"Ugh!" My head feels like someone tried drilling a screw through both of my eyes and into my skull.
I groaned, squinting against the morning light—or maybe it was afternoon already. Either way, I don't give a fuck right now… I tried to sit up, but my limbs were too heavy, like they weighed two tons. Managing to roll over, I shoved off the edge of the bed, and promptly face planted the floor. A grunt left me as I blinked at the wooden boards of my apartment, trying to remember why everything ached and buzzed and why I felt so… wrong.
Then it came back. Well, Sort of…
Last night…
I remember the moment I stepped into the bar, I felt like someone had switched off the sluggishness. Instead of the bright evening sun, the lights were low, and the cool air was a balm against my skin. I didn't complain- after all, at least, at that moment, I felt better.
Meanwhile, Kel looked right at home here, casual but confident as we found seats at the counter. Though, from what I can tell, Kel is like that all the time. He ordered a spiked mango smoothie. He did say he would get one after all. I ordered a whiskey shot, just half out of habit and half because I needed it right now.
The bartender asked for ID. I handed her mine. Kel flashed his Defender card. She accepted both with a nod and moved on. I wish I could flaunt my defender's ID but… yeah…
The bar was quiet but cozy. This bar is actually one of the only places that made me feel at home… I guess that kinda sounds pretty bad… but it's true! With how much time here, I could say my apartment is my second home.
"So," Kel said, leaning his elbow on the bar, "how'd you get into this business? No offense…but- you don't really seem like the fighting type to me."
"I.." I took in a deep breath, " it's more a requirement than a job. Plus it's the highest paying place- even for the lowest rank it pays higher than any job I could get till I save enough for college."
"Huh, I guess that's fair… though kinda don't you think?"
"That's life…"
There was quiet for a moment, everything seemed to pause before Kel spoke up again. "Sorry if this is out of line but… Why are you still F rank? You seem to have fought for a while, and you can use your Spark very well, how have you not leveled up?"
Again, I take a deep breath, taking in the question. "First, let me ask you this: how many S ranks are there?" I say, looking into Kel's eyes.
"In this country or the world?"
"The world"
"Um…" Kel put a finger to his chin before answering, "fifteen, right? Though I'm pretty sure we only got two."
"Correct, though, do you know why that is?" I ask, leaning against the bar.
"Because they are strong?"
"Sort of- they are the strongest in the world hut- I meant: do you know why not everyone is an S rank since everyone can just rank up if they fight enough monsters?"
"Oh, um… why?"
"It's because everyone has a cap with their body!" I smirk, "No matter what Spark you have, a person always has a block they can't pass. Mine is F rank while others can be a lot higher."
"Why do people have a cap? Then should there be no S ranks?" Kell asks, tilting his head a bit.
"From what I know, your limit is determined both based on mana capacity and tolerance while also based on your physical endurance. For example, since my mana tolerance and capacity is very low, I am an F rank. This means that an S rank is very high in categories to be as strong as they are. Though, we still don't know much information about Sparks and S ranks so all of this could be slightly inaccurate."
Kel sat there stunned. Though after a moment he shook his head and said, "woah… that's a lot."
"Yep." I sighed looking at the bartender and she brought us our drinks.
Kel immediately took his and scooped some of his smoothie with a tiny spoon, popped it into his mouth, and hummed in delight like a food critic. "Yum!" He mumbled.
I grinned while watching Kel. He is so ignorant, he reminds me of a child. I hope he doesn't regret his decision to become a defender like I did…
Suddenly, I downed my whiskey shot in one go. Usually I take 3 to 4 of these so I didn't think much of it but… Iinstantly regretted it.
The whiskey felt like it had claws, burning down my throat, but worse—it clawed its way back up, dragging my breakfast with it. I barely managed to twist around before I retched all over the floor next to my seat.
"Uuuugh…." I groaned. My entire body became cold and limp leaving my stomach empty.
