I awoke in a hospital bed. For a moment or two, I lay on the bed trying to figure out how I got there. Then I sat up. My head swam and my vision blurred. I flopped back down on the pillow with a groan. Moments later, a woman in scrubs appeared.

"Hey there, welcome back," she said with a smile, "How do you feel?"

"Like shit," I answered, "Where am I?"

"St. Mary's Hospital. A cop found you wandering in a daze on Westfield Boulevard. Your red cell count was in the tank so we had to give you a transfusion."

She set about checking my vital signs.

"Weird. I don't really remember much. I left my friend's place and then... yeah, I woke up here," I told her as the cuff inflated.

"You have a wound on your neck but not a really big one. Seems strange that you lost so much blood," she observed.

I chuckled and quipped, "Maybe I got attacked by Dracula."

The nurse laughed.

"Maybe, eh," she said, "I'll let your parents know that you're awake and get the doctor to have a look at you."

She finished examining me, then made a couple notes on my chart before leaving.

I went home after another day in hospital. By the following week, I was mostly recovered and started back to school. That's when things got weird.

After my first morning back, I headed to the lunch room to meet up with my usual crew. We were the geeky outsider bunch who focused on Dungeons and Dragons, sci-fi, and our home computers. As I descended the stairs to the first floor where the lunch room was located, a girl passed by me going up. She looked strangely familiar. The girl's gaze met mine and she flashed me a smile.

"Hello, my good boy," she said in a soft voice, "You're mine now, you know."

Then she was gone. I stood on the stairs for a moment, a bit dazed. Her voice had felt like it was in my head, not my ears. Finally, I continued down, found my friends, and started eating.

The girl stuck in my head as I ate and chatted. She was tall and slim with a pale complexion, dressed in a black skirt and jacket over a blood red blouse. Black fishnets covered her long, slender legs. Her full red lips mirrored the short, dark red hair on her head. It did strike me as odd that no one around seemed to notice the girl or react to her appearance.

Most puzzling was the familiarity. I could swear that I knew the girl from somewhere. Not just passing in the hall, either. It was like I should know her name or something.

"Who is she?" I pondered.

After classes ended, I worked in the library for an hour, then headed out. As I went towards the first floor exit of the school, the girl was waiting for me. Without thinking, I walked to her and stopped. The girl smiled a toothy grin.

"Hello," she said, "Nice to see you again, Jonathan."

I responded, "I don't remember meeting you before. How do you know my name? Hell, why don't I know your name if you know mine?"

The girl placed a hand on my cheek. Her fingers idly stroked me. Our eyes locked.

"I am Mina," she whispered. "And you, Jonathan, are mine."

In my heart, I knew she was right. I could not leave or do anything but listen and stare at the girl. She possessed me in that moment. Somehow, I knew this had something to do with my missing memory and the hospital. What happened that night?

"I am yours," I said in a quiet voice. That's all I could say. Part of me wanted to protest my independence, reject her control, but I knew it was fruitless.

Mina smiled and caressed my face. She leaned in and kissed me with her full red lips.

"Tonight, you shall come to me," the girl hissed. "You'll know where."

Then I found myself on the sidewalk outside with no sign of Mina.

That night, I had a nightmare. Or a memory. I am unsure now how much of each it was.

I was wandering through St. Andrew's Cemetery, one of the oldest in the area. The burial ground was a short walk from my house. It was also a convenient shortcut to the house of the friend where I had been on the night before I awoke in hospital. My eyes fell on a girl laying on the ground between two graves, her clothing ripped. I realized that the girl might have been assaulted and raced over. To my alarm, I could not find a pulse and her skin was cold to the touch.

"Oh shit, what do I do now?" I muttered, staring at the seemingly dead girl.

This was the eighties, when mobile phones still weren't pervasive. There were houses not far away but would they answer their door to a stranger at midnight? I guessed that I could go out to Westfield Boulevard, the fairly busy street nearby, and try to flag someone down. Maybe a cop would pass by. Even a cab could probably call in and get their dispatcher to send help.

I started to get up when, to my shock, the girl's eyes opened. She smiled a wicked smile, exposing long, sharp canines.

