Everyone dies. Actually, can I start that again? Everyone deserves a death. I was going to die of old age. That was the plan. Mitchell was going to go down in a blaze of gunfire and glory…. Not cold and alone and shit scared. He didn’t think death would smile at him first. Death was always a certainty. The punch line we could all see coming. But not for Mitchell. For a vampire, death isn’t the end. But the beginning.
So here we are. Overlooked and forgotten. Unnatural and… supernatural. Watching the dance from the sidelines. At least I was surrounded by friends and family. At least I got that bit right.
You know the worst thing about being a ghost? It’s lonely. You’ll give anything for that crumb of comfort. That feel of skin against skin that says, “It’s okay. I’m here.” It’s a hunger. The most basic instinct. You might even drag others into this world of the dead. Even if it means turning them into monsters too.
Then there are the ones like George. The ones that should have died. But shattered and bloody, they walk away from the train wreck. But what’s the cost? They’re scarred. Transformed. They’re monsters now too. Aberrations. The stuff of nightmares. The big bad wolf.
So. What have we got left to look forward to? Us refugees? The flotsam and jetsam of death. Maybe, if we still deserve such a thing as mercy, we find each other..
Being Human
