Seventeen - A Final Sunset

A Final Sunset

Abbie's eyes shot open as a scream tore from her throat. "Carrie, no!"

Her own voice echoed in her ears, raw and desperate, as if she had just woken up from a nightmare—except the fear clinging to her didn't fade. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the suffocating darkness around her. The air in her room felt stifling, heavy with an unfamiliar scent.

She pushed herself upright, the motion sending a sharp, unbearable pain through her skull. It felt as though her head were splitting in two, like someone was driving a wedge between her temples. She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead, wincing. What was happening to her?

Her surroundings were unfamiliar in a way that unsettled her. Her curtains had been drawn tightly shut, sealing the room in darkness. A dull ache radiated through her limbs, like she had run for miles and collapsed from exhaustion. Yet, she didn't remember running. She didn't remember much at all.

Before she could piece anything together, the door creaked open.

Kai stepped in, completely unfazed, a can of Cherry Pepsi in his hand. He popped the tab open with a soft hiss, taking a sip as he leaned casually against her desk. "Hope you don't mind—I helped myself to your fridge."

Abbie's brow furrowed, her confusion deepening. "Huh? What... happened?" Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn't spoken in hours. "Why am I in my room?"

Kai sighed as if this conversation bored him already. "Hate to break it to you, Abbie, but you died."

The words barely registered.

She stared at him, her mind sluggish, struggling to process. "What?"

Kai plopped down into the chair by her desk, stretching his legs out as he took another sip of his soda. "Carrie killed you," he said flatly. "Don't you remember?"

Abbie sucked in a sharp breath as fractured memories hit her like splintered glass—Carrie's eerie voice, the cruel gleam in her eyes, the sensation of something sharp piercing her neck, the terrifying numbness spreading through her body. But the memories were scattered, incomplete. She frowned, trying to grasp them, but they slipped away like smoke.

"Kind of," she admitted. "It's... blurry. I remember her saying something about turning me." A sickening realization crept over her. "She succeeded, didn't she?"

Kai nodded. "Not completely. You're transitioning," he corrected. "You need to drink blood, or else the transition isn't complete and you will die." He paused, then added, "Like, die-die."

A cold chill ran down Abbie's spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. "No," she whispered. "I can't. I don't want to be a vampire."

Her heart hammered in her chest—a cruel irony, considering she wasn't even sure if it still beat the same way. She had always imagined her future: growing old, having a family, experiencing life in all its fleeting beauty. Now all of that was slipping through her fingers like sand, and she had no way to hold onto it.

"I... I can't," she stammered again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kai watched her, unreadable. Then he shrugged. "You don't have a choice."

Abbie's breath hitched, her mind scrambling for a way out. A loophole, a trick—something. But all she had was the cold, suffocating weight of reality pressing down on her.

"I can't do it," she muttered, more to herself than to Kai.

Kai raised an eyebrow, swirling the soda in his can like this was just another ordinary conversation. "Sure," he said. "You can choose to let yourself wither away in the next few hours. That's an option."

Abbie's fingers curled into the blanket beneath her. "There has to be another way."

Kai snorted. "Like what? Hug it out with Carrie? Beg the universe to undo it?" He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You're in this, Abbie. Whether you like it or not."

Her jaw tightened. "Then I'll fight it."

Kai laughed. Not cruelly—just amused. "Fight what? Biology?" He gestured vaguely toward her. "You already feel it, don't you? The hunger."

Abbie swallowed, her throat suddenly drier than sandpaper. She hated that he was right. There was a gnawing, a restless itch beneath her skin, growing stronger by the second. She had ignored it at first, mistaking it for nausea, but now that he had said it out loud, it was impossible to unfeel.

Abbie's breath hitched. "There has to be another way," she insisted, shaking her head. "I don't have to do this."

Kai's expression darkened, his patience already thinning. "You think I didn't check?" He set his soda down with a sharp clunk, eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "You think I just sat here twiddling my thumbs while you were out cold?"

Abbie clenched her fists. "I don't know, Kai, you don't seem all that concerned," she snapped. "You waltzed in here like it's any other day while my entire life just got ripped away from me!"

