Vamp'd Origins: Book 1

The overhead speakers at Moonlight Arcade crackled with static before settling into the drone of the evening news. Ariah a 17 year old Warm tan skin half mexican, Half white, Long dark hair with subtle red streaks, Brown eyes, Always wearingsilver crescent moon necklace, she wears a crop jackets, ripped jeans

wiped down the prize counter, half-listening as the anchor’s voice filtered through the hum of arcade machines.

“—third disappearance this month in the narrow glen District. Police are urging residents to avoid—”

“Yo, turn that depressing shit off.” King a tall 17 year old Liberian boy with braces and earrings appeared beside her, basketball tucked under one arm. He’d been filming trick shots near the basketball hoops for the past hour instead of restocking the vending machines like Wuoi had asked.

Ari rolled her eyes. “Can’t. Manager’s wuoi rules. News stays on until closing.”

“Man’s probably hoping someone goes missing so we get more customers.” King grinned, braces catching the neon purple glow. “Nothing brings people together like a good murder mystery.”

“That’s fucked up.” Mira a 17 year old Lebanese girl Light olive skin, long curly dark hair, Green hazel eyes, Regular jeans, old rings, Always sketching sigils unconsciously

didn’t look up from her sketchbook behind the counter. Her pencil moved in sharp, geometric patterns across the page—symbols she’d been drawing since middle school without knowing why. “Those are real people.”

“I know, I know.” King bounced the ball once. “I’m just saying, this town’s been weird lately.”

Rowan a 18 year old, American white boy dyed silver hair, good looking, jeans + band patches, Combat boots indoors

emerged from the VR Zone, silver hair catching the cyan lights. “Weird’s an understatement. I’ve been tracking these strange disappearances since i was 5 years old this stuff isn’t anything new just getting more to the public.” They pulled out their phone, fingers flying across the screen. “All of them vanished within a three-block radius of here. All between 10 PM and 2 AM.”

Jalen a 17 year old black american, Tall, Smooth light brown skin Short curls, clean, Gold chain passed from his real father, Walks like he owns the stuff

leaned against the pinball machines, arms crossed over his chest. He’d been quiet most of the shift, that familiar tension rolling off him in waves. “Maybe they just left town. People do that.”

“Without their wallets? Their phones?” Rowan’s green eyes narrowed. “The last girl—Jessica Chen—her car was still running when they found it. Door open, keys in the ignition, purse on the seat.”

The TV flickered. For just a second, the news anchor’s face twisted into something else—pale, wrong, eyes too dark. Then it snapped back to normal.

Ari blinked hard. “Did you guys see—”

“The screen glitch? Yeah.” Mira finally looked up, and her hazel eyes had gone distant. “Happens every night around this time.”

“Wiring’s probably shot.” King shrugged, but his voice had lost its usual confidence. “Place used to be a morgue or some shit, right?”

“Blackthorn Cemetery.” Rowan corrected, already pulling up old city records. “Built over unmarked graves in 1952. They never relocated the bodies, just poured concrete and called it progress.”

Jalen pushed off the pinball machine abruptly. “I’m taking my break.”

He disappeared toward the back lounge before anyone could respond. Ari watched him go, noting the way his shoulders bunched, how his hands curled into fists. He’d been getting worse—more withdrawn, more on edge. Last week he’d punched a dent in his locker over nothing.

“He good?” King asked quietly.

“No.” Mira’s pencil stilled. “None of us are.”

The news switched to weather. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Narrow Glen’s streets looked normal—streetlights flickering, a few cars passing, the Old District’s AKA a part of Narrow glen town crumbling buildings casting long shadows.

But something felt different tonight.

Ari’s fingers found her silver crescent moon necklace, thumb rubbing the familiar metal. Her mom had given it to her before disappearing for three days last month. Came back with no memory of where she’d been, smelling like dirt and flowers.

“Five more minutes until we can lock up,” she said.

The TV went black.

All of them.

Rowan flicked on the arcade’s lights, plunging the room into a stark, harsh brightness. The contrast made everyone squint, flinching back from the sudden illumination.

“I need to head out.” Rowan gathered their stuff backpack, zipping it with an edge of hurry. “Meet you guys in the morning?” They avoided eye contact, fingers already tightening around the straps, knuckles pale.

King frowned, resting a hand on their shoulder. “You sure? You look beat.”

