It was a dark and stormy night...
The wind howled as the rain poured down in sheets. Lightning danced and thunder rolled across the sky. The light flickered across the rain-bathed face of a young man as he shivered, pulling his red leather coat tighter for added protection.
He put his hands together and rubbed them, breathing hot air into them in an attempt to gather warmth. His pearlescent oversized incisors glinted in the dim light provided by a lightning strike that glinted upon his already gleaming artic, cat-like eyes.
The light shone on his raven hair that was tied in a loose, luscious ponytail that was long enough to caress his waist. His crimson leather-trench coat covered a black,red-lettered 'PARANOIA' t-shirt that was tucked into black jeans that were tucked into black and buckled knee-length monster stomps.
Shaking off an ominous feeling, he trudged his way down the waterlogged streets of a sleepy town of only 200 people. Making light work of the catacomb-like maze of back streets and alleys, he came to a worn steel door from which pulsing music could be heard.
The heavy metal door opened. The hinges screamed in loud protest. It has obviously been a long time since they had been oiled. Inside the club was dark, illuminated only by the pulsing colored lights. A heavy beat and occasional guitar riff pulsed throughout his body through the soles of his shoes as he made his way towards the VIP door.
The young man slowly paved a way through the fog-covered, densely packed concrete dance floor. Weaving around the crowd of people gyrating their bodies to the music against like a seething pit of insects, and the club's gothic decor, he arrived at his destination. He came to a door that led to a hallway that led to a flight of stairs that went 2 stories down.
Ambrose placed both of his hands on the old cast iron railing that adorned the staircase. He then hoisted his body up then shot out like an arrow released from a bows quiver. Barely a whisper could be heard until his thick boots hit the ground. The shock was absorbed through the thick soles of his boots as he landed like a cat, or a superhero, as he would like to think. After arriving dramatically at the bottom of the stairs, he immediately faced another door. This one had a window, but it was too smoky to see through it clearly.
Opening the door, he was slapped in the face by the music and the body heat of other patrons, the teen could feel it vibrating off his skin as he entered the room. People packed the club wall to wall, dancing, writing, and grinding against each other. The flashing lights gave everything an otherworldly feeling.
As he walked across the floor he caught sight of lovers attached at the neck as well as at the lips. He paid little mind to it, as this was a common occurrence here. Vampires will be vampires after all.
Not needing to hide his abilities, he jumped over the crowd and landed elegantly on a barstool that was available. A girl with sunglasses and a bandana smiled at him. "What will it be then, Sugar?", she asked in a thick Greek accent. Her voice was sensual, with a slight lisp.
Ambrose looked at the woman and smiled, "Antoinette special please, extra plasma".
"You got it, hun." she winked at him and walked away.
He looked around the club; it was full of many people of all kinds. There were bikers, college students, goths, gangbangers, junkies, etc. His love of this place stemmed from this feeling that anybody and everybody belonged. Prejudice was little to none at this establishment and it seemed to consistently stay that way.
Usually humans, unless of mixed blood or practitioners of witchcraft, were not allowed inside for their own safety. As he was lost in his thoughts, a girl with long black hair, dressed in a corset with a matching miniskirt and knee-high boots, made her way towards him. Her skin was pale and dewey, with a sensual glow to it. She set large crimson ruby eyes upon him and locked her gaze.
"Hey cutie, haven't seen you here before, you new?" she asked in a thick accent.
Silence.
"I'm Helena," she said as she grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it.
"Ambrose" he replied.
She giggled and sat down next to him.
"So what brings you here?" she asked, as she placed her hand on his knee.
"Just wanted a drink and to listen to the music," he responded.
She looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. "You don't strike me as the type to come to a place like this."
He looked at her and smirked. "What type is that exactly?"
She licked her lips and moved closer to him, "The type that likes a good time," she whispered in his ear.
He could feel her fiery breath on his neck, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn't had a good time in a while, and she was definitely tempting.
Ambrose looked at her, rested his chin on his hand, and drawled lazily, "Maybe I am."
She bit her lip and began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Ice-blue eyes widening, a scowl etched itself into his flawless features. His hand grabbed hers, and a growl escaped his lips in disapproval.
"What's the matter, don't you want a good time?" she asked in a whiny voice.
He looked at her and stood up from his stool. "I'm not paying for it."
She frowned and crossed her arms. "Fine then, fuck you."
He smirked and put his hand on her shoulder. "No...but you would love to."
Helena looked at him and bit her lip, "Damn... I would."
Ambrose showed his pearly-white elongated-canines just when his drink was placed in front of him, "Piss off Helena, the Odyssey is not for your trade, slut". The gorgon's snakes raised up and the bandana fell off. Her bright red scales glinted in the lights.
"Bitch", the seductress hissed and stomped off.
He looked at the gorgon and smirked, "Thanks."
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
He looked at her and raised both of his eyebrows, "Helping me avoid a shitty situation."
She laughed and sat down next to him, "So what brings you here?"
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "Well, it's the only decent place to get a drink", a thick Greek drawl rumbled from his throat. His pale azure eyes captured hers through the pens of her sunglasses, causing him to wince in pain. Vampires had certain advantages and resistances to the magic of others but were not impervious. A gorgon's petrification, although not effective, hurts like hell.
The gorgon smiled, "Sorry about that", she sashayed away, her snakes laying flat, otherworldly, and beautiful. Humans thought they were ugly, but man….they could not be more wrong. They were different, dangerous, but gorgeous. Mermaids of the land, because instead of a fish's tail, they have snakes. The only time a Gorgon was ugly was if she was hideous on the inside. It showed on the outside as well.
Sighing, he picked up his glass and finished what was left of his drink. The O-negative caused his blue eyes to flash purple for a few seconds. He got up and walked to the counter to pay. The gorgon was still there, talking to the other bartender. She looked at him and winked. The corner of Ambrose's lips curved upwards, and a playful glint shone in his azure eyes. Smoothing out his ponytail, the young man paid and walked out of the club.
He trekked back upstairs and through the gyrating mortal flesh and back out on the back streets and alleyways. Ambrose broke out onto a run and grabbed a hold of a fire escape ladder. Using the momentum, he launched himself up and onto the rooftop. His shadow was all that could be seen as he raced through the night. The Mediterranean-inspired manor was on the other side of town.
The manor was actually built during the antebellum period and has stood tall for centuries. He arrived and scaled-down the drainpipe and into his bedroom through his window. The teen then took off his leather jacket and stripped down to his underwear. He proceed to lay down in bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. In a matter of minutes, he was out for the night.
The next morning, Ambrose woke up to the sound of his mother calling him for breakfast. He got up and put on a pair of ripped jeans, a black hoodie with a white tee underneath, and his red leather coat. Finally, he ran into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, combed his waist-length black hair, put on deodorant and mint/tea-tree oil on his wrists, behind his ears, and on his throat. It was a natural cologne and was all he needed since he did not seem to sweat in the least.
Finally, he washed his face and examined himself in the mirror, flashing his fangs with a cheeky smile. After he was happy with his hygiene, glossy hair, smooth skin, and appearance, he walked out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It had taken him some time because the sun was already steadily beaming in through the windows and into the hallway.
Ambrose squinted his eyes against the sunlight coming in through the tinted stain glass windows and scowled. There was no burning or pain since he was only a half-vampire