Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/z9pgcz/wp_a_vampire_woman_stands_in_front_of_you_any/

If one asked what drove Elliot to seek out danger, he would smile, shrug, and say he was a thrill seeker by heart.

What he left out was that it was the only thing he could feel any longer. Without the brief, espresso shots of adrenaline that only peril could pull, there was only a cup that’s already been drunk. Barely anything left, save for the smidges of something Elliot craved so much—and grew increasingly immune to.

For the most mundane man, adding an extra tinge of sugar to their coffee was thrill enough. And yet, there were those who felt nothing blasting through the sky at the speed of sound. Or going into space, staring into the deep darkness, not considering the endless possibilities those held.

Elliot tried them all. The natural world was not enough to satisfy him—and thus, he tried to supersede it.

And it was so when Elliot saw the face of his imminent death, he was enthralled.

For it was a vampire, those fabled creatures of the night. With a visage so beautiful, it made one almost beg for the torture at hand, to seek out the hot, blood-pumping thrill that only a creature of the night could freely give.

Glinting eyes, shiny scarlet with a pervasive bloodlust. White skin so unholy that it invoked an angelic presence, the stark light of heaven peering through. Sharp fangs that seemed capable of not just piercing through skin, but one’s very soul to draw out any and all vitality of the human spirit.

“Any last words before I feed on you, human?”

Elliot thought. He truly thought, in those moments, a thousand ideas running through his mind, coalescing into a question that was innocuous to most.

“Do you miss the sunrise?”

It might as well have been a silver cup full of holy water for a vampire.

The creature of the night hissed, drawing her head back. In moments, gone was the look of a hungry predator. Instead, there was but a scared woman, whose eyes quivered, wetness forming into a drop of blood that rolled slowly down her cheek.

“Yes,” she said.

Elliot stared at the vampire, watching her face contort with emotion, yet remained perfectly suitable to be an art piece at the Louvre.

“Then,” he whispered. “Why not watch it together?”

—

Brea, the vampire, stared at what should be fast food — quick, dirty, and barely nutritional enough to be considered sustenance.

What could a mere mortal suggest to stay her hand? Begging for their lives didn’t work. It only served to increase the adrenaline coursing through their veins, their heart pumping ever faster. Sure, it made the blood less delicious—but it was an extra high for a vampire undiscerning about taste.

There were those that tried to threaten. Brea would scoff at them, and enjoy playing the game for a little while, pretending to be vulnerable. A vampire who lived as long as Brea knew her weaknesses very well. Unless her opponent was gifted with preternatural athleticism, it was difficult to wrangle out of her strong grip. Staking a vampire heart sounded easy—unless you knew how strong and accurate you needed to be.

And crosses? They burned, of course. But in a way, she’s learned to enjoy the pain. It was one of the few things that gave her any sort of feeling any longer.

But to be asked whether she missed the sunrise? It gave her pause. For the first time in eternity, she actually thought about that question, the age-old nemesis of night—and the creatures that lurk in its shadows.

She stared at the man, with a look borne not out of hunger, but curiosity. The dilapidated mansion that Brea called home was certainly off the beaten path. It might have once been a grand old place, fit for a king. Now, Brea shared her abode with rats and old bones piled up like nests. Where there was decaying concrete, there were thriving vines, eager to hold onto even the illusion of stability.

The great room that they now stood in barely allowed the slightest hint of moonlight to make its way inside, by virtue of the decades of muck that now painted the wall-length windows—the same would apply for the day. And though there was a veritable surplus of rooms spread throughout, Brea had found herself with little interest to explore. Instead, she was increasingly drawn as near as vampirically possible to the door, without being burnt to a crisp. All the better it was to reach her food.

There was a steady diet of tourists or thrill-seekers that found their way here, enough that she barely had to go out for a hunt. Here was another dishevelled mortal, looking every bit like a feral child left to run wild in the forests

Yet, those eyes. There were something wrong with them.

“Watch it,” Brea whispered. “I can kill you in a moment’s notice.”

“And yet I stand,” the human said, lips barely curling upwards. “Trust me, the prospect of it is not unwelcome. But I’ve merely wanted to ask a question that has never been answered.”