Kel laughed, handing me a napkin. "You a lightweight?"
I wiped my mouth, face burning. "It just didn't taste good…" I muttered before sitting up straight- then lumping on the bar.
The janitor, clearly used to this sort of thing, came by with a mop and a tired sigh.
I raised my hand to get the bartender's attention. "Can I get something else, please!"
The bartender returned with a smirk and a wine glass. Deep red liquid swirled inside—and a pink umbrella perched on top.
I froze.
Oh… She did that on purpose- putting an umbrella. I guess she didn't like me talking trash about fruity drinks and wine being for "girls and softies" last time…
I sighed and took the glass anyway. I sipped it, expecting to not like it. Though, it was… okay. Kind of dry. Kind of fruity. At least it's a drink…
But now I'm hungry! Ugh
!
I turn my head toward Kel, still slumped over the bar. "You hungry?"
Kel glanced up from his half-finished smoothie and tilted his head. "Kinda, yeah."
"Cool. I'm starving." I raised my hand again to get the bartender's attention. "Hey, can I get some onion rings and a good cheeseburger? Like The Double Bacon!"
Kel perked up. "Oooh, that sounds great! Uh—can I get the same, but with extra pickles?"
The bartender gave us both a long, unimpressed look. Her eyes lingered on me, she wasn't really hiding her disdain for me. I just raised an eyebrow at her in response- like, what is her problem? She sighed, rolled her eyes, then shouted toward the back, "Two Double Bacon cheeseburgers! One with extra pickles! Make that with a bucket of onion rings!"
Kel leaned his cheek on his palm, watching the TV screen above the bar, which was playing muted footage of a recent A-rank Tower raid somewhere in the south. Of course this is all edited footage since there is no service in the towers. Though, maybe that is a good thing- maybe not- either way it is making the Lotus Fang union look good with all the flashy Sparks. That union is one of the only sub-organization with a S rank and fifteen A ranks in the whole country.
The television screen flashed with an image of a woman, whose slim physique was clad in skin-tight attire that accentuated her grace. Her dark, cascading hair, with a subtle combination of red and purple sheen, like rich wine. She moved with the sleekness and perfection of a professional ballerina as, in a fluidity defying the laws of physics, she spun through the air, her movements an entrancing ballet. The red, grotesque dragon, its scales horribly glinting, roared its rage, but the woman did not blink. Her katana, a spinning blur of polished steel, spun through the air, striking the dragon's hide with a sickening slice of air.
The impact sent shockwaves echoing through the air, and the beast's bellow was cut short as a spout of scarlet blood gushed out of the wound. The woman descended with serene equanimity, her katana still smeared with gore. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the remaining gore flying from the purple-tipped blade, her expression remaining stoic.
That lady is Megara Ji-Chon. She is one of our only two S ranks in the country. While some might suspect her Spark might be flashy, it isn't, it's more elegant and smooth as her Spark is called: "Ballerina's Blade." From all I know it is an agility type Spark- like mine- but she has mastered it and strengthened her magic potential to make it into a S-rank Spark. I think it makes her about to become weightless or something so that she can spin and practically dance mid air and that does my damage or something? … I don't really know much about it.
"You ever wish you got a different Spark?" Kel asked out of nowhere, eyes still on the screen.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Every goddamn day," I muttered. "Don't get me wrong—my Spark could be better if I had enough mana or could rank up, but I don't… Plus- it's not exactly flashy."
Kel chuckled. "I dunno, I think it's cool, even if it isn't flashy."
"Sure… " I sigh, rubbing the side of my face. "Honestly, if I could've chosen my Spark, I'd have gone with something explosive- like the A ranker: JinSuu Kimhun's grenade spark. Something that makes people shut up when they see it. All the money practically flies at you then!"
Kel frowned slightly, then shrugged. "I mean… You lived with your Spark… Half the team didn't."
That shut me up for a second.
