The orange streetlamps turned the world a ruddy ochre and cast dramatic shadows across the pavements as David walked home via the backstreets of his northern British city. He'd been for some drinks with his girlfriend after work and now he was walking home with his head down and hands stuffed in the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms, ignoring the chill in the early winter air.
He could see the high-rise flats where he lived looming over the roofs of the redbrick terrace houses that sprawled across the city. 'Fifteen minutes' he thought, 'almost home.' For some reason he felt on edge tonight, the area was rough but that had never bothered him before, he was athletic and could handle himself in a fight if needs be, but tonight he couldn't wait to get back to the safety of his one bedroomed flat on the sixth floor.
Ahead of him and to the right, from the shadow of a doorway a figure emerged, David felt a pang of nerves in the pit of his stomach, keeping his head down he passed the figure, a youth of around sixteen, skinny and dressed in a dark coat who was looking at him through the dull light, a thin smile on his face. After passing the boy David glanced over his shoulder but he seemed to have disappeared, back into the shadows. The hairs on the back of David's neck stood on end, all his senses seemed heightened, silence seemed to have covered the backstreets like a sheet though his ears strained to hear any sound. Don't be stupid Dave, he was just a kid.' And then, without warning as he passed the gate of someone's back yard he was yanked violently off of his feet and to his left.
His grunt of panic was stopped before it left his mouth by a cold, slender hand that clamped over his lips. He had been pulled through the gate and was in an empty yard surrounded by brick walls. David thrashed powerfully with his elbows and legs trying to shake off his attacker who held him from behind, but the strong arms held him as though he was a child. He tried to prise the hand off of his mouth, grabbing hold of the wrist with his large hands, the wrist was very thin but absurdly his best efforts made no difference.
David was spun around and thrust against the redbrick wall of the house, for the first time he got a good look at his attacker, it was the boy. He was quite short and slight of build, in the shadows of the yard David couldn't make out the colour of his hair, but his eyes were pale and calm and the same thin smile played over his lips, his cheekbones were high and his skin smooth. No matter how David struggled the boy deflected his blows and kept him pinned against the wall. The strong hands began to roam across David's body and the thin smile moved closer to David and began to nuzzle into the nape of his neck almost affectionately. David groaned in disgust as a cool tongue licked around his ear and neck and thin fingers deftly untied the drawstring on his tracksuit bottoms. He called out as the boys strong arms swept him off of his feet and onto the ground, the small frame of his attacker lightly landing on top of him, with horror he realised that his boxers and bottoms had been pulled down as he fell and were now being pulled to his ankles. He began to fight back with renewed vigour but it was useless, again a hand was over his mouth, another on groping between his legs, his trainered feet were struggling above the boy's shoulders and something wet was being rubbed between his cheeks and around his hole. David closed his eyes tightly and held his breath, turning his head away as far as he could reach as though that could help to dampen the shame. He felt cool breath on his neck and the slick head of the boy's member against his anus. He prepared for himself for what was to come as the boy pushed gently against his sphincter but cried out in pain and confusion as he unexpectedly felt a stab in his neck, he could hear the boy sucking greedily by his ear, he was being bitten. No sooner had the realisation struck than he felt the boys cock enter him. Thrust after thrust the boy pushed into him, greedily sucking on his bleeding neck, it seemed to go on for an eternity, David stopped struggling, he became weak, accepting, he felt something between horror and euphoria, could he really be enjoying this? His limbs became flaccid like a rag doll as the boy continued to pound into him, drinking all the time until David slipped from consciousness.
The next thing David remembered he was stumbling home in the early dawn light. His head pounded and he couldn't decide if his arse or his neck hurt the most. He was worried he might shit himself. He came to his deserted high-rise and unlocked the heavy metal door. The corridor seemed painfully bright in the florescent light and the elevator seemed to take forever to take him up to floor six.
In his bathroom he looked in the mirror, his skin was pale and clammy and on his neck was an ugly bite wound. Any blood had been cleaned away from his skin but his tee-shirt had a dark brown stain at the collar. He slowly peeled his clothes off, sat on the toilet wincing at the pain as he emptied his bowels, when he wiped there was blood smeared on the toilet roll. He showered and crawled into his bed. He had never felt so tired or so hollow. He slept on and off for around sixteen hours, when he woke again fully it was 11.15 pm and he was desperately thirsty, he stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the draining board, it smashed in his hand. 'Fuck!' he exclaimed in a hoarse voice, he grabbed at another glass, more gently this time and filled it from the tap. He began to gulp down the water but it tasted foul, he retched into the sink. He went to the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk; again it was foul, like vomit. He checked the use-by date, not for days... he let the water run and run in the sink but still it tasted terrible. He went to try the sink in the bathroom and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The wound on his neck was half gone, though enflamed the ugly red bite-marks had healed over with new skin. Astonished though he was, he was so thirsty he couldn't think. He began to drink from the bathroom tap. It was no better than the water from the kitchen but he swallowed all the same, only to vomit it up again. He lay on the cold tiled floor naked and shivering, clutching at his stomach and wondering what was happening to him.
