Vampires Never Get Old - Zoraida Cordova Page 0,70
sent people out of the desert that year, not into it.
I was eight the first time my parents led me down the stairs of our home to feed. I don’t remember what state we were in. No matter. It was some nondescript place, in the middle of nowhere, in the heart of nothing.
I never knew who he was. But I remember him. I heard him whimpering. His hair like straw, matted against his forehead, his eyes wide as we descended, the way he tore at his restraints over and over again, ripping his wrists with new wounds, and then I smelled him. I smelled the fresh life spilling from where he’d rubbed himself raw.
And suddenly, I knew there had always been someone in our basement. My parents used to bring fresh blood to me in a ceramic bowl, and it was always warm. I put it together that first time: It was warm because it had just been drained from the body.
But that night, Papi pushed me toward the man. “Estás listo,” he told me. “Tómalo.”
Mami clutched my hand tightly. Then she released me.
Instinct took over. I plunged forward, and it was like I knew exactly where to bite, where on this man’s body would provide the most blood in the least amount of time. My mouth clamped down on his leg, right on his femoral, and his warmth, his life, filled me up.
He fought.
It was futile.
He finally went lifeless beneath me. When I looked up at Mami y Papi, the man’s blood dribbling down my chin, they gave me pride. Happiness. Joy.
“Lo hiciste,” Mami said. “This is just the start, Cisco.”
“Soon you’ll come with us,” added Papi. “Outside. To hunt.”
I wanted to run away from that cellar right then, despite being full, despite not needing to feed. The urge nearly overpowered me.
It’s been nine years. That urge hasn’t gone away.
This isn’t a joke. Or some weird cry for attention.
I’m going to leave.
I’m going to find a way out.
NoOneKissesLikeGaston: You don’t really kill people. You’re probably just saying this to seem tough.
TrueAnneRiceFan: Yo, he’s a vampire. What did you expect?
NoOneKissesLikeGaston: You don’t really know him like I do. I’ve been following this since the beginning.
1,285 Notes
invisibleb0y
July 20, 2018
This is it.
This is the last time you’ll hear from me.
I crept out of the house just after three. I told Papi y Mami that I was going back to the lake for a few minutes before the sun came up. Papi made some terrible joke about how I was spending a lot of time there. I laughed but said nothing. I saw Mami exchange a look with him.
It filled me with dread.
Did they know?
I wasn’t far from the house when I started to run, when I heard my name called behind me, when I knew they suspected that I had been lying. I ran faster than I thought possible, exhaustion pushing through my bones, begging me to stop, begging to feed. I began to sense other creatures, to feel their pulses as I rushed past, but I ignored them.
“Cisco!”
I couldn’t stop.
“Cisco, ¡espera!”
I couldn’t wait anymore.
“Cisco, please!”
I was done being protected.
I skidded to a stop at the edge of the water.
“Kwan, I’m here!”
Seconds later, my parents stumbled, fell into defensive positions.
There.
On the other side of the lake: Kwan.
“Cisco…,” he growled. My name in his mouth was raw with possibility. Was he warning me? Beckoning to me?
“I’m here,” I said. “Take me with you.”
“No!” Mami yelled. “You’re not going anywhere!”
She reached out to grab my arm, but I flinched away from her, watched as disappointment and shock spread over her face.
“Please, Cisco,” said Papi. “No puedes salir. We can’t protect you if you do.”
“We can.”
Kwan was at my side. He placed his fingers in between mine, and he sent a shiver up my arm, into my whole body. His power caressed me, coursed through me, gave me strength. How? I thought. How is this possible?
“You’re not alone,” Kwan told me, then looked to my parents. “There are more of us, just like me, born like Cisco, and we have survived.”
They stepped out from behind the trees and bushes that surrounded the oasis. Five. Ten. Twenty. So many kids, all of them moving with the caution of those who know they can be hunted just as easily as they hunt others. They were tall. Short. I made eye contact with a girl whose skin was darker than mine, her hair braided tight against her head, and she nodded so slightly it was almost imperceptible.