First, I own nothing to do with True Blood. I'm still fairly new to fanfiction, so this is an experimentation of sorts. Feel free to let me know if this is something you would like more of :-) I am still working on my other story; I just wanted to attempt a story in first person point of view. Hope you enjoy! :-)
It wasn't usually something Tara and I would do. Never did we dream we would ever be heading out to a notorious vampire bar named Fangtasia for the night. But living in a small town like Bon Temps, where there isn't much excitement to be had, you'd find yourself wishing for more and daring to break out of old routine. So, that was why we ended up at Fangtasia tonight.
Tara and I were instantly carded by a female vampire. She looked Tara up and down in her dress, with frightening interest. Frightening, to me anyhow. Tara was all smiles. Tara wasn't exactly a lesbian. I guess you would consider her a bisexual. She played for both teams, and she enjoyed experimenting. I often found myself wishing I was like her, in that sense.
After hearing thoughts non-stop for a little over fifteen years, silence was pretty much a rarity for me; a luxury. Now I was wondering why it had taken me so long to visit this vampire bar. It was complete and utter heaven. Sure, it wasn't completely noise-free. Several of the patrons in the bar tonight were humans, and their thoughts mostly consisted of sex, booze, and more sex.
But then, somewhere... in this bar, there was this amazing silence radiating from in one of the rooms. Probably the restroom. And as a young girl who'd had to put up with it most of her life, she gravitated towards that marvellous silence naturally like metal to a magnet. Ordinarily, I wouldn't actively seek it- especially not in a dangerous vampire bar, of all places, because I was positive there had to be certain underlying risks.
But, as for tonight... I want to be daring, and experience something new.
I sought it out eagerly. It was coming from in one of the rooms opposite the dance floor.
I step through the door without knocking.
Curiosity well and truly killed the cat. There is a vampire in here. Though most I couldn't immediately spot it, unless I took the time to attempt to hear their thoughts, and realized I couldn't, with this one, I instantly could. There is just something noticeably different about him; A certain glowing pallor to his complexion.
He is lying back in a tan leather recliner chair, cell phone pressed to his ear. He blinks at me in complete surprise, then stands. He's magnificently tall, at around over six-foot. And very, very attractive. Like in GQ male model standards, dressed in a fine grey pin-striped suit jacket and trousers. Underneath the jacket, he wears a button-up black shirt. The top buttons are undone and I can catch a whole lot of chest. His blonde hair is combed back, neat, and slick at the sides. His blue eyes are brightly lit in earnest surprise and anticipation for me. Something tells me I'm not so much of an unwanted interruption, after all. Oops. Good lord, what have I just unknowingly walked into?
"You are mistaken, your Magister. No, I am not aware of the situation. No, not at all." He doesn't take his eyes off me as he saunters forward. There is a certain confident bounce to the way he walks, a bit like a leopard ready to devour his prey whole. Am I his prey or what? "I will deal with it. Thank you for informing me." He holds the door widely open, and beckons me inside briskly with his free hand. Boy, for a vampire, he's pretty accommodating.
And the silence. Amazing. Incredible. All the good words in the book.
He closes the door behind me. I hear the lock click into place. Crap, shit.
"No, I have not. If it is something occurring in my area, I will deal with it myself. You know I always do." At that, a small smile slips arrogantly in place on his lips. He nods at me, and winks. Then he indicates for me to unbutton the collar of my blouse. Wait- what? "No, as far as I am aware of, this wasn't happening here. We are firm advocates of mainstreaming." His face darkens as he gives me a good once-over. All right, now this was getting fishy. He directs me to sit on his desk with two fingers. Then, without warning whatsoever, he starts unbuttoning his jacket. Holy hell. What on earth have I walked into? Seriously! "Yes, I will get right on it, your Magister. Goodnight." At that, he hangs up and tosses his phone carelessly at the wall across from where he's standing, and looks me over again.
Something tells me I've been mistaken as a vampire prostitute. Do vampires even hire prostitutes?
He cocks his head to the side, tears his jacket off his shoulders, and mumbles, quite appreciatively, "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. How old are you? Eighteen? At least I'll get to experience something fresh and exotic."
Oookay. Something tells me its time to speak and put things back into their rightful place. Clearly, he has mistaken me for somebody else. But then he is staring right into my eyes, in an intensely hungry and thoughtful kind of way. He drapes his jacket over his desk and brings his hands out in front of him to the buttons on his black dressy shirt. He licks his lips slowly, as he starts with the buttons. My eyes are instantly drawn to his mouth. Those lips... Fangs. Two glistening fangs. Holy shit. And then he resumes slowly, taking off his shirt, letting the fabric fall from his broad, muscular shoulders until he stands before me half-naked. He's heart-stoppingly toned and delicious. Hot damn. What on earth is going on here?
"What type are you?" he suddenly asks, and I haven't the slightest clue what he means.
"Uh, pardon?" I don't know whether to laugh, or whether to be scared for my life.
"No matter," he breathes, stepping forward. "We will learn quickly, won't we? The first sip always reveals all."
