Chapter 1: Embrace

May 23rd, 2004. Santa Monica, California. 9:15 PM.

"You know, when people walk in here, they're often too freaked out to stay."

I looked up from my book to see a woman had said that to me. Other than her and I, there was only the ghoulish-looking cashier who was staring at a television that seemed to be playing Betty Boop. The woman that had straddled the line between "goth" and "nerdy". Her hair was straight and black, her bangs parting at her forehead and the length falling down to her shoulders. Her dress was somewhere between gypsy and witchy, clad in a burgundy sundress that parted at her midriff, leaving her pierced belly button exposed. She had on a necklace with a weird symbol on it, something like a neopagan sigil, or a rune.

She looked mousy, but not in a bad way. Her features kind of reminded me of Velma from Scooby Doo: angular yet soft, not plain and very pretty in her own right, but not exactly in the way that you'd expect from a girl in California. She wasn't a movie star, she was more like a girl next door. If anything, that made her more interesting in my book. Too many airheads in town were only their looks, but I could see a strange intelligence in her eyes. It was as if she could look right through me.

I realized I was standing.

"U-Um...yeah! I was never easily spooked." I said quickly, embarrassed that I was stammering.

The woman chuckled. It was a musical, airy sound. "You don't look like the type that'd be here, though."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

She pursed her lips, her eyes scanning me. Yet again, I got the sense that she was looking through me, as opposed to at me.

"Well," She said. "For one, your hair is naturally black, and it isn't some bad dye job."

I laughed at that.

"And…" She continued. "No excess of black. You look like an artist, actually. Let me guess...photographer? No. Writer."

I raised my eyebrows. "Guilty as charged. You a mind reader?"

"No, I just like watching people."

"Same here, actually. I watch people so I can better write them. It makes it easier to describe mannerisms and the like. Features. The little things?"

She tilted her head and smiled. "Yeah? How would you describe my features?"

I rubbed my chin, feeling my stubble and squinting at her slightly. "Well...let's see...you give off a bit of a goth vibe. But not industrial goth...more traditionally goth. Witchy, even. Angular features...sharp chin, high cheekbones. Almost classically pretty."

"So you think I'm pretty." She said, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckled. "That's what I said, didn't I?"

"A writer and a flirt. So far you're quite a step above the usual guy that walks in here."

"The usual guy?"

Just then, I heard a bell ringing as two people came in. Both were male, and both, I had been pretty sure, were wearing white foundation, which somehow made them even paler than the girl I was talking to, who was about as pale as a corpse herself. Their hair was dyed asphalt black and had been styled into spikes, and their faces had enough piercings to set off a metal detector.

"That is the usual guy." The woman said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Only a step above the likes of him? You wound me."

She smiled. "I'm Justine."

"Algernon." I said. "Want to get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Justine said.

Of course, what I meant by "out of here" was, "to my apartment". It seemed she'd gotten the memo rather quickly. The moment we'd gotten into the taxi, we were making out in the back seat. Something was different from her, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. Was it the raw and overwhelming passion that engulfed me when she kissed me? Was it her hypnotic green eyes, or the conviction with which she spoke? I don't know exactly what it was that gave me such a deep, lizard-brain level attraction to this woman. All I knew was that it was enough to get me to do things I'd never do normally, like pick up a random girl at a bookstore.

Once I had her in my hotel room, I dropped the thin veneer of control that I'd put up. I pressed my lips to hers in a hungry, fiery dance and she replied with just as much passion. With surprising strength, she tore open my shirt, but I didn't care. I didn't even care when she pushed me onto the bed with the strength of a guy that would be twice her size. Indeed, before I could care, she was on top of me. We kissed, our tongues doing something between dancing together and fighting for dominance.

Then she parted from me, whispering in my ear, "Let me show you something."

Her voice sent shivers down my spine. I happily complied as she pushed my head to the side. I assumed she was going to kiss my neck.

That isn't what she did.

That isn't what she did at all.

There was a sharp, painful sensation that made me tense up and scream. And then there was pure bliss. That's the best way I could describe it. It was a pure, all-encompassing ecstasy that paralyzed me, better than any orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life. I lost all track of time, feeling my vision blur and my control of my limbs slip. I had relaxed at this point, and I couldn't make it stop. I didn't want to make it stop. I pursued the feeling like an addict going after his fix. And as I pursued the feeling, I felt myself slip more and more.

Soon, I felt cold. I realized my breathing had gone shallow. My vision had blurred to the point where I couldn't see anything. I was dying, I realized, but I didn't care. The bliss was too overwhelming, clouding my every thought. It ignited my ever cell until they fizzled out and died. I was only marginally aware of Justine's presence, her fangs lodged into my flesh as crimson spilled from my neck. Was that my blood? Was she drinking my blood…?

Couldn't think. Pain was gone. Breathing grew even more and more shallow, until I wasn't breathing anymore. I felt my heart stop and grow cold. I felt my limbs go dead...and then I felt nothing.

It was funny. I always thought that I'd die in some horribly tragic way, like a car crash or an assassin sent by a hypothetical ex-wife. I didn't know some goth chick I'd picked up from an independent bookstore was going to bite in my neck and, well, drink me to death. I also underestimated how long my thoughts would be running. How long had I been out? The entire world must've gone black at least ten or fifteen minutes ago. Was this the afterlife? Just an endless, formless blackness with nothing but my thoughts?

