The Victim Wasting Away

A backstory explaining Charlotte and minute vampire oddities. Sequel to "The Victim Who Tangoed."

Charlotte posed before her full-length mirror, one hand on her hip and the other tousling her short hair.  She squinted at her reflection, scrutinizing her updated look:  red streaks through her dark hair, golden contacts to make her eyes stand out even more beneath the dark eyeliner, and her fashionably torn clothes had been traded for mesh and tight pants with numerous buckles.

            “Oh, yes,” she murmured, tossing her head.  “I still got it.”

            Of course, she’d “had it” for over forty years now.  That didn’t make it any less gratifying when she found a new look she could work with.

            Unfortunately, there was only so much she could actually do.  Charlotte frowned down at her fingernails.  They were the main reason she and her lover dressed so darkly.  Black and glossy, like freshly painted nails from a salon . . . only they weren’t painted.  The color was natural, in both her feet and toes, and had only occurred in the last ten years.

            But Preston said that was normal.  “It’s like when humans hid their mid-thirties,” he had told her when she first realized what was happening.  She had been hysterical and he’d hardly done anything but give her nails a cursory glance and step back.  “Humans’ bodies deteriorate.  Ours can’t.  But the nails and hair are already pretty much dead.”

            “I’m rotting?” Charlotte had demanded shrilly.

            “Basically,” Preston had said, unperturbed.

            Charlotte had thrust her hands away, disgusted and horrified.  “But they’re getting thicker!  It’s disgusting!”

            Preston had smirked and held up his own hands, wiggling his fingers mockingly.  “Naturally.”

            Back then Charlotte had given him a dirty look.  She had fallen for him at first sight, glamorously dead looks and all.  But that hadn’t been her style.  She had preferred to be more chic.  Full, swirling skirts and slinky sexy tops were just coming into style and pretty pink nails were considered classy for young adults.

            “What about my hair?” she’d demanded.  “Is that going to rot and fall out, too?”

            Preston had snorted.  “Your nails won’t fall out.  And no, neither will your hair.”  He’d waited until she sighed in relief before adding, “It will go white, though.  Probably within the next two years, actually.”

            Charlotte vaguely remembered the blur of panic and screaming that had taken place then.  And Preston had been right.  Her hair had turned shockingly white to match her deathly complexion and her nails thick and sickeningly dark.

            But time was on her side.  She turned her head at her reflection again, admiring her dye job.  Not a single white strand showed.  Even her nails were constantly buffed and shined so they looked painted rather than disgusting.  Time had thrown her and Preston a fashion they could easily blend into.

            Well, they had done their best, anyway.  Blending in was hard when you were so attractive.  Charlotte poked at her teeth with her tongue, enjoying the thrill that tingled though her jaw as her canines elongated and poked at her lower lip.  Sometimes the movies had it right, she thought with satisfaction.  Sometimes a vampire could be just damn hot.

            I may be rotting, she thought, cupping her breasts through her shirt.  She squeezed them together, admiring the deep cleavage.  But these never changed.

            In fact, but for her nails and hair, her body remained the same.  Preston had once told her horror stories of vampires who didn’t age like them; vampires who wasted away like a human, becoming the literal walking dead.  Charlotte had never seen them, but if she were to believe those stories were true, she could only be grateful that she wasn’t one of them.

            Or Preston.  He was her life (pun intended).  She couldn’t imagine having gone on to live like a typical human.  She had grown up in the time where her only options were to become a rebel, outcast by the dominantly male society, or a housewife ready to drop babies any time her husband didn’t feel like being safe with her.

            The callous hands on her shoulders startled her.  Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow at her lover.  “Speak of the devil,” she commented.  “I was just thinking of you.”

            Preston wasn’t looking at her.  Instead he peered at her reflection.  “Must be nice,” he said.

            “What?”

            “Seeing your reflection.”

            Pouting, Charlotte turned away from the mirror and tilted her head back to look at him.  “It’s not my fault,” she said.  “You said you don’t even know why you can’t see yourself.”

            Preston smiled without humor.  “Maybe I have no soul.”

            “Neither do I,” she objected.

            “More so than me, apparently.”  Before she could protest he grasped her arms and yanked her close, kissing her full on the mouth.  Charlotte eagerly responded, nipping at him with her still-sharp teeth.  Just as quickly he pushed her away, back into the mirror.  He turned on his heel and started for the door.  “When you’re ready, let me know.”

            Totally unfair, decided Charlotte.  She didn’t know why vampires had different degradations or abilities any better than he did.  Some wasted away like zombies; some could see their own reflections.  Some had to wear shades in the sunlight, while others couldn’t drink blood; they had to take life essences, making them psychic vampires.  Each had his unique weakness; all had various strengths.

            But tonight, she would be playing her strengths.  Tonight was a night for fresh blood.

            She tossed a look into the corner of the room, smiling at the dazed figure slumped against the wall.  He stared without actually seeing her.  Even when she crouched in front of him and turned his head to the side, brushing light brown hair from his bruised neck, he didn’t even blink.

            “I know you miss home when you’re lucid,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his throat.  “But your blood is the best trip ever.”

            When she bit he finally made a sound, gasping and arching into her, then sliding back against the wall and closing his eyes with a small moan.

            When she finished Charlotte felt heady.  She licked her lips and hoped she hadn’t taken too much.  She only needed a slight buzz to loosen her up at the moment.

            “It’s okay,” she cooed, hugging his head to her breasts.  She kissed his hair, barely taking notice of the tiny smears of blood it left.  “It’s okay,” she repeated.  “We’ll never be able to replace you.”

Author's Note

The ending makes better sense if you've read "The Victim Who Tangoed." Critiques are always welcome.

Reviews

[Flow]

Vampme Contest: I haven't read The Victim who Tangoed, however I did this contest to see a different side of vampires and I loved this one. It took a look at everyday life or everynight life for a vamp. I like the little twists like how they can age differently have different things happen to them. It is random and makes it more interesting. Watching her deal with her nails and worry about her hair was unique. Nicely done~

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

Mmm-hmm, this is a fantastic sequel and I really like it. Preston and Charlotte are two totally awesome characters. Great work!!!

Heather

[Susan S.]

This is not only a different take on vampires, it's a better one altogether! The logic you use is great, and dead on. (pun intended). Why risk getting caught when you can keep the tasty one on tap? Why are all vampires exactly the same, they aren't in real life. Why create a vampire then wander off; wouldn't the reason they went to that trouble be to have a mate? The rotting fingernails and hair? Genius!

Sorry I can't come up with much of a critique here. I didn't find anything particularly wrong. My nit is that white hair on young girls is quite chic. Just adding a wild streak would take less work and be just as "in".

Good luck in the contest.
Susan