My stomach lurches, as I finally grasp sense of the strange situation. Jesus. Shepard of Judea. This vamp assumes I'm a Fangbanger. Self-consciously, I run my hand over my neck. Do I seriously look like one? Jesus!
"Eager little one, aren't we?" he says softly, amusedly.
Staring deeply into my eyes all the while, he stands in front of me, and I'm almost hypnotised by how deep and blue his eyes are. Gorgeous eyes, right there. Yum. He starts unbuttoning the top buttons of my blouse, then slides the fabric back over my shoulders. Then he reaches up gently, and runs the ice-cold tip of his fingers along my jaw, and underneath my chin. Then, he lifts my head, and directs my gaze to the wall opposite me. He gathers my hair in his hands, pulls it away from the side of my neck, and its then I well and truly start panicking.
I am not a fangbanger. In fact, I've never understood the appeal, or craze at all. As for now, I was scared shitless.
I squirm uncomfortably when I catch out of the corner of my eye, this tall blonde vampire bending down. Crap. He's so close to my neck, I can almost feel him breathing all over me.
"Stop, please!" I'm quaking like a leaf all over. My hands, my legs- everywhere- is shaking. "This is a huge misunderstanding! I'm not what you think I am! I'm not here for... that. I came here tonight, because my friend wanted to. We wanted to see what it was like, being in a vampire bar!" And then, I slipped up. It all came tumbling out of my mouth, but really, it had to, sooner or later. My true nineteen year-old side had to reveal itself eventually. "My best friend, Tara Thornton, is out there at the bar. She's probably finished her Gin and Tonic as we speak. I'm not a fangbanger. I'm nineteen years old. Hell, I probably shouldn't even be in here!"
I peek up at him after my explosion nervously, to find he is staring at me, frozen, stunned. Oh, boy. He doesn't look like a very pleased vampire one bit. His mouth is hanging agape, and with those fangs bared at me, it's somewhat disconcerting.
"I never expected this whole vampire thing to be so hardcore. I am not that type of girl. I was born and bred a true Christian, for goodness sake. I ain't never even so much as had sex before!"
"Pamela did not send you in for me?"
I haven't the slightest clue who this Pamela person is. "No, siree. She didn't. I just came in here simply for the, uh... silence. I never meant for this misunderstanding to happen, I swear!"
He closes his eyes and looks to be counting mentally inside his head. Once he gets past the twenty-second mark, he reopens them and turns slowly away from me. When he turns to look at me again, he's punching down a button on a machine on his desk. "Pam?" he growls, fixing me a very angry look. I almost feel on the verge of crying. He's one cheesed off, majorly intimidating vamp. A woman's bored voice squabbles on the other end of the machine, and then he swears harshly, in a foreign, unknown tongue to me. "How the fuck could this happen?" he snaps loudly, and I'm not sure whether he's actually talking to me or not. I remain silent, smiling apologetically. He keeps shooting me dirty looks, and I'd be full of shit if I said it wasn't even moderately disconcerting, added with the fang-bling.
"Look, I'm real sorry," I say gently, trying to appease the mad vamp. "But you came to that conclusion yourself, and I couldn't get the chance to explain myself." He paces around the room, then stills dramatically.
"You entered my office for the quiet?"
Oh, dammit. What have I gotten myself into? How do I explain? "Yes," I answer carefully. "It's very.. loud out there. All that... heavy metal music, and all. I needed somewhere quiet. I get terrible migraine headaches." Turns out, I was a better liar than I realized. He nodded, and it appeared that he'd swallowed up my taddle-tail whole. I was doing internal fist pumps. You go, Sookie!
"Then why did you come into my office?"
"Oh. This is your office?"
"Yes, it is. Human's are not permitted to enter in here, unless under the guidance of either Pamela or myself." Pamela. There goes that name again.
"Well, I said I was sorry," I mutter petulantly.
He ignores me, and retrieves his dressy shirt. He starts fastening up the buttons to regain a sense of modesty, and I consider leaving, but clearly, he doesn't want that. I go to step towards the door, and he cuts me off, standing directly in front of me; his shirt still halfway unbuttoned and hanging loosely off his white skin. I gulp, because it doesn't take much for him to look threatening.
"Don't leave. You are not dismissed yet." His voice is stern. He's very much talking at me as if I'm a child. Charming. "Pamela is on her way. We will get to the gist of this issue. This is not acceptable."
"All righty then." I try to sound confident, but my voice fails me. What did that mean? Did getting to the gist of this issue entail murdering me? Hell, if I know.
I try to distract myself, in inspecting his office. It's far too big and spacious for just one man. Or one vamp, more correctly. His taste in decorating is very... different. He has what looks like a bristly, brown bear-skin rug on the carpet. Dismally, I wonder where the head is. The wall opposite the door is covered completely in Fangtasia posters. One depicts a shot of a skinny, busty girl in a bikini with blood trailing down her neck. Very tasteful. Across his desk, there is what looks like a rusty old sword hanging on the wall. The handle has markings on the iron, in intricate little detail.
"Viking," the vamp grunts, catching the direction of my curious gaze.
"Cool. You got any of those weird horned hats, too?" I say it, mostly intended as a joke. But I can tell he doesn't quite see it that way. He shakes his head, and his jaw clenches, in disapproval. Oops. I guess vampires lack a sense of humour. This one certainly does.
