Vampire Girlfriend: Epiphania 2 (rough draft)

I left the TLK, perturbed by what had transpired between Epiphania and I. I went home to my apartment, finding my kitchen in the most shocking state of disarray. My pad is on the floor, my pens are scattered everywhere. Chairs are toppled over, the table is kicked back 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’m doing 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. Once I realize it is just my recorder, I sigh. But wait, if the light is on, then that means it has been recording all night! I get up, picking the recorder up 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 to it as I turn it on.

“Might I ask you something strange?” Her voice stirs mixed emotions in me. She was right, the questions were easy, the answers were what was hard. Over conversation went on until that moment I last remember.

“It won’t hurt, I promise.” Epiphania says gently.

I was chuckling. “Okay, go ahead.” There’s some breathing with 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 then hear myself speaking, but it’s not in any language I know or have heard. I keep speaking and going on and on in this strange language, 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 played back the recording, if only to hear my own voice coming out as something I could never recognize. The language, the way it deepened as it went on. Then there was Epiphania herself. I felt as though I should know her, everything felt familiar and it aggravated me. When we kissed, or well, I kissed. It felt natural, she kissed me in return. I shouldn’t have done it and yet I’d willingly run back to the True Love’s Kiss now to do it again.

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

The puncture wounds on my wrist have healed, but that isn’t what is strange. I can’t recall if I saw blood when I passed out, and there were no signs when I awoke either. Surely some should have spilled on my sleeve. There’s also the fact that I look paler than before, almost matching my now back length hair. I stand up, going to the kitchen sink and taking the knife by the counter. I know it’s sharp, I just sharpened it myself a while ago. I take the blade, digging into my palm and expecting a rush of red. There is no red, merely a small droplet or two of what appears to be just water.

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

It would be so easy to react and panic right now, but I’m tired, though, and I don’t want to think about this day anymore. I want to go to sleep and try to start fresh in the morning. Try to interview at the True Love’s Kiss, and properly this time. I get a shower, washing myself a little roughly, then I go to bed and lay there in the dark. I try to sleep, but even my eyes won’t close. I lay there awake, staring into the darkness and hearing the passage of cars outside, their lights passing through the crack in the curtains. I follow them along the blank wall, back and forth, back and forth. It goes dark again, no cars but I can hear a cat yowling outside. A car passes, I follow the lights, I see a figure in the shadows.

Fear courses through me, but when lights go through again, nothing is there. Just a jacket on the wall. I fall back into bed, pulling the blanket up over my eyes. I lay there, not sleeping but feeling painfully hungry. Giving up, I go back to the kitchen, taking out some 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.”

That voice that is mine comes out again, talking in that language I do not know. The microwave goes off and I leave the table to fetch it. It smells awful, but everything does to me. As I’m stirring the contents, not paying attention, I hear myself speaking to me.

“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. Almost. You need to look closer. We never could, though, could we?”

I spin around just to make sure there was no one sitting there, but it was just the recorder. I turn it off and take a few bites before I realize I can’t eat it. It is worse than I remember. I’m still so hungry though, so all I do is drink a glass of warm water, hoping to stave off that feeling until morning. I would go out and buy something good, but not now, not when I feel so...inhuman.

I go back to bed, although that’s not really where I want to be. I’m exhausted, uncertain, and lingering in this state will probably make me worse come 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 just watch like always, letting the blur go by me.

“Look at me,” a woman’s voice urges. “Look at me!”

I see her there, moving out from the blur, almost in between the images. She is almost there, 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 there, delirious before it dawns on me. I’m in my apartment, I’m alone there. 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 up 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 shift from brown to red. That’s not normal, but as long as I stand still, maybe no one will notice. I leave, deciding to go to work and start up my article there. I want to feel 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 this morning, but even with my hunger rotting away my gut, I couldn’t. I had to throw them away. I go into work, receiving strange looks as I go to my desk. Sitting down, I start to work, but my eyes ache horribly, so I put on my sunglasses.

“Theo, are you okay?” Someone asks me. “You look pale. You better not be sick.”

I look up at them and shrug. “I am feeling a bit off. But I need to finish something with this article.”

“Just go 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 paper once I do 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 it isn’t long enough to rest. I get off for the TLK, hoping to find that difficult answer for myself once and for all.

The receptionist lets me in, looking at me shocked as I pass them. I suppose they already know where I am heading. I go off to the elevator and press the buttons. As I go up, I lean against the wall, which was all made up of mirrors. I sigh heavily, gazing into my reflection. I look awful, really pale, cheek sunken. Could one bad night really destroy me like that? After that coma you’d think I’d have enough sleep to go off of.

The doors open and I step out into that bronze and blue lobby. There are a couple of people waiting and a nurse approaches me. “She’s expecting you.” She says softly, leading me back the same way Agatha did the day before. She takes me back to Epiphania’s office, where she is waiting.

She looks at me, expression soft and rattled. 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 huff. “Barely slept. 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 has 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 out my note pad from inside my bag. “When did you last eat?”

“Really?” I have to laugh.

She 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 whispers. “No.” She 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, she looks at my eyes, massages the sides of my neck. I become aware of her skin, her scent. I watch her arm as she touches me. The pale, pearly pink skin looks soft, looks 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 that language, the same 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 upon my tongue.

