Dearest Child

“I HAVE MADE mistakes aplenty, dear child. Some unforgivable, some slight inconveniences, and some…much deeper than I will ever care to admit. You see…living life eternal only strengthens the urge to pursue all that is unsavory. We indulge ourselves in every sin your kind could ever conjure. Why, it would only be a matter of time before you create new ones. However, there is something your kind needs to understand; we do not give a damn. The moment warmth escaped our bodies and our souls burst into ash, Hell already had us in its teeth. Do I make this all clear?”

“Yes,” the young man breathed. “I know what it might mean—what it does mean, but I have nothing to live for. Mother loved me but was forced to turn her nose, Father thinks about how he’d be part of my end, my sisters only bow their heads in silence. Deep down, I am dead. I have been dead for an extraordinarily long time.”

The vampire nodded slowly, taking in the young man’s despair. If he possessed emotion, he imagined a sliver of hurt. He stopped to examine his voluntary prey with thoughtful eyes. Smooth, pale skin drenched in sweat brought on by anticipation left a sweetness the vampire didn’t know he needed. Crow black hair rested in the young man’s eyes as he heaved without warning.

“Do you feel it?” the vampire murmured softly. “Do you feel the ache of death? The cold, hard anguish that comes with it? Death is misery—pain. No beauty or delicate release.”

From his neck and shoulders, unexplainable heat seared the young man’s insides without doing him in. A radiated torture plagued him with unwelcome shivers and spasms. Heart pounding, sweat pouring down his face, he considered taking it back. He’d been offered the chance, after all. Yet, something pushed him to endure it.

“It will haunt you, this pain. You will bear witness to the reaper, and he will curse you because you have interrupted his duties. Your curse is this pain every half century after the date on which you were meant to suffer your mortal fate. If it is an illness, your body will mimic it rapidly, but you will never let go. If it happens to be a peaceful ride out through sleep, you will feel every muscle in your body slacken at once, you will not move for an hour. Paralysis. Does existing alongside me as I am still entice you, dear child?”

His thoughts raced, weighing his options. If he chose to be one with the vampires, he could roam freely through the night without consequence. If he surrendered to his pain and begged to be released, he chanced dying anyway. His third and most alternative option was swearing servitude. If he showed his worth, he would remain human but serve the master vampire until his death. However, staggering pain impeded his clarity to choose.

His muscles and tendons began to tense. As they did so, he ground his teeth until his jaw screamed in protest. With eyes shut, tears squeezed through his clenching eyes. Agony stole his breath to scream. Pulsating, intensifying fire continued its assault on his body.

Then, relief came. All symptoms of suffering snapped off like extinguishing a lit lantern. Heavy gasping wracked his body to the point of retching. Bile burned his throat as it hit the black, marbled flooring under him.

The young man sat back and wept at his bottom lip. Embarrassed, he found an ornate pillar to focus on. Feathered, crow black hair stuck to his forehead as he looked at everything but the master vampire. Puking showed his weakness in a time when he needed to be strong.

After a long pause, he bowed his head as sourness from his vomit filled his nose.

“Do you choose this?” the master vampire questioned. “You choose to die over and over for what you consider a way out? Dear child, that is far from sanity. If you truly want to be dead, why not let me drain your life and end this exchange? Why must you suffer for eternity?”

“It is what I deserve…”

At that, the vampire paused his methodical pacing and stared with intrigue deep in his eye. “Do tell.”

The dark-haired man finally found it in himself to look up and meet the vampire’s gaze. Beautiful, piercing eyes of violet magnified pale silver hair. Not by age but by choice. Smooth and light as silk, it cascaded like a waterfall down to his hips. A chilling grey hue among the vampire’s ghostly skin assured his undeath, and his cheeks sank inward with a jawline sharp enough to kill.

His voice matched the dominant way in which he carried himself, mysterious and full of grandeur. Shoulders squared, pronouncing his collarbone more than it already had been with a cloak flowing to the floor, he moved in gentle, long, poetic elegance.

“Well?” the vampire pressed after a long silence. “I possess infinite time, though I do not wish to waste it.”

The young man regained his concentration before explaining, “Eternity without death seems to be the worst curse. Death signifies an ending. I would imagine not having that satisfaction, unless self-inflicted, is worse than the fire and brimstone my life’s choices have promised me.”

“Insightful… A man as young as yourself has never brought me such interest in many a century. Your age—man and woman—live in lustful thoughtlessness. Young humans romanticize what should be feared. They do not see the bigger picture, the sacrifice. Yet, you come to one of us after meticulous consideration. That is, admittedly, quite refreshing.”

A spark struck the young man’s chest. A compliment offered to him had gone long missed. Since being outcast by everything he knew and loved, all he’d heard was laughter and slurs. His choices made a mockery of his family name.

‘Disgrace. Sodomizer. Child lover,’ he recalled with disgust.

Of course, he had not been, nor done, any such thing. He loved music, drugs, and sex. In a respected household, he existed as Earth’s scum. His preferences made every ounce worse.

Seedy holes in walls hidden down alleys only those brave enough to venture provided half-earned, temporary love. Despicable and tasteless. Degrading. Yet, another way to enjoy who he was existed none.

Sorrow replaced his short-lived satisfaction while his mind wandered. Spotty images of meaningless nights, dizzy numbness paired with hurt and strange backgrounds, and smoke…

Smoke always filled his lungs despite indirectly taking part. Clouds often choked him into a lightheaded, splotchy daze. Lights flashed and sputtered, blurred together like a novice watercolor. By night’s end, he never remembered his name. However, his identity mattered to no one he chose.

They never asked where he’d come from, why he hid in such despicable places, what drove him to indulge in all that was unsavory. They didn’t care. All those around him cared for was whatever rumored abilities he’d acquired. He’d known where to obtain premium Dust, a smooth bottle of booze, and an extra fun time with nameless strangers.

‘Lowlife. Nothing. You’re nothing,’ he imagined.

“Shameless during impairment. Shame-filled when the haze dies, and you are left with your bitter reality.”

He startled.

“I can see your story behind your eyes. You have only been noticed as a useful object, not a purposeful human. I suppose becoming one of my children shall reinvent that perception.”

He stayed silent.

“But you would need to come to that conclusion for yourself—no one else.”

The young man instinctively nodded.

“Do not give me answers I want to hear. You will need to prove yourself, or I will snap your neck as quickly as your family severed your heartstrings. Am I clear? Clear as crystal?”

“Yes,” the young man promised. “I will prove myself.”

“Then,” the vampire decided, “let us proceed with your endeavors.”