Sonetto's eyes snapped open, and she sucked in a breath so fast it felt like she hadn't breathed in days. Her face and body were slick with sweat, every inch of her skin clammy and cold. Her head throbbed violently—so hard it felt like it might split open.
The crawling sensation was still there, skittering just beneath her skin, like a thousand spiders racing up her limbs and burrowing toward her brain.
But slowly—inch by inch—as her mind fought through the fog and she pulled herself closer to full awareness, the pain began to lessen.
Sonetto's breathing came in quick, shallow bursts as she pushed herself upright, arms trembling beneath her. Her muscles still felt like jelly, every movement raw and unsure. But as she tried again, bracing herself against the floor, something shifted.
It hit her like a surge of static electricity.
A sudden burst of energy flooded her veins—cold and clean. Her spine straightened instinctively, the weakness in her limbs vanishing like smoke in the wind. And her vision snapped into perfect clarity.
The room around her sharpened to an unnatural degree—every detail, every thread in the carpet, every speck of dust hanging in the sunbeam spilling through the blinds. The air really hot though, but still somehow crisper.
Her breath caught in her throat. She looked down at her hands, half-expecting them to be shaking—but they were steady. Still slick with sweat, but no longer trembling.
Sonetto didn't feel thirsty—at least not in the way she'd expected. Her throat wasn't dry, her lips weren't cracked. No aching hunger twisted in her gut. That had to be a good sign, right?
Still, the uncertainty gnawed at her.
She stumbled to her feet, her legs surprisingly steady, and made her way to the mirror above her dresser. The same one she'd stood in front of hours ago, searching for answers.
Now, she just wanted confirmation—proof the bite hadn't spread. But when she looked up… she froze. And her breath hitched.
Her reflection stared back, wide-eyed and pale—but that wasn't what stopped her. It was her hair.
Every strand had turned a ghostly, silvery white.
Not just faded—transformed. Ethereal. Almost metallic in the light.
It spilled around her face like moonlight, completely drained of the soft chestnut colour she'd known her whole life.
Only her eyebrows and eyelashes remained untouched, still holding onto their natural hue, despite her hair looking completely different.
Sonetto reached up slowly, fingers trembling, and ran them through the new strands. It felt the same. Still soft. Still hers.
Her gaze locked onto her reflection once more, and this time her eyes caught the light—except they weren't hazel anymore.
They were deep purple.
Vivid and unnatural, like amethyst lit from within.
Sonetto leaned in closer, her breath fogging the glass as she searched her face for more changes. Her skin was pale—almost porcelain—and smooth in a way that felt wrong. Unfamiliar. She checked her arms, her hands, her collarbone. Nothing else seemed obviously different… but it was the feeling that unnerved her. Like her body no longer belonged entirely to her.
How did this even happen?! her thoughts screamed, the confusion crashing over her like a wave.
Her conclusion?: this had to be a dream. A hallucination. Something her brain is just projecting so she'd cope with becoming a vampire.
So she pinched herself—nothing…
She slapped her face.
The sharp sting echoed in her skull, and a red handprint bloomed across her cheek—Still nothing…
Just a pale, shaken girl in the mirror, watching her like a stranger.
Sonetto stepped back, her breathing quickening. Panic tried to take root again—tight in her chest, prickling at her fingers—but it couldn't quite bloom. In its place was something… colder. Calmer.
I should be freaking out more, she thought. Why aren't I freaking out more?
Sonetto squinted at her reflection, her eyes narrowing. Something else was off.
She leaned back slightly, took in the full view—and froze. Her figure looked… different. Not drastically, but noticeably. Her waist was slimmer, her cheeks slightly more defined. It was like she'd dropped a few kilograms overnight without even trying.
And moved toward the mirror to see that the bite mark that had been there just yesterday was gone—vanished without a trace, save for two tiny scabs where the punctures had been. Barely noticeable now. Barely real.
Sonetto moved to the mirror again, leaning in close.
She opened her mouth and used her fingers to gently pull at the corners, stretching her lips back to get a better view. Her eyes scanned along her gumline, and along her teeth. And no fangs.
She wasn't thirsty.
She wasn't hungry.
No fangs. No bite marks.
And she'd inexplicably lost weight overnight—and for some reason, she felt fine about it.
She didn't even know what to feel.
Still staring at herself—her hair, her eyes, the way the light caught the subtle curve of her cheekbones—Sonetto felt like she was observing a stranger who just happened to wear her skin.