Preface
My brother. He has been lying in the same room--the same bed--for almost four hundred years. His name is Jack. He is physically ten years younger than me. I tried to turn him into my kind when he was eighteen--my first turning--but it didn't work. Jack has been in a coma since then. I learned that it's called a vampiric coma. They said that he'll come out of it eventually, but I don't know sometimes. Everyday, I ask myself what I did wrong when I turned him, but I never could spot the answer. I never tried to turn someone ever again.
After a couple minutes of silence, in the room with Jack, I heard someone running down the hallway. I knew who it was though. She's my soulmate and my wife, Melanie. We've been married for 253 years. I never have heard how she was turned or who did it. She wasn't letting me into that memory either. We're both telepaths. Sometimes we hate it, but most of the time, we don't care. She hates it more than me, especially because I could feel more people than her. The only one so far that I haven't gotten through to was Jack. It made me so angry sometimes. I couldn't tell if he was hurting or not, or if he was even there.
"Will!" She was scared; I could sense it in her voice and mind. As soon as I heard the emotion, I went sprinting toward her. I have not heard her be so scared in my existence. Once I saw her at the end of the hall, I looked into her mind to see what she was so horrified about. It was a piece of paper. I relaxed a little bit because no one was following her.
"What is it," I asked out loud, not knowing if she was paying attention to me or not.
"It's about Lynn." Her favorite human, Lynn. Melanie was always worried about her, no matter what. Lynn was attracted to anger and danger every second of her life. Between her family and the students of the school, Melanie never relaxed about Lynn. Lynn took everything without a word. She didn't care, and Melanie knew that.
"What's that?" I asked about the paper now and she knew it. She got the paper out of her bag and shoved it at me.
"It's about Lynn."
