Page 1 of Blood Lust

Chapter One

I sit in the witness box with my head bowed, hands clasped loosely before me. I feel like I’m in a confessional. The defense attorney circles me, studying me like I’m some specimen under glass.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sucked my girlfriend dry.

The thought almost makes me chuckle, but I keep it inside. I know my fate rests with this slick bastard pacing in front of me, even though I hate everything about him. He’s everything I’m not: polished, confident, good-looking. One of those kids who had it easy in school while I got my ass kicked daily.

The crowd is silent. So silent I actually hear a pin drop, clattering on the polished tiles. They’re not holding their breath for the attorney, though. They’re spellbound by me. The killer. The freak. The American Vampire, as the press dubbed me.

The attorney removes his glasses dramatically (he always does everything dramatically) and speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. This is his big moment too. This case will make his career.

“Aaron, you have been found guilty of the murder of Annie Hox. Now a new jury must decide your punishment. In particular, they will decide if you are worth more alive than dead. The ball is in your court, Aaron.”

I continue staring down at my hands. I learned long ago never to trust anyone, especially not to open up to anyone. Now, sitting here for all the world to see, I feel uneasy at best. The uncomfortable chair doesn’t help either.

As I shift again, the lead defender pauses in front of me, smelling of expensive cologne and looking like he’s enjoying himself. I hate him. I hate most people, but I especially hate myown attorney. He looks like the older version of all the kids in school who made fun of me.

I never had it easy. Ever.

Despite myself, I inhale deeply, drawing in his cologne. I’ve always had a thing for scents and smells. All my senses feel highly attuned. Especially my sense of taste.

I look past my attorney, my small, darting eyes finding the faces in the courtroom beyond. Hundreds of faces: family members, friends, media, the damn curious. Expressions ranging from revulsion to amusement to horror. All staring at me. Every one of them.

Just another freak show.

As I gaze at the crowd, I do what I always do, what many have noticed throughout this outrageous trial: I open my mouth, just a little, and the tip of my tongue pokes out as I unconsciously run it back and forth along my upper incisors. I do this for perhaps ten seconds.

Then I open my mouth a little more, as I always do. Now my roaming tongue stops at my massive canines, teeth that project down from my upper jaw like mighty ivory stalactites. My tongue slides down one of the freakishly long stalactites, the right one, down this massive fang, stopping finally at the tip. There it pauses, and like an elephant’s curious trunk, gently taps the tip of the tooth. Taps it hesitantly, as if testing it. Taps it carefully, as if fearful of it. Taps it again and again and again...

“Aaron, can you please recount for the court the events that led to the killing of Annie Hox?”

My long tongue retracts like a frightened turtle and my lips slam shut. I turn my attention away from a frowning older woman sitting in the second row, a woman who seems to be staring at me almost sideways, as if afraid to look the devil in the eye. I settle my gaze onto the smooth-shaven face of the defense attorney.

“Where would you like me to begin?” I ask shyly, speaking in such a way that my lips barely move, completely concealing my teeth.

“At the beginning,” he says.

“The beginning... was a long time ago.”

“Remember, Aaron, this is a new jury. They haven’t heard your case.”

I chuckle softly. “All they had to do was turn on the TV.”

“Please, Aaron, just tell us your story.”

I inhale deeply and motion vaguely to my mouth. “I suppose it all started when they grew in.”

“They, Aaron?”

“My teeth, of course.”

Chapter Two

“Thank you, Aaron, now will you please display your teeth to the jury?”

My pulse quickens. I’m always aware of my own pulse. Vigilantly aware. It quickens now because showing my teeth goes against every instinct I have. Showing my teeth inspires questions. Showing my teeth induces ridicule. Showing my teeth has often gotten me beat up, and worse.

“Please, Aaron, this is important.”

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