist thing takes a lot out of us, even if you were at full strength and had just fed you wouldn’t be able to change again for six hours. So, unless you want to start attracting unwanted attention we’d better be going. Come on.”
 
The old man led me through the graveyard to a small gate that led to a track running around the back of the church. The track cut through a small group of houses before reaching the High Street, a High Street that was still busy with shoppers.
 
“You’d better wait here,” said the old man, indicating some large bins at the back of a shop. Then he was gone.
 
He came back less than ten minutes later with a pair of blue jeans, a white tee shirt and a pair of white trainers. When I tried to change I discovered that the shorts wouldn’t come off. Apparently, that was something to do with the whole ‘mist’ thing. The clothes you had on at the start stayed on. You can undo buttons and zips, but the garment remains on. The old man kindly informed me that most male vampires go without underwear, so they just unzip their flies and ‘have their fun’, as he put it.
 
With me dressed he took me for a walk amongst the people of the town, letting me smell their blood and see the strange auras that surround everyone. He instructed me on how to predict the taste of a victim based on the colour of the aura and then he found me a sweet young girl to try. I didn’t kill her, and he assured me that she would remember nothing when she awoke.

To be continued...

If you can't wait for part three, the complete story with illustrations is available right now in the Members Area of my website. Along with the other short stories I have written.