"...Yeah," I said quietly, staring down at my wine glass. "I guess we did…"
He looked at me, but didn't push it. He just sipped his smoothie through the straw with a loud slurp. We just sat in silence till the bartender came back. She slid two plates in front of us, the smell of melted cheese and fried onions instantly palpable. Finally!
"Oh thank god!" I mumbled, grabbing my burger, mashing it directly into my face-hole.
However, I couldn't react in time as the taste was everywhere in my mouth. I've had this before… but now it tastes like dog shit. I'm not even joking, I immediately turned around and threw it up, instantly. And I thought I didn't have anything left in my stomach but my body just kept rejecting the food out.
The janitor picked up his mop again and began mopping the mess up again.
Whipping my mouth again, I turn and see Kel and the bartender's expressions. They both stood in shock and speechlessness. Though, I too sat there without muttering a single word.
After a while, Kel let out an awkward laugh, trying to cut through the thick, sour tension in the air. "Dude..."
I wiped my mouth again, my hand trembling just a little. "Yeah…" I muttered, my voice flat. I sighed again, I felt a mix of pure tiredness and embarrassed- a feeling I haven't felt since highschool.
Kel leaned over slightly, concerned about slipping past the corners of his casual grin. "Hey, you good? That's the second time you've tossed your guts today…"
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I looked down at the mess the janitor was mopping up—again. I stared at my hands for a few moments before taking in a very long deep breath.
"I dunno," I admitted finally, slumping back against the bar stool. "I just need another wine."
Kel blinked. "Wait- you sure? You just-"
I held up the empty glass, giving it a little shake. "Just give me the damn umbrella juice!" I yelled.
The bartender hesitated, "You sure?-..." She paused before sighing. Tentatively, she took the glass and filled it back up. The bartender also didn't forget to lay a pink umbrella at the side of the glass, just for me.
I stared at the wine for a second. I watched it ripple and swirl in the glass. I can't believe I'm gonna do this, but alcohol is alcohol! I took the umbrella out and chugged it. Chugged it till not a single drop was left.
My hand lingered on the glass after I set it down, fingers tracing the rim.
Kel tilted his head. "Huh. That stayed down."
"Told ya I just needed some alcohol!" I smirked.
He snorted. "Spoken like a true drunk!" Kel laughed and he raised his empty smoothie glass.
I nodded to the bartender before she poured me a new glass of wine. Then, as if nothing happened, me and Kel clinked our glasses as a toast.
"Toast!" We cheered in unison.
I stared at my glass for a small moment. The deep red swirled slowly, catching the light, making it shimmer like glitter. I gripped tightly.
I muttered, "What the fuck is wrong with me today…?" before tipping my head back and chugging it.
Again…
The night blurred a little after that.
The lights inside the bar grew warmer, hazier. Conversations and clinks of glasses buzzed all around like soft white noise. Kel and I had moved to a booth at some point—probably because I almost fell off the barstool, and he caught me by my hoodie. I don't know, I barely remember much, I barely know how much time had passed.
Kel was sipping his third spiked mango smoothie—because of course, he was—while I was on… hell, I lost count eight wines ago.
My cheek was squished against the sticky wood of the table, my body a limp noodle draped across the booth. Kel sat across from me, laughing at a joke I forgot halfway through telling.
"...So then I said," I slurred, waving my hands for dramatic effect, "if you're gonna stab me in the back, the least you do is make it painful, y'know? Like—like, get good… heh-!"
Kel snorted, leaning back with a lopsided grin. "You are so drunk."
"I am not," I mumbled against the table. "I'm just… comfy."
"comfy?"
"yeah… *hic*!"
Kel was the kind of drunk who stayed just shy of tipsy. Just enough buzz to loosen up, smile more, laugh louder, but not enough to slur or stumble. Meanwhile, I am a walking, talking pile of booze and bad decisions.
I groaned and shoved myself upright, immediately regretting it. My vision shifted in this sorta way that made it look like I opened my eyes in a pool. The bar lights turned into tiny, blurry orbs. Meanwhile, the table felt as if it was wobbling when it obviously wasn't.
