Life of a Deadman

Author's Note: This is a re-post of my previous and first submission. This time 'round, it has been revised, changed and lengthened. I hope you enjoy it. Also, there is NO sex in this first chapter, and there may not be any in any further chapters, I don't know yet. If you are looking for a quick wank, then look elsewhere; if you want a good story, read on. Oh yeah, don't forget, this piece is only allowed on Literotica.

My Introduction to Death

The ringing of my seldom used cell phone startled me out of my stupor; I had been aimlessly watching the TV and had begun to space out, thinking about nothing at all, letting the drone of commercials slowly hypnotize me. I didn't bother checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

...

"Oh, hi, How are you?"

...

"A favor? That depends, what is it?"

...

"You know I don't –"

...

"Yes you are my friend, but you don't need to worry about me."
...
"Do I have to dress up? Is it black tie?"
...
"No that doesn't mean I'll go. Why don't you ask somebody else who likes going out?"
...
"Egh... alright. I'll go."
...
"Seven? Alright, see you then. Yeah, bye."

I put the phone down, wondering what I had gotten myself into. But, maybe the night won't be so bad, I reasoned. It's just a ball, after all. I'll just go drink out on the balcony and let her do whatever it is she does.

If only I knew what Ireallywas getting into...

*******************

Bright colors, fancy clothes... So many unknown faces. "Why did I let her drag me here?" I wondered out loud, moving slowly through the crowd out to the stone balcony. I didn't care for the gaudy attitude the whole ball exuded. It seemed so merry and jovial at a glance, but when in the mix, I just felt like it was a big play and I should have been trying to act important like everybody else in the room.

I was in fact the only man that night who didn't wear anything more that a simple brown suit. No tux for me, thank you. Also, I was apparently the only one out on the balcony, away from the party, or so I thought.

"Athan! Come here, I thought I lost you..."

Shari Spence, my 'date' and the only reason why I was even at that ridiculous ball. Apparently, she knew some city official of Chicago and was invited to attend. What was it for again? A fundraiser? Or was it a charity event? Did it even matter?

"I came to check on you and see how you were," Shari continued, "I knew I would find you out here all by yourself. If you were going to dothisall night, why did you accept my invite?"

"Shari... look," I started, but then stopped. Why did I go along with her?

I went along because I had nothing better to do with my evening. She knew it and needed a date in a pinch. It's not like she couldn't get anybody else to go with her; she isn't horrible to look at or anything, with her bright green eyes and her short, bobbed blonde hair. Attractive smile too. She is just charitable, and probably, knowing my habits, wanted to do something nice for me.

Oh well...

"I came along because... uh, well what is thi-" I was going to ask what exactly the ball was for, but Shari cut me off.

"Oh! Uh, well I'll see you in a bit, I just saw an old friend," she said, looking over my shoulder. "Don't get lost again, okay? Go and have fun... talk to people!"

"Yeah, bye. Have fun."

With that, she turned away and ran back inside, apparently after that 'old friend' of hers. I couldn't blame her; I wouldn't really want to mope outside with myself either. So I too made my way back inside.

I found myself at the snack and refreshment bar, which was actually a long table cloaked in white, surrounded by waiters. Feeling only a little thirsty, and more bored than anything, I poured a glassful of punch.

"Egh! It's spiked..." I coughed, after taking a hearty pull from the too-strong alcoholic punch. Shrugging, I tossed the rest back, feeling the warmth tingle its way to my core. Holding the glass, I turned around, gazing at the rest of the party from my post at the bowl of punch.

There wasn't much to look at; just rich people dancing, talking, or arguing with one another. It was all rather ordinary despite all the flourishes of the ball. No matter how you dress them up or where you find them, people are still people and still boring.

And thus the next couple of hours passed: Myself, loitering near the spiked punch gazing at the general crowd without incident. I had become such a fixture there that near the end of it, men and women were approaching me with the expectation I was there to refill his or her drink.

I was mesmerized by a woman on the dance floor, feeling almost as if she were dancing for me. I had been watching her for quite some time when suddenly, and quite sharply, I felt a tug on my sleeve. "Excuse me, but I would like some more punch. Hello?"

