Vampire Bite – Chapter 2

I come to, eyes still closed, but it’s very, very bright, so I squeeze them shut tightly and listen to the sounds around me.  Voices, footsteps against sticky floors, things being pushed on wheels.  I can smell disinfectant.  My neck hurts, as do my lungs and my head. 

An image of a man with fangs exposed pops into my mind, and then what happened rushes back, and my heart starts pounding.  I open my eyes, scared of what I might see.  For a second I squint at the brightness, but then I manage to see, and prop myself up a bit, and look around properly.  I’m on a ward with other patients and there’s an IV in my arm.  My mum is beside me, slouched down in a chair and asleep.  I scan everywhere I can see, everyone, and it all looks fine:  I can’t see that man.   

My heart rate starts to slow and I take a deep breath and relax back onto my pillows, comforted by my mum’s presence.  What happened last night?  And how did I get here?  That man who attacked me … as I think of him I feel cold inside.  It was like a vampire horror movie, and I was so scared.  How could it have happened? 

Then there was the guy who saved me.  What happened to him? 

There’s a movement next to me and I look over at Mum. 

“Ava!” she says, worry lines instantly replaced by a smile. 

She gets up and hugs me.  I give her a one-armed hug back, not wanting to get my IV line tangled. 

“Hi Mum,” I say.  “I’m sorry.”  And then I can’t help it, it’s like flood gates open and I start to cry, shaking as I do. 

“Shh, Ava, shh,” Mum says, as she keeps holding me. 

She carries on holding me, making gentle noises until I calm down, and then she takes my hand, sitting perched on the edge of my bed.  “Tell me what happened.” 

“I don’t know!  Well, I do know, but you won’t believe me.  No-one will believe me…” 

“Tell me,” Mum says, a soft command. 

I describe everything I remember, sobbing again at the end.  I can feel my mum’s hand shaking in mine, even though her look is still gentle and caring. 

“Ava, I’m sorry this happened to you,” she says, hugging me again.  She doesn’t question what I tell her, whether she believes it or not.  “Your injuries are consistent with what you say happened, and the doctor says you lost a lot of blood.  You’ve had a blood transfusion, and the skin at your neck is torn.” 

“Will it heal?  Will I be ok?” 

“Yes, the doctor said you will be, and it will heal, although you may have a scar.” 

I nod, my eyes filling again. 

“The guy you described, the one who saved you; he was here when I arrived.” 

My eyes clear and widen. 

“I agree with you that he’s good-looking!” 

“Mum!” 

“He called an ambulance and rode in with you, staying by your side until I was here.” 

“Really?  For how long?” 

“We got a phone call from the hospital at half past two in the morning.  I was here within two hours.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You shouldn’t walk home alone again,” she says, her eyes watery but her gaze serious. 

“Believe me, I won’t.” 

“Dad is upset he couldn’t come, but we had little Penelope overnight, so he had to stay with her.” 

Penelope is my older sister’s child, she’s only two and a handful. 

I close my eyes for a moment, but then the man’s face, his vampire face, flashes before my eyes again.  I open them right away, not looking forward to trying to sleep tonight. 

Mum gets up and pulls a piece of paper out from the clipboard at the end of my bed.  “The guy who saved you – he left you a note,” she says, giving me an annoying, knowing look.  “I’ll just pop out and call your dad while you have a look.” 

I prop myself up on the pillows, wincing at the pain in my head, and look at the sheet of paper.  There is a brief scrawl in large right-slanting writing. 

‘Ava, 

Saved your ass last night, you better call me. 

Alfie.’ 

Under that is a phone number. 

My heart beat speeds up again, but in a more pleasant way this time, slightly shocked and also intrigued.  And scared of ringing him!  But I will – he did save me.  I owe him a phone call at least. 

I fold the piece of paper up and put it on the table next to my bed, groaning when I see my phone.  It seems pretty unlikely it would have survived last night, even if by some miracle I did.  I try to turn it on and no luck.  Great.  Well, that will slow down my response to Alfie’s message. 