"I swear to god, Kel," I said, gripping the edge of the table as tight as I could manage, "if I puke again, bury me here. Just drag me outside and leave me in the alley with the garbage, where I belong!"
Kel burst out laughing. "C'mon, man. You're fine! You just need water or a snack!"
I squinted at him. "You're way too chipper for someone who just watched their friend do projectile regret—a lot."
Kel shrugged, "I guess I got a strong stomach! Anyway-" he gently stood up, "let's get you a snack to sober up!"
I groaned. "I don't think food and I are on speaking terms right now!"
"Then at least wash your face or something, man. You look like someone dumped a wine barrel onto a scarecrow."
"Wow. Beautiful. I feel seen."
Kel rolled his eyes but helped me up. "Bathroom's that way. Go splash your face before you melt into this booth."
I staggered off with the grace of a baby deer on a frozen lake, swaying toward the hallway near the back of the bar. It was dimmer here, quieter, away from the clinking glasses and buzzing conversations. I leaned on the wall as I walked, half-laughing at how dramatic my own footsteps sounded.
The bathroom door creaked open under my hand. No one inside—thank god. I stumbled in and braced myself against the sink, squinting at my reflection under the buzzing overhead light. I pushed strands of my dark red hair out of the way of my eyes and stared into them. In this light, it kinda makes my eyes look slightly red- heh…
Shaking my head a bit, I turned on the faucet, the sound of water rushing somehow louder than expected. Gently, I let the cold splash over my hands. Then my face. Then I just… stood there. Letting the chill soak into my skin like it might sober up my soul.
It didn't do much, I'm just wet and sad now. I'm also hungry, but apparently whenever I want to eat something my body says, "noooo! I don't wanna eat!" Ugh!
Suddenly the door behind me opened with a soft creak. However, I jumped- I don't know why, this is a public place- of course there would be people.
To not be awkward- no, it was still awkward- I looked at the person who stepped in. They weren't dressed flashy—just black jeans, a simple dressy shirt, and kinda Western style boots. Their hair was short on the sides, messily tousled on top. However, as they saw me, their face changed to confusion. One eyebrow raised like they weren't sure what they'd just walked in on.
"Rough night?" the stranger asked, a bit cheeky-like.
I snorted. "You could say that. I think I'm about one drink away from death."
They smiled, stepping over to the other sink. "Bar bathroom confessionals. Classic," they whispered.
I chuckled, leaning heavier against the counter. "Don't suppose you've got Tylenol or something stashed in those pockets."
They shrugged. "I got something. You want brutal honesty or a nice lie?"
I stared at them for a second. I mean- are they trying to joke around or something?
"…Honesty," I muttered after pondering for a brief second.
They met my eyes in the mirror. "Then you're gonna feel like crap in an hour. But hey—at least you've got style."
I cracked a smile. "oh thanks! Not like I don't feel like crap already…"
The stranger chuckled under their breath and shook their hands dry, not even bothering to grab a paper towel. They leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed.
"You sticking around here forever, or you wanna breathe some fresh, non-bathroom air?"
I blinked, thinking,"I don't know..."
They snorted. "Well, pretty soon someone's gonna walk in here and think you're dying."
I wiped my hands sloppily on my jeans. "Fair point. Though they wouldn't be entirely wrong… heh…" I tried to chuckle.
They nodded toward the back door. "There's an alleyway behind the bar. Chill spot. No crowds. No noise. C'mon."
For half a second, my brain went into stranger danger mode, but… I mean, I'm already in a bathroom with them and it wasn't like they were dragging me—they just offered. Plus, even if they tried something, they could've done it already. I'm not exactly the hardest target.
"Sure," I shrugged.