Kai shot up from the chair, his sudden movement making her flinch. "You think I don't get it?" he bit out, his voice low, almost dangerous. "I spent the entire night looking for a loophole, Abbie. Every book, every source, every damn piece of knowledge I could find—and guess what? There's nothing. No way out. No magical cure. Just one simple fact: you either drink blood, or you die for real."

Abbie's stomach twisted. She refused to accept it. There had to be something, some hidden rule, some exception. But the certainty in Kai's voice made her chest tighten.

"I didn't ask for this," she whispered, voice trembling. "I never wanted to be a monster."

Kai exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "No one does, Abbie. But that doesn't change the reality of the situation. You can be pissed off, you can hate me, hate Carrie, hate the entire damn world, but it won't change what you are now."

Abbie squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing uneven. This wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to be her fate. She was supposed to have a choice.

Kai's voice softened, just barely. "Look, I get it. You're scared. You don't want this. But fighting it isn't going to bring back the life you had."

Her throat felt tight, a lump of frustration and grief lodged there. She opened her eyes, forcing herself to look at him. "I just... I just wanted there to be another way."

Something flickered in Kai's expression, a mix of exhaustion and something else she couldn't quite name.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Me too."

The weight of it all pressed down on her, suffocating and inescapable. Abbie swallowed hard, her anger fizzling out into something raw and aching. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

Kai studied her for a long moment before sighing, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "Yeah, well," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "Don't be sorry yet. We still have a problem to deal with."

Abbie sat in silence for a long moment, her fingers gripping the fabric of her blanket as if that alone could anchor her to the life she was losing. The weight of it settled over her like a storm cloud, heavy and inescapable. Her chest felt tight, her throat dry, though she knew it had nothing to do with thirst.

"I won't be able to go into the sun anymore, right?" Her voice came out quieter than she intended, almost lost in the space between them.

Kai leaned back in the chair, arms crossing over his chest as he regarded her. "Not unless you want to be extra crispy."

Abbie's stomach clenched. She had expected it, but hearing it out loud made it real. There was something final in the way he said it, like a door slamming shut on a part of her life she hadn't even thought to appreciate.

"So that's it?" she whispered. "I'm stuck in the dark forever?"

"Not necessarily." Kai tapped his fingers idly on the armrest, his expression unreadable. "I was reading up on it while you were out. There's a way around it—a daylight ring. Witches can make them, enchant them so sunlight doesn't fry you."

Abbie blinked. "A daylight ring?"

"Yeah." He gestured vaguely. "You wear it, you walk in the sun like nothing's changed. Well, except for the whole being dead thing, but you get the idea."

Something inside Abbie uncoiled slightly. "Okay. That's... something, at least."

Kai nodded but didn't look like he was done. "There's one more thing."

Abbie stiffened. "What now?"

"You can't enter a house anymore unless you're invited in."

She frowned, the absurdity of it cutting through the haze of dread. "That's ridiculous."

Kai raised an eyebrow. "Says the girl who just woke up from the dead."

Abbie opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. He had a point.

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against her temples. Everything was unraveling too fast, too much to process. The hunger inside her was getting harder to ignore, a gnawing ache in her gut, curling around her ribs. It wasn't normal hunger. It was sharper, more insistent, clawing at her insides like a starving animal.

She swallowed thickly, her mind racing. She didn't want this—none of it. But if she was going to survive, she had to make a choice.

Her gaze flickered to Kai. "I'll do it," she said quietly. "I'll drink."

Kai tilted his head slightly, studying her with an unreadable expression. "You sure?"

Abbie nodded, then hesitated. "But... can we go outside first?"

Kai's brows pulled together. "Outside?"

She shifted, gripping the blanket tighter, as if letting go would make this nightmare real. "I just... I want to feel the sun. One last time. Before it's gone forever." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to keep going. "Can we walk until sunset? And then I'll drink your blood."

Kai didn't answer immediately. He just watched her, his usual smirk absent, replaced by something quieter, almost thoughtful. Finally, he let out a long breath and pushed himself up from the chair.

"Alright," he said, standing. "Let's go."

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow that seemed to wash over the world with a quiet, gentle grace. The warmth of it lingered in the air, like a final embrace before the day surrendered to the night. Abbie closed her eyes, letting the sun's touch envelop her, its heat a stark contrast to the coldness that had been growing inside her. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of earth, leaves, and the distant, salty tang of the sea. But there was something different about the air today, something more fragile, as if it carried with it the weight of something she was about to lose forever.