To my left, a smaller woman who had obviously been trying to get my attention (for how long I didn't know) was waving a glass at me. She had interrupted my daydream which left me staring, but at whom? Even as I poured the guest's glass, absentmindedly over-filling it, I continued to stare into the crowd, trying to find the woman who held my attention so strongly just a moment before.

I had too much to drink; I couldn't seem to concentrate at all. In the same stupor, I began to drift away from my tableside post into the crowd feeling like I lost something and had to find it.

I saw Shari approach me, worry showing in her eyes. "Athan!" she exclaimed, "Are you okay? You really don't look well."

All I could muster was a grunt in reply, because at that very moment I found myself staring at a dark haired beauty from across the ballroom. I had completely forgotten about Shari, who was calling after me, and started making my way towards this woman when she turned and vanished into the crowd.

That was her! She was the one that held me so entranced earlier, it had to be!

Don't ask me why, but I had to find her. I am normally not the kind of guy that goes chasing after women, in fact, I lead a solitary life. I was never married and didn't care for social outings, much less grandiose get-togethers such as the ball.

But this woman – her image, frozen in my mind, had me entranced. I had to find her. So I rushed through the crowd, bumping here and there into faceless faces and nameless bodies. Before long, I spied her starting up the largest set of stairs in the room, disappearing around the corner.

"Shit..." I could have sworn she glanced down at me, just briefly, but I couldn't tell. "Who is she?"

As I made my way up the stairs I could feel my pulse rising, along with the temperature. I had to go so far as to loosen my tie, which was fine; I hate ties anyway. But why was it getting so hot?

My head began to get swimmy; I felt ready to pass out drunk by the time I reached the top of the stairs.

"Shit..." I said again. I had just glimpsed her slipping into a room. Now I new something was wrong; I couldn't hear anything, just a faint humming and the beating of my heart, explosive like a cannon in my ears. I couldn't take my eyes off the doorway I was slowly stumbling towards. I don't think I could have stopped myself had I wanted to.

Would I have wanted to stop if I knew that it would mean the death of me to continue? I don't know, and try not to think upon it.

"It's you," I gasped when I tumbled into the room, as if I knew who she was. As if I knew what she was.

All she did was smile, her ruby lips curling at the sides to show me an impossibly white set of teeth. Her deep blue eyes drew me in like a flame does a moth. Before I knew it I was locked inherembrace; I had no power over myself to do anything but let her hold me up, buried in her earthy scent, tangled in her velvety black locks, thrown upon her cold, hard frame. How odd it felt.

In a gloriously painful instant I felt the life drain out of me, all at once a liquid fire bleeding from my core. Darkness seemed to flow around me, through me, and a gentle peace quickly took me over.

At that moment I fell in love.

At that moment I died.

Myself, My Story

My name is Athan Briggs. I am your typical nobody, hiding in plain sight. I used to be somewhat of a recluse... Now? I am just dead. I guess you could call me something of a vampire.

However, that title is more of a misnomer than anything else. I am not what Hollywood and modern society would consider a vampire; I can eat regular food, I can sleep and wake whenever I want, day or night. And I live forever.

I cannot read minds, although I can be very, very persuasive. I drink blood, yes. The experience is akin to cumming all at once all over, a sustained explosion surging through ones whole being, to be frank. And my endurance and strength is definitely not human. To be honest, most of my body isn't really human anymore. I would explain now, but I'll just get to that in my story. You'll see.

Other than all that, I am still a normal person. Oh, others of my kind, along with myself, seem to have some sort of unique ability that they have developed, usually different per individual. Some can ignite held objects on fire; others may be able to read minds. There is only one whom I know to posses the incredible ability to fly. Our special skills have developed to and are intended to help us hunt, to help us survive. Not that my kind really need the help.

So, what am I doing this for? Why am I writing down my story? I only halfway know. I want to come out of the shadows; I lived my whole natural life hiding from society, from people. I hid from the world, wasting my life hidden away in the safe corners of my own mind. I never was a family man, having only a few short relationships more akin to brief encounters than anything else.

