Forever Young

by Daniel Pierce

“What the hell?” I looked at the two women. “What’s going on here?”

  “You wouldn’t think I’m a hundred and eighteen years old, would you?” Tess winked at me. “When it happened to me, it was in Chicago of 1927. I was in an otherwise respectable gin joint. I’ve seen a change or two since then.”

  Margaret laughed and tossed her long hair over her shoulders. “You think you’ve seen changes? I was born in the fifth century.” Her eyes got far away for a second. “Imagine, if you can, growing up in a time when people believed diseases were caused by smells, or curses, or even a vulture flying over. And now, imagine looking into a microscope and seeing the smallpox virus for the first time.”

  I closed my mouth. None of this could be true, except for the part where I’d just seen myself go back to my early twenties overnight. “It must have blown your mind,” I said in the absence of anything more coherent and useful. “How did you deal with it?”

  Margaret shrugged. “I’d learned to adapt by then. You will too, assuming you survive, of course.” She raised an eyebrow and pulled her hand back.

  “So…wait, we’re vampires?” I scratched my head. “I’ve got to say, I’m not so sure I can drink blood. That whole ordeal was pretty traumatic and, to be honest, kind of nasty.”

  Tess snorted. “You’ll do whatever you have to do to survive, Jason. Fortunately, as far as I know, we don’t have to drink blood. At least no one’s asked me to drink blood. Bloody Mary’s? Now that’s a different story.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes, but a fond smile played around her lips. “You’re incorrigible. Jason, I’m not entirely sure why the ones who create us do so. I sometimes think they do it by accident. We’re what’s called Ferin—the Forever Young. We’re created when a vampire fails to completely kill a victim. Instead of dying, we become this.” She gestured to the three of us. “It has its advantages, but one of the biggest disadvantages is secrecy.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Secrecy? Why? We look just like everyone else. I mean, we look young, but we don’t look like monsters. Not like that red-headed corpse and his tusks.”

  “No, but think about it. Imagine walking into work tomorrow and walking up to the guy who sits in the next office.” Tess crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “Do you think he’ll recognize you as Jason, his buddy who he fills out a bracket with every year? Or do you think he’ll accuse you of identity theft and get you sent to prison?”

  “It was the worse in my day.” Margaret shrugged and folded her hands in her lap. “I was accused of witchcraft. It took another Ferin to help me escape.”

  I shuddered. “Okay, I can see your point. But this is the twenty-first century. People have responsibilities. Not only that, but surveillance is everywhere. You can’t even drive under a bridge without showing up on some government camera somewhere. And with facial recognition, someone’s bound to catch on somewhere.”

  “Sure, it’ll ping on something.” Tess stood up straighter again. “Say, a missing person’s report. And that missing person’s report will kick up to some cop, who will sip his coffee and say, ‘Yeah, sure, the faces match, but our guy is forty-eight, and no plastic surgeon’s that good.’ And that’ll be the end of it.”

  I had to admit that part was true. I barely recognized the man I’d seen in the mirror. “Doesn’t everyone need ID in this world, though? I mean, we all have to get onto planes, have an ID if we get pulled over, and use banking services.”

  Tess muttered something to herself before she turned back and said, “Oh, come on. Do you really think that stuff can’t be faked? Millions of people fake it every day.”

  I held up my hands. “Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out how all of this is supposed to work. I don’t quite understand. Am I dead, or am I alive?”

  “You’re Ferin,” Margaret told me. “And you can never go home again.”

  3

  Tess took over, as though Margaret had answered my question. She hadn’t answered my question, and I’d certainly picked up on that, but I let it slide.

  “You’re the first new Ferin to be ‘born’ in almost a hundred years, and by the way, it’s pretty awesome to not be the new kid anymore.” Tess winked at me and walked over to a big, ancient-looking wardrobe. “Everyone’s excited to see what you’re all about. Come on, get dressed. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  “I suppose pants are optional,” Margaret said with a perfectly straight face. “No one’s going to object. By the time you’ve seen your first century come and go, you learn to take these things in stride.”

