Vampire Girlfriend: Epiphania 2 (special preview)

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.