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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2000979-Kindred-Souls
by Deswy
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Dark · #2000979
A creation from a recent writing prompt: Your new neighbor is a vampire.
Kindred Souls







    I had lived in this particular apartment complex for the better of five years; my job as a paramedic at Twin Rivers Medical Center allows me to sleep while most of the residents here are up and about.  I like the night shift, have always worked it … honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

    I woke early one evening and saw a moving van parked outside, men walking large items of furniture to the apartment directly across from me … apartment 112.  I had a few hours before my shift started, so I decided to go out to grab a bite to eat, and when I returned they were gone.  The apartment appeared vacant so I deduced my new neighbor had spent the night elsewhere.  I showered, dressed and left for work.

    The sun was just beginning to peak on the horizon when I returned home the following morning.  I was tired, and as usual went straight to bed.  I sincerely dislike the sun, and I thank modern technology for room darkening blinds; I have them on every window in my place.

    Dusk came quickly, and I rose rejuvenated.  Tonight was my night off, so I didn't have to watch the clock.  I went out to dine, as usual, and when I returned saw that my new neighbor had the door open.  I couldn't resist the temptation to introduce myself. 

    “Hello?”  I knocked at the doorway, not wanting to enter without permission.  A moment later he strode into the kitchen … with a surprised look on his face.

    “Hello back.  To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit,”  He cocked his head ever so slightly as he smiled.  “Name's Dimitri.”

    I shook his hand, noticing his firm grip.  “I'm Raven.  I live across from you.”  I turned and gestured towards my apartment.  I can't deny I was taken by his appearance: He stood at about six-feet-two, hair as dark as mine, eyes as blue as the Aegean Sea, framed by a handsome face with high cheekbones.  His body … well, let's just say I'd hoped I didn't noticeably drool.  An artist could paint him as Adonis.

    I caught him staring at me, with a silly grin reminiscent of those of boys who did not know how to react when asking a girl on a date.  I chuckled silently to myself.

    “Would you like to come in?”  He motioned  toward that kitchen with a graceful gesture, and I walked past him, slowly, rubbing against him ever so slightly.

    “Raven, you say?  Do you have a last name?” 

    “It's Fournier.  Why?”  He led me towards his living room, and then motioned for me to make myself comfortable.  I sank into the plush love seat …. oh, this was heaven.

    “Would you care for a refreshment? Wine, perhaps?”

    “No … no, thank you; I don't … drink … wine; I'm good.”  I looked around.  He had a nice layout, large screen television, expensive stereo set (complete with a turntable and … get this ...vinyl LP's. 

    “Music perhaps?”  At this I nodded.  “What kind do you listen to?”

    I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “Oh, I have eclectic taste …. classical, opera, Rock 'n Roll, Trance …..”

    He gave a pleased nod, and chose Chopin.  Nice.  A man with taste, a man with class … and obviously unattached.  Very nice indeed.

    We talked and laughed for hours, literally almost until dawn.  I think he was as taken with me as I was with him.  Finally, noticing the time, I stood up and excused myself, explaining that I think we both needed some sleep.  He told me he didn't want me to leave, but I insisted.  I felt his eyes follow me as I walked back to my place, and as I turned the key and opened my door I turned, and blew him a kiss.  He raised his arms to his chest as if to embrace it and closed his door.

    The day passed quickly, and I woke up, dressed, and, as normal, went out for a bite.  I looked at his apartment as I walked past, and thought I saw him glimpsing at me through his blinds.  It was only a few blocks before I hit the downtown area.  I normally hunt this area, picking off those that would never be missed: vagrants, addicts, drunks.  It wasn't long before I spotted my prey, and I took him quickly, easily.  I never kill … it creates a problem, hiding the body, avoiding the Law; I've learned how to avoid that, just taking enough to quench my hunger, running my saliva across the wound I created to heal it, and erasing my donor's memory of the attack.

    I returned just in time to dress and go to work.  It's funny how blood and guts don't stir up the Hunger in me;  I don't know if it's conditioning, but as long as I'd had my fill before I begin my shift I'm good to go.

    I have an arrangement with my boss to start my shift ninety minutes earlier than the other paramedics so I can leave before sunrise.  I gave the explanation that I suffered from a genetic disease that was hypersensitive to sunlight … but my “disease” isn't genetic at all; I've been a vampire for about three hundred years, give or take.

    I returned to the apartment complex well before dawn and was surprised to see Dimitri's tall, slender frame leaning against the wall of my living quarters.  He was smiling.

    “I followed you last night”, he said.  I was shocked, slightly annoyed.  He followed me.  He saw me hunt.  How was I going to explain this?  Was he going to turn me in to the authorities?  That would be my death sentence.  Stupid, stupid girl ….

    “Don't worry.  I'm like you.”  He raised his fingers to my chin and  lifted it ever so slightly, and planted a soft kiss on my lips, then sighed and continued, “I'm relieved, actually.  I was wondering how I was going to woo you, seduce you, and keep you all to myself without exposing my secret, that I'm a monster.”

    I smiled back at him.  I had a feeling, the night we first met, that he was a kindred soul.  I, too, had wondered the same thing he had.

    I kissed him back, and invited him in.

 
© Copyright 2014 Deswy (deswy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2000979-Kindred-Souls