They walked side by side, the silence between them thick and heavy, as if neither of them knew the right words to say. The streets were empty, save for the rustling leaves stirred by a passing breeze, and the low hum of life seemed to have slowed, matching the stillness in the air. Abbie's mind raced, but her body moved on autopilot, her fingers brushing absently against the rough texture of the brick wall they passed. It was grounding, somehow, a reminder that this moment was real, that it was happening—though she wasn't sure for how much longer.

"I never thought about it before," she murmured, her voice soft, as if speaking louder would break something fragile between them.

Kai glanced at her, his eyes unreadable, his expression distant. "Thought about what?"

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat for a moment. Then, she exhaled slowly, her gaze shifting to the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink. "The sun," she said quietly, as though confessing something she hadn't even realized until now. "How it feels on my skin. How the air smells when it's warm." Her voice trailed off, her thoughts drifting away with the wind. "I took it all for granted."

The world seemed to hold its breath as her words hung in the air between them, the sky deepening in color, reflecting the weight of the moment. Kai didn't respond right away. His usual sharpness, the edge of sarcasm, was gone, replaced by something softer, quieter. The silence stretched between them, and in it, Abbie felt the enormity of everything they weren't saying, everything they couldn't say. Finally, Kai spoke, his voice low and almost reverent, as if he were acknowledging a truth they both knew but had never fully understood.

"Yeah," he said, his gaze not meeting hers. "People do that."

They kept walking, the sun slowly sinking lower, its fading light casting long shadows that stretched across the pavement like ghosts of the day. Abbie couldn't help but notice the beauty in everything—the way the golden light bled into the world, the way the breeze felt like a whisper against her skin, the way the world was holding its breath, waiting. She wanted to remember it all. Every second, every sensation. She wanted to bottle it up and carry it with her so that when it was all gone, when everything had changed, she could still hold onto this one perfect moment.

The sky darkened, the last golden rays slipping away, leaving only the soft shades of twilight. The world seemed to exhale along with her, and Abbie felt the pull of something inevitable. Something final. And with it came a quiet realization. She couldn't pretend anymore.

Abbie stopped walking. The sudden stillness of it shocked her, but she couldn't move any further. There was no more time for hesitation, no more time for pretending that this wasn't happening. She turned to Kai, her breath shallow, her hands trembling, and the words, though she had known they were coming, still felt like a weight she wasn't sure she could carry.

"It's time, isn't it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile reality of the moment.

Kai didn't answer right away. He didn't need to. His gaze was steady, unwavering, as if he had known all along that this moment would come, that it would feel like the closing of a chapter that could never be reopened. Finally, he nodded, once, curtly, but it was enough.

Abbie's heart thudded painfully in her chest, but she didn't flinch. This was what she had known would come, what she had been prepared for. It was the end of something, but also the beginning of something else. She steadied herself, her voice breaking the silence with a quiet resolve. "Okay," she whispered, as though saying the word aloud would make it real. "Do it."

Kai stepped closer, his usual smirk gone, replaced by something deeper—something almost solemn. There was a quiet finality in the way he moved, and as he raised his wrist to her mouth, Abbie felt a rush of memories flood her mind. The first time they had met, the first time they had truly seen each other, the moments of laughter, of pain, of everything that had led them to this point. Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them.

"You sure?" Kai asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Abbie swallowed, her heart in her throat. She met his gaze, her own steady. "I don't have a choice, remember?"

He nodded, once, and in that simple gesture, the last of the distance between them closed. His wrist was now just inches from her mouth, and the quiet between them deepened, the air thick with something unspoken. And then, without another word, Abbie leaned in.

Her teeth sank into his wrist. The taste of him, sharp and raw, filled her senses, and for a moment, she lost herself in it. The world seemed to fade away, the last of the daylight slipping into the darkness as she drank in the reality of the moment. This was it. The last of the warmth, the last of the sun, the last of everything they had known.

She didn't pull away. Not yet. Not until the warmth had faded from his skin, and the night had fully claimed the world around them. Not until there was nothing left but the silence of what they had done, and the understanding that everything had changed. Forever.