I followed them through the small back entrance. It creaked open, we headed around the building into the alley, the heavy, damp smell of rain on concrete immediately slapping me in the face. I suppose with everything I didn't notice it even started raining. Cool air wrapped around me, making me shiver a little. Though it was actually a bit nice- the alley sides were covered so the rain didn't catch us much.
The alley was pretty empty, save for a few empty kegs and a garbage bin at the far end. The stranger leaned against the wall, hands stuffed in their pockets, watching the mist curl off the ground under the flickering streetlight. Time sure does fly when you're drunk- that's the saying, right?
I slumped down next to a crate and sat, legs stretched out, head tilted back to breathe. For a moment, we just sat there, not saying anything. It was... nice. Strange, but nice.
"So," they finally said, voice low and easy, "what's got you trying to outdrink a funeral?"
I chuckled weakly. "Life, man. Life shit. Half of my team died in a tower."
They made a low sound in their throat. "Tower diver, huh? Explains the edge."
I squinted at them. "Are you a Defender?"
"I'm not." They shrugged. "Just seen enough of 'em pass through here. Plus, my younger brother got into the business not too long ago. You're all either three types: You all got that haunted look, you're a complete nutcase, or you're a newbie!"
"Gee, thanks. You're really boosting my self-esteem tonight."
"Heh!" They chuckle, "it's what I do!" They shoot me a finger gun, "anyway, what's your name stranger?"
"Tristan Boa."
"Axel Gi-oen." They grinned, but it was cut short when they shifted their weight—and something crunched sharply under their boot. They staggered back a step, cursing under their breath as they fell onto their bottom.
"You good?" I slurred out, squatting down to help- almost tripping myself.
They waved a hand at me like yeah, yeah, but when I squinted closer, I noticed their hand was... dripping.
Dark drops hit the pavement.
"Oh shit—you're bleeding!" I lurched up, way too fast, making the world tilt. I stumbled forward instinctively to catch their hand, grabbing their wrist instead.
"Relax," Axel said through gritted teeth. "Just a scratch—"
But it wasn't. I could see a nasty gash along the side of their palm, already welling with blood.
"You're gonna need stitches or something!" I said, heart hammering way harder than it should've. I felt weird. The smell of blood hit me like a brick. Sharp. Metallic. Sweet? Is this like that PTSD or whatever? Anyway… no time to think about that stuff. I swallowed thickly., gulping down air.
They were still talking—something about being fine, no big deal—but their voice sounded far away. All I could focus on was the thin stream trailing down their wrist, dripping slow and steady.
Without thinking—God, without thinking—my grip tightened on their wrist and I—
I dragged my thumb through the blood.
And then—
I brought it to my mouth.
My brain screamed WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! but my body moved like it wasn't mine.
I tasted it.
The second it hit my tongue, it was like a jolt straight to my chest. Every nerve lit up, fire racing under my skin. My knees nearly buckled. It was oddly sweet- like a can of soda or… i don't know- something else sweet but also tastes kinda metallic.
Axel yanked their arm back with a startled noise. "Dude—what the fuck?!"
I stumbled backward, horror and adrenaline slamming through me in waves.
"I—I don't know! I didn't mean to—I—!"
The taste lingered, hot and electric on my tongue. Axel stared at me intensely for quite a while as I stared back. We both made the same face of shock but Axel's was more disgusted.
Nervous, I wipe my mouth. Just then, I realize I've started to drool- and I hope it's drunk drool. Though, I'm pretty sure it's the other kind.
I gulp once more, "I'm… I'm sorry!" I step closer as they step back a bit. Though they end up cornered by a wall of dumpster.
Their breathing quickened. I could hear it—hell, I could feel it—like the thump of a war drum inside my skull.
I stepped closer again.
Axel pressed their back against the dumpster, wide-eyed, clearly about to bolt. "Hey, man, it's fine, just—stay back, alright? You're—"
Everything cut out, it all went to mush as the world tilted sideways. A thick, heavy heat rolled over my senses. Hunger slammed into me—pure, sharp, unbearable. It was like a thread inside me snapped, something wanted to crawl from the emptiness after it got a taste
With no warning, no thought, just movement, I lunged.