"Hello, my good boy," the girl hissed as she shot upright and grabbed me. Strong for a girl of her size, she easily tackled me onto the ground. She rolled me onto my back and lay atop me, face by my throat. I felt her breath on my neck. It was cold, almost icy. Before I could respond, I felt a sharp pain.

I awoke sitting up in my bed, barely holding back a scream. The girl in the cemetery was Mina. I realized that quite clearly now. Was that why she felt familiar when I saw her at school?

"Tonight, you shall come to me," echoed in my brain.

I rose, dressed, and went down the stairs. The house was dark and silent, as it should be at two in the morning. A full moon shone in through the picture window in the living room. I eased the door open and went outside, easing it shut again behind me. For a moment, I was confused, unsure where I was going.

"Come to me," said Mina's voice in my head.

"Yes, I am coming," I answered.

Remembering the dream, I began walking towards the nearest gate of the cemetery. I found Mina sitting on the front step of a mausoleum. She rose and smiled at me. Her hand stroked my face.

"My good boy," she purred, "I need you."

There was a hunger in her eyes, a real sense of need. Or desire.

"And I, you," I answered without even thinking.

To my surprise, the mausoleum door was open. We went inside and Mina closed the door. I knew what was expected even without her speaking. I took off my jacket, loosened the collar of my shirt, and lay on a crypt. Mina crawled up on top of me. I felt the bite. There was no pain, only a strange ecstasy.

I awoke on the gurney of an ambulance. At least, I think I was awake. Everything felt distorted and dreamy. The paramedic was saying something into his radio about blood and dying.

"Relax, my good boy," said a soft female voice in my head, "You will be fine. I am with you."

I passed out again, falling into a dream of laying on a crypt while a girl named Mina suckled at a wound on my throat. Then she crawled up over my face. With a clawlike fingernail, she slit her own throat. Blood dripped into my mouth. I raised my head, pressing my lips around the wound to suckle eagerly. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Mina's voice echoed in my head, singing a song in some lost language.

"What were you doing in a mausoleum?" my father asked in an incredulous voice.

I stared at him from my hospital bed, unsure of what he was talking about. That had just been a dream, had it not?

"No idea. I thought I dreamt it."

"The police are interested, just so you know. Not sure what they will make of that answer. I suspect they are thinking vandalism or some stupid student shit," Dad suggested.

"It's the only answer I have," I protested, "I dreamt that I slipped out of the house and went to St. Andrew's."

"Except it was not a dream, Johnny. You really did do that. And then somehow broke into an old mausoleum where you passed out."

I stared at my father again. In my head, I saw Mina's throat dripping blood, felt her bite on my throat. I was not about to tell Dad about that part of the dream.

"I did? Oh wow."

"You are doing well," whispered Mina in my head, "So well, my good boy. Soon you will be mine again."

I could almost feel her hand caress my face.

My parents sent me to a psychiatrist after that. I guess they thought my strange dreams and activities were symptoms of some kind of mental illness. Maybe they were right. After all, voices in my head and dreams of girls sucking my blood were the stuff of either mental illness or horror fiction.

Oddly, the shrink could find nothing really wrong with me. He agreed that my dreams and the nocturnal visit to the mausoleum were indicative of a disturbance of some kind, but I passed all the tests he administered. The doctor simply could not put his finger on what was wrong. I did not mention Mina or her voice in my head. That would probably give him a symptom that he could work with, maybe even enough to get me committed. We booked some more visits and I went home.

My life returned to normal for a few days after that. While I had ongoing nightmares of my visits to the cemetery, I did not hear Mina's voice when awake. There was no sign of the girl at school, either. I started to wonder if I had hallucinated her presence there. In fact, I started to doubt how much of the whole experience was actually real rather than a nightmare. Maybe I had been going crazy.

"My good boy, I miss you so so much," Mina's voice purred in my head one afternoon as I left school, ending that brief respite.

I turned but saw no sign of the girl. As I walked home, I caught myself unconsciously diverting to a longer route that would take me past the cemetery.

"Come, Jonathan. I need you," came a plaintive voice in my head.

I forced myself back onto my usual route home. Just as I headed up the walk to my front door, a powerful urge to head for the cemetery came over me.

"Shit, no. Not now," I thought, fighting back for the first time.

"Yes, now. I am waiting for you," came Mina's voice, sounding sterner now.

Her lust for my blood was palpable even though she was not even there. My own lust to fill myself with hers rose with it.

