Another night, new challenges.

Mark got up.

Today he would actually leave the flat.

To do what, he wasn't sure. But today, progress would be made.

He ran his tongue over his new teeth while looking for his toothbrush.

They had erupted during the night. Or actually day, when he had been sleeping. The new canines didn't feel longer than the other teeth, but they certainly felt shaper. He thought about them while washing his teeth.

Would he actually have to-

Well, do vampire stuff.

Bite people.

No need to get ahead of himself, he didn't know anything yet. Maybe it was all a myth. Racist anti-vampire propaganda. Maybe they actually ate mostly fish, or something. He didn't know for sure.

Just in case he drank as much water as he could. It seemed to stay down. And if he was filled with water, he was less likely to go mad with blood-thirst. Hopefully.

Could he go to the blood bank? Would that work? Presumably they didn't give blood to just anyone, you probably had to have some credentials. Maybe he could find a butcher, buy some pig-blood and bake it, maybe make some soup, surely he couldn't just drink raw blood, that was bound to be full of bacteria and germs.

Mark stopped, stood still and listened. It seemed like Jez wasn't in. That was probably just a good thing.

Mark felt his chin. It seemed like he didn't need to shave. Which was odd, since he thought that a beard was supposed to grow even after death. But it was good, since he couldn't use the mirror anymore. But he checked just in case.

Still no reflection.

At least his arm didn't hurt anymore. It looked like it was healing, so that was a small positive. In the sea of negative horribleness.

On the up side, he could heal from horrible burns quickly.

On the down side, exposure to sunlight caused horrible burns.

He put on the suit and his tie. Somehow that made him feel better.

More normal. Not that he had ever felt completely normal, but ever since his life had plunged straight into Twilight Zone, some resemblance of normalcy was the best he could hope for.

After some thought he decided against wearing his own coat and instead borrow one of Jez's. Just in case he'd end up being chased by an angry mob.

He went through the closet, trying to pick the least smelly one.

Mark had to admit, the heightened sense of smell was interesting, at least. When he tried, he could pick up distinctly different scents from the clothing.

He briefly wondered how much of it was just general human-smell, and how much distinctly Jeremy.

Now that he thought about it, what he was doing was kinda weird. But useful. Once he would be able to identify what all these smells were, he could get so much information on people without them ever realizing.

He hoped he couldn't get high just via smelling Jeremy's clothes, though.

Eventually he picked a grey hoodie he found behind the laundry basket. At least its smells were mostly faded, plus he could pull the hood up if he had to hide his face.

Slowly, he opened the flat door and peered out. He could hear someone coming up the stairs.

The old lady that lived in the building somewhere.

Mark slipped out, closing the door behind him. "Hi!"

The woman stopped, giving him an uncertain smile.

Why had he talked to her? Actually, this was a good opportunity to reach out to humanity. Reassure himself that he was still capable of relatively normal human interaction.

"It is a nice day, isn't it?" He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

If he looked strange or did something weird and she noticed he could always claim she was mistaken and crazy with Alzheimer's.

"Yes, yes it is." A slight smile. He had achieved a polite smile.

Should he try her? She was old, and probably wouldn't put up much of a fight.

Did he want to bite her, though?

Did he want to drink her blood, bite into her wrinkly neck…

Mark stared.

The woman was going on about something, people probably never talked to her and all her friends were dead, so she was glad to have someone show some interest in her opinion of the niceness of the day. Mark had stopped listening a while ago, all his attention focused on her neck, the neck popping up and down as she spoke. He could smell her, her old woman smell, and under that smell of something very inviting…

He was vaguely aware he had moved closer. He could hear her heart beating now-

And there was a weird tingling in his mouth that jolted him awake.

He couldn't bite her! That was wrong! And this was his own apartment building, he would get caught, unless he killed her and dragged her corpse to somewhere it would never be found-

He slapped his hand over his mouth, covering it.

No, he'd have to get away now. Who knew how stupid he looked, some weird things going on with his teeth.

"Fshee you later", he managed to get out, before running out, leaving her behind.

