1
Iwoke up with a gasp.
Am I dying?
Cold wrapped around me and cut into my bones like a thousand daggers.
Despite being in total darkness, I could easily discern my surroundings. I was in a metal box, the size of a coffin. There was a strange red tint to my vision. I tried to scream but nothing came out. When I closed my mouth, I bit my own lip with a precise slice. Reaching up to touch my canines, I found sharp elongated incisors. Fangs?
What the unholy hell?
The taste of metallic blood slid against my tongue and something savage tore through me. Before I knew it, I had beaten the steel door off the coffin-sized enclosure with only my feet.
The need to cover up my naked breasts and pubic region was a fleeting wink of a thought as I gaped at the steel prison I’d just been in. The sharp sting of antiseptic overwhelmed my senses along with the reek of cold, decaying flesh. I wasn’t dying. I was already dead, a cold slab of meat in a morgue drawer up until a few minutes ago. The freezing cold penetrated to the marrow of my bones.
Emotion and panic swelled inside me only to be drowned out by hunger…for blood.
Oh god, I needed to drink, feed, gorge myself, or I was going to die.
Never mind that; I had clearly already died.
I streaked through the swinging doors, passing by a half-full mug of coffee. I could smell it, instantly discerning the coffee was cheap and that it had gone cold hours ago. I followed my sharpened senses, homing in on the target of my blinding thirst.
My heart didn’t beat, but something deep and primal drummed inside me, controlling me, driving me to a room where I ripped off the door to a refrigerator with little effort. I threw the rectangular slab of steel behind me, not caring about the tremendous crashing sound it made as it smashed into the cabinets along the wall. I had found my prize—clear bags full of red, life-giving liquid.
The need doubled down, gripping me so hard it almost brought me to my knees. Instead, I grabbed a bag and bit into it, sucking it dry like a dehydrated child with a juice pouch.
The blood was cold. I wanted it hot, fresh, full of flavor and slick texture, but I couldn’t wait. I drained the bag in seconds, then reached for another. I tore into a fifth and then a sixth bag of blood, then by the time I’d sucked two thirds of the hospital fridge dry, the drumming inside me abated. Despite the cool liquid, warmth spread out to my limbs. The crisis vibrating in my cells subsided. I didn’t feel like I was going to die anymore.
Looking down at my naked, blood-smeared body, the reality of the situation crystalized around me. My legs turned boneless and I slid to the floor. The drawers of the open fridge bit into my back, but I didn’t care.
What the hell was I?
Vampire, my subconscious whispered.
Who was I?
My mind drew a blank.
I was a woman, scratch that…a vampire who’d just gorged herself on blood, naked, in a hospital in the middle of the night. Despite there being no window, I instinctively knew it had been dark out for five hours. How did I know that?
My thoughts raced as I reached for more information—a name, a life, the faces of people I knew, anything. I came up empty.
A snout pushed the door open, interrupting my existential crisis. I was startled to meet the unerring gaze of a dog. It was sleek and black, but its narrow face and bushy tail reminded me of a fox. Its fur was an inky black and its eyes were golden, near luminescent. Across the room, it stretched its neck out toward me, sniffing the air. There was no collar or leash attached to the pooch.
Sure, a dog roaming free in a hospital. Why not?
Instinctively I lifted a hand, wanting to touch the soft fur and enjoy the vivid dream I was obviously caught up in. “Hello,” I said softly, finding my voice though my words came out hoarse.
When it tilted its head, regarding me, its face shifted for the briefest of moments. Instead of a furred face, I saw its canine skull. The dog’s lip peeled back, baring its teeth at me with a low growl.
I snatched my hand back, pressing it against my chest. Doggie-poo didnotlike me.
The growl deepened. The dog was going to attack.
Despite the danger, I couldn’t force myself to my feet. Maybe I should let it tear me apart, I mused, oddly disconnected from my body and the situation.
Then the dog was gone, turning the corner from which it came.