  Tess rolled her eyes. “Cute. Very cute. Come on, I’m hungry.”

  Neither of them seemed inclined to turn their backs, so I grabbed the jeans she tossed onto the bed and pulled them on over my naked form. I definitely wasn’t used to showing my bare ass in front of women anymore, but I wasn’t prepared to show weakness yet either. Having instant abs does wonders for your confidence, after all.

  Once I was nominally decent, they walked me out the bedroom door and into the rest of what appeared to be a mansion.

  For some reason, I expected the place to be creepy. I’m not sure why since the bedroom where I woke up was nice enough. As we eased our way out into the hallway, I could see the rest of the old place was just as well kept. The house had an elegant feel, if not particularly well lit, and I had a hard time seeing it as the lair of a handful of quasi-human creatures.

  Quasi-human creatures like me, apparently. I was still having trouble working through that one.

  The one thing I noticed as I followed my hostesses down the light blue hallway were faces. They peeked out from behind doors, which they quickly closed. I caught little details here and there—a glimpse of impossibly blue eyes, or skin as dark as midnight—but not much else. Maybe people were excited, but that excitement didn’t extend to direct interaction. It didn’t sit quite right with me, but I bided my time.

  I listened intently as we marched down the wide marble staircase. The whispers of other Ferin echoed through the rooms like little ripples, just out of reach. Tess and Margaret exchanged glances. I knew they were talking about me, but I couldn’t quite hear them.

  We arrived at what had to be the dining room. My dining room—back when I’d been married and had a house—hadn’t been this big. We could have hosted six Thanksgiving dinners at the same time in this place. It was more of a formal, great hall than a dining room, but the long oak table was set for only three.

  “Who cleans this place?” I turned to Margaret. “It’s got to be the biggest pain in the ass.”

  “We all do. We’re adults. We can clean up after ourselves, and anyone who thinks they have some kind of exemption gets disabused of those notions pretty quickly.” She seated herself at the table with all the grace of a medieval queen in a formal court, even though she only wore jeans and a flannel shirt. “Some had to learn the lesson the hard way, of course, but they did learn.”

  Tess smirked and took the seat across from her, leaving me the seat at the head of the table. My mouth watered immediately. For a table that had only been set for three people, the amount of food in front of us was staggering. Platters full of meat waited near baskets overflowing with rolls. Several bowls were heaped with various stews, rice, pasta, salad, and every kind of sauce imaginable, and pies both savory and sweet waited for us. I reached out, and then I pulled my hand back.

  My stomach growled angrily.

  “Who else is coming to dinner?” I looked over toward the swinging door I suspected led to the kitchen. “This can’t be only for us.” I wanted—I needed—it to be for us alone.

  Tess chuckled. “It’s for us,” she said, serving herself a small piece of what looked like spinach quiche. “Go on. You’re probably ravenous.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. I did try to restrain myself. I hadn’t been raised in a barn. I piled the plate in front of me high with meat, bread, pies, and fruit. After all, if my body thought it was twenty again,
I could put it away, right? No worrying about cholesterol or worrying about building a spare tire, none of that.

  I grinned and lifted my fork.

  If I thought my hunger had been severe before, I had no words to describe it now. I shoved food into my mouth and washed it down with wine like I was on death row. It might have taken me ten minutes to clear my plate, and then I filled it up again. Nothing stopped me. I gorged myself on beef, turkey, cheese, and eggs. More pie disappeared down my gullet than ever before in the history of my life, and that’s a feat given my addiction to pie. And then I did it repeatedly.

  After my fourth helping, Margaret put her hand on my arm. “You need to take a break, Jason.” She looked deep into my eyes. “I know it’s hard but pull back.”