There is no one left of my human bloodline to carry my name, not even an old friend to remember who I was. They are all dead now.

But I'll get to that. This is my story. My life after "death," my deadly romance with the woman who killed me, the loss of everything I've ever known, and the crazy obsession with everything I used to be.

Finally, I am saying good-bye. Good-bye to the human in me, the humanity that has now faded away, nothing more that a vague memory. In writing this, anything left of my humanity will have been transferred onto paper. I feel that then, and only then, I can truly live. I spent much of my first years as an emotional, guilt-ridden vamp, but I am done with that now. I guess you could say I am coming into my own.

This is my story.

Who knows what will happen in the future, but I want what has happened in my past recorded, leading up to the present. Even if no one ever gets to read this, as I am liable to burn it, I hope to find some sort of release from within the words of this manuscript. A release from the humanity that made what I had become unbearable.

Perhaps I should start by briefly visiting my old life. Running through those boring days may give a better insight to what I am now, a better understanding of my need to rid myself of humanity. Maybe I am just dragging this out longer than needed, maybe I am stalling.

I don't even remember my teen years, much less my early childhood. My first human memories are that of war. I was a Marine, a grunt. I didn't join up for my country though, or for personal pride. I was honestly bored with life, that is all. I didn't even do anything spectacular during my time served. I just got through it.

After that I did the college gig for a while, getting my associates before taking on a job in a factory as a supervisor. That was the first of many dreary jobs that got me through life on a day to day basis. I was never poor, but I was never particularly wealthy either.

I was never much for relationships or even people in general. I wasn't necessarily a loner; I had a few friends, some of which were rather close. However I always held even the best of them at no less than an arms distance. I constantly spent time thinking, introspectively observing my life and being in the world around me.

I was not terribly emotional either. Things just never affected me the right way, as they would other people. Honestly, be it because I have left that life behind or whatever other reason, in retrospect I find my old life to have been nothing but a grey fog, a slow black and white film unfolding predictably.

I went to work daily, ate at all the normal times, and even had normal, although rare, physical relations with women. My life was plain, boring. Add that to the frustration of not being capable of 'connecting' with those around me, and my world was pretty shitty.

I guess I just put on a good face and lived through it. Until I died that is. That's when everything changed.

That's when my story really starts.

The Pain of Waking

I felt nothing but pain, white-hot burning pain, wracking my insides, coursing through my center; that was my world as soon as consciousness took a hold of me. My eyes weren't even open yet!

I could hear my cries echoing all around me, screaming so loud my head felt as if it were splitting. Everything seemed heightened; the pain was only increasing, the screaming louder than it seemed possible. Was that screaming me?

And then... Silence.

Everything was gone. Spasms of pain still clutched at my chest and stomach, and little whimpers still escaped my lips, but other than that, my world was empty. Suddenly a stench reached my nostrils, causing my stomach to wretch with a sickness. What was that?

With a groan, I realized I soiled myself. I shit and pissed myself like an invalid. At that, I broke down. The pain, the sickness, the stench and shame were all too much for me to handle. And so I cried. Sobbing into the cold floor, the confusion of what was happening finally registering on my already overloaded mind, I fell asleep.

*******************

Slowly, I became self-aware again. Slowly, I began to wake. As I opened my eyes, I found myself in a warm, dimly lit room.

"Strange," I said to myself. I didn't think I was in the same room as I was earlier. This room seems so much more welcoming. It felt like I was in a dark basement earlier...

"Earlier? What happened?" I started to panic as shadowy memories of massive amounts of pain came rushing back to me.

Then I realized I was naked and clean; no more sickening stench. "It's about time you woke up," floated a soft, sweet voice, but from where? "You looked so peaceful sleeping there; I couldn't bring myself to wake you, especially after what you had to go through."

"Where are you?" I tried shouting, but my voice was barely a hoarse whisper. "Who are you?" My eyes were frantically scanning the room, taking in everything, trying to find my captor. Because that's what she was, right? All I found though was a plush elegantly styled room, the dark green rugs contrasting well with the stained wood panels of the wall.

In afterthought, I am surprised how much of the room I took in and appraised. It was like my senses were working overtime and overloaded.

