A Vampire in Seattle

A college student is saved by a vampire

Prologue

"Call me Ishmael".

No, not really. My name is Steven, but "Call me Steven" doesn't quite have the same effect. "Moby Dick" was, no is, Tristan's favorite book. He always said it was the best and worst book he ever read. He used to like to read the last part to us, the part where Moby Dick destroys the whaler, and even though the sailors know they are doomed, they allow Ahab to beckon them on in pursuit of the great white whale. In the end, when the ship and all the boats are destroyed, and the sailors killed, Ishmael survives thanks to Queequag's coffin.

Tristan is a survivor, just like Ishmael. That's why I don't believe he and Isolde are dead. Tristan would never give up on living and he'd never let Isolde die.

Chapter One: As I Lay Dying

The night I met Tristan and his lover Isolde was both the best and the worst night of my life. It was the last time I saw Julie, the girl I wanted to marry, if she'd have me. It had been one of those nights that you remember in a relationship.

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We'd gone to watch the Huskies play UCLA, and afterwards we took a slow, romantic walk back to my fraternity. Our walk was filled with kisses stolen in alleys, our hands all over each other. I was so hot for her at that night that I was ready to drag her into a darkened doorway and have her right there; but I decided I'd wait until we got back to my fraternity. I had it all planned: I'd propose and then we'd do all those things we'd been whispering in the other's ear.

Maybe that's what I should have done, but that is all in the past. We heard some people walking behind us, but paid them no mind. Our basketball team was having a really good year and each game practically sold out. There were people walking all over campus, you could hear them talking about the game, or debating where to go to celebrate. I wasn't worried about the footsteps behind us, not until it was too late. There was an air of celebration that everyone could feel. I expected that whoever was walking behind us would either

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stay behind or pass us, maybe saying something like, "Great game, man, huh?" That's the reason I wasn't panicking until the footsteps came too close.

Everything changed in an instant. There were four of them; two with guns, two with wicked-looking knives. Both Julie and I offered our wallets without a word; then the tallest one smiled, and aimed his "Glock" and gut shot me, a guarantee that I'd die if I didn't get help and soon. That's what I think he intended, to watch me slowly bleed to death as I lay helpless on the sidewalk. All I knew is that as I lay waiting to die they surrounded Julie. I could not move or cry out for help as I listened to the sounds of tearing clothes and Julie screaming. Then, after a while, heard the sound of a gunshot and deathly silence.

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The tall one with the lousy aim put one more bullet in me. I would have appreciated it if he had better aim and killed me. I wanted more than anything else to curl up next to Julie's body and die at her side. Instead I lay paralyzed and bleeding to death as our assailants took off down the alley and I saw the ruins of my Julie lying there. I began to weep like a child. I should be dead, like her, with her. They had not only taken her life, they had deprived me of being able to die next to her. Why was I still alive anyway?

"You are alive so you can avenge her death." A stranger appeared at my side, seemingly out of nowhere, and had matter of factly answered my thoughts. He had curly blond hair and even in the alley his complexion had a pale luminescence. He squatted down next to me and stroked my forehead. I couldn't tell if he was French or maybe French Canadian, but though he spoke excellent English, it was definitely with an accent.

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Genres:

Drama

Fantasy

Horror

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