Vampire Girlfriend: Epiphania 2 (complete)

Male Reader x Female Monster (both cis)

I leave the True Love’s Kiss, perturbed by what transpired between Epiphania and I, and go home to my apartment, finding my kitchen in a shocking state of disarray. My pad is on the floor and my pens are scattered everywhere. Chairs are toppled over, and the table has been pushed into the counter. My laptop, though, has been neatly set on the kitchen counter. I pick up one of the chairs and sit down, staring over my kitchen. As I do this, I see a small, blinking light in the corner of my eye. The red reminds me of my dream, and for a moment I panic before I realize it’s just my recorder, I sigh. But wait - if the light is on… I get up, picking up the recorder and checking the log on the back display. It’s been recording since I called Epiphania last night.

“Strange.” I return to the table and place the recorder for me. “Alright, what happened last night?” I whisper as I turn it on.

“Might I ask you something strange?” Dr. Epiphania’s voice stirs mixed emotions in me. She was right, the questions were easy, and the answers were the hard part. Our conversation goes on until that moment I last remember. “It won’t hurt, I promise.” Epiphania says gently.

I’m chuckling. “Okay, go ahead.” There’s some breathing through the silence, and then I can hear myself hit the floor.

“Theo!” Epiphania whispers urgently. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

I hear myself speaking, but it’s not in any language I know or have heard. I keep going on and on in this strange language, my voice growing louder and deeper as I go. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Epiphania whispers. “I know. It’s okay. You don’t need to worry, Agatha and I are fine. Just take your time. Please. I know you’re here.”

I turn off the recording and sit back in my chair. “Okay,” I breathe. “That answers fucking nothing.”

I play back the recording, if only to hear my own voice coming out as something I don’t recognize. The language, the way my tone deepens… Then there’s Epiphania herself. I feel as though I should know her, and it aggravates me. When we kissed, it felt truly natural. I shouldn’t have done it, and yet I’d willingly run back to True Love’s Kiss to do it again.

I laugh suddenly. I had a kiss at the True Love’s Kiss, and for all I know, it was my first. Ever since coming out of my coma, I’ve not considered any sort of relationship. I was asked out by a coworker once, but I turned him down. I thought I wanted to figure out who I was before I dated, but maybe there’s more to it that I don’t understand.

The puncture wounds on my wrist have healed. I can’t recall if I saw blood when I passed out, and there were no signs when I awoke either. Surely some blood should have spilled on my sleeve. I look paler than before, almost matching my now-back-length hair. I go to the kitchen sink and take the knife by the counter, which I just sharpened a while ago. I press the point of the blade into my palm, expecting a rush of red. But there’s none, merely a small droplet or two of what appears to be water.

“Shit,” I whisper. The water falls from my palm and onto the counter, where the old countertops darken under its touch. I set the knife aside, then press my thumb into the cut to cover it. By the time I get to the bathroom for a bandage, it’s already starting to seal.

It would be so easy to panic right now, but I’m tired, and I don’t want to think about today anymore. I want to go to sleep and try to start fresh in the morning, to conduct another interview at True Love’s Kiss and do it properly this time. I take a shower, scrubbing myself a little roughly, then go to bed and lie there in the dark. I try to sleep, but my eyes won’t close. I stare into the darkness and listen to cars swishing past outside, their lights coming through the crack in the curtains. I follow them along the blank wall, back and forth, back and forth. It goes dark again. I can hear a cat yowling outside. Another car passes, I follow the lights, and I see a figure in the shadows.

Fear courses through me, but when lights pass again, nothing is there. Just a jacket on the wall. I fall back into bed, pulling the blanket over my eyes. I lie there, not sleeping but feeling painfully hungry. Giving up, I return to the kitchen, taking a microwavable meal from the freezer. While it cooks, I take out the recorder and play that last bit again.

“It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

My voice emerges again, talking in the language I don’t know. The microwave dings, and I leave the table to fetch my meal. It smells awful, but everything does to me. As I’m stirring the contents, not paying attention, I hear myself speaking. “You have to focus when you dream,” I say. “You’re not looking when you do. All those things you see, that you believe are a blur - they aren’t. You almost had it last night. You need to look closer. We never could, though, could we?”

I spin around just to make sure no one else is in the room, but it’s just the recorder. I turn it off and take a few bites before I realize I can’t eat. The food is worse than I remember. I’m still so hungry, so drink a glass of warm water, hoping to stave off the feeling of an empty stomach until morning. I’ll go out and buy something good, but not now. Not when I feel so… inhuman.

I go back to bed, exhausted and uncertain. Lingering in this state will probably make me worse in the morning morning. I suppose I drift off, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m staring at the wall again, lights flashing through a small opening, showing faint images on the wall. They move back and forth, blurring together. The voices and sounds all meld into one cacophony. I watch like always, letting the blur go by me.

