Immortal

The first time I died was a Wednesday.

The biscuits were in the oven, wafting a buttery scent through the house. The table was set: floral teacups upon floral saucers upon floral placemats, and I was wearing my best shirt.

Illustrated by Betty Everett

The doorbell rang as I was lighting the fireplace, and my eyes widened; she was here. I scuttled to the door, took a deep breath, and pulled the door towards me. There she was, as beautiful as I remembered. A red dress clinging to her body, her dark hair in ringlets around her face, framing her gorgeous dark red eyes. Were eyes supposed to be red? I couldn’t remember. She smiled at me and stepped inside, her teeth were white and appeared almost sharp.

I tried to speak- a simple hello would have sufficed, but I couldn’t seem to spit anything out. Every word caught in my throat, so I just stared at this beautiful creature as she shut the door behind her. The hallway was cramped, and she pressed against me, her skin cold to the touch, so very cold. Suddenly I was cold. My body needed heat; I longed to stand by the fire and let the warmth wash over me. I couldn’t move, I was stuck in place, no words could escape until she took a small step backwards and my body came back to life.

‘Are you going to invite me in then?’ she said, looking into my eyes.

‘Of course,’ I managed, my voice gravelly. I led her to the living room and gestured for her to take a seat. ‘I have tea’, turning on my heels.

‘No,’ she said, taking my hand and pulling me onto the sofa.  An intense craving crept in. I needed something, maybe the roar of the fire to warm my hands, or maybe it was her, her icy touch. Suddenly, her hands were cupping my face, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The only thing I could focus on was her, ruby red eyes holding my gaze until they weren’t anymore, and I was staring at the ceiling as her lips caressed my neck. Had that crack always been on the ceiling or…

Teeth, sharp teeth digging into my neck- this was more than just playful love bites. she was feeding.

Minutes went by, and I grew fainter and weaker, and yet my craving grew stronger. What did I need? Food, maybe, I had those biscuits in the oven still, and the alarm would go off any moment. But those golden treats with chocolate oozing out of the centre did not appeal in the slightest; in fact, the thought made me feel nauseous. ‘I’m going to die,’ I said as she finally removed herself from my neck.

‘Only for a moment.’ she smiled, pressing her wrist to my mouth and clamping my teeth around it. The taste of copper, making me feel strong for a moment before my life ended.