At least I have a few moments to myself. I’m not hungry, we gorged ourselves on those cocktail waitresses last night and then compelled them not to remember.
Life as a vampire is full of overindulgence. Anything I want, I can have it with a single word slipping out of my lips, yet something is missing and I don’t know what it is.
The fair is boasting, a small child is shoving his face with Cracker Jacks and I almost wish I could taste the sweet treat. I don’t particularly miss food or crave it, but I miss some of my humanity.
I can feel myself losing it, with no direction on how to get it back, or if that’s even possible.
Life as a vampire is different, and I need to accept my new normal.
A pink tent stands in the distance, glittering lights covering the outside. The word ‘Fortune’ is embroidered in gold and something beckons me to the tent.
Surely it’s some human making a quick buck off the insecurity of mortals. Who wouldn’t want to know what their future holds? Even I, an immortal being, wants to know what awaits me in this exceptionally long life.
I approach the tent and cautiously look around, making sure no vampires are watching as the silk fans my fingertips as I pull it back. The moment I do, an earth-shattering headache wrecks my brain. My hands come up to my head and I want to scream but can’t.
“What are you doing in my tent, vampire?” a voice asks, the headache subsiding for a blissful moment.
Definitely not a human. When I glance up at the slender woman with short dark hair, she glares at me, her wand in her hand.
Vampires don’t fuck with witches, and I just strolled into this one’s tent.
“Here I thought I was going to have my fortune read,” I groan, giving the woman a smile.
She rolls her eyes.
“Vampires aren’t welcome here,” she says, giving me her back, unafraid as she sits back down at her crystal ball.
For some stupid reason, maybe to fucking feel something, I sit down across from her.
“Is the crystal ball all for show? Or does it actually do something?” I ask.
The witch lights her cigarette with magic, the cigarette holder floating in the air as she takes a huff, smoke flowing out of the side of her mouth.
“For show. Do you need to be told more aggressively to get the fuck out?” she says, another unbothered huff of her cigarette.
“Tell me my fortune and I’ll leave.”
“How does one tell the fortune of someone without a soul? Without a heartbeat? What is the fate of the dead?” she says, shuffling tarot cards with her hands, always keeping eye contact with me, her wand in immediate reach.
“Surely I still have a soul?” I ask, unsure.
Her inhale of her cigarette is dramatic, her dark eyes on me.
“Nothing I’ve seen of vampires proves otherwise. Always willing to hurt whoever you need to in order to get what you want. Why would I do anything for you?”
“Because I’m a paying customer?”
She arches an eyebrow and I place a substantial amount of cash on the counter, probably more than she makes in a week at the fair. She clicks her tongue and nods.
“What do you want to know, vampire?”
“Is there something more worth living for?” I ask, being completely blunt.
She shuffles her cards, shifting them between her two hands.
“The price has gone up,” she says. “A vial of your blood, some of it needed for the spell.”
“What will you do with it?” I question.
