I packed my things that very same evening and made sure to disappear from the city. It wasn't the first time I had packed up and left, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, that much was certain.

I stayed with acquaintances in Oregon for a few days, but after not managing to leave the bed for two weeks, I was kicked out of the apartment.

I was "moping" too much.

Well, it seemed like a murdered boyfriend was quite a mood killer, as it appeared.

I only got back on my feet after a month.

Through a bar fight, of all things.

I had originally entered the bar to drown my sorrows. That had worked well in the weeks prior, plus my brain would let me rest for a few hours when I fell into a coma from excessive alcohol consumption. On this particular evening however, I had a particularly persistent admirer sitting next to me on the bar stool, who just wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Come on, darling, just one drink!" he slurred repeatedly in my direction.

His hand made its way up my thigh in a clear gesture. I slapped it away and glared at him.

"No!"

He laughed.

"Oh, feisty. I like that best!"

His fingers became more aggressive in their wandering, so I stood up in outrage and backed away. "HANDS OFF!" I hissed.

He, too, stood up, surprisingly nimble considering his level of intoxication, and pushed me further back.

"But I can do such wonderful things with my hands... and with my mouth and with my tongue and with my..."

He came closer, pushing me against the back wall of the bar. It was loud, it was crowded, no one paid any attention to us. All escape routes were blocked for me, I realized a moment to late as hee grinned lasciviously, smelling of sweat and booze and cheap perfume. I tried to push him away, but I couldn't do anything against him. I was physically at and disadvantage against him and we both knew it.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." he clicked his tongue. Then he pressed himself against me,   trying to force his tongue down my throat. Hot anger surged through me, my surroundings switching back into focus again. Then, everything seemed to happen at a slower pace. Felt lighter. With unexpected strength, I pushed him back. He fell backwards over a bar table and broke a chair.

"You bitch!" he shouted furiously and came towards me hands raised for a fight. In slow motion, I saw him winding up and deftly dodged. Then I struck back and gave the man my first ever punch to the jaw. It cracked, it crunched, then it became silent around us. Of course, we were both thrown out of the bar separately, and someone had called the cops, so I quickly made sure to move on, but I had discovered something.

For one: Punching someone with your fist was incredibly painful. 

And secondly, I just discovered how to find my way back from this black whole that'd threatened to devour me whole: Anger. Anger and a hefty dose of physical violence.

But instead of succumbing directly to the bloodlust, I took the "healthy" path first.

Exercise. Martial arts, to be precise. But only hitting a punching bag or padded pillows was like putting a band-aid on a gunshot wound. Enough for maybe 2 minutes, but sooner or later someone would have to remove the bullet and then stitch up the wound.

Just the thought that someone was out there, freely roaming the world and getting away with killing Tom, made me see red. Whenever I tried to recreate in my head what had happened that day, my head felt fuzzy, detailed felt like they escaped me. Just none of that made any sense. With each passing day, the anger inside me grew hotter and sharper, itching for a way out. A target to be aimed at. But I had no lead. No idea how I could go about finding the man who ruined my life.

Until the "Big Revelation."

When the vampires came to light, I was sitting on my couch, huddled up with a blanket  a big bowl of cereal. The cereal was my dinner, as I had absolutely no desire to cook. Or clean. Or buy new groceries. The TV ran as background noise so I didn't feel so alone in my small apartment. I was lonely, but at the same time, I couldn't stand to have people around me under any circumstances. With their good moods. And their friendly behavior. Bah. 

I had become a shut in, avoiding people whenever possible. My skills, once so useful for our little gang of amateur delinquents allowed me to get by from home just fine, so my private four walls became my sanctuary. I hadn't talked much less seen anyone in days, maybe weeks, so I didn't quite trust what I had been seeing on the screen that night. 

In the news, a blonde conservative-looking woman appeared, her hair tightly pulled back. I barely paid her any attention either. I was creating a workout plan on my phone. My sport was becoming more and more excessive, as it satisfied me and my grief less and less. I felt like a junkie going through withdrawal.

"As you may know, the Japanese introduced the synthetic blood 'Tru Blood' to the market last month..." the woman reminded the audience. Beneath her profile scrolled the text banner, identifying her as "Nan Flannigen."

"Yeah, yeah Tru Blood. A major advancement in the pharmaceutical industry. Blah blah.", I had stuffed down another mouthful of cereal.

"...which is why we've decided to come forward as well."

Would I manage to make it to Taekwondo and Krav Maga tomorrow? 3 hours each, then still grocery shopping...

"Vampires are real."

The spoon fell loudly into the bowl.

I coughed. I sputtered out the cereal and milk. I was pretty sure I looked like the stick figure meme spitting out its cereal again.

Did my health insurance cover psychological treatments? Was I hallucinating? Should I maybe make an appointment with the ear doctor after all? 

The only indication, that I wasn't completely losing it after all, was that the news anchor seemed equally shocked.

"I think we have a technical glitch here, Miss Flannigen. It sounded like you said 'vampire.'"

Nervous laughter.

The woman only raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that's what I said. This here is the official big Revelation."

Then, snap, her fangs came out. And finally, the cereal bowl slipped from my lap and crashed onto the floor.

Images swirled through my head in neck breaking speed, appearing and disappearing the second they crashed down. Then, a head-splitting headache formed.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. Everything around me was a rush. Only my brain finally put together all the missing puzzle pieces of the past few month, and suddenly everything made sense.

The strength, the blood, the supposed age, and the teeth.

The man Eric, as far as I knew, who had murdered my friend, was a vampire.

I jumped up so fast from the sofa that I jumped into the shattered shards of the porcelain bowl. Although I had cut my foot open wide, I hardly felt it. I had been feeling very little lately in general.

I limped into the kitchen, pulled out the shard, and wrapped a clean kitchen towel around it, which I taped down with duct tape. Then I walked to the phone and held it bewildered in my hand. There was no one I could inform about the new development. 

Still the phone was blinking with the number dialed in my excitement on autopilot: Tom.

Breathless, I collapsed, right there on the floor. Tears ran down my face, which I angrily wiped away. Wasn't the hurt from the loss suppose to get better with time? Instead it felt like it was somehow getting worse. 

"Things only change, make them change Ash."

I screamed. Then I ran to the bath and threw up, a ghost-version of Tom following me. It was the first time, his lingering spirit hunted me. 

"Losing my mind. Definetly losing my mind. Shit..."

Ghost Tomb just leaned against the banister, shrugging. 

"So do something about it. Get your revenge. After that, you can still lock yourself up in a loony bin."

The mirror behind Tom was reflecting my image back to me. I was almost as pale as Tom himself. Lean muscles had formed, where previous my curves had dominated my features more softly. My eyes looked hunter, my features grim. I looked dead. 

This couldn't go on. It wouldn't go on like this. That very night, I forged plans:

1) I would go back to New York.

2)Observe the development of the vampires and find myself one – Somehow make him talk.

3) Find out who this Eric was.

Then, finally,  I would take the revenge that I deserved. My hands started shaking, as the repressed rage was bubbling up inside of me once more, as if to remind me of its power, as if it felt that revenge would be mind not too far away. 

I closed my eyes, taking a few calming breath. 

Yes, I would get my revenge soon. Until then, I would be prepared. And he wouldn't know what was coming for him.