David slept fitfully through the next day, when occasionally he woke the light burned his eyes and he hid beneath the duvet on his bed, his thoughts never straying from the boy, he wanted to find him. He wanted to kill him. When night came once again David rose, head swimming, stumbling as he dressed hurriedly, desperately thirsty and unable to drink anything, panicked and in pain. The wound on his neck was now no more than a mark but the pain was in his stomach, he felt drunk, manic, afraid.
He left the high-rise, barging past a nervous looking woman by the door, wandering through the backstreets of the terraces that surrounded his flat. Some instinct seemed to be directing him, telling him to go this way or that. Tears began to run down his cheeks as he wondered mournfully what could be happening. He felt empty inside and utterly lost but he continued with urgency past redbrick houses and narrow backstreets. His only thought was his thirst and the memory of the boy's hands on him, the sound of him guzzling by his ear.
After walking like this for an hour he found himself standing before a large house in a nicer part of town, a small garden fronted the building that was over-grown with brambles and weeds, the windows were filthy, only just showing through to stained net curtains and dark rooms. The house seemed utterly deserted but David had a strange sense he must go inside. He tried banging on the door to no avail, after walking round the back of the house he saw a boarded up window which he could pull back to enter the building.
It was completely dark in the room but through the door he could see a feint glow. He followed the light into a side room in which a slender figure was sitting with his back to him at a rickety looking table, silhouetted by the light of the candle he was looking into. David knew now what he'd been looking for, it was the boy.
David's voice came out a hoarse whisper 'What's happening to me?' he asked stupidly, The boy turned to him, his calm eyes and thin smile now looked concerned, almost kind. 'Don't worry, come sit with me. I imagine you must be thirsty?' David sat upon an empty chair, shadows danced around the contours of the boy's face as the candle flickered. David noticed two wineglasses on the table for the first time, filled with liquid that looked black in the dim light. 'My name's Alistair,' He passed one of the glasses to David who lifted it to his lips suspiciously, he was so thirsty though that he paused for only a second before closing his eyes and emptying the glass into his mouth. It was thick, tasted of iron and salt and was the most incredible thing David had ever drank, filling his body with warmth and energy. Every nerve in his body seemed to be electrified as he gasped a breath and slammed his glass down on the table. Opening his eyes the room seemed brighter, he could see into the shadows in the corners of the room, he could smell the mould, damp plaster and still the scent of the drink, he could hear the traffic of the city and his own pulse pounding in his ears. The boys smile was knowing, David could see now that his eyes were pale blue, his hair a sandy brown. He looked beautiful, David hated him. He pushed the second glass towards David who drank deeply and then pushed she glass away. 'What did you do?' David asked again, his voice more assertive. The boys smile broadened but he said nothing. 'What did you do?' He was standing now, he felt suddenly strong again, the boy seemed so small, how could he ever have over-powered him. He walked round the table and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him to his feet, knocking down the chair; he seemed to weigh almost nothing. 'What did you do to me?' He demanded, inches from the boy's face, he felt he could take on the world, the boy only smiled silently. He pushed him back and slammed him into a wall which shuddered, shedding chunks of plaster. David wanted to hit him, beat him, kill him. Instead, to his own astonishment he kissed him fully on the lips. The boy kissed back, curling his arms around David's broad back. It seemed that what David had taken for rage had turned to lust; he pushed the boy to the dirty floorboards, kissing aggressively, hands tearing at clothes, carnal grunts and sweat pouring out of him. Never once did David think of the fact he was with a male for the first time, not once did he think of his girlfriend, the world was a blur of skin, the taste of the boys mouth and the smells of bodies, dust and mould. Soon they were naked and the boy was rubbing something cold and wet onto David's hard cock. The boy had to guide David to his opening. David heard the boy moan, he was pushing into his body which was moist and tight. David thrust into him over and over, his knees bleeding against the floor, his fingernails biting into the boys flesh. He fucked him harder than he'd ever fucked before, so drunk on the primal pleasure of it he did not notice the boy bearing his teeth in pleasure, showing extended, pointed canines. When David came in the boy he all but screamed, never losing eye contact for a second. The boy squirted around the same time, pale eyes shining, they ended in a heap, panting through gritted teeth. After lying there for some time the boy spoke 'What's your name?' 'David.' Softer this time; 'What did you do to me?' Alastair stroked his face, 'You know,' he replied 'Say it...' David paused, nuzzled into the boys neck for comfort 'You've made me a vampire.' He replied, he supposed he'd known all along.