God, just send me to Hell instead. I thought to myself.

Then, another feeling came to me. Pure ecstasy, but instead of the numbing, narcotic feeling of before, it was a jolt, a burst of energy through my cold body. It was like an orgasm, only a thousand times as powerful and a hundred times shorter. I bolted up and saw that I was now alone in my bed. I'd been dressed again in my black tee shirt and jeans. I looked around and saw Justine sitting on the loveseat across from my bed, now significantly more dressed than she was minutes ago. One of her legs were crossed over the other, and she looked at me with an unreadable expression. It was strange; with how pale she was, one could easily mistake her for a posed corpse, or a statue.

I felt strange, as if I'd just taken a dip in cold water and was now completely numb. I felt the clothes on my skin, but I didn't feel the temperature in the room. And I sensed...everything. I could hear a couple whispering to each other outside. I could smell cigarette smoke coming from the apartment across the hall. I could taste...was that copper? No. It was blood, specifically. But it had an array of other tastes, everything from wine to chocolate. How was that possible? The strangest feeling of all, however, was a deep growling within me. It was a hunger, and if I focused on it, it became more intense. What was that? What happened to me?

"Whatever it is we did…" I mumbled. "It must've been some good shit."

"About that…" Justine said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. "I've got good news. Or bad news. It depends on your perspective, really."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The woman from the bookstore sighed. "Well-"

Before she could say anything at all, my door was kicked open. I saw two guys I didn't recognize barge in, both holding honest-to-god wooden stakes. Before I could even question them, one of them threw the stake at Justine, sticking her right in the heart. I tried to get up to defend myself, but the other guy quickly stabbed me in the heart after that. My body went limp, and for the second time that night, everything went dark.

"Good evening."

The sound of a voice brought me back from the blackness. When my eyes opened, I found myself on the stage of the theater in Downtown, bound with chains and gagged on my knees. Next to me a couple of feet over was Justine, and she was in exactly the same position, except there was another guy behind her holding her down. Between us was some massive Magilla Gorilla-looking man, holding - I swear to God - a Final Fantasy-esque buster sword. Standing in front of us was some pale, rich-looking guy wearing a black suit and tie, his blonde hair neatly combed over. He'd been the one talking, speaking to a crowd full of people I'd never seen before, as if he were a senator that was filibustering.

"My fellow Kindred," He continued, "my apologies for interfering in any business, or any prior engagements you may have had this evening. It's unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together here tonight is a troubling one. We are here because the laws that bind our society, the laws that are the fabric of our existence have been broken. As Prince, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring.

"Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests; however, the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission. Indeed, my permission was never sought at all. They were caught shortly after the embrace of this childe."

All gazes in the room turned to me.

"It pains me to announce this sentence as, up until tonight, I'd considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization." The guy in the suit continued. "But as some of you may know, the penalty for this transgression...is death. Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant to the law that governs us all.

"Let tonight's proceedings serve as a reminder to our community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood."

He turned and crouched down to Justine, whispering, "Forgive me."

Then he stood and turned back to the crowd, saying, "Let the penalty commence."

The guy holding Justine down pushed her forward, that way her neck was sticking out and she was forced to look down. The gorilla man grabbed the shaft of his sword and unsheathed it from its massive scabbard, placing the blade on her neck like an executioner. The theater was dead silent as, in a fluid, fell swoop, the blade cut through Justine's neck like butter. Instead of Justine's body doing what a normal corpse does - that is, fall down like a ragdoll - her flesh turned to ash right before my very eyes, leaving nothing but a blackened skeleton.

And that set off the gibbering monkey in my brain. I began to scream, but the gag muffled any noise I'd made. I tried to squirm, to escape, but the same guy that stabbed me in my heart in the apartment held me down with strength he frankly had no business having. I saw some people in the crowd looking back, as if the beheading of my one-night stand disturbed them. It was funny, considering they're the ones that put her on a blatantly unfair trial.

Despite my panicked noises, the guy in the suit continued, "Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny. Without a sire, most childer are doomed to walk the earth never knowing their place, their responsibility...and most importantly, the laws they must obey. Therefore, I have decided that-"

"This is bullshit!" A voice cried out from the audience, making the theater erupt into murmurs. I saw a man standing from his seat, his sneer large enough to be visible from several yards away and his eyes glaring daggers at the man in the suit. Two thuggish-looking people were holding him back, one a smaller girl with bright red hair and the other a tall, bald black guy that could frankly give Magilla Gorilla a run for his money.

More people stood up as the audience's murmurs grew louder, becoming complaints and heckles. Many took his side. I was just wondering what the hell was going on.

The man in the suit waited for everyone to quiet down. His expression was annoyed, as if someone had just stepped on his thousand dollar leather shoes. "...If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish, I have decided to let this kindred live."

With that, the guy that was holding me down released me from my chains, but he didn't ungag me. That probably had something to do with my screaming, which had quieted down due to how raw my throat now felt. Once I was fully quiet, he ungagged me.

"He shall be instructed on the ways of our kind and be granted the same rights." The suit-clad man said, though he didn't exactly sound happy about what he was saying. "Let no one say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community. I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I hope their significance is not lost…good evening."