It all started a few days ago. I had just finished a night shift and was walking at what must have been two or three in the morning. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor of my living room with one hell of a migraine and sore neck. When I tried to get up, I felt incredibly nauseous and I ran into the bathroom to throw up. As I was washing face in the sink, I noticed two small marks on my neck, exactly where my neck hurt the most. I called work and told them that I probably wouldn’t be in for a couple of days, then I made it to my bedroom with a large plastic bowl from the cupboard just in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. I started to wonder how I got the scar on my neck, maybe I cut myself on some glass or metal and it gave me an infection? But that wouldn’t explain my headache nor how I didn’t remember anything that night. If I had a concussion, surely I would’ve woken up in the hospital and I don’t drink so I couldn’t of blacked out because of that. I decided that I should get some rest I figure this all out later. I might even feel better when I wake up.
I didn’t. If anything, I felt worse.
I woke up around five in the morning. I wasn’t feeling nauseous anymore, but practically everything else hurt. Head, neck, joints, you name it. I realised that I hadn’t eaten since I got back, so I went into the kitchen to make some cereal. I must’ve accidentally bit my tongue while eating, but I didn’t take notice until blood started profusely dripping out of my mouth. I put down my my bowl and sprinted -well, more like quickly hobbled- into the bathroom again. I looked at my tongue in the mirror and saw two puncture marks eerily similar to the scars on my neck, then I saw they were made two large pointed teeth near the front of my mouth. Really didn’t know what to do at this point. Should I try google my symptoms? I doubt anything would come up for them though. Maybe I should just leave it and hope to god this is all a bad lucid dream. The rest of my day went as normal, though I had to try especially hard to not bite off my own tongue. There was one thing that plagued my mind, however. When I bit through my tongue, my blood tasted…….good. Delicious, even. And as much as I tried to deny it, I wanted more.
I didn’t realise it was one in the morning until I glanced at the clock on the wall and I was surprised that I wasn’t tired yet, but I decided to get into bed anyway since my joints still hurt like hell. Though I didn’t sleep for long. I woke up to a horrific burning pain on my right leg. It was five in the morning, again, and the sun had started to rise, it was shining through the blinds right onto my leg, which was covered with a horrific sunburn. I got up to close the blinds and once I did, I noticed that my skin was pale and grey, almost like a corpse. Surprisingly, all the other “symptoms” made my life better. I had better hearing, a great sense of smell and I no longer needed my glasses, my joints were a lot better too. I think I fell asleep again because before I knew it, it was twenty to twelve at night. I grabbed a breakfast bar and turned on the TV, as I wasn’t going to go to sleep anytime soon. It was playing one of those A&E shows that used to make me queasy, but now for some reason I was transfixed on it. I just wanted to tear the blood bags from the people they were connected to and drink it all. Hell, I even wanted to drink it straight from the person themselves. Oh, to bite into their soft tender skin…. I snapped out of it and was disgusted and terrified of myself. Would I really do all those things given the chance? What kind of monster am I turning into?
My depressive train of thought was derailed by knock at the door, who would be visiting me at this hour? I looked out the peephole and saw a man who looked like he was dressed for winter, he had round sunglasses with gold rims and his black boots, trousers, dress shirt and trench coat greatly contrasted his pale grey skin and bleach blond hair. The stranger looked at a golden pocket watch out he pulled out of his breast pocket and tapped his foot repeatedly while I stood there stock-still from fear. Then he looked directly at me and said, “I know you’re there, I can see your eye. They’re already changing.” While pushing down his sunglasses, revealing his crimson red eyes. “I knew you might’ve scared, so I brought this along just in case.” He slipped a brown envelope through the letterbox before walking away. The back had a wax seal holding it shut and the front had my name. I opened it up and it said this:
“Dear [my name], you may not know me but I know you very well. I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since your “illness” started. I understand that the last few days may have been unusual for you, but I assure you it all going according to plan.
You are not alone. There are many others like you.
If you wish to know more about your condition, you will visit this address XXXX XXXX. If you decide to, you may never return to humanity nor your normal life vet again, but it will be the better option.
I hope to see you soon.”
Should I go? I think it’s for the better, but I’m not quite keen on the whole “never returning to humanity again” part. Please help me.