A Bloody and Broken Destiny (Slow Updates)

chapter eight: unstable normalcy

Diana’s POV

It had been a few days, but it felt like an eternity with this new constant hunger showing up every 5-8 hours. sometimes more often, sometimes less. but it was always there and I was so, so very thirsty sometimes.

My parents had to bring me blood bags now, my tablets seemed to have less of an effect on my thirst, and fresh blood now was the only thing to fully control it and have me feeling normal again, which I very much resented the need to consume blood.

I was still coping with the knowledge of being a vampire, I spent a good few hours trying to disprove it still but I guess being in my own space I finally got around to accepting this new reality of me and my life.

I was a vampire, a powerful one apparently.

Vampires existed.

Werewolves existed.

Witches existed.

The supernatural world was real and hiding in plain sight and I was part of it this whole time, I mean that explained why I was so different, I was adopted, I was a born vampire.

I didn’t know what that meant honestly for me, a quick Google search told me born vampires or ‘pureblood vampires’ were stronger then turned ones and had some different abilities. That brought me only more questions, how did I end up in Human hands, why did they seem so calm about me being a vampire, why was I given up, or did my parents die? Why was everything so much more complicated than I knew.

I thought I had a better understanding of myself, I worked so hard to understand and I spent years researching logical reasoning, but it was all for nothing if some spooky book could have told me years ago.

I honestly tried to not let it bother me all too much, I was going to find a way to fix myself, there had to be a way to suppress or remove this…bloodlust in me, I felt like a danger to everyone around me and I couldn’t live with that guilt.

I couldn’t bring myself to go back to work in the hospital the first couple days, too afraid I’d hurt one of my patients, I couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting someone in my care, I took an oath and I planned to uphold it. I refused to hurt anyone, good or bad. I didn't want to cause harm, especially now when apparently my existence relied on feeding on others, I would not let that part of me ruin everything I had worked so hard for.

But after my parents were short staffed with a day's work and one of our regulars, a dare devil stunt double, showing up with a pretty nasty accident after falling off a motorcycle on his way to work. I decided to go in, I had treated him before and I couldn’t leave them short staffed.

It had gone surprisingly well, as long as I fed enough to keep my thirst settled I could continue my life as normal, that at least made me feel better.

It gave me a distraction, and god knows I needed it.

The nightmares started my second night at home. I found it hard to sleep or eat, my motivation was erratic and in small amounts, feeding made me feel sick and normal food was so hard to stomach.

I found it hard to cheer myself up, normally I’d drown in my studies but I found it hard, And it brought me little joy compared to what it used to. I didn’t go out much anymore, I became more isolated and withdrawn, a part of me was still scared I’d attack my parents so I kept them at arm's length.

They were worried and I could tell, but there was nothing they could do to make me feel better, and being the overprotective people they were they ordered tests and examinations in private to make sure I was ok, I wasn’t and it was hard to hide that from parents who work in the medical field.