Available Darkness Season 1

Abigail.

    Lydia’s older sister, Vicky, took her pink dolly away from her. “She’s mine!” Lydia was hurt. Then, another memory, of Larry and she, in bed. Larry was casually puffing on a cigarette while drawing lazy circles on Lydia’s breasts with his fingers and whispering odes to her beauty. Then, Abigail watched, through Lydia’s eyes, as her boyfriend, Tony bloodied his knuckles against an unmoving wall. Lydia was afraid…

    Darkness then extinguished the memory.
    The energy stopped flowing and Abigail sat, hunched over, staring at the charred corpse beneath her.
    Lydia’s memories continued to flicker like a strobe light in Abigail’s mind, threading through her own images of yesterday, weaving all thoughts into one incomprehensible tapestry.

    Lydia as a girl again, this time walking to school, alone. She was fiercely proud not to need an escort. A big girl now. Though school was only two short blocks away, you’d think it was two miles, the way her mom kept carrying on. Lydia had made it almost all the way to school when she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned just in time to see her mom, about half a block behind her, ducking behind a car. Lydia flared. “Mom, how could you?”

    Grief clawed at her throat as Abigail experienced and mourned Lydia’s life, which had been reduced to moments remembered in dying gasps.
    As cruel as it was, Abigail’s body had never felt more alive, but the intoxication of power did nothing to soothe the decay she felt in her mind and soul. She wanted to weep, but no tears would come. Sadness washed over her, as another flood of memories seeped through her system. She struggled to focus on the present. Then, she heard a familiar voice — John!
    She stood and turned, desperate for sanctuary from the darkness swallowing her.
    John’s back was turned to her as he stood over Larry. They appeared to have been fighting. She noted the gun on the floor behind Larry. He noticed her first, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened. Then, John turned to her; a cold sadness sculpted his face.
    She struggled to push words from her mouth.
    “What happened?” she finally managed.
    “You were hurt,” John said, as he cautiously approached her, “You were dying. And I… saved you.” He looked at the ground. “But I turned you into… this .”
    Abigail flinched as she remembered the pain that had shattered her insides. She’d been shot. Panic pounded through her body as she noticed the blooms of dark crimson, which stained the front of her shirt, coated her hands and blackened her fingernails. She pulled up her shirt, searching for wounds, and then reached back with her fingers in an awkward search for any sign of puncture.
    “You’re all healed,” John said.
    Suddenly, Abigail became conscious of her exposed flesh, pulled her shirt down, and glanced down at the ground.
    “I am so sorry,” John said, his voice quaking, “it was the only thing I could do to save you.”
    “So,” she hesitated before finishing the sentence, “I’m a vampire now?”
    John turned to Larry for an answer.
    “In short, yes,” Larry fixed his stare on Abigail, “you likely have the same abilities and same weaknesses as John.”
    “You mean,” she flicked her eyes at Lydia, “I’ll have to do that again?”
    Larry looked down and pursed his lips. His chest surrendered into a sigh, and nodded.
    Abigail shook her head, slowly at first, then furiously from side to side.
    “No, no, no! I can’t do that again!”
    Her knees hit the concrete. Tears were only seconds behind.
    John knelt beside Abigail, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She flinched at first, then realized his touch was no longer a danger to her. They were, after all, now the same. A small wave of relief fluttered through her body and caused her to shudder.
    She was finally able to root into the embrace of her angel. So strong, so comforting. The opposite of every other touch she’d experienced in her recent history.
    Abigail continued to cry.
    “It’ll be okay,” John whispered into her ear, brushing the damp hair from her face. “I’m here for you.”
    She thought he might also be crying, but couldn’t bear to look up. She nuzzled her head into his chest and allowed the tears to flow as she pondered a future of killing to survive. Then, she thought of the sun she would never see again. Years locked away from the world in a closet, rarely seeing sunlight. Now, she’d never see it