I wasn't the one in control of my body, it's like it's moving on its own! I wish I could say I was being possessed, but it's more like my eyes and mind were clouded over and my body acted on instinct.
Then, all I saw was a flash of Axel's shocked face, all I heard was a choked yelp—
Then darkness.
…
I woke up on my knees, cold concrete against my legs. The rain grew heavier and colder, I could feel it in the air and hear it along the ground. Axel's body slumped against my chest. I could feel it as it was icier than the air. My teeth—buried deep into their neck. Axel's skin was so pale now, sickly pale, and under my palms, their body was limp.
The coppery taste coated my mouth, thick and heady. Blood stained my lips, my chin, dripping down my throat in sluggish rivers.
I yanked back with a strangled gasp, hands trembling violently. I stumbled, falling onto my back, scrambling away like a kicked dog. My stomach twisted, bile burning at my throat.
"No... no, no, no—"
I stared at them.
At what I had done.
Axel's head lolled against the dumpster. Their eyes were clouded over. Their throat was torn open, a brutal, gory wound my teeth had carved. The rain's flooding was washing some of the blood away, swirling it into thin pink rivers along the concrete.
I wiped at my mouth frantically, smearing it across my skin.
"I didn't—" my voice cracked, hoarse. "I didn't mean to—I didn't—"
But the evidence was right there. Dripping from my chin. Cooling at my feet.
I killed them.
I ate them.
Tears blurred my vision. I staggered to my feet, my legs almost giving out again.
I couldn't stay here. If someone found me like this—if Kel came looking—
Think. THINK.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to move. I couldn't drag the body—it would leave a trail. But maybe I could...
I stared at the dumpster behind them.
It would be horrible. It would be wrong. It would be monstrous.
But I was already a monster, wasn't I?
Gritting my teeth so hard they hurt, I forced myself to grab the body under the arms and heave it up. My arms screamed from the effort—probably adrenaline—but I got them halfway into the dumpster. Their boot caught on the edge. I bit back a sob, shoved harder, and finally they slipped inside with a sickening thud.
I slumped over, dry-heaving until my ribs hurt.
When I finally straightened, I wiped my shaking hands on my jeans—making it worse, staining them red.
I felt my breathing not soften, it didn't slow down, it just got faster as I relived these past few moments. "I… i-i…"
"First blood?" A voice came from behind me.
I turned around fast enough to make myself dizzy.
"Who's there?" I snapped. Nothing. No one. Just the faint flicker of fluorescent lights, the heavy rain, and the stench of blood.
Then a voice, smooth and cold, like silk dipped in ice, perked up, "Unfortunate it had to happen this way, but every first time is messy."
I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs as I backed toward the nearest wall. "Who the fuck is there?!" I hissed. Did someone catch me already?!
"No need to shout, dear boy. I'm in your head, not out there." Even though I couldn't see whoever was the voice, I swear I heard a smirk.
"What the actual hell is going on?" I muttered, gripping my hair.
"Allow me to introduce myself," said the voice, too cheerful for the situation. "Claudious Vill Crumric Dystrung. Vampire Noble of the highest Dutch rank."
"... Claude," I said flatly.
"Claude?!" He sounded genuinely offended. "That's hardly dignified—"
"Claude it is," I smirked for a brief millisecond, already walking in a small circle to ground myself.
"Now, start talking. Why are you in my head? Why am I not dead? Why am I—" I gestured vaguely at the blood all over me, "this?"
Claude gave an exaggerated sigh in my mind. "Well… you see, Tristan... You probably recognize my voice as I was the host of the dinning room in that tower. Though, I am no longer the Host… Ironically, you're now my host. Er- However… since I botched the ritual, you're... ahem, one with the vampire essence and my, uh, soul. Congratulations!"
I stopped pacing. "Congratulations? Congratulations?! That's what you have to say?"