The silence in the room is awkward. He doesn't talk much, at all. After a while, I hear him sigh. I gather enough courage to look at him. He has his eyes closed tightly. A set of fingers are pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where the fuck is she? What's keeping her?" he mutters gruffly. Again, I don't know whether he's actually speaking to me or not. "Pam?" He shouts so unexpectedly at the wall, and the frustration radiating off him is palpable. "Fuck it. If she refuses to come to me, we will go to her."
And then he reaches over, and grabs me by the hand roughly. I squeak out a groan of protest. He drags me out of the room - his office?- and pulls me along with him. The dance floor is very crowded. I search for Tara, and I realize she's stuck in conversation with the female vamp who carded us before. She's smiling coyly, and nodding, and I immediately recognize that look. The female vamp is eyeing her with avid interest. Hot damn. Tara's totally winning her over. How... weird.
Inward fist pump. You go, Tara!
However, the vamp gripping my hand doesn't look as pleased as I feel. His mouth presses into a tight, grim line. He's eyeing both girls with rage. Are vampires usually this angry? Jesus.
He then says something to himself - something I can't catch over the music and tenour of thoughts from everybody inside the bar's heads- and turns to look at me with determined resolution in his expression. "Look in my eyes," he orders down at me, and because he looks so irritated, I just do so immediately. He places his other hand on my shoulder, staring at me directly. "What happened in the office, it never did, all right, Human? No one can know of this."
Um, all right. What the hell was that all about?
"Sure." I swallow thickly. "Whatever you say, Mister." I salute him like he's a sergeant and I'm his toy-soldier.
He rolls his eyes, and then tugs me towards where Tara is sitting, deep in conversation with the female vamp. What a total control freak. God.
His clutch on my hand tightens as we arrive at the bar. The two girls still awkwardly in conversation. The female vampire drags her eyes over to the blonde, tall male innocently.
"Not happy, Pam," he shouts at her over the heavy music.
Her impassive face cracks slowly into sincere confusion. She leans over. "What's the matter with you? You look shitty. Why are you shitty?"
"Oh, it is charming of you to be so ignorant."
"You need to loosen up, Eric."
"Do I?" Jesus, he won't quit yelling. He's so overbearing. "What is your job here, Pam? Do I pay you hourly to eye-fuck the human patrons? No! I pay you to do your job!"
I can sense an argument of epic proportions brewing between the two. The female vamp, she stares at him in disbelief, before an expression of intense anger crosses her features, matching his. Yeah, some shits going down. "Why make a fucking scene, Eric?"
I give his hand a sharp tug. "Hey!" I cut in before he can manage to get a word out. "This lady here is right. You need to cool off, Mister!"
He stares at me like I've grown another head.
"In fact, you're coming with me right now!"
Tara gives me a thankful look; She's not finished flirting with the female vamp yet.
"What?" He looks confused, helpless, and lost, when I drag him to the dance floor. "What is this?"
I clutch onto the top of his shoulders with my hands, squeezing down roughly. "You're dancing with me tonight, Mister!"
"I don't dance. I never do. I have a reputation to uphold here."
"Well, tonight you do!" Where did my confidence come from? Because I do not know myself. The vampire is still angry and frustrated, when I force him to move with me a bit. It takes a lot of work to move his shoulders back and forth in time to the rock music. He's so stiff and rigid. Honestly, he looks like he'd rather be doing anything else other than dancing with me. He's staring down at me with such sheer hatred, it wouldn't have surprised me if he decided to kill me right on the spot. Too bad.
"I don't dance with the humans! I never do!"
"You are so uptight," I say to him loudly through the music.
"This is debasing."
I roll my eyes. While I'm not the best dancer in the world, I think I do all right. I work with what I've got. I slide one hand off his shoulder and place it around his back. He's looking past my head, his hands hanging limply at my sides. I wrap a hand through his, and guide it up to my hip. He notices what I've done at once, and eyes me with a distinguishable amount of distaste. I almost laugh. The tight and stern look on his face is comical. After a while of tentative moving, he gets into it- the tiniest bit, at least. He steps side to side, all the while refusing to even acknowledge me. It's like he thinks I'm forcing him into something torturous. Pity, really, because I'm totally dancing my ass off without a care in the world. I'm swaying my hips, tossing my hair around my shoulders, and all. A girl just wants to let loose, now and then. A vampire ought to do the same. Too bad he thinks he's too macho and strong, for that.
"You suck," I inform him, laughing.
It's obvious he mistakes that for something else. He nods. "Yes. Yes, I do."
This vampire was plain and simply incensed at being forced into dancing with a human girl, like me.
"Not like that. You just need to loosen up a whole lot! Live a little!"
I did something then: Something I never, ever thought I would catch myself doing. I reach down between us, and grope his crotch with my hand. He takes in a deep breath in shock, and then, magically, I discovered my indecent touching was more than enough to cause this one to loosen up once and for all. If only I knew just what I was getting myself into ahead of time, and just who this vamp was, in all his prominence. But I will learn soon enough.