“It is answered by the burning of vampires in the day,” Brea said. “It is a distant dream.”

“Do you think those vampires experience catharsis when they see the sunrise? Humans seek danger. Some crave it. For staring at death is what reminds them they are alive.”

—

Brea was familiar with fear. Wide-open saucers for the eyes, quivering lips, and muted sounds desperately trying to scramble out of their throat.

The human’s face, however, was entirely devoid of it.

Then again, that expression might be void of anything at all. If Brea could look into a mirror, she was certain that those would be the eyes that gazed back at her, an infinite abyss filled with haunting, powerless screams.

To most, it’s a blank canvas. Instead, Brea knew that it was an oil painting—good or bad—that had its colour drained and removed, rendering it a white shadow of its former self, with barely any traces that there once was living, breathing art.

“I am not alive,” the vampire said.

“But you are not dead,” the human said. “Well, at least not outwardly. You are moving, are you not? You need food to survive, hence why you were so hungrily staring at my neck just a few moments before.”

“And what about you?” Brea retorted. “You do not feel alive.”

The human forced a plastic smile and shook his head gently.

“When you had your hand around my throat, I did. For a few seconds, at least,” the human said.

The two stared at each other, with only the brief sounds of cricket interrupting the thick quiet. The human slowly moved his hand towards the vampire, gently brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen out of place. Moonbeams, like gentle spotlights, shone on the pair.

When in a war, soldiers, even on opposite sides, inevitably formed a camaraderie. These two were veterans of their own, battles churning their souls like moaning waves crashing onto an unfeeling beach. Allyship was fast when it concerned life and death.

“Elliot,” the human whispered.

“Brea,” the vampire said.

Or between the undead and the barely-living.

“Few hours till sunrise,” Elliot said. “I’ll say we have time to kill.”

Brea wanted to spit out a comeback. But she felt longing tugging at her heart. Her mind dredged up deep memories of facing the sun, eyes barely flitting open, a careful game of trying to get as much sunlight as possible without burning her own irises.

The sun that shone on her, as she ticked off milestone after milestone in her life. New school, new classes, new boyfriend, new job, new girlfriend.

They were consigned to nothing but thoughts, supposedly never to resurface. But Elliot had thrown the line.

“Has the sun changed at all?” Brea said.

And the vampire desperately wanted to bite it.

“It has,” Elliot said, staring at the sky. That all-consuming expanse of night, shrouding everything it touches in darkness. The moon peeking out and the pinpricks of starlight did little to prevent the cool contact of gloom from its affection.

“Feels like it gets duller every year,” he whispered.

The vampire shifted on her feet, hands gripping the windowsill. The scent of a human was uncomfortably close. It took precious restraint not to throw him to the floor and consume him for all he was worth.

It felt strange to her. Different. To actively not do something. As opposed to simply not doing anything, like she’s done for years.

“Strange,” Brea said. “Seems like it grows ever brighter. Even though all I’ve done is stare at it from inside. Watch the remnants burn spots into the floor.”

“Strange indeed,” the human said.

Elliot turned towards Brea, truly taking her in for the first time. When the vampiric monster wasn’t at the forefront, there was a remarkably human quality to her. Her pale face was as still as a lake, though her thin lips quivered like it was cold. The whole look gave her a fragile sort of strength, like glass.

“How long have you lived?”

“I stopped counting,” the vampire said. “Or I can’t remember. One of the two.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I think so,” Brea said. “It’s the difference between not caring and forgetting.”

“Hmm,” Elliot said.

The two fell silent, watching. Waiting.

“Was being immortal worth it?”

The vampire turned to the human. For the first time tonight, a small hint of a smile lifted Brea’s lips.

“I’m going to watch the sun with you,” she said. “What do you think?”

“Well,” Elliot said.” For what it’s worth, it could be an ample ending to a full life. Live centuries, call it a day, and walk into the sunrise.”

“Live,” Brea said. “I don’t think I’ve lived for a while now.”

The vampire inhaled deeply, feeling the rush of air go through her lungs. It was a peculiar feeling. She’s never been more aware of herself and her body. She could feel the inspiration go through her nose, down into her lungs, and out again, at once familiar but forgotten.