"First time's always messy," Claude said with a verbal shrug I could feel inside my chest. "Besides, look on the bright side! You survived."
I covered my face with my hands. "You are the worst imaginary friend ever."
"Imaginary?! I'll have you know, in my prime, entire cities—"
"Yeah, yeah. We'll get to the tragic downfall of Count Chocula later. Right now, I need to get out of here without getting arrested for murder!"
A pause. Then Claude said, more seriously: "Well. Perhaps I can be of some assistance."
I dropped my hands. "Finally."
Claude hummed in thought, annoyingly casual for someone squatting in my brain. "You're in quite the predicament, dear boy. Covered in blood, panicking, jittery… I would've thought you would start screaming!"
"I might start any second," I muttered, glancing over my shoulder even though I knew no one was there. It just felt like anyone could pop in any second.
"Well, then. Your best bet is to get off the street—now. Before anyone spots you."
"No shit," I snapped. "How?"
"Simple," Claude chuckled, a deep, rich sound that somehow made me more nervous. "Hood up, walk fast but not too fast, and stay in the shadows. The rain should help cover up the smell and wash the blood away. You're lucky it's night too."
I pulled my hood over my head with shaking hands. My fingers were slick with blood, and the inside of my hoodie soaked it right up. Gross. Absolutely disgusting.
"And if someone sees me?" I asked, already moving toward the mouth of the alley.
"Run faster than they can scream."
I swallowed thickly. I didn't like what Mr. Count Countula here was implying…
The rain was coming down harder now, drumming against the broken pavement. I kept my head low, slipping from one patch of darkness to the next. A stray cat bolted across the street ahead of me, I swear, as I jumped, I almost swallowed my heart.
"Left. Cut here," Claude guided lazily in my head, like this was just a casual Sunday stroll and not a blood-soaked nightmare.
This place was that old bakery that closed a few years ago. The bakery was abandoned—broken windows, graffiti, the door hanging off one hinge. I squeezed through the gap, ignoring the way the door creaked like a squealing pig. It smelled like wet rot and stale sugar.
"Lovely place," Claude quipped.
"Shut up," I retorted, creeping along the ruined counters.
I slipped out the back door and into another alley, this one even narrower. It twisted between the buildings like a rat maze. Perfect.
"Straight ahead. Then right at the dumpsters."
I followed his instructions without thinking, half-running, half-stumbling over trash and broken glass. My sneakers skidded once, and I caught myself with a hand against a gross, grimy brick wall. It left a handprint of blood.
Almost there. My apartment was only a few more blocks if I cut through the side streets.
"You know," Claude mused, just as I slowed down at an intersection, "you're handling this remarkably well- after the initial bit…- For a first-timer."
"If by 'handling well' you mean: Trying to ignore it and not get caught for murder- then thanks," I mocked as I snuck before a garbage bin. Waiting, I look around for anything. Then, a movement caught my eye—a car at the far end of the street. Headlights slicing through the rain.
Shit.
Quickly, I ducked beside the garbage bin. My heart thudded in my ears so loud it almost drowned out my thoughts. I tried to hold my breath, hoping it'll pass by. The car did, without slowing. Quickly, I let out a shaky breath and took off running again, sneaking between buildings, hopping a low fence (barely), and almost face planting into a puddle. I swear Claude has the most annoying, posh laugh ever.
Finally, I reached my street. The crappy old apartment complex loomed ahead, the rain watering the vines that covered it. Home sweet home…. ugh…I used the outside staircase and entered the keypad code, even though it's broken and unlocks the door regardless. They really need to get that fixed. I slowly went up the stairs, two steps at a time, heart pounding, and my hoodie dripping along the stairs, soaking the carpet..
My room, Apartment 3C-02, is finally in arms reach. I fumbled my key out of my pocket, nearly dropping it twice before shoving it into the lock and stumbling inside. I quickly locked the door back. For what felt like a long moment, I just stood there, panting, staring at the peeling paint of my front door…
"Fuck. My. Life," I said into the silence, hitting my head on the door.