So now his canines had decided to go completely vampiry.

Why had he ran out? He should have gone back in, he couldn't go out looking like; whatever it was he looked like. His teeth felt huge. He probably looked like a walrus.

He stared in the corner.

They had come out, maybe they could go back in?

He tried slightly nudging them. Maybe he should try to think things that didn't remind him of blood? Something that would make him lose his appetite.

He stared at the wall. Walls. Architecture. Castles. Nothing worth biting there. Toast. Throwing up. The smell of his carpet.

Slowly, he could feel them retracting, until they didn't feel much longer than his other teeth.

This was a problem, though.

What if he had unwanted teeth-boners every time he talked to a human? Just the thought made his teeth tingle again.

He would have to get something to eat.

He started walking, aimlessly.

Looking at people. Were all those other people just food to him now? Was that how he felt?

Wasn't it cannibalism? Or didn't it count? What if he actually was sick and imagining everything? Although he was reasonably certain that if he had finally snapped and gone insane his subconscious wouldn't have tried to convince him that he was a vampire. He would have more likely got it into his head that he was Rommel or something like that. Lead an invisible army against ducks in the park wearing only pants.

He saw a group of kids talking.

Maybe he should try a kid? They were smaller than adults, even he could probably overpower one. No, that was even more wrong than doing it to an adult. He definitely wasn't a pedo.

Was eating a child worse than raping one or was it the other way around?

No, definitely not a kid. They had less blood, he would more easily kill them. And get less to eat. But maybe they tasted better. Fresher.

Shit, he could feel his teeth acting up again. He would probably have to think of something, he was feeling tired and weak.

Maybe he could try drinking milk. It was a bodily fluid. Maybe it would work, he could apparently still drink water.

He found himself walking towards the alley, and figured he might start from there, just as well.

Maybe that would be the best course of action. Go back to where it all started. Maybe he'd run into the girl and he could make her tell him how this all worked and how you could survive living like this.

Maybe she didn't have it together either. She had been, after all, stalking people in a dark smelly alley, that didn't exactly scream 'well-functioning member of vampire society'. He'd think they'd have some organization, some system by which they got their food. Humans didn't have to go find a cow to butcher every time they wanted a hamburger.

Maybe that was just how she got her kicks. Maybe there was a well-organised vampire society with registers and forms you'd have to fill. Maybe he had just slipped through the system, maybe normally they had application processes and orientation programs for new recruits where they got told all the important stuff.

Mark hoped vampires weren't just some anarchists who did whatever they pleased. That thought made him feel incredibly lonely.

He stood middle of the alley.

It didn't look half as scary now. Although that had mostly to do with how he could see in the dark now. If there were some gang-members, he could hear them well in advance and hide in the shadows much easier. But on the other hand he still had no idea what other weaknesses he had. Maybe puddles could kill him now. Water did kill vampires in some stories, although it usually had to be running water, or holy. But it would be just his luck to be turned into something that got killed by absolutely everything.

He kept standing.

So, this was it? This was the place where his life had completely changed.

It felt somehow insulting.

There hadn't even been a funeral for him. He guessed it was easier this way, since he'd still have his job, if he managed to somehow continue doing it and if he wasn't fired for not coming to work. And he'd still have his flat. If he had been legally declared dead, he would have most likely lost it. And he would have had to make up some very good excuse for why he had returned from the dead. But at least all his friends and family would have known he was dead, and they would have been sorry, and sad. Maybe his dad would have even cried at the funeral. Jeremy would have made some highly inappropriate but heartfelt speech that would have made everyone feel incredibly awkward. Then there would have been more crying.

But they hadn't even noticed he had been gone. They didn't know what he had gone through.

They thought everything was just normal. In their normal little world where people were born, grew up, fell in love, had children and died and stayed dead.

Well, fuck them!

He couldn't just spend the whole night standing there.

Maybe he should try doing some detective work.

He knocked on the door on the alley. It was possible the girl had come from there, maybe this was a place where vampires hanged out.

"Hello?"

The door was opened by a woman Mark estimated to be in her forties.

