(()) = Thoughts

Italics = Flashbacks
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The darkened alleyway hid everything from sight: it was a place that the reflective powers of the sun could never touch.  Whether it was simply because of the tall buildings surrounding it, or the beings that dwelled in its midst, the young man couldn’t tell.  All he knew was that the darkness here was a darkness like that of his soul.  For years, he had dwelled in this place, thirsting for the nectar that would allow him to live.  He tried alternatives, but the hunger within couldn’t be silenced, and he would not allow it to be quenched, no matter how hard the struggle would prove.  To do so was to officially become the embodiment of evil; to accept what he had been forced to become.

It hadn’t always been this way:  the darkness was once a foreign concept to him.  There was no horrifying need then, nor was there such a fierce internal battle.  No: in true life, he had been content.
 

Ayris Kanihan rolled over in his bed, hoping to catch just a few more minutes of sleep before he was forced to get up.  His parents were sending him to yet another prestigious high school today.  It made him sick; the peers and teachers there wouldn’t be any better than they were back East, where he had gone to boarding school.

(( Though, I guess I should just be happy that I’m not actually being sent away from home.  I never want to go to a boarding school again…))

His parents had always put more money into his education than in anything else.  While they were quite rich, they didn’t flaunt it.  The house was nice, but it was middle-class standard; a fixer-upper of sorts.  Mansions were too flashy, his mom often told him.  He, honestly, had never cared.  He preferred this neighborhood, in fact, because unlike the rich at his school, the people here were nice.

(( Money often leads to snobbery, I suppose…))

“Ayris!”

The teen groaned, and turned one ear into his pillow, covering the other with his blanket.  He really didn’t feel like getting up today…

The door opened quickly, revealing a middle-aged woman with a stern expression.  Ayris buried himself under the blankets even further.

(( I hate it when she gives me that look…))

“Mom… do I really have to go today?”

A sigh was heard from the other side of the room, and a click of heels approached.  “Ayris Adam Kanihan, get out of that bed now!  It’s your first day, and I’m not going to let you be late; it would not make a good impression.  Do you remember the last time you ended up being late at the other school?”

“…yes.”

“Do you remember how they reacter?”

“…yes.”

“Do you want that to happen again?”

“…no.”

“They get up, you lazy bum.”

The woman pulled down Ayris’ sheets, a slight smirk resting upon her face.  She tousled his hair playfully, and kissed him on the cheek, ignoring her son’s resulting groan.

“If you don’t get up soon, I’ll be forced to do that again.”  Her eyes were gently playful, her smirk just a little mischievous.  He always found himself grinning in spite of himself whenever she pinned him with such looks...  With one last kiss, she departed, counting on him to get up as soon as she left; as he did.
 

That was how he had started each morning when he was young, save the time that he was in boarding school.  It was a habit that continued from hen until he started college.  Or, rather, until he was supposed to start college.  His college days never came.

There would be no classes for him the day of orientation, nor would there be any time afterwards.  Instead, there would be the darkness that surrounded him now; that had surrounded him for four years.

When he was younger, he’d always wished for more action in his life.  Now, he understood why everyone had told him to be careful of what he wished for.  He’d wanted excitement, but instead he’d been turned into a hateful monster: a vampire.  The extension of the Devil, evil incarnate.

As a boy, he’d been told to fear them.  Society had spoken against The Fangs, but more importantly, so did his religion.  Every day, upon mess, they read over passage 3:11:

 “Fear the demons, and fangs, for they are the embodiment of pure evil, and they are after our souls as well as our blood.”

Everyone knew about the fanged ones: they hunted for blood, death.  To become one of them was to shun the light of God and a place in heaven.  To become one of them was to become evil, a murderer of body and soul.

He was now something to be feared, and now, even though he still had faith, nothing good would come to him after true death.  Once, he had been a good person with light, now he was a monster with only the darkness in which he had to abide.  He knew there would be nothing more beyond, but even so, an afterlife of nothing seemed far better than the dead-life full of torture that he was forced to lead.