Claude chuckled darkly. "Mmm. It's a bit late for that."
I peeled off my soaked hoodie and shirt, grimacing at the blood now caked to my clothes and skin. I needed a shower. And bleach. And maybe an exorcism. Definitely an exorcism.
But first—I staggered to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and stared at myself in the cracked mirror.
Nothing.
Blood smeared where my neck, my jawline, and my chest should've been.
"...Wha- What the fuck?!" I muttered loudly, staring harder at his nonexistent-reflection. My stomach dropped, it twisted and turned, barely- actually not at all understanding whats happening. First Axel, now this?
Claude's voice was softer now, almost pleased. "Ah. Looks like the bond is taking root."
I gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening. "Bond? What are you talking about? What's happening?"
"Did you forget? My essence is now in you and slowly merging with yours. But don't worry, nothing else will happen immediately," Claude said calmly. "Yet... you might want to prepare for a few... changes. Though, I know you at least noticed one of the biggest changes!"
"Changes? What kind of changes?" I demanded, staring at my reflection, rather- lack thereof. I could see the shower- but not myself, how does that make sense- how does any of thai make any sense! "What else is going to happen to me!?"
Claude chuckled, "Oh, just a few... adjustments, dear boy. Nothing to raise your blood pressure. Though, you might want to keep an eye on your heart rate. Might do wonders for your endurance later on. You should especially keep that in mind if there is a repeat of tonight!" He giggled, his fucking annoying ass laugh.
"You- ugh! What does that even mean?!" I pressed, frustration rising.
Claude simply laughed again! "Patience, Tristan. Patience. Calm down! Relax! You made it home safe and sound!"
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, giving up on trying to get a straight answer from the voice in my head. "Fine," I muttered, exhausted. "I just… I need a shower."
The hot water felt amazing, washing away the grime and blood stain, but not the unsettling feeling of having a vampire essence and soul melded into my body. To be fair, who would be okay with that? An insane person, that's who. Though, all of this is insane! As I am washing my hair, I even notice my ears are pointed! Great!
Just getting finished, I grabbed a towel to dry off. With one last glance of the nothing in the mirror, I headed to the kitchen. Spotting the chip bowl on the island, I instinctively reached for a few.
As I brought the chips to my mouth, Claude's voice boomed in my head. "Stop!"
Not noticing in time, I popped a chip into my mouth. The taste was… awful. It wasn't just that it didn't taste good, it tasted repulsive. Like someone mixed metal and spoiled milk. No- that would've been better. I immediately spat it into the trash bin. I bet if I had more I would've thrown up right in the trash bin. I leaned on the counter, trying to get rid of the horrible aftertaste in my mouth.
"I forgot about that!" I groaned, my voice tight. "I hate this…"
"As I said, you've changed," Claude retorted calmly. "Obviously, human food will no longer agree with you. Wait- you already-?"
"So what do I eat then?" I demanded, interrupting him, "I-I…."
Claude and ! was silent for a moment, then he said, "That, Tristan, is something you should figure out. Hint, you just ran from it."
I glared at the trash bin, then at the window. The rain was still falling furiously and it layered the window so everything was blurry. It was no use. Arguing with Claude was like arguing with a wall, an incredibly annoying wall. With a heavy sigh, I spotted a bottle of cheap wine on the counter. I grabbed it, thinking it was for when Kel and I would have a night in- but who knows anymore. Either way, I didn't care. Now that the adrenaline has calmed down a bit, I can feel the booze hitting back. I twisted the cap off and took a swig. For a cheap wine, it's not bad.
Wine in hand, I trudged to my room and flopped onto the bed. "Just great," I mumbled. "Just absolutely freaking great." And with that, I shut my eyes, letting the wine help me drift off to sleep, praying that when I woke up, this nightmare would be over.