An Hour and A Half Later...

Ever since Anne finished stitching her wound closed; the vampyr had spent a better portion of this time examining her stiches and made a note that the injury looked to be not even close to healing. This was odd since the cut she had on her finger from the tip of her fangs was gone; the fresh undead had even gone as far as to use a steak knife to stab herself and found the wound had sealed in no time flat. While she did not pretend to understand vampirism, the idea that something that was undead meant that while she not dead per se but not alive either. So why was her heart still beating?

“Ah, hsss,” the nosferatu grasped at her throat, the thirst had been getting stronger since her injury.

The sensation was an odd combination of hunger and thirst, but it was only getting stronger as time passed. While she was currently examining her body, Anne did not notice the stirring and the blinking of eyelids from the blonde woman lying away from her. The brunette’s new injury combined with the self-analyzing of her physiology had kept her from watching the change that had come upon once dying Grace. The vampyress would have noticed the tips of Grace’s ears morphing into a point while her canines sharpened and elongated. Anne Jones would have seen her beloved Grace joining her among the undead.

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Stirring upon the floor was the woman wavy, blonde hair that had come to the apartment occupant’s door a good time earlier. Eyes fluttered as the owner tried to sit up properly, slowly raising her right hand to her head as she tried to get a grip on herself. Finally, after having regained enough of her senses to take notice of her surroundings, the blonde pushed herself back onto her feet if not stumbling a little first.

Once on her legs, the new undead took her time to think through recent events while unconsciously moving her tongue around her mouth. For some reason she felt a strong sensation somewhere between hunger and thirst. It was growing stronger—and faster. Hoping to understand what was going on Grace looked about and remembered whose apartment she had come visit.

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Hearing the sounds of soft groans and then feet upon the floor, Anne stood up and looked about to find the origins of the new noises. Since sound was omnidirectional, it would have been impossible for her to pinpoint a direction. Then calming herself, the brunette decided on a new tactic, she turned to see behind her to find a wonderful sight. Standing on her feet again was the most beautiful woman that had ever been. Then after seeing her, the memory of what she had done to the love of her life and the guilt that came with it; it all hit the brown-haired vampyress like 30 tons of bricks.

“G-Grace?” asked Anne hopefully but was met with a woman whose once beautiful green eyes were a deep red.

And Grace’s pale ears had tapered to a point with the additional long, pointed teeth that seemed to extend over the lower lip of her ruddy lips. The blonde’s body language spoke of a severe uncomfortable sensation which through Anne’s own experience gave suspect to the same severe hunger pangs plaguing her right now. Now that the brown haired vampyr’s attention was no longer on her stitched up would, the thirst was back in full ****. No 1 knew how much guilt was weighing on the undead brunette’s heart at that moment. Grace did not deserve this new life although she did not quite know HOW the blonde had changed faster than her. Anne had used the telephone to check the date and found it exactly 3 full days since last time she remembered being awake. Never mind that Grace seemed to wake in just an hour or so.

Before either of them could say anything, more knocks were at the door; actually, they were more like hard bangs. Both females were now looking at the door before the blonde decided to walk up to answer it. Right when Grace’s hand was a centimeter from the knob, another ashen hand had grabbed her wrist. Turning her head, the blonde was looking at the gripping hand’s owner; although paler, it was still her dearest Anne.

“Don’t open it,” the brunette warned, then it occurred to her that she needed to give a reason why, “You’ve no idea who it is.”

“No!” the blonde snapped as she pulled her wrist free and began jabbing her finger at Anne’s chest, “I…I am going…to answer it,”

“But…,” Anne started.

“And then…we…,” Grace cut her ex off and waved her pointing index finger in the air as if to circle the other nosferatu’s face, then continued, “…are going to talk about this…vampire…shit you have going on.”

“But Grace…,” began the undead brunette.

What she could not understand was why her ex could not comprehend what was going on with them. Couldn't she feel the fangs in her mouth?

“No,” silenced her former partner and with a 1 continuous movement, grab, turn the knob, and swing open the door.

Both females looked out the doorway to see a disgruntled, bald man of 39 years wearing a bathrobe and white tee-shirt with a dadbod, standing just outside the threshold. Then neither of the new undead heard anything he said, but aside from the scent of beer he smelled delicious. Only everything that they did after the door was open was pure instinct.