  I stabbed another slab of beef and crammed it into my mouth, just because I could. Then I stopped. I saw the wreckage in front of me. “How in the hell did I eat all that?” I rubbed at my face. “And how am I still hungry?” I pushed my chair away from the table and got up. “Do I have a parasite or something? What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you.” She stood up and followed me. “Your body’s changing, adapting to what’s happened to you. It’s perfectly normal and natural, all things considered. You won’t have any long-term repercussions from it, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Tess tossed her head and gave me a little smirk. “You could certainly eat yourself to death. Kind of like a goose when they make foie gras.” She made a little “pop” gesture with her hands.

  I clutched at my stomach. It didn’t feel any different. I didn’t even feel bloated, despite devouring enough food for a small village. “What?”

  Margaret rolled her eyes and sighed. “Thank you, Tess. Now you’ve frightened the poor boy. Jason, it’s like I told you. Your body is changing and adapting to your new existence. You’re not human anymore. You’re Ferin. You don’t just wake up and have all of the changes made and incorporated into your being. That would be silly.”

  “Er…” I debated pointing certain realities out to her but decided to leave them out of the conversation for now. “Please. Go on.”

  “Listen, some things just take a little more getting used to.” Tess took my arm and guided me out of the dining room. A few steps took us into a giant ballroom, complete with a massive chandelier and a beautiful old grand piano. She sat on a chaise near a window and patted the seat next to her. “That hunger you felt? It’s perfectly normal for a new Ferin. I went through it, Margaret went through it, everyone in this house went through it. You could eat an entire grocery store’s worth of food, and you still wouldn’t be satisfied right now. Your body is trying to figure out what the right fuel for it is.

  “Once your body has figured that out, it will calm down, it will adapt, and that ravenous hunger will go away. But for now, you probably shouldn’t be alone because that urge to stuff your face so full you eat a township, can’t be satiated for a while yet.”

  I groaned. “Amazing.” Then I made myself smile. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. You’re here helping me, and I’m just moaning about it. It’s just a lot to get used to.”

  She gave me a low, sweet smile. I wondered what other hungers would be insatiable, and for how long. Right now, I wouldn’t have minded spending a night or two, or five, with her. Of course, I’d been almost perpetually hard when I’d been twenty the first time around. Maybe there were some downsides to this whole “forever young” thing.

  “It’s just part of the adaptation process.” Margaret patted my hand. “Think about it this way. You’ve got the rest of time to figure the whole thing out. There’ll be some other new changes to your body. Think of them more as improvements.”

  “Great.” I took a deep breath and tried to think about it as something positive. It wasn’t like I could control it, right?

  And that right there was the biggest issue for me. I couldn’t control it. “Some freak with bad hair and worse breath broke into the bathroom and did something to my body, something I never gave my consent to. Something I’d never even heard of until tonight.” I licked my lips. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep an open mind and everything, and I’m trying not to take it out on you. But I’m having a lot of trouble with this. It’s like, yeah, I’m cool with the whole thing where I have my younger body back. Maybe I can avoid some of the mistakes I made the first time around, right? But there’s so much else going on. Why isn’t he the one explaining all of this crap to me? When does any of this stop? And why me? Why not someone else, someone important or special?”

  I got up from the chaise and crossed the room. I could see the ocean from there, along with the stars. Clearly, we weren’t right in the town of Owl’s Head. If I’d thought we could see a lot of stars where I was near Lewiston, I had a lot to learn. No light pollution plagued the mansion, and the stars spilled out like glitter on velvet.

  Margaret put her hand on my back. “Jason, you became someone special the moment you survived the vampire’s attack. We don’t know why he picked you. As far as we know, vampires don’t choose to create Ferin. They don’t care for us, and they alternate between seeing us as vermin or a threat.”

  “Sometimes both,” Tess said from the chaise.

  “True.” Margaret huffed a little laugh. “That’s one reason we gather together: safety in numbers. And because we remain human enough to want to be part of a community, even if we can’t mingle among humans anymore.”

  I scoffed. “I can’t just blow off people forever. I can’t even just run around without a shirt on forever. How am I supposed to earn money if I can’t go out and get a job?”