“Look at me,” a woman’s voice urges. “Look at me!” I see her emerging from the blur, almost in between the images. She’s almost visible when my alarm goes off. I wake, gasping and heaving, struggling to take in my surroundings. I turn off the alarm and sit up, delirious before it dawns on me that I’m in my apartment, alone. I huff, hanging my head onto my knees.

I get ready for my day like usual, or at least I try to make it usual. I tuck all my new hair under a beanie, hiding it away. I try to use my concealer, but I’m far too pale for it now. In the light, my eyes look red. That’s not normal, but it’s subtle enough that maybe no one will notice. I leave, deciding to go to work and start up my article there. I want some sense of normalcy now, even if I feel like shit.

Right now I can’t stomach anything, not even my favorite donut and coffee. I tried to enjoy them, but even with hunger rotting away my gut, I can’t. I have to throw them away. When I arrive at work, I get strange looks as I go to my desk. Sitting down, I start to work, but my eyes ache, so I put on my sunglasses.

“Theo, are you okay?” a coworker asks me. “You look pale. You’d better not be sick.”

I look up and shrug. “I’m feeling a bit off. But I need to finish this article.”

“Just work from home,” she says, passing me my mail. “Get some sleep. Looks like you need it.”

I know I must look haggard, so I take the excuse and leave the office once I get some work done. It’s bright out, and it feels like the ache in my eyes goes all the way down my spine. I feel relieved once I get on a bus, but the ride isn’t long enough to rest. I get off at the stop near True Love’s Kiss, hoping to get that difficult answer once and for all.

The receptionist lets me in, looking at me shocked as I pass. I suppose they already know where I’m heading. As I go up in the elevator, I lean against the wall, which is all made up of mirrors. I sigh heavily, gazing into my reflection. I look awful, pale, cheeks sunken. Could one bad night really destroy me like this? After a coma, you’d think I’d had enough of sleep.

The doors open, and I step out into the bronze-and-blue clinic lobby. There are a couple of people waiting, and a nurse approaches me. “She’s expecting you,” she says softly, leading me the same way Agatha did the day before. She takes me to Epiphania’s office, where she is waiting. She looks at me, expression soft and perturbed, and she clears her throat and approaches. “Welcome back. You left in such a hurry, I got worried.”

“Surprised I came back?” I set my bag aside.

She shakes her head. “No. I had a feeling you would.” She looks at me sympathetically. “Are you alright? You look…”

“Awful, I know,” I sigh. “I barely slept. I haven’t been able to eat even though I’m starving.” I scratch my temple. “But honestly, that’s the farthest thing from my mind right now. Everything that’s happened over the past week… It feels like an eternity. And yesterday…”

Epiphania sits down, rubbing her knees as she watches me struggle to pull my notepad from inside my bag. “When did you last eat?”

“Really?” I have to laugh.

Epiphania nods and pats the seat beside her. “Come sit beside me. Just talk to me.”

The hair on the back of my neck bristles. “Perhaps I should apologize.”

“No,” she murmurs, and tilts her head down. “Come and sit. Let me take a look at something.”

When I sit beside her, she takes my head in her hands and tilts it up, peering at my eyes and massaging the sides of my neck. I become aware of her scent. I watch her arm as she touches me, and the pale, pearly skin looks soft and delicious. I move my head, leaning closer to her arm, and for some reason she lets me. She even presses her wrist to my lips. She speaks in the same language I spoke yesterday when I fainted.

I grab her arm tightly so she won’t move. I’m so hungry, so very hungry. I bite into her arm, tasting her blood as it pools on my tongue. I growl like an animal, drinking her hungrily. Her voice comes out in moans with each gulp I take. She sounds aroused, coming closer to me as I feast upon her blood. I move my mouth from her arm and look into her eyes, finding them lidded and glassy. She smiles and presses my face to her neck, where I bite her again. Her hands rake through my hair and up my back. She wants me to feed upon her. I’m on top of her, holding her down on the sofa. “Theophanes,” she whines happily. “Theophanes!”

I feel sated and full, pulling away from her neck to kiss her. Her hands are tangled in the back of my shirt, holding me so I don’t leave her. Her lips are stained dark red when I pull away. She licks them seductively and smiles alluringly at me. I wipe my mouth, breathing hard. “What have I done?”

Epiphania sits up, cupping my face between her hands. “You fed, like we all do. It’s okay. You fed me once, and now I get to repay the favor.”

I gaze into those ruby eyes, bewildered by what has just transpired. I drank her blood, guzzled it like wine. In fact, it was better than wine. I feel stronger than before, rested. For the first time since I can remember, my stomach doesn’t feel like a churning, messy cauldron.