It is the following day before I am allowed out, after being asked lots of questions by doctors and police, and pumped with fluids and medicines.  My sister has her kid now so my dad has joined us and they take me back to my place, which is by the very river I was attacked on, but further along.  It is a flat above a weir, so I am surrounded by other people, even if I can’t see them.   

After lots of hugs, warnings to be careful, and commands to call if anything is wrong, they finally leave me alone.  But it feels weird after being surrounded by people in hospital, and after what has happened, and I feel uneasy.  I open my laptop and send messages to my best friends, Trish and Mark.  They agree to come over after they finish at university, which leaves me with four hours to myself.  I still feel weak after what happened, and can’t face walking into town, or working, so I while away the time searching for a new phone online. 

After what feels like forever Trish and Mark show up with pizza.  We have all been friends since primary school and spend so much time together.  Even though I did not need to move for my job I decided to move to Exeter with Trish and Mark as I did not want to be away from them, and I thought it would be fun to have a change of scene, and live somewhere with a more varied night life.  Although getting bitten in the night was not exactly what I had in mind. 

“What’s happened to your neck?” Trish says.  Trish is gorgeous-looking, with wild dark brown curls.  At the moment her hair is cut down to her chin at the front, but much shorter at the back.  She has brown eyes and the cutest little upturned nose, which is splattered with freckles.  Her personality is as wild as her hair. 

“You are seriously pale,” observes Mark.  Mark looks slightly funny to be honest, with his hair styled so it sticks up all over the place, and it is black with blue streaks, which go with his bright blue eyes.  His clothing isn’t as eccentric as his hair – jeans and a hoody is his standard.  The three of us are all about five foot eight. 

“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes. 

Once they are both in we sit down on my sofa and I tell them everything.  This time I manage it without tears. 

“We saw a poster this morning, warning about attacks,” Trish says. 

“If we’d seen it before we went out last night we would have never let you walk home alone!” says Mark. 

“It’s not your fault!  I chose to walk home alone.  What did the poster say?” 

“It was up in our Hall.  It warned against going anywhere alone – said people had been killed,” says Trish. 

I pale.  “Killed?” 

She nods. 

“How many people?” 

“It didn’t say,” says Mark.   

He picks up my laptop, signs in and gets Google on the screen.  I watch him type in ‘Exeter murders’, feeling queasy. 

There are lots of hits.  Turns out a guy was killed last night in the city centre.  A girl the week before.  Other people are missing. 

“At least I’m alive,” I say, taking in a deep breath to try and feel ok. 

Trish leans towards me, peering at my bandage.  “Have you had a look at it?” 

I shake my head.  “No!  I’m too scared.” 

“I think we should look, see if it really does look like you were bitten by a vampire,” Trish says. 

“Most definitely,” adds Mark, sitting forwards. 

Trish gets to her feet and extends her hand.  “Let’s do it in front of the mirror so we can all see at the same time!” 

“But no!  What if it’s horrible?” I squeal. 

“It will be horrible,” Mark says, “but we need to know.” 

I hold my hand over my neck.  “I’m worried it will look disgusting.” 

“It will,” says Mark, leaning forwards and raising his eyebrows a few times in quick succession. 

“Ignore him,” says Trish.  “How about we stand in front of the mirror, I hold your hand, and Mark gently,” she shoots him a narrow-eyed look, “removes the plaster.” 

I raise my shoulders in defeat and take Trish’s hand.  She hauls me off the sofa and Mark follows us into my little bathroom.  There is a mirror above the sink, which I stand in front of and take a deep breath.  Trish squeezes my hand and Mark stands just behind us.  He pulls back my near-black hair and pushes it over my right shoulder and out of the way.  The plaster is a white two inch square patch, sealed around the edges with a white tape.  Mark starts to pull the tape back while I grip Trish’s hand tighter and squeeze my eyes shut.  Unfortunately it’s as unpleasant as having a normal plaster removed. 