  “There are ways.” Margaret put her hand on me again, and my anger and anxiety ebbed. It didn’t go away. It just receded enough for me to find my way back to calm. “And yes, it was done without your consent. It was terrible. You have every right to be angry about it. What happens now is up to you.”

  I stood up straighter. I would probably be angry for the rest of my life about what he did to me, and if Margaret was right, the rest of my life could well be forever, but that didn’t mean I had to let it control me. I could embrace the changes that gave me something good, or I could spend eternity sulking.

  “All right then. Onward, and damn the torpedoes.” I rubbed my hands together. I might not be a hundred percent reconciled to this yet, but I was definitely going to fake it until I made it.

  4

  I went to bed not long after that. Apparently, a newly-minted Ferin still needed to sleep, although I’d need less of it as time went on. When I woke the next day, I felt amazing. I’d only gotten about six hours of sleep, but I felt like I’d gotten twelve. More than that, I could feel this kind of energy, a super-charged nuclear core that made me want to go out and challenge the world.

  I spent a little alone time in the shower, running my hands over muscles that were as alien as the vampire’s fangs but in a different way. After all, my body was twenty again. When I got out, I found the bureau had plenty of clothes for me. Tess and Margaret hadn’t seen fit to point that out. They’d just decided to let me run around with no shirt, for kicks or something. I decided not to get mad about it because I’d been just as busy ogling every inch of them.

  Once I’d found jeans, a shirt, and a button-down I liked, I headed downstairs. Tess joined me as soon as I left the safety of my room, and Margaret made us a trio by the time we got down to the dining room. I still didn’t see anyone other than us, although I could still hear them whispering when I passed their rooms or the spaces where they hid.

  Maybe there was a period of silence, a kind of ritual until I proved my value as a Ferin. What did I know? I’d been around these people for less than twenty-four hours, and even my own body was a mystery, let alone the world I was now a part of.

  They showed me to the dining room again, and once more, someone had set out enough food to feed an entire battalion of soldiers. I tried to take less and moderate my
intake, if only from a lingering suspicion that I was still, in my core, a human. I was wrong. The ravenous hunger hit me as soon as the smell of the food reached my nose, but I pushed it down and managed to eat only two helpings that time in what was the hardest demonstration of willpower I’d ever known. Margaret watched me carefully but said nothing. Maybe I’d passed some kind of test or milestone. Hell if I knew.

  Afterward, she encouraged me to rest, on account of those “improvements.” My body positively rebelled at the thought. “Look, Margaret, I’m sorry, but if I try to lie down again, I think I’m going to explode. I’ve spent twenty years sitting down behind a desk and not doing much of anything. Let me get out and go for a walk or something. Just a walk to stretch my legs. I won’t go far, just around the house. I’ve just got to move, you know?”

  Margaret bit her lip. She looked both ageless and impossibly young in that moment. “I don’t like it,” she said after a few seconds. “It’s dangerous. You’re functionally immortal, not invulnerable. But I was new once too, and I remember what it was like. You can go outside if you bring Tess with you.”

  Tess grinned at me and saluted Margaret. “Aye aye, Captain.”

  I waited until we got outside to ask questions. “Okay, look, I’ve got to know. Why does she think it’s dangerous to go outside in the middle of nowhere?”

  Tess gave me a funny look. “You got attacked by a vampire in a gas station bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure you want to be asking that question?”

  I nodded my head once. “You have a fair point. It’s daylight, though. We should be safe enough from vampires in daylight.”

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” She snorted. “Vampires have their ways. Never underestimate those bastards. You always have to be on your guard, and you always have to be ready to fight them.”

  “Okay…” I could still feel Death Ginger’s hands on me in moments of quiet. His icicle fingers would be a prominent feature of my nightmares for decades to come. “So, what’s there to do around here? Margaret can’t seriously want me to sit around and stare at the ceiling forever.”