Epiphania wipes my face clean and kisses me again, soft and tender. “It’s okay.” She wraps me up warmly. “Don’t be afraid.”

I rest my head on her bosom, clutching her back. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re waking up,” she whispers. “You’ve healed.”

I cling to her desperately. “From what? I thought the coma was…” My voice chokes in my throat.

“Hush now,” Epiphania coos to me, stroking my hair through her long fingers. “The coma was only part of it. Your body is still healing.” She pulls away, holding my shoulders as she gazes into my eyes. “You’re awake, you’re here, and you’re going to be safe. I promise.”

My chest feels the same as it did during my dream, like that stake is through my heart and the garlic blossoms are shoved down my throat. “But who am I? I thought I knew… but…”

“Come, let me show you.” She takes my hand, and we go up a flight of stairs to the room I was in yesterday. She shows me a portrait on the wall, of a woman with a young girl beside her and a man standing behind them. It’s old, almost ancient in appearance. The couple are dressed in dark blue, and the young woman in coppery brown.

“I told you that Agatha and I were buried and forced to sleep for ages.” Epiphania sits down as I continue to stare up at the painting. “We had done nothing wrong except exist, but in those days, that was enough for others to take offense. My husband tried to save us. I heard his screams and tried to keep Agatha from hearing them. But I thought they had torn him apart.” She touches her fingers to her lips.

I lick my lips. “Your husband?”

“Theophanes.” She says the name and chills go down my spine. “He was a wonderful man. Saved my life and gave me purpose when I had none. Loved me even though I was nothing…” She breaks off and begins to cry. “He was my world.”

I look away from the painting and back to her. “If they killed him, why didn’t they kill you too?”

“I don’t think they did,” she whispers. She rises and places her hands on my shoulders.

I can’t look into her eyes for too long. It’s too familiar, too safe. “But I am not a vampire. That’s impossible.”

“You slept so long, and were so broken when they buried you.” She places her hand over my heart. “Stakes don’t kill us, only suspend us. You will recover, but slowly.” She undoes the buttons on my shirt to inspect me. There are scars on my chest, but I always assumed I received them at the hospital. “I think you’ve been recovering all this time. Your wounds were so deep that your body reverted in a way to allow it to heal. It’s happened before.”

I pull away from her and turn to the painting. The man in it looks tall and regal. “How do you know it’s really me?” I point at him.

“How do you not?” Her fingers brush along the sides of my neck. “When you drank from me, couldn’t you feel it?”

I turn my head to the side, and her lips brush against my skin. “I felt something.”

Epiphania kisses my skin, moving her hands down over my chest. “Look at me.”

I grasp her hands and look into her eyes as she smiles. “Show me, then. Make love to me as if I were your husband.”

“But you are,” she says brightly. She slips her fingers under my chin, kissing me softly. “You said you were hungry. Come,” she hisses into my ear. She grabs me, pulling me into the bedroom, where she throws me down roughly upon the bed. She grins, and the red corners of her mouth stretch almost back to her ears.

I prop myself up on my elbows, my fear overpowered by arousal. “What are you going to do to me, Epiphania?”

She sits down on top of me. “Do you still like me rough?”

I swallow. “I think so.”

She chuckles, then curls hand around my throat. “Get hard for me,” she urges. “Harder.” She rises enough to put a hand between her legs and rub me through my pants. “You said no one else could make you feel as alive as I do. I missed you.”

My breath shudders and I grab her wrist. Our skin is almost the same color. I can feel her grip tightening around me, tugging at the fabric and making them tight. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were taken from me!” She removes my clothes, ripping them from me and tossing them aside. She looks down at me naked on the bed, tears in her eyes. “Please…” she sobs. “I know it’s you.”

I sit up and hold my hand out to her. “What did you do when you woke up, Epiphania?”

She removes her dress, stepping out of it, and walks towards me. “I found them and I killed them all,” she whispers. “I ripped off their heads, I shredded their bodies.” She presses her body to mine. “I was so angry.”

I kiss her, letting her pin me back down onto the bed. This feels right. I always loved that she was bigger, stronger than I was. Even when she was mortal, I loved when she got vicious, her hand around my throat, her teeth leaving marks. I loved when she exerted her power over me, making me feel sweet, docile, and safe.

She cries as we make love. Her body trembles even as she tries to maintain the strength I loved. She pushes me down into the bed, biting me, bleeding me. I’ve been asleep so long, I can’t help but quake as her body rocks me.  When we’re finished, I stride across the room, picking up her robe and wrapping it around me. I light the incense she keeps in the little box on her dresser and I take a deep breath. I see myself in the mirror, with red eyes, and I smile.