The bed in which I sat up was overstuffed, with at least ten pillows, covered in vanilla silk sheets and velvet down blankets. There were heavily cushioned high-back chairs placed through out the room - and there she was... blending in perfectly with the room and the chair that held her surprisingly small frame. How did I miss her?

With long black, curly locks, vibrant green-blue eyes, and a cherubic mouth placed pleasantly on a roundish face, she really was hard to miss. Her form, small but not petite, was almost swallowed up by the cushioned chair she leaned forward from.

"Who are you?" I asked again, "Where am I?" For a second she just gazed at me, a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her face. Then -

"Katherine. Just call me Katherine." Her voice was soft and measured but so strong, it was strange. "And you are in my apartment, in fact, you are in my room. I took your clothes, threw them away, bathed you, and let you sleep in my bed while you recovered.

"Do you feel well, now?" She continued, my mind racing at what she said. "Don't be scared, I promise you are alright. Really, you should be feeling better and better as the seconds pass by."

"What happened to me? How did I get here... did you really do all this yourself?" My mind was running so fast it was practically tripping over one thought after another. "What happened to me?!"

What she said next made me laugh out of disbelief.

"You are dead. I killed you." She whispered with that smirk on her face... almost mirthful.

"What? Dead? You kissed me, not killed me..." I started to argue but stopped as everything came back to me- the ball, my drunken chase of her, the cold embrace, and then yes, that wonderful burning sensation, then darkness. Was I really dead?

"What you were feeling earlier," she continued, ignoring my denials, "were the final pangs of death. Your life struggling to hold on as it leaves your body. It is never pleasant."

What was going on? Nothing made any sense to me; I was in a beautiful woman's bed, the same woman who claimed to kill me, but I was still alive. I didn't feel dead at all. She was right, I was feeling better almost a hundredfold compared to earlier.

Was that how death feels?

She must have sensed my confusion, because at that moment, she moved to the bedside (how graceful she looked) and took my hand, her skin so cold to the touch.

"Athan, I took your life," she simply stated with a squeeze of my hand. How did she know my name? "I took your blood and gave you mine. You probably don't even remember that part, your mind had already shut down by then."

She waited for me, allowing me to slowly put together and analyze all of what she said, in her smooth, soft, matter-of-fact manner.

"So let me get this straight," I stammered out, "are you a vampire?"

"If you want you could call me that, you could callusthat," Katherine started, her controlled, floating voice almost leaving me mesmerized again. "Whatever you think we are though, I can assure you that you have died. That, and I will admit to taking your life. Unfortunately, I don't really understand myself, why I did it."

"You don't know why you killed me?"

"Oh, no... no. I was going to kill you either way; I was hunting, you might say. I don't know why I changed you – turning you into the being you are now. It wasn't supposed to happen."

Again, she paused, as if sensing that my mind was still reeling from surviving the absurdity of the situation. How could she speak about all that in such a nonchalant manor? All I could do was stare at her, my eyes wide under a furrowed brow. I probably looked surprised. I couldn't accept it!

From the gorgeous room I awoke in, hell, the huge plush bed I still sat naked upon to the beauty poised next to me telling me I was a vampire, I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or scream for help, for mercy. I certainly didn't believe her.

"I know what you're thinking, Athan, and its understandable- "

"No, you don't know what I am thinking! Unless you really can read minds, suck blood and all that, I think you are fucking crazy!" I began to get angry; what kind of sick game was this? "This is what I think happened, okay? I went to a stupid ball because a friend felt bad for me, got drunk by the punch bowl, saw a beautiful woman, followed her upstairs, and apparently after an amazing kiss, went home with her. The worst thing is, I don't remember the best part!"

For a second, Katherine just looked at me. Her eyes at first piercing and thoughtful, glowing from the dim light of the room, suddenly softened. And she laughed at me!

"I am sorry, Athan, but you are wrong." God! Her voice got to me. "Well, yes, you were drunk, and you did follow me up the stairs – thank you for calling me beautiful by the way – but we didn't actually kiss. I bit you, and am not surprised you remember it as a kiss. In a way it was, but the kiss of death is not something you get all the time."