"Yes?"

She likely wasn't a vampire, Mark could tell from her smell. Still, it was the best lead he had.

"I'm terribly sorry, but have you seen an acquaintance of mine? A girl about this tall, pale, petite?"

He gestured, trying to recall how tall she had been.

"She is a cousin of mine", he hurried to add, seeing the suspicious look on her face.

"No, sorry."

She started to close the door.

"Wait!"

She stopped.

"Could I come in? To use the phone? I lost her, and she had my phone, and I'm really worried about her, since it's so dark."

The woman looked dubious.

Mark looked her in the eye, trying to look trustworthy. As well as try to hypnotize her, just in case he had any such powers.

Let me in. Letmein. I'm not a suspicious person. You don't need to see my identification.

"Well, okay."

Yes, he had done it. Although, he was almost certain it had less to do with any vampire-mind tricks, and more with his general trustworthiness. And the fact that he presumably looked too ill and weak to pose any real threat.

Well, he was in. It looked like it was the back door entrance for some video-rental-place.

"Here."

Mark stared at the cellphone he was offered.

"You wanted to use the phone?"

"Ah, yes, thanks."

He took the phone. Great, now he'd have to call someone. He turned around, and fiddled with the phone, pretending to make a call.

"Hello? This is-"

Quickly, he had to think for an alias.

"Jeremy. Yes, it's me, I just wanted to call to tell you I lost Sophie."

He pretended to listen.

"Really? That's great!"

He closed the phone, and offered it back.

"Turns out she found her way back home."

She smiled. "That's good."

What was he going to do now? This had been a complete dead end.

He felt dizzy.

"Are you all right?"

She looked worried. Just how ill and abnormal did he look?

"I'm alright. Don't I look alright?"

"You look a bit ill. Maybe you should sit-"

She grabbed his arm, probably thinking he looked like he was going to fall down any minute.

In fact, that was more than likely. Mark was feeling like the world was going out of focus.

She was so close. Rest of the world seemed to stop mattering. And there was the overpowering need to-

Mark stepped towards her, aware his teeth were fully out. He'd have to act quickly, before she noticed.

He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her closer, and buried his fangs to her neck.

There was a huge rush when the first drops of blood hit his tongue. This was it, this was the thing. It was filling a need he hadn't even been fully aware of. It didn't just taste good, it was the best thing he had ever drank or eaten. All his doubts were just washed away. This was right. Everything would be all right, if he just had a bit more…

But there was so little of it. He sucked on the hole he had punctured on her neck, but there wasn't enough. She squirmed, and his teeth slipped. He wasn't getting enough of it, he was so hungry…

If she only stopped struggling-

He tried correcting his hold, but lost his grip. She elbowed him in the stomach, and they both fell on the floor.

And she screamed.

Mark jumped back, horrified of what he had done.

"Liften, I'm sfhorry"

This only incited more screaming.

And Mark bolted through the open door and fled.

And ran.

He kept running for a while, until he found himself in a park somewhere.

Only then he stopped. He did his best to lick the blood off his face, not wanting to waste a drop.

Had he just done that? Had he just attacked a total stranger? He could have killed her.

But he felt better. Stronger. And he had ran all the way here without stopping to catch his breath, which he didn't have anymore. And now he knew what it was like. He would have to do it again, properly this time. But he'd have to be more careful. Approach someone in the dark so they couldn't identify him.

Had he left his fingerprints on her phone? Did he leave fingerprints at all anymore? Who cared, he had done something vampire-like! And he needed more.

All his senses seemed hyper-sharpened, he was aware of the sounds and smells of the cars passing by, a couple making out in a car close by, someone walking unsteadily through the park…

He sneaked towards him. He smelled like booze and sweat. Probably homeless. Someone no one would miss…

Mark followed him in the shadows.

He could jump out, and grab him-

And then what?

Go for the throat?

But he was drunk! What if he got drunk too? Or high? Or got some weird blood-disease? The guy was probably a bum, he was probably full of all kinds of diseases.

Mark stopped.

What was he doing?