A Vampire Magical Woman and the Concept of Perception
I can feel the weight of their horror. I'd seen looks of horror throughout my unlife, usually that of hunters or townspeople terrified of the beast. Their horror was different. It was born of…friendship? They accepted my more gothic appearance, my pale skin without much more than a shrug. If anything, their leader, the brunette, had been stealing glances at my fangs throughout the last few battles. Most of the time, I was able to retreat before detransforming, hiding how it hurt. This time, the four had chased after me, cornering me in an alleyway as I felt the outfits fade. They saw the real me, a creature of the night.
But that wasn't where their horror came from. Their horror didn't come from the sight of a vampiric creature, no it came from how it hurt. They saw the way my shoulders slouched forward, the hoodie I was hurriedly pulling on to help hide my slender and gaunt frame. My red pupils stared at the others. The warmth, touched me. Their concern for my wellbeing, and I hadn't spoken a word, only stared back. Shock, mostly. The fact their transformations didn't hurt, and that they were perturbed mine did, threw me for a loop. I stood there, the rain beginning to fall, as the storm that had gathered during our match against some…that was a sentient stop sign. Seriously, what the fuck. Anyways, the rain falling helped hide my tears. But the brunette…Cinder was her name, I think, she stepped forward, and when she spoke, it was gentle.
"…So that's why you run away, because entering and leaving the transformations hurt, and you don't want anyone to see it? The hoodie is a pretty good giveaway, and now that we know the fangs are normal, not tied to your transformations, I think that answers a lot of our own questions and theories." One of the others, a blonde haired girl, fistbumped another and whispered 'called it, you owe me fifteen bucks, told you she's one of us.' My eyes flickered to the whispering duo, my hearing still as good as ever. The perks of a supernatural lifestyle, even if it could be a curse at times. I almost missed the leader shooting a glare at the others, before her words came back to my ears, I realized she'd been talking more.
"-disregard the others. I'm sorry. So to make sure we're all on the same page, you're a magical girl like us, though given we're all adult women, the term feels a bit…eh. You're seemingly a vampire, a classy vampire lady, but that doesn't explain quite why it hurts. I mean, you're not suffering from some sort of burning or negation of what makes you you when you transform, so I'm assuming its more the physical shifting, mixed with what, emotional distress?" Her tone is soft, kind, and she's ignoring the fact the falling rain is soaking into her uniform…wait no its water proof? Huh, neat. Her comment about emotional distress makes me pause again, my tongue slowly working its way back and forth from one fang to other in my upper jaw. Something I did instinctively, like curling and uncurling my taloned fingers at times. It takes that long for my mind to hear what she'd called me, "a classy vampire lady." That caught me off guard even more. Even now that the transformations had faded, and I was…the me I'd been for centuries, flat as a washboard as some would have called it in ages gone by, the missing weight was yearned for. It hurt to transform and hurt to revert, as if I was touching a forbidden fruit, a dream. She's been waiting all this time, as I stand there, staring at her…forehead, specifically avoiding eyecontact. I hated doing it when I was mortal, and immortal made it even more relevant.
"…And you're struggling with eye contact, have seeming physical stims. Hoodie…clearly surprised we're seeing you as female still. Am I right so far?" I can only nod, for her words are true. I don't know where she is going with this, my donning of feminine features, no matter how much I yearned for it afterwards, was an act, yes? Merely the silly desires of an ageless creature gone mad from the weight of time.
"You've never been diagnosed, have you? I'm assuming the word didn't exist when you were young. So your hyper attention to detail, and everything else…you're a fellow autistic transwoman, who's a magical woman?" Yeah, she's lost me. I don't know what an autistic is, but…trans. I seem to recall eavesdropping on one of the fours regular hangouts, talking about the state of being trans. The look of horror on her face deepens as she watches my own reaction, the others clearly paling.
"…Oh honey, you don't know what I'm talking about…right, right. So it feels good when you're transformed, and it hurts when you have to shift back to the body you think you're stuck with, yeah? Have you ever like, tried shifting your body so it more suits what you like, outside of our transformations? Who says the female form has to be temporary for you?"
Unbidden, I feel the weight begin to return, the chest I'd forced away earlier reforming. It…it didn't hurt this time. As if perception was the key. As if I'd needed another's perspective, and their permission. No, not permission, their acceptance. I felt my hunched shoulders straighten, as the hood fell back, my bones reshaping, and the me that I was during battle…was the me they saw. Gaunt, tall, skin tight, pale as the moon, and yet, I smiled. It didn't hurt. The weight of flesh felt right. And sure I felt the need to get blood soon, but the feeling I had? It was…it was euphoria. I had no precise idea what "being trans" really meant, but trans-femme…transforming…no, transitioning? That's a word I'd heard them toss around. The idea of shifting, from one form to another, to achieve an ideal self. Now I understood.
"…And there's the egg break." Anything else was lost as the realization hit me. I didn't have to be a male vampire. I could, like others, shift freely, but I could stay in a form I chose. Make a specific shift my chosen self, the base template for my transformations. It was like a gunshot had gone off. I didn't feel the rain anymore. My hair began to grow more, swinging in the faint breeze. And my smile? My smile was beaming like the sun. And suddenly, after centuries, I felt at peace. I felt seen, understood. And then another thought occurred to me.
"OH FUCK" My curse threw the girls for a loop in shock, only for the blonde to double over laughing, her transformation fading, revealing her to be the barista I recalled she was by day. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, so this whole fucking time, for the last goddess knows how many bloody fucking eggsucking years I could be a woman? I can be girl??? And what is autistic?? Is that good??? Is my love of toy trains completely normal then???" I felt my knees going weak, as I fell back into a now forming puddle, staring up at the rain clouds, still grinning. And their leader?
"Yes dear, you're on the Autism spectrum, just like us four, and I gotta say, mood for the whole it taking ages to realize things, except for me it was like a decade, so holy shit girlie I can't begin to imagine how much it sucks realizing that. Also uh…do you need to go back to your lair/home base? Do vampires have a coffin they return to? Because sun is up in like, an hour, and if you need to get home before then…"
I wave her off, laughing. "That's an old myth, we're sunlight sensitive, but more due to being nocturnal, bright sunlight can hurt, but I know a few vampires who are absolutely the embodiment of summer energy. So yeah, fair mistake. So while I should probably get home…can I have your phone numbers?? I need to think through a lot, but having your numbers would make staying in touch easier, and…thank you. I need a support group, clearly." And with that…numbers are exchanged, wet hugs are given, and I'm pretty sure the brunette has a thing for me. A few texted links, and I'm off, back to my castle in a far off mountain range…
Its only when I'm back at the castle a day later, that I remember I was expecting my nemesis to show up. And he was due the day I had left. Oh this is gonna be a long night.
…I need a drink. And a new name. Baroness sounds better than Baron at least. Right, vampire hunter nemesis first, drink and name calling later. I wonder if he's interested in burying the hatchet.
…Come to think of it, his kids haven't shown up. I should ask. And ask if he would rather play Mario Kart 64…I need to really call my agent in Japan about that…Nintendo Switch? Is that what they call it nowadays? Oh whatever, I need to go check the courtyard for my nemesis before he breaks a bone again.
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