“Not like I haven’t been lately.” Rowan gave a tight laugh. “Doc says I just need to build up my resistance. It’s nothing.”

Ari watched them go, noticing how Rowan moved like they were fighting against invisible weights. It was strange, how they’d been so full of energy just last month, and now...

Jalen leaned against the wall by the back door, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I’ll lock up.”

King turned to Mira, concern replacing his usual humor. “What about you? You okay to walk home?”

Mira nodded, sketchbook tucked under her arm. “It’s just a few blocks. I’ll be fine.”

But her eyes were far away, lost in thought. Ari could almost see the wheels turning, the worry lines etched around her mouth.

They filed out, one by one, until only Ari remained. She busied herself with wiping down the counters, her movements automatic, thoughts spinning.

Something wasn’t right. It was more than just the disappearances, more than the strange glitch on the TV. It was like a storm was gathering, a darkness creeping in around the edges of their lives.

Ari remembered the rumors whispers around school about “night freaks” downtown, creatures that stalked the shadows. She’d always dismissed them as urban legends, but...

She grabbed her coat, flipping the sign to “Closed” with a final glance around the empty arcade. The machines hummed softly, a requiem to the day.

Outside, the night air was crisp, cutting through her clothes. She walked briskly, chunks of mist puffing around her each exhalation. Her steps echoed hollowly on the pavement, the only sound in the stillness.

As she approached the town’s edge, the atmosphere shifted. It felt... heavier. Like the weight of unspoken secrets pressed down from the dark. She wondered if the others felt it too.

King’s loud laughter, his quick jokes—were they just a cover? A way to keep the darkness at bay?

Jalen’s strength, his growing aggression—was it really just the gym? Or was something else happening?

Mira’s dreams, her drifting gaze—what was she seeing in those visions?

And Rowan... something was eating them from the inside out. Ari could see it in the lines of weariness around their eyes, the way their shoulders slumped just a little more each day.

She turned a corner, the Old District’s crumbling facades looming on either side, and the Full moon humming. The air smelled of wet leaves and something sharper, something wild and untamed.

From down the street, a sound reached her ears. A whispered cry, sharp and sudden, cut off almost as soon as it began.

Ari froze, heart pounding. Then, on numbed legs, she started forward.

The alley was narrow, choked with shadows. A flicker of movement caught her eye, something darting between trash cans.

She approached cautiously, hand reaching for the pocketknife she always carried. Her heart raced, adrenaline pumped through her veins.

A figure emerged from the gloom. Tall, gangly, limbs too long, hair ratty and matted. It took Ari a moment to recognize him—Luke Johnson, a senior at Ravenmoor High.

“Luke uhmm wha-What... what are you doing here?” her voice shaken.

Luke turned, eyes wild, face contorted in a rictus of terror. “They’re coming,” he gasped. “The night freaks. They’re coming for us all.”

Ari stared at him, shock rooted her in place. “Luke, what are you talking about? What’s happening?”

He shook his head, a jerky, frantic motion. “I saw them. In the arcade. Last night. They came out of the shadows, and...”

He trailed off, a sob catching in his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse, desperate.

“They’re hungry. And we’re just... food.”

Ari opened her mouth to reply, but a sound behind her cut off her words. A low growl, primal and threatening.

She whirled, heart hammering against her ribs. Another figure stood at the entrance to the alley. Taller, broader, clad in shadows that seemed to swallow the light.

“Jalen?” Her voice wavered, a question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.

The figure stepped forward, and yes, it was Jalen. But not as she knew him. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, feral and intense. His stance was coiled, ready to spring.

“Jalen, what’s going on?” She took a step back, knife still clutched in her palm.

He didn’t respond, just continued advancing, slow and deliberate. Each step echoed with finality, with inevitability.

Behind her, Luke let out a whimper, a sound of pure terror. Ari risked a glance back, and saw him backpedaling, shaking his head.

“Please,” he begged. “Please don’t let them get me.”

Ari wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but stand there, trapped between the boy she’d known all her life and the creature he’d become.

But she couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. It was as if Jalen’s eyes held her captive, as if some primal instinct kept her rooted to the spot, But then Jalen once snapped back to himself eyes color shift back from orange to brown and he looked at Ari and Luke and said

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice was strangled, pained. “I’m so sorry.”

Then he ran away, a blur of into the shadow, and as luke ran away from Ari and she goes home herself