"I can't," I protested aloud, "People will see. It's broad daylight."

"Come, my good boy," the voice purred, "I hunger. You hunger."

Inside the house, I shut the door and retreated to my room. If there was a way I could lock myself inside, I would have. Then I would not be able to give in, to go to her.

After dinner, I returned to my room and focused on homework. There had been no more entreaties from Mina. Perhaps she had given up. That seemed a vain hope, though.

When I awoke in the middle of the night, I lay on a grave in the cemetery wearing only pyjamas. There was no sign of Mina. I started to get up but almost collapsed, weak and woozy. I checked my throat and my hand came away bloody. My mouth tasted of blood, too. So she must have taken me already.

I had no memory of leaving my house or my walk to the cemetery, let alone Mina suckling at my wounded neck or dribbling blood from her veins onto my lips. Mina's control over me must be getting stronger, I thought. Fighting my weakness, I got up and staggered a few paces, finding myself in front of the mausoleum where she had taken me the previous time.

There was a shiny new lock on the door, clearly designed to prevent a repeat of my last visit. A cross and string of garlic were hung there as well. The sight of those repulsed me and I drew back, shuddering a little. Was this what people thought was happening? Vampires?

"They think they can keep us out, Jonathan," said a voice behind me.

I turned to see Mina smiling. The outfit she had worn when she appeared to me in school had given way to a long black gown with a plunging neckline. The wound from which she fed me her blood was still visible on her throat.

"Keep you out, perhaps," I responded, forcing a bit of snark into my weak voice.

"No, keep us out. You are becoming like me, Jonathan. Try and you'll see," the girl said, smile turning to a wicked grin.

I turned and walked to the gate. My eyes fixated on the cross. It almost burned my retinas, or so it felt. When I reached to touch it, my hand froze and could go no closer. After a second attempt, I stepped back and turned to Mina.

She smiled her wicked smile again and told me, "We are joined as no living couple is ever joined, my good boy. You shall walk my journey with me."

"And if I don't want to?"

Mina walked up and touched my face. Her gaze seized mine, eyes ablaze in an unholy yellow light.

"But you do want to, don't you, my good boy?" her voice said in my head.

"No, I don't," I protested, surprised at the defiance in my voice.

I felt rage radiating from Mina like heat from a fire.

"You... do," she intoned.

Her mind gripped mine, forcing her will on me. Desire flared up, almost taking over. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the cross and garlic were just in reach. Except I could no longer touch them to use them against her.

"I... do... not," I replied, barely able to push those words out.

With a burst of strength, I seized Mina and threw her at the door of the mausoleum, at the cross. She slammed into the door hard. I knew that behind her, the cross must be pressed against her back. An unearthly scream tore out from her throat, descending to a throaty growl like some animal. Mina sank to the ground shaking and moaning.

I turned and fled, heading for the Westfield Boulevard gate. There would be traffic there, maybe even people. She could not get me there without being seen. The strength I had managed when I threw Mina at the cross was gone, though. As I neared the gate, I sank to my knees. Then I lay on the ground weeping and quivering.

"My good boy, why did you hurt me like that? I have given you so much," said the voice in my head. Mina sounded strained, even exhausted.

I rolled and sat up to see her crawling towards me, eyes ablaze with that yellow glow. There was a stake in the ground near me, maybe from some maintenance work in the cemetery. If crosses worked, maybe this would, too.

She drew near me, I shifted to put a hand near the stake. Mina grinned, then raced at me and pounced like a cat on prey. I rolled out of the way and grabbed the stake.

Sunrise found me laying on the grass in St. Andrew's Cemetery. After a few minutes pulling myself together, I sat up and looked around. The stake lay on the ground near me, red as if covered in blood. There was no sign of Mina. I managed to walk out to Westfield Boulevard, though my body was weak and shaking.

A car pulled over as I collapsed on the sidewalk just outside the gate. A woman got out and raced over.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling beside me.

"No. Get help," I whispered.

The woman spotted a police car and ran to flag them down. I stared into the cemetery. For a moment, I could swear I saw yellow eyes glaring at me from the shadow of the mausoleum.

Mina's whispered, "You are mine, my good boy."

Then the eyes were gone. Blackness overtook me as a siren approached.