The plaster comes away and I keep my eyes closed.  Trish and Mark are silent. 

“Is it horrible?” I whisper. 

“It’s not as disgusting as you feared,” says Mark. 

“But it is worrying,” adds Trish.  “Open your eyes.” 

Tentatively I do as she says, and lean closer towards the mirror so I can see better; there are two marks, deep red with dried blood, each looks like a small circle with a line just over a centimetre long trailing away from it. 

“It does look like a vampire bite,” Trish says quietly. 

“It does look like you were bitten, but then the teeth ripped your skin above it when he was pulled off you.” 

I look from the bite to my pale face.  My brown eyes stand out against the colour of my skin.  And then I look back to the bite. 

I feel sick. 

“Please can you cover it up again.  A nurse gave me some clean pads,” I say, and gesture to the bag on the floor that contains them. 

Mark nods and gets on with it, while I close my eyes again. 

When he is finished I look at my friends and say, “I know what it looks like, but I can’t process it now.  I need a break from thinking about it, from talking about it…” 

“No problem,” says Mark.  “Pizza and movie coming right up.” 

Trish gives me a hug.  “We won’t talk about it tonight sweetie.  Let’s kick back and relax.” 

After we’ve eaten pizza I pull out the note from Alfie and pass it to Trish.  She reads it, wide-eyed, and then passes it to Mark. 

“Nice,” he says, and passes it back to me, grinning. 

“What should I do?” 

“Ring him of course!” says Trish. 

“I don’t know…” I say. 

“You could just text him,” says Mark. 

“Great idea,” I say, feeling like I’ve been let off a scary ordeal.  It’s ridiculous that I should be worried about calling him after what happened the other night, but it is a whole different realm of fear. 

Trish chucks me her phone to use, and my heart pounds a little harder as I work on writing a text.  In the end this is what I plump for: 

‘Thank you for the rescue.  Ava’ 

He doesn’t keep me waiting long: 

‘No problem.  But I think you owe me one. ;-)’ 

‘Hmm … what did you have in mind?’ I shoot back. 

‘Your company.  Meet me tomorrow outside The Waterfront.’ 

‘When?’ 

‘2pm’ 

‘Alright then.  See you tomorrow.’ 

‘Looking forward to it.  Alfie’ 

I look up at my friends who are obviously staring, and I grin.  “That was easy!” 

“He must be keen,” says Trish. 

I shrug, and laugh.  “He may be hot, but I don’t know whether we’ll get on.  He must be a good guy though as he did save my life.” 

Trish nods and grins at me. 

We watch films until we can’t keep our eyes open any longer, then crash out.  Trish sleeps on a mattress on my floor and Mark sleeps on the sofa.  I wake regularly through the night, dreaming I am being attacked over and over.  When I open my eyes and see light streaming in around the edges of the blind I am relieved it is morning. 

Trish is still sleeping quietly so I lie in bed wondering what it will be like meeting up with Alfie later, feeling both excited and apprehensive.  Five minutes of wondering is all I get as her alarm goes off, and then there is a frenzy of activity as they get themselves ready for lectures. 

Soon it is time for them to leave. 

“Just think of us listening hard in our special relativity lecture while you’re meeting up with a hot guy,” Trish says, rolling her eyes. 

I pull a scared expression. 

“You’ll love it!  You never meet up with men,” Trish says. 

“Apart from me,” Mark says. 

“But he doesn’t count,” says Trish. 

“Hey!” Mark objects. 

“You’re not date material because we’ve known you forever,” Trish says. 

Mark makes a pseudo-hurt face. 

Trish and I laugh, and then the three of us group hug. 

“Have fun in physics,” I say to them.  “Thanks for staying with me.” 

“No probs,” says Mark.  “Enjoy your hot date.”   

He winks at me, and I whack him on the arm. 

“Stay safe,” Trish says. 

To keep reading check out Chapter 3.