Chapter Text
You were sitting on your living room couch with your head in your hands, laptop on the coffee table in front of you. Lines of the article you were writing stared up at you from off the screen. It felt like it was missing something, but you couldn’t figure out what. The words just seemed to be going in one eye and out the other. You really needed to get this finished. It was 4am, and you were supposed to submit it to the magazine in only a few short hours. With your current state of mind, you weren’t making much progress.
You loved your job as a freelance writer. So far it was your favorite out of the many, many careers you’d had during your supernatural lifespan. You got to work from home and set your own hours, and you never needed to interact with others in person. It was the ideal situation for a vampire such as yourself. The best part was the writing, though. You loved how it kept your mind active, always learning, searching for and finding inspiration for different pieces. It was also your favorite way to express yourself. Lately though, it had been quite difficult to concentrate or come up with ideas, and you weren’t enjoying it nearly as much as you used to.
Sighing in frustration, you laid face down on the couch, head resting on your folded arms as you stared off into space. Was this really your life? Was this what it had come to after half a century? Being a shut-in with no friends, living in a crappy apartment in the worst part of town, and getting all your entertainment from Netflix and video games? Being a soulless vampire meant you were going to have a terrible afterlife, so why couldn’t you figure out how to live happily in this cursed half-life you still had?
Up until recently, you’d had extravagant living conditions. Money accumulates well when you’re around for hundreds of years. Even with all of that you had become bored, and for excitement you had decided to bet it all away in a game of poker. Odd as it seemed, it hadn’t really been that reckless of a decision. You’d been well-aware of what you were risking and decided you didn’t care, even going far enough as to hope you’d lose. Possessions just didn’t do it for you anymore. You really weren’t a gambler, but you’d thought maybe a change of pace would be good for you.
So now here you were in this small, rundown apartment. If anything, it made you feel worse than before. The walls were paper thin, allowing you to hear all of your neighbor’s activities, from opening and closing cupboards to snoring. There were stains all over the dingy carpet and walls, and it perpetually smelled, though of what you really couldn’t tell. You’d lived in worse though, and while you could’ve afforded a slightly nicer place, with this one you had more money left over to save and begin to re-amass your wealth. But…
There was one question that constantly consumed your thoughts: did any of it really matter? You had lived for so long, done this for so long, that it all seemed the same. Nothing seemed to satisfy you anymore. Nothing meant anything anymore. Not even your own life. In fact, if you were to vanish, the world would be a better place without you preying on innocent humans for survival. You were such a monster.
No, not a monster, you had to remind yourself. You had been trying to rid yourself of using that term in that way ever since the monster race had emerged from Mt. Ebott three years ago. You didn’t know any personally, but you had interacted with enough to know they weren’t horrible, soulless creatures like vampires. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but harmless enough. They had been integrating into human society (albeit slowly), unlike your kind who still hid in the shadows behind myth and legend.
If vampires were to ever come out into the open, you were sure it would end in their destruction. There’s no way people would ever accept a race that preyed upon them, just like rabbits would never live with wolves. You had experienced it many times in the past as you opened up to close friends and lovers. They had all painfully rejected you, fear and hatred burning in their eyes. Each time you naively hoped things would turn out differently, hoped that maybe your love and friendship was strong enough for them to look past your nature and accept you. But every such time you had hoped in vain.
After many years, you had finally turned to your own kind for companionship, only to find that the few who were left preferred to live solitarily with no attachments. You had always craved deep and meaningful relationships, needing to feel accepted, loved, and wanted, and to give the same in return. However, over the last hundred years or so you’d given up hope of ever finding anything like that. That kind of happiness wasn’t meant for a creature as vile as you.
Your eyes began to burn with tears. Frustrated by your emotions, you reached over to your laptop and opened up your music library. At times when you were feeling this way (which recently had become more and more often), music helped to drown out your negative thoughts. You queued up the playlist that consisted mostly of wordless, upbeat dance/techno music and turned up your speakers. As you lay on the couch, you allowed the beats to pulse through your body, feeling the edge of your pain ebb away as you cleared your mind and focused on the rhythm.
After a long moment, you felt like you could focus enough to return to your article. You had just sat up and were about to start where you left off when you heard banging on the wall connecting you and your neighbor’s apartments.