I growl like an animal, drinking her hungrily. Her voice comes out in moans, breathing deeply with each gulp I take. She sounds aroused by this, even coming closer to me as I feast upon her blood. I move my mouth from her arm and look into her eyes, seeing they are lidded and glassy. She smiles and presses my face to her neck where I bite her again. Her hands claw through my hair, up my back. She wants me there, wants me to feed upon her. I am on top of her, holding her down upon 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 painted blackish red when I pull away. She licks them seductively and smiles so alluringly at me.

I wipe my mouth, breathing hard. “What have I done?”

She 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 of hers, bewildered by what has just transpired. I drank her blood, I guzzled it like wine. In fact, it was better than wine. I felt stronger than before, I felt rested. For the first time since I can remember, my stomach didn’t feel like a churning, messy cauldron.

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

I rest my head upon her bosom, holding 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 all, I thought-” My voice chokes in my throat.

“Hush now,” she 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 spike is back 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 set of stairs to the room I was in yesterday. She shows me a painting on the wall of a woman with a young girl beside her and a man standing behind them. It was old, almost ancient in appearance. The couple were garbed in dark blue, while the young woman was dressed in copper.

“I told you that Agatha and I were buried and forced to sleep for ages.” She sits down as I continue to stare up at the painting. “We had done nothing wrong except exist, and back in those days, that was all the fodder they needed. My husband tried to save us. I heard his screams, tried to keep Agatha from hearing them. But I thought they had tore him apart.” She touches her finger tips 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, gave me purpose when I had none. Loved me even though I was nothing-” Her voice chokes off as she begins to cry. “He was my world.”

I look away from the painting and turn 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 upon 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. “Spikes do not kill us, not forever. Once removed, you will recover, but slowly.” She undoes the buttons on my shirt to inspect me. There are scars on my chest, but I had always assumed it was from the hospital. “I think you’ve been recovering all this time. So deep were your wounds that your body reverted in a way to allow it to heal. It has 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 from behind. “When you drank 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 pull her hands away from me. I grab her 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,” she hisses into my ear. “Come.” She grabs me, pulling me into the bedroom where she throws me down roughly upon the bed. She grins, revealing slits back to her ears where her mouth opens wider.

I prop up on my elbows, my own fear overpowered by my own 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 snaps her hand around my throat. “Get hard for me,” she urges. “Harder.” She rises enough to put a hand down between her legs and rub me through my pants. “You said no one else could make you feel as alive as I do.” She bites her lip, moaning as she strokes me. “I missed you.”

My breath shudders and I grab hold of 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,” she whimpers. “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 from the bed 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 natural, this feels right. I always loved that she was bigger than me, stronger than I was. Even when she was mortal, I loved when she felt 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 that strength I loved before. She pushes me down into the bed, biting me, bleeding me. I have been asleep so long, I cannot help but awaken and quake deeply as her body rocks me.

When I awaken again, I stride across the room, picking up her robe and wrapping it around me. I light the incense she keeps in the same little box on her dresser and I take in a deep breath. I see myself in the mirror, I see myself with red eyes and I smile.

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

“I am not.” I go back to the bed and sit beside her. “Just remembering is all.”

She places her head upon 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 cannot believe I forgot you.”

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

“I am. So 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 cannot get across everything I want right now. Give me time, it will all come back soon.”

She lays her head back down upon 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, an education. I took pride in seeing her become so strong, and she became a constant companion to me. It had never been my intent for anything romantic to arise, but like a bolt of lightning, it struck me. I fell for Epiphania like no one before, but I let her choose life if she wanted it. I would not make her stay with me if there was any uncertainty in her heart.

She asked for five years to make up her mind, but she had already made up her mind to join me in eternity. She simply wanted to age a little to match me. I never knew this until later. 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 always took care of who she found, giving them chances in our home. Until one day, she brought home Agatha. The girl was sick, 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 in her life. Together, we were happy, but the world seemed to take offense at that. That’s what my dreams were. Those blurred together images and 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 I had pretended to not see them after all this time. I know in a way I wasn’t ready to see them. Not until now.

“Theophanes?”

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

Epiphania takes her phone and sends out a message. “I’m afraid that 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 you have black?” I ask.

“I’ve been in mourning,” she says, slipping on something comfortable. “I have 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 removed. She looks at me unsurely, glancing to her mother than back at me. “It’s okay,” Epiphania whispers. “It’s him.”

“I knew it!” Her voice breaks as she rushes into the room. She hugs me tight, 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 cries. “How are you here?”

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

Agatha just beams, bouncing back into my arms again.

After a while, I am aware that the sun is rising outside. I can feel the heat from it, even though Epiphania’s place has no windows. Agatha is resting, and I am almost joining her. “What will you do with Theo Finnes?”

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

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

“I do enjoy being a reporter, but I don’t know how I am going to explain all of this to my boss,” I laugh. “Perhaps I will see what life here at the TLK has to offer. Perhaps you can train me.”

She kisses me. “I went to school.”

I look at her deeply, feeling my heart swell to take over 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 slaughtered them,” I say with a smirk.

“Because I am good at it.” She kisses me again then stands up. “Stay here today. Agatha and I have work to do.” She gently rouses our child. “You’re still recovering, and it shows. Stay here today, I’ll come and check on you later.”

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.