“Don’t leave,” Epiphania whimpers from the bed.

“I’m not.” I go back to the bed and sit beside her. “I’m just remembering.”

She places her head on my lap. “Tell me.”

I run my fingers through her hair. “I like your hair this length. Then again, you’d always be beautiful to me.” I look towards the mirror again. “I can’t believe I forgot you.”

She rises, looking into my eyes. “Theophanes, are you really back?”

“I am. I’m sorry it took me so long.” I cup my hand around her face. “They promised me they wouldn't touch you if they tortured me. They lied.”

“They didn’t touch us. They buried us.” She smiles at me. “But you’re here! That’s all that matters.”

I hold her tight. “I’m still tired. I can’t express everything I want right now. Give me time. It will all come back soon.”

She lays her head back on my shoulder. Ages ago, she had been brought to me as an offering. Half-dead and used all her life, I took her in and saw to her recovery. I gave her a home and an education. I took pride in seeing her blossom, and she became a constant companion to me. It had never been my intent for anything romantic to arise between us, but it struck like a bolt of lightning. I fell for Epiphania like no one before, but I would not make her stay with me if there was any uncertainty in her heart. She asked for five years’ delay, but she had already made up her mind to join me in eternity. She simply wanted to age a little to match me. She drank my blood and we were wed, and for years we were happy. It wasn’t until we found Agatha, though, that we were complete.

Never having truly gotten over her past, Epiphania never let her tormentors go. She haunted them and their kind, becoming a monster to them. She took in others as I cared for her, sharing our home with them, and one day she took in Agatha. The girl was ill, and stayed that way even under our care. She was strong for a while, and we loved her so much, but we realized she was never going to recover. Unable to handle that pain, we let her drink my blood as well. She remained youthful, but she was healthy and strong for the first time. Together, we were happy but the world seemed to take offense at that.

That’s what my dreams were - those blurred-together scenes that had played so fast before me. They were my memories, begging me to read them, to even notice them. I feel like such a fool for pretending not to understand them after all this time, but I know I wasn’t ready to see them. Not until now.

“Theophanes?”

I surface from my thoughts and look down into Epiphania’s face. I smile, kissing the tip of her nose. “Where’s my child? I want to see her.”

Epiphania takes her phone and sends a message. “I’m afraid that robe is all you have to wear for now. I went a bit apocalyptic on your clothes.”

I chuckle. “I told you to.” I smile blissfully as she dresses. “Is all your clothing black?”

“I’ve been in mourning,” she says, slipping on something comfortable. “I’ve not felt like wearing color all this time.”

I chuckle. “Dramatic as always.”

There’s a knock, and I stand up. “Come in.”

Agatha comes in, her sunglasses off. She looks at me uncertainly, glancing at her mother and then back at me. “It’s okay,” Epiphania whispers. “It’s him.”

“I knew it!” Agatha’s voice breaks as she rushes into the room. She hugs me tightly, sniffling as I pet her hair. “I knew it was you when I first saw you!”

“I’m so glad you did.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m so sorry I was gone for so long.”

“We thought you were dead!” she sobs. “How are you here?”

I smile at her face, pinching her nose and making her smile. “I’m still trying to remember exactly. But apparently, they didn’t kill me thoroughly enough.”

Agatha beams, bouncing back into my arms again.

After a while, I’m aware that the sun is rising outside. I can feel the heat even though Epiphania’s bedroom has no windows. Agatha is resting, and I want to join her. “What will you do with Theo Finnes?”

I sigh and shrug. “I’m not sure. The identity has served me well since I entered recovery. He deserves to be remembered.”

Epiphania rests her head on my shoulder. “Will you continue that life?”

“I do enjoy being a reporter, but I don’t know how I’m going to explain all of this to my boss,” I laugh. “Perhaps I’ll see what life here at True Love’s Kiss has to offer. You can train me.”

She kisses me. “I went to school.”

I look at her fondly, feeling my heart swell in my chest. “I am so proud of you,” I whisper. “For all you’ve done since waking.”

She cuddles up to me. “You told me to thrive is the best revenge.”

“You still killed your tormentors,” I remind her gently.

“Because I wanted to be thorough.” She kisses me again, then stands up. “Stay here today. Agatha and I have work to do. You’re still recovering, and it shows. Stay here today, I’ll come and check on you later.”

She gently rouses our child, and Agatha sits up and yawns, stretching out her arms. “You still want to work today?”

“I have appointments I can’t ignore,” Epiphania says as she pulls out an outfit. “Same goes for you.”

As Agatha leaves, Epiphania comes to my side. She kisses me, then exposes her neck to me. “I’ll bring you something other than myself to eat today. But for now…”

“You sure? Don’t you have work?”

She gives me that smile, and I know I am home.