Not Another Vampire Story - 18
18. What Sylvia Saw
PG13. Tween, humor, middle school, angst, vampires, serial, teen, fiction, summer. #ReadFree
Read from the beginning.
Suggested Music: J-Pop on YouTube
Alone and snooping, Sylvia comes face to fang with the truth.
Abandoned and forlorn on her venture into Terry's neighborhood, Sylvia skirted the back alleys, dodging stray cats and the few other school kids who were on their way home in the brisk, sunny afternoon.
The wind was more than a breeze, rattling loose chain link fencing and making garbage scuttle across the sidewalks. She hugged her book closer, looking to the backyard of Terry's apartment house. She'd already checked the front street. His car wasn't in sight.
Her courage lagged as she made her way slowly into the backyard and to the fire escape.
Matt's added knowledge into the prescription by Dakmarr was unsettling, partly because Terry's family owned the company, and partly because she'd never heard of a drug like it before. She'd certainly never seen it advertised on television, and there were some very intimate pharmaceutical commercials out there.
She left her English book on a garbage can lid at the bottom of the fire exit ladder and grabbed the lowest rung, hoping the sliding glass door lock was tripped. If she moved quickly, she could be in and out in a few moments.
Maybe it was better this way, without Holly, Sylvia thought. She would have only slowed things down, wanting to smell pillows and such.
Sylvia smiled, thinking back on the impromptu walk with Lane. Talk about random, she thought. He looked even better up close than in his picture. Smelled better, too. She focused on climbing the ladder. Okay, she thought, time to fantasize about Lane later.
She made it to Terry's small balcony and pushed herself to the wall, peeking into the apartment through the sliding glass door. No one. Empty. She looked to the door latch. It was sprung up. Unlocked.
Bingo.
She slid the heavy glass door open a foot and slipped inside. Everything was the same, the kitchen and living room clean, but with a lived-in feel. The apartment was quiet, and she had to fight the urge to thumb through the photo book on the coffee table. Instead she headed for the bathroom.
She paused, looking at the closed toilet lid in the bathroom. He even kept it closed when it was just him living there? She sighed. Julia was right. Terry was perfect.
She opened the mirrored medicine cabinet, then looked at her reflection for a moment. Weren't vampires supposed to be unable to show up properly in a mirror? Or was that werewolves?
With shaky fingers she opened the cabinet again, her eyes going over the usual items. She took out a tube of cream—mysterious cream—and looked to the name. Topical Tyrosine cream. She looked with confusion at the words, until she read the back of the tube. 'For increased natural melanin characteristics. Use sparingly. Avoid ingesting carrots when using this product,' the label read.
She frowned, then replaced the tube. Beside it were small foil wrapped packets of—she held her breath, dreading—but they were individually wrapped packets of something else, called HemoPatch. The word made her feel ill, and she almost wished they had been nicotine patches. Or condoms.
She reached for two prescription bottles. Both were made out to Terry, both from Dakmarr-Moore. One was marked Anti-alicyn, recommended use for garlic consumption; the other was called HelioSee. She looked at the dosing directions. 'Take one to two tablets when chances of being exposed to direct sunlight. Warning: Never look directly into sun.'
Her fingers began trembling. What kind of prescriptions were these? She'd never heard of anything like them before, and—
The front door opened in the living room.
Sylvia nearly dropped the bottles into the sink at the sound. Her mind froze as she carefully set the bottles back in the cabinet and quietly closed it. She looked to the open bathroom door, hoping he'd go into the kitchen before the bedroom.
Her thoughts screeched to a stop. That wouldn't help her. She had to go to the kitchen, too.
She remained immobile as footsteps approached down the hall, normally-paced steps, not hesitant. She tried to recall if she'd shut the balcony door before she'd headed for the bathroom.
Terry passed by the bathroom without pausing.
Sylvia felt her heart drop into her shoes. She remained motionless, hearing him in the bedroom, whistling lowly now. Her eyes focused on the mirror, which was now at an angle from where she stood. The bottom edge had a small flap hanging loose near the corner, as if a whisper thin film was covering the glass.
She frowned, putting one fingernail to the loose edge, lifting just a few millimeters to see a clear film that spread out over the mirror. It pulled loose as she moved her finger, and she immediately stopped, her shaky finger smoothing down the film. So that was it.
Down the hall Terry's whistling had lowered, his movements making only muted sounds now from the bedroom.
Sylvia edged closer to the door and peeked down the hall. She could see his shadow in the next room, the sound of a zipper being pulled. A sick feeling welled in her stomach, but she tiptoed into the hall and angled her head to see into the bedroom.
He was at the bureau, one long shirt sleeve pulled up, a rubber band encircling his bicep, the other hand holding a needle syringe to his forearm below. His face was pale, dark around his eyes, drawn-looking, as she'd seen him the night of Brian's party.
Sylvia caught her breath as she backed away. Terry turned, looking at her in surprise, and her eyes grew wide in horror at the set of well-shaped fangs jutting from his upper teeth.
Unmistakably vampire fangs.
She wasn't sure if she screamed or not as she flung herself down the hall, rushing for the front door—forget the English book—and wrapped her hands around the doorknob.
Terry's large hand grabbed her wrist and he pulled her around to face him. "Where do you think you're going, Sylvia?"
"No! Let me go!"
"Not so fast."
She looked up at his face, her eyes falling over the fangs, his blanched pallor, the hollow look to his eyes. His shirt sleeve was still rolled up, the rubber band dangling at his arm.
His hand relaxed a bit on her wrist, the hold less bruising, and before her eyes, his face turned back to its normal tan shade, his eyes losing their dark circles. She cringed, sinking away until her back was against the door, watching as the long eyeteeth shrunk in seconds, regaining their usual shape. He smiled at her.
"You're a vampire!" she sputtered. Her back pressed harder, her pulse rocketing through her wrists.
He looked down at his fingers around her wrist. "Your heartbeat is incredible." He grinned, lowering her arm, but not releasing it. "Little Sylvia," he said, his voice taking on a musical lilt. "Vampires? Is that what they teach you in school?"
"I saw you. I saw y-you . . . and all the stuff you have."
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and then he released her hand, but leaned closer. "You saw nothing."
She focused on him, his face only inches from hers. "I saw everything."
"No. No. Repeat after me, Sylvia, dear sister of the woman I love. You saw nothing."
She blinked a few times, watching as he moved a foot away and took the band off his arm. "You love Julia?"
He nodded, the warm smile back on his face. He unrolled the shirt sleeve and turned it back over his arm. "You didn't know?"
She shook her head, putting her fingers to her temple as she felt lightheaded. "B-But I saw you with—"
"No." He put one hand on the door beside her head, looking her over carefully for a long moment. "I thought I smelled someone. You do have a scent, you know. A very light, pleasant scent. I know someone else has noticed, too." He looked at the alarm in her face. "It's not a bad thing, Sylvia. Everyone has a smell. All men can smell women; most of them just don't know it. You smell like strawberries."
She shook her head as he grinned at her.
"You saw nothing. You were mistaken about anything you think you saw." A somberness came back to his dark eyes as they dropped over her face for a moment, lingering on her lips before rising to her eyes again. "Do you understand me?"
She swallowed, unevenly nodding.
He smiled and stood back. "Good. Good that we understand each other. Now, I'll drive you home."
Thanks to Sakurapu for sharing her story!
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