“yo! keep it down in there! ‘m tryin’a sleep!” you heard a deep, gruff voice shout.
You winced. Cuss! You were so used to living in a house that it totally slipped your mind that your loud music would bother anyone. At least your apartment was at the end of the row, so he was the only one it would affect. You had only lived in this apartment a week and had never met or seen the guy, but you sure weren’t making a great impression.
You sheepishly lowered the volume and turned back to your article. As you read it over, inspiration hit you and you began typing. Before you could get even a full sentence down, you were interrupted by more banging.
“i can still hear it, ya jerkwad!”
Stupid thin walls, you thought as you lowered the music to where you could barely hear it. You resumed typing but don’t get very far before your focus starts to fade. Augh! Without the loud music to blanket your emotions, you wouldn’t be able to get this done.
…
Wait a second. Why did you even care what your neighbor thought of you? If he knew you, he’d hate you anyways, so why bother?
Screw him. You really needed to concentrate. Thanks to that new wave of inspiration, it would only take a good ten more minutes to finish, and then he could have all the silence he wanted. You cranked up the speakers again and got back to work.
After a few minutes, you heard music coming from your neighbor’s wall. At first it was pretty faint, but then you could clearly discern the heavy drums and guitar. Was that Linkin Park? You smirked. You liked Linkin Park. Admittedly though, it wasn’t great when combined with techno. You turned the volume higher and kept typing.
A couple terribly mashed songs later, the article was finally finished and submitted. You sighed satisfactorily and shut off your laptop. Rock music was still blaring from the wall. You briefly wondered if it was bothering the apartment on the opposite side.
Yawning, you got up and walked back to your room to get ready for bed. Looking at the clock, it was only 5am. You didn’t usually go to bed this early. The sun wasn’t even out yet. Lately for some reason, you had been more tired than usual. It wasn’t like you had a reason to stay up anyway.
After getting ready, you flopped down on your bed, staring at the window. You had taped tin foil over the glass to block out the light. The sun must’ve started rising, because there was a soft golden glow around the edges. And your neighbor was still playing music. It didn’t bother you, but wasn’t he trying to sleep? Maybe petty revenge was more worth it to him or something. Whatever. It wasn’t your problem.
__________
You woke up at 5:30pm to a silent apartment. You wondered what time the music had finally shut off as you got out of bed and stretched.
As you walked into the bathroom to shower, you felt a dry ache in your throat. It meant that you needed to feed soon, but… didn’t you just do that five days ago? Usually you went at least a full week between feedings. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, what hasn’t been wrong with you lately? You stopped in front of the mirror, staring blankly at your reflection. Despite everything, it’s still you.
After your shower, you plopped down on the couch and opened up Netflix on your laptop. You needed something to pass the time while you waited for it to get dark enough to go out. As you were browsing through some of the newer titles, someone started to pound on your door.
“Who is it?” you called out, twisting around on the couch to face the door. If it was someone you knew, you weren’t opening it. With your thirst as unpredictable as it was right now, you didn’t know if you would be able to control it, and you didn’t like biting people you knew. It was too risky if something went wrong. If it was a salesperson, however…
“it’s your favorite neighbor, open up.”
You recognized the gruff voice and scowled. Yep, no way you were going to “open up.”
“I’m busy!”
“i just wanna talk t’ya for a sec.”
You sighed, knowing exactly what he wanted. You just wanted him to leave. “Sorry about the music. It’s just a thing that happens.”
“whaddaya mean it’s just a thing that happens?”
“I mean, it’s just a thing that happens.”
“lady, ya better not be screwin’ with me.” His voice was getting heated.
“I’m not.”
“haven’tcha ever heard’a headphones?”
“Yeah. Don’t have any.”
“like i’m gonna believe that!”
“Well I’m poor enough to live here, aren’t I?”
You thought you heard a growl.
“you’re lucky i have to go to work! we’ll continue this later, jus’… freakin’ keep your music to yourself!”
Yep, he hated you. Headphones were actually a good idea, though. Sighing, you sank back into the couch. Hopefully he would just leave you alone. You really didn’t want a confrontation. And hopefully you were better fed if he did come back.