Paranormal (Vampires)
Date Published: June 21, 2021
Publisher: ZB Publications
Issaquah, Washington, USA
1951
My name is Norma Mae Rollins. I’m fourteen and an illegal vampire. I miss my mom, but new ghoulish appetites force me to remain with my creator.
Bill didn’t mean to transform me. At least, that’s what he claims. His frightening temper, relentless lies, and morbid scientific experiments makes it hard to know what to believe. However, someone snitched about Bill’s experiments to a nearby coven. Now both of our corpses will burn.
Bill won’t run. He is curious what happens to a vampire after final death. I don’t want to die again. It hurt so much the first time. Bill thinks his vampire boyfriend might shelter me. I must brave an eternal existence with elder vampires and other monsters who don’t think I ought to exist. Oh and figure out who I am allowed to eat.
A vampire’s reality is nothing like the movies.
Diary,
I’m not sure if it’s
possible to describe my transformation well enough to make sense, but I’ll try.
My ears were filled with cracking and snapping as Bill’s arms crushed my bones.
Unable to breathe, I felt a strange autonomy. I didn’t know where I was.
I tasted something
salty on my lips. Wet grass stuck to my legs. My open hands grasped for
something solid but touched slimy, bloody wetness. Beyond, I saw an abyss.
Unlike the pit in the barn, this one held the final soothing ancient Death.
Something encircled me and slithered through my pores into my bloodstream.
Wanting to find my
way home, I edged past. The mist thickened and coated my skin like a sheen of
sweat. Salt turned to blood on my lips. The vapor darkened and grew colder. I
might have felt the others’ pain and fear.
A muscular man with
pale skin, black hair, and green eyes appeared. He wasn’t tall for a man, a
hand or so taller than me, yet he radiated authority. He seemed more real than
the other presences. Closer.
He chuckled and said
in a thick accent, “Americans.” Then something in a foreign language. He
disappeared.
Dragging
my palms through wetness, I felt my way back to my corpse.
Journal
of William T. Caruso continued...
When the vampire, Norma Mae Rollins, opened her eyes, I
almost laughed. Her first emotion was disappointment. His name is Bill? What
kind of name is that for a vampire?
She was also
disheartened that we were in a barn and I didn’t wear a tuxedo. Looking at my
flannel shirt, canvas pants, and mud-stained boots, she thought I could have
been one of her friend’s dads.
I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, licked it, and
wiped the encrusted blood from her face. For the first time since Jason’s only
death, I felt joy. Perhaps a daughter will love me more than two ungrateful
sons.
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