Not him.

I cough and roll over as I hear the fight going on somewhere nearby. The rising sun blinds me, the clash of silver and diamond deafening me. The clean (ish) air rushes into my lungs, suddenly freezing my alveoli, making me splutter. No one notices as I scrabble to my hands and knees, crawling, trying to stand, trying to get away from the ear splitting noises. My senses were in over drive and the beast was tearing me apart again, merely subdued by the toxic gas.

Konrad was saying something to one of the new vampires, about turning me. I look in the vampire’s direction and try to talk. My vocal chords are shredded, but I can make vague guttural noises. It’s no use, no one can hear me, their argument is too loud. I finally get to my feet, unsteady, and stumble in Konrad’s direction. Still no one sees me; they’re too wrapped up in their own little arguments. I tap Konrad on the shoulder and he spins around to face me, nearly taking my head off, far too defensive for my liking. I open my mouth to talk, try to make some noise and give up. He takes my hand and puts it on his temple, keeping an eye on the others around us.

‘It’s not him!’ I tell him, projecting the thought at him. I send an image of the vampire that turned me, and his face twists unhappily. He got the wrong vampire. The hunt is still on.

The End

120 comments about this exercise Feed