Standing Still Is Hard
the-masteruniverse The world spun off its axis around me, tipping and banking in a sickening kaleidoscope of color. 572 years without so much as a sniffle and suddenly I found myself confined to the bathroom. While luxurious, it wasn't the Upper East Side. No, that flat was being renovated. The weight that had long since pressed inward on my chestal cavity was gone. Shad was dead. I had been certain that revenge would fill me with comfort, satisfaction, even, but alas. All I was left with was an aching skull and a sickness I couldn't seem to sweat out. I leaned back, untangling my limbs from the porcelain handhold they had found purchase upon hours previously. Palms skittered blindly along the floor in search of my phone. What sort of cosmic design was this? Had I perhaps wracked up some bad karma exacting my thorough and somewhat violent revenge last night? No, nonsense. He had it coming. Then there was Trev. Tall, dark, handsome, and exactly the sort of steam I needed to blow to unwind from my more basic exertions, no pun intended. Digits wrapped around the plastic, tapping the familiar code out without so much as a second glance. Lex would know what to do, that much was certain. I had long ago lost the ability to cope with human trivialities such as sickness, and I wasn't about to start now. The comforting sound of the line connecting caught my attention, weary tones coming out as a groan. "LEX. Lexxxxxxxx. Problem. Shad, dead. Karma, kicking ass. And I, the 572 year old vampire, am sicker than I have ever been in my entire existence. What the hell is going on."