As he made his way out of the alley, and onto the streets, Ayris had only one thing on his mind.  If he didn’t do something quickly, others would die: innocents.  His unclean hunger disturbed him to no end; its uncontrollable nature that was only spurred on by the bodies of humans that passed him.  He could feel the blood moving in their veins as though it were a part of him, and it took every ounce of his reserves to keep himself from feeding.

His eyes widened as the hunger grew nearly to his breaking point, until finally, Ayris began to run.  He had to do this, and he had to do it now!

((I’m not going to kill anyone!  I refuse.  I’m not your extension Satan!  I never will be!))

Gasping for breath, Ayris forced himself to keep going, praying that he could last five more minutes.  It would be all that he would need before the evil could be vanquished without disturbance.  He’d held out this long with a clean conscience, but he knew that mere determination, no matter how strong, wasn’t going to be able to keep this at bay much longer.

At last, he reached his destination: the lake.  His forehead was drenched with sweat that ran down his face: the cold lines of moisture intermingling with the hot ones.  Panting a little, the young vampire walked slowly to the wooden fence that surrounded part of the lake, and broke off a sharp chunk of wood.  Eyeing it, he stepped over the fence, and walked down to the water edge.  Holding the wood tightly in his hand, he prayed for the courage to carry this through.  He forced his eyes to focus on a small, suburban community on the other side of the lake, imagining it as it looked when he had lived there.  ((Home…))

Sighing deeply, he took a moment to gaze at the only friendly place he could remember to this day through his glossy eyes.  Shaking his silvery hair back, he raised the piece of wood to his chest, a grim, stony expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, as he closed his eyes.

A shadow moved in the background behind the young vampire, its arms up before the rest of the body.  The crunch of leaves didn’t register in Ayris’ mind as he began backing the stake with all the force he could muster; nor did the low voice, which chanted in some language that hadn’t been heard for centuries.  He was caught up in the moment: his life suddenly flashing before his eyes.

Ayris could see himself as a toddler, learning to speak.  He could see himself as a child, riding bicycles, and playing in the sand.  He could see himself as a teenager, learning about the world.  Finally, he saw the change: what had made him one of The Fangs…
 

The vampire hovered above him, malicious cruelty emanating from his body.  He had long sense asked this strange being who he was, and having gotten no answer, he’d tried to run.  He’d tried to escape, but this being was faster, stronger, something that he was obviously no match for.

Ayris screamed as the stranger neared, and the flash of fangs only made him yell louder.  … but there was no way out.  This vampire blocked every possible escape method.  No one came to his aid, and his voice only grew hoarse as time passed.  An intense feeling of helplessness overcame him, soon accompanied by tears of pure terror.  Without thinking, he dived behind the trash bins, only to be cornered and caught.

All the while, the evil being was only being amused by his antics; his laughter making the boy’s blood run cold.  When the laughing finally stopped, however, the turning began…
 

All at once, he was falling.  Indigo eyes wide and horrified, his voice failing him as he tried to call out for help.  ((Just like then…))  He landed on the ground with a harsh force, knocking him out.  The stake fell off of his chest, having only grazed his skin.

The lights of the city dimmed slightly: the stores now closed, and most of the population going to sleep.  Stepping out of the darkness, an ancient brought his arms down, gazing down at the young one before him.  A slight, knowing smile rested upon his face as he scooped the boy up.  He’d been in this place before: a place where old thoughts consumed reality, blinded truth.  The first few years of darkness rendered most into a depressive state, as did the suffering weight of living too long.

Looking around the area cautiously, the ancient began walking towards his home.  Every once in a while, he gazed down upon a true young face with an expression of calm clarity, a goal being now in sight.

As the Master in this city, he would make sure that such attempts on dead-life would never be made again.

* * *