And yet, she wasn’t breathing.

“I existed. Hunt humans, hunted by them. One day, it wasn’t worth the hassle. And night by night, it became impossible to be worth the hassle.”

Brea dug her nails into the wooden windowsill, which crumbled beneath her strength.

“Because there’s always a tomorrow,” the vampire said. “Always. Never-ending. No expiration date on my desires. And thus, it remained stuck in place.”

“After today…” Elliot whispered.

“There would be no more tomorrow,” Brea finally smiled. “That thought somehow comforts me.”

She turned towards the human, hand cradling his cheek.

“I think that’s why you’re here,” Brea said. “To spur me to make a decision. Something I haven’t done for far too long.”

“And why am I here?” Elliot said.

“I know you don’t want eternal life,” Brea said. “You look like you’re done with this one already.”

“I am,” Elliot said, his voice wavering. “Or I was.”

“If I turn you today, you die today,” Brea said. “Try to live a little longer. Maybe something excites you.”

“I think I found her.”

“Then savour it.”

Elliot felt that there was a bubble over the two of them. Imperceivable, but not impermeable. For the first time in forever, there was a closeness that made his heart beat furiously.

“Pity,” he murmured.

“Better that is happened, and all that,” Brea said. “I figured out why you are here. For me, at least. Think you’ll figure something out on your own?”

“Not alone.”

The vampire sidled up to the human, spindly fingers lightly tracing his warm skin, over the veins so prominent. With so many senses, she could feel the blood streaming underneath. Hear the heartbeat quicken. Warm rivers streamed underneath, with an intoxicating smell that tickled her nose.

Usually, the hunger would have overwhelmed her, forcing her to leap and tear into glorious crimson. Instead of the horrid emptiness that tended to dominate her being, she felt full of anticipation, turning her eyes towards the horizon.

“I’m here for a little longer.”

“For how much longer?”

“However long till the sun rises,” Brea said. Little shivers ran up and down her spine. Muscles tugged at her lips, making her cheeks sore—that was how long ago a smile last graced her face.

Elliot could almost smell the day coming. Like the sun was going to burst over the horizon in a matter of seconds, bringing forth the scent of the world.

“I don’t know if coming out here was what I needed,” Elliot sighed. “I wanted to find something new. That would change my life, you know. Make me somebody else.”

“Hell, you found something new,” Brea chuckled. “A vampire that wants to see the sun.”

“I suppose so,” the human grimaced.

“You are being too greedy,” the vampire said. “You changed my life. You did good!”

“Somebody’s feeling chipper.”

“Thanks to your great suggestion, Elliot…”

Brea, whose eyes had been trained on the horizon, gasped. A lazy orange hue rose above the skyline, a floating cloud of eventuality. Yawning pink streaks pushed themselves up and above, pilfering the darkness bit by bit.

“God,” she whispered. Her tongue almost caught fire, but it felt appropriate to the great blazing ball poking its head into view.

“I barely got to talk to you,” Elliot said, still staring at the vampire. Her pale face was lit up both in and out, a glow that was only visible by the nascent sunlight.

“You got more out of me than any human ever did,” she said, turning to lightly punch his shoulder. “Ever will, actually. Consider that a honour.”

The sun’s first blade scythed across the sky. With God’s finger flicking the light switch, brightness flooded the sky, now taking on a brilliant blue.

“That’s it, I think,” the vampire’s voice trembled, and her eyes watered. “That’s what I’ve been looking for.”

Elliot grabbed her hand firmly. She tore her eyes away from the sky.

The human saw a smile as radiant as the sun itself from the creature of the night.

Then, there was nothing but dust.

Instinctually, Elliot clenched his fist tight, holding on to whatever was left.

“Ever will,” he said. His eyes tried to follow what was once Brea. Then, he shut them tight. Only then did a perfect image of her form, backlit by the merciless sun.

“Today, she lived,” the human said, standing up. He shoved the fist in his pocket.

His feet began to walk, though his mind was still struggling to do so. But he walked, nonetheless, away from a place that so quickly became a treasured memory.