Rip Tide: A Twilight Fanfiction

Chapter Ten: Bad Blood

Guilt perched on my shoulder like a hideous ghoul, whispering cruel things into my ear. It whispered contemptuous reminders of the death and hardship my actions caused. There I stood, enjoying the luxury of a steaming hot shower in the home of a deceased widower.

The blood Rajah fed me while I was unconscious had adverse effects. I could feel thirst burning my throat, like I swallowed red hot coal. The vampire side of me which I rejected and suppressed my entire life threatened to emerge, uninhibited. No, I told myself, that couldn't happen. Blood lust might drive me to become something worse than Mason.

With that depressing thought haunting me, I grabbed the towel I draped on the hook near the shower. Earlier, I stuck it in the dryer for a good half-hour, along with a few dryer-sheets; the aroma of pine masked the stench of cigarettes and beer.

After drying off, I wrapped the towel around my head to soak up some of the water from my hair. I reached for the clean shirt I found in Robert's closet. He had been a large man, and a bit wide around the waist from all the beer he consumed; his clothes would swallow me. The shirt must have belonged to his late wife; a light, earthy perfume scent clung to the fabric. She had been significantly taller than me, with a fuller figure, to the shirt functioned more like a dress on my petite form. It was a beige, cotton fabric embroidered with simple but lovely designs.

"Thanks for your hospitality," I said out of respect for Robert and his wife, as if they were standing beside me. Even if they couldn't hear me from the beyond, it felt better to say it.

Everything I touched was returned to its rightful place before I left the bathroom. Warmth battled against the late autumn chill and strong winds. Rajah must have replaced the firewood.

When I emerged from the hallway into the den, I saw the irksome vampire standing in front of the fireplace. He was staring into the flames with a detached expression. Odd, considering how flippant and chipper he seemed before. Something was troubling him. Don't know, don't care, I told myself as I still held a grudge for the whole blood thing.

Without saying a word to him, I moved into the cramped area designated as the kitchen. Peeking in the fridge, I hoped to find something remotely edible. There was an entire case of beer perched on the shelf, but not a single morsel that could satisfy a growling stomach. When I made the grave mistake of checking the bottom drawer, my stomach churned at the sight of blood transfusion packs.

The temptation had my throat burning, but I refused to indulge it. Resuming my search for human food, I checked the freezer. There were processed and packaged dinners stacked beside a couple gallons of freezer-burnt ice cream. In the cupboards, there was nothing but stale cereal and canned peas with faded, peeling labels. Well, frozen dinner it is.

I felt guilty for stealing Robert's food. It wasn't right to take advantage, while he was dead and buried outside. But the growling of my stomach drowned out my conscience; it would all go to waste, anyway. And so, I placed a frozen package of chicken breast and mashed potatoes into the microwave. As soon as the timer beeped, I tore right in without bothering to sit down. The bland potatoes and rubbery chicken scalded my tongue, but I didn't care to taste it. I just wanted to shut my stomach up.

When I was finished scarfing down the sad meal, I grabbed a beer from the fridge. The stuff was probably the most revolting thing I had ever tasted, but I emptied the can in a few gulps. It was the only way to fend off the ever-persistent thirst for blood. After that, I stood beside the window, staring out into the storm.

Rajah entered the kitchen at a leisurely pace, moving to stand beside the window with me.

"Magnificent, isn't it? Vampires like to think they are the most powerful things in the world, but that's not true. Mother nature is a force far superior to us."