When I opened the door to the room that contained the loudest rhythms, it didn't make a sound.
The next few moments were the best of my new vampire life. Blood and heat, life slipping into death, all flowing into me like a river I couldn't get enough of. I wasn't aware of who I was feeding on, only that I was quenching the hunger and need. It was the most blissful thing I could do. No longer did I care about the humans who had been my parents. They meant only one thing to me now: sustenance.
With my fangs deep in the human’s neck, something came to me. A warm hand touched my shoulder and a rhythm behind me beckoned. I abandoned the dead woman in my arms, letting her fall to the beige carpet next to the lifeless male. Both were already forgotten as I turned to face the human behind me.
The rhythm halted and the noises stopped. Not a single creak or chirp was heard. Every breath stopped as the world paused. This human…
He looked just like me!
I wasn’t sure how I knew that. The human memory of what I looked like had faded away, but I felt deep down, where my heart lay, I looked like him. Dark brown hair, fair skin, rosy cheeks and eyes as blue as the sky. He was skinny too, sinewy and lanky. His voice would be mine as well; we were identical. Or used to be.
He looked like a healthy human boy and I knew that I didn't. My skin had to be pale with a permanent sheen of death on it. Where my eyes still that blue?
A tormented look shone in his blue eyes. His fingers grazed my cheek like he was afraid I wasn’t real. Then he whispered one word and everything changed.
My brother said my name.
A weight slammed into me, crushing me with ugly realization. The humans behind me were more than blood. They had been my parents and I had murdered them. Worse than that, I had been planning murdering my brother as well. The thought ripped through me like a tornado. My eyes twitched and my throat tightened like I was going to cry. Tears never came; my eyes stayed dry and I whispered, “Danny, what have I done?”
“It's okay,” he said, instead of answering. He knelt in front of me, his eyes locked on mine and his hands on my shoulders. “It's okay,” he said my name again. “You're going to be okay. Just relax.”
“How?” I asked, unable to grasp the concept of relaxing. The idea of emotions felt foreign, like they no longer applied to me. My voice must have sounded void of emotions because my brother's face wavered and I heard whispers of his thoughts.
They say vampires stop caring. Has he already stopped caring about me?
I considered answering his thought, but said something else. “I can't stay here.”
“Why not?”
His eyes were still locked on mine. Humans should never look into a vampire's eyes. Thoughts whisper from behind the eyes, telling the vampire what the human is thinking, enabling the vampire to take control of those thoughts and bend the human’s will.
“You can't be seen with me,” I said, but I thought to myself, I'm terrified I'll kill you. I didn't want to scare him. He was acting so reserved; his voice didn’t tremble, his face was calm and there was no fear in his scent. Any other human would have panicked, started screaming, and the smell of their fear would have been like a drug I couldn’t resist.
Maybe he knew it was vital to stay calm. He knew that, as my twin, I wouldn't want to kill him, that I couldn't–which was why I stopped when he touched me. The horror I had felt about murdering my parents was fading. There would be no guilt over their deaths or for any of my victims to come. It is the reason that humans believe vampires have no feelings. They say we are cold and emotionless monsters.
That's a lie.
Love, hate or sorrow; a vampire still feels them. Our reactions are simply different, faster and often missed by humans. If I had harmed my brother that night, I knew I would have felt the emotions. Guilt and anger would have torn at me, demanding to know why I had hurt him.
“I don’t care who sees,” he said. “You can't leave me. We have to stick together.”
I shoved him away, my strength sending him flying across the room. He landed against a wooden dresser with a cry of pain. The sound tore at me, but I didn’t dare turn back. I dove out the window, landing on my feet and sprinting away. Behind me, I heard him yell my name, his voice filled with anguish.
“I have to leave,” I said as I ran, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear me. “Your brother is dead and there's only me now.”
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