To Turn or Not to Turn

Above the door of the building read, in black letter, THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE. Picketers were there, shouting to her and saying she should go back to her coffin. She went inside. It was dim. The vampires turned towards Millie. She noticed that the crowd was mostly male, felt a bit intimidated.

"Bon soir," said a tall vampire. He sniffed the air and his pupils faded in with his irises.

"You're a mortal. Turning?"

She nodded.

The vampire offered his hand, which Millie daintily took. He led her through the haze; she noticed the crimson liquid that filled everyone's glasses. She gulped.

"I'm Seth," by the way," he said.

"Millie."

They came to a red door. Seth knocked, found no one inside, and led her in. The room was bare and light inside the room was red.

"Before we do this," Seth said, now serious, "I need to know that you really, really do want to do this. Remember, you'll never experience hunger for anything but blood again. No cheeseburgers, no pizza, etc. Understand?"

Millie nodded, but her stomach rumbled.

"Your body won't show up anymore. No reflections, no photos, not even paintings. Understand?"

She nodded again, but recalled that she'd looked in the mirror several times in the past few days.

"But nothing's as bad as the social isolation you'll feel. Even with vampires, you'll constantly have to prove your worth to everyone."

"No!" Millie blurted out. She began to cry a little.

"You see? It's not for everyone."

"I think I'd better go," she said, feeling nauseous. The vampire nodded, and she went out of the room and towards the exit as everyone watched her lustfully.

After leaving the club proper, she was surprised by a man.

"Bloodsucker!" he shouted, and plunged a stake into her mortal heart.

Above the door of the building read, in black letter, THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE. Picketers were there, shouting to her and saying she should go back to her coffin. She went inside. It was dim. The vampires turned towards Millie. She noticed that the crowd was mostly male, felt a bit intimidated.

"Bon soir," said a tall vampire. He sniffed the air and his pupils faded in with his irises.

"You're a mortal. Turning?"

She nodded.

The vampire offered his hand, which Millie daintily took. He led her through the haze; she noticed the crimson liquid that filled everyone's glasses. She gulped.

"I'm Seth," by the way," he said.

"Millie."

They came to a red door. Seth knocked, found no one inside, and led her in. The room was bare and light inside the room was red.

"Before we do this," Seth said, now serious, "I need to know that you really, really do want to do this. Remember, you'll never experience hunger for anything but blood again. No cheeseburgers, no pizza, etc. Understand?"

Millie nodded, but her stomach rumbled.

"Your body won't show up anymore. No reflections, no photos, not even paintings. Understand?"

She nodded again, but recalled that she'd looked in the mirror several times in the past few days.

"But nothing's as bad as the social isolation you'll feel. Even with vampires, you'll constantly have to prove your worth to everyone."

"No!" Millie blurted out. She began to cry a little.

"You see? It's not for everyone."

"I think I'd better go," she said, feeling nauseous. The vampire nodded, and she went out of the room and towards the exit as everyone watched her lustfully.

After leaving the club proper, she was surprised by a man.

"Bloodsucker!" he shouted, and plunged a stake into her mortal heart.