Back In Time

Chapter 10: In Which I Get My Death Stare On

I decided to stay in the bed, securely bundled up against any sneak attacks to ravage me that Eric might be planning, while we waited for Godric to get back. Though, to be fair, the Potential Sneak Attacker appeared to be completely oblivious to my presence since our brief exchange regarding his Maker's plans. After my own words rolled off his tongue and blew a raspberry in my face, I had attempted a death stare that would've made Pam proud. According to her, she had once doled out a Number Six (at some point in the past, she had gone through her arsenal and numbered her stares after becoming briefly enamoured with Coco Chanel) to a girl who had subsequently dropped dead. While Eric remained adamant that Pam's 'victim' had suffered an aneurysm, Pam was convinced that she only needed to recreate the circumstances exactly in order to achieve success once again. Unfortunately, she hadn't quite been able to do so, though she swears she nearly dispatched me once when I had particularly annoyed her at Fangtasia. I can't remember the exact occasion but I was there with Bill and, looking back, I supposed I was pretty effin' annoying during that phase of my life.

Anyway, I tried to kill Eric via eye-wave for a few minutes. He had gone into the front room after he got dressed and even though I tried squinting, bugging out my eyes, and even crossing them briefly, no dice. He was clearly unaffected as he sat casually in one of the chairs reading a book, oblivious to the potential threat. So, I gave up, crossing my arms behind my head as I laid back on the pillow.

I stared up at the ceiling, thinking over the things I knew regarding my situation (which were pitifully few).

Number one, I had apparently picked the wrong patch of dirt and got sucked back into time approximately 500 years.

Number two, the exact time and place I came out in happened to be inhabited by Eric and Godric. That had to mean something.

Number three, I was getting really confused with my feelings for Eric and, if I were totally honest with myself, Godric as well. With Eric, it was so hard to remember that he wasn't evolved into the man I loved just yet. Even though he was in the same gorgeous package and had a lot of the same charm, he wasn't mine.

With Godric, I didn't know what to think. I had felt a definite connection to him in the future. I'd been deeply moved when he saved me from the would-be rapist and was overcome with emotion when he met the sun, though I'd only known him a matter of days at the time. Meeting him now, I felt the same connection and also a strange attraction. I wondered if it was because of Eric, because they were so close and how Eric had idolized Godric. I didn't think so, though.

Godric was a mystery to me and it was hard to match the caring person I would know to the monster that Eric had described; although when he told me the stories, he spoke reverently and with clear admiration - monster was my take on it at the time. To get both or even either of those personas to match the man I'd met the night before was impossible. It was very frustrating. It was also intriguing and really effin' creepy. I could not be getting the hots for my future boyfriend's double-dead Maker. Way too weird.

Another thing I'd realized was that the change in my circumstances had prompted me to decide on a new career path. Henceforth, I would be known as Sookie Stackhouse, Vigilante. Yes, that's right. I was going to singlehandedly destroy the practice of prostitution and all those affiliated with the dastardly profession. Hookers the world over would quake at the mere mention of my name. Starting with old What's Her Face from The Little Rose. As I sat back picturing myself dispatching ho's ninja-style, I heard someone accessing the tunnel.

Since Eric seemed unperturbed, I knew it had to be Godric and whoever he'd brought for dinner. I get how gross that sounds, but it definitely falls under my 'Things That I Can't Help' umbrella. I was curious about his selection and how many people he'd brought. I, for one, had to feed every night. I was still far too young to skip a meal just yet. Eric would certainly be able to go without eating for at least a day or two. It may be uncomfortable for him, but not impossible. Godric, of course, could probably eat once a week or even more infrequently and still be fine. He was somewhere around fifteen hundred years old, after all.