Page 7 of Artificial Moon

“Ms. Moon, I do not mean to put you on the spot or make you feel uncomfortable, but from all indications, you are a vampire.” He tilts his head as my eyes widen. “Pardon me, but you easily look two decades younger than your actual age. I hope that comes off as a compliment and not judgment. Believe it or not, I often come across the supernatural in my line of work. I’ve drawn interest from witches, wizards, werewolves and, yes, vampires. It seems with great wealth, there is great interest... especially when someone such as myself pushes out into the cosmos... and deep into the human brain.”

He stops and watches me. “All that said, your core temperature is still a few dozen degrees higher than most vampires I’ve come across. Perhaps you’re not such a creature. By your diminutive size, you do not fit the bill of a werewolf. I suppose you could be a witch of some sort, but then, why the low body temp?”

“I am what’s called anenergyvampire,” I say simply, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, really?” he asks, sitting up in his chair like a math nerd in high school. “What does that mean, exactly? Can you demonstrate it on me? Unless, of course, it somehow turns me or kills me. I don’t want to be turned or be killed. I quite like being mortal. Being immortal almost feels like a cheat code.”

“Sure,” I say. “Take note of your energy levels. Are you at a 10, the highest. Or 1, the lowest.”

“Well, considering I’m quite excited to meet you, I would say I’m hovering at a 10 right now.”

“Okay, great,” I say. “Here goes...”

His aura is bright green—an indicator of abundance, strength, confidence, and a lot of other positive things. Swirling within the aura, emitting bright flashes, is the energy that I seek. With my mind, I reach out to him... and feel myself dip into his aura. Once in there, I draw those bits of flashing life force. Whatever I use to reach out to him—be it a psychic tube or energy proboscis—his energy comes pouring into me, filling me up nicely.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah, though I feel sleepy. I want to yawn. But I refuse to yawn during the day.”

“Wow, good for you.”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s all about taking control of your brain and body... and I pride myself. Hold on—”

The mother of all yawns explodes from him. “Okay, that’s enough. I get it. Yeah, I feel it. I see what you are doing and I see what you mean by psychic vampire.”

I pull away from him; in effect, releasing myself from his aura.

His head drops. “You’re gone. I literally felt you letting me go, so to speak. But if I hadn’t known it was you, I wouldn’t have had any idea what was happening to me. It felt a lot like how I feel, late at night, when I’m about to go to sleep for the night.”

“When you finally allow yourself to yawn.”

“Exactly. Let me ask you something, if you don’t mind...”

“I don’t mind.”

“Could you use that energy-zapping thing as a weapon? Like, drain all the energy from your enemies?”

“I could, yes.”

“Have you... ever killed someone doing that?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Sleeping to death isn’t the worst way to go.”

“Probably not.”

“How common are vampires like you?”

“Not very.”

“May I ask how you became one?”

I give him a mental suggestion to forget this line of inquiry. He blinks, shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I seem to have forgotten my train of thought. Quite unlike me... unless. Say, did you just gave me a telepathic command to forget what I was about to ask you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because my last memory is of you closing your eyes and dipping your head slightly, which is a gesture that I know that some vampires use to control others... or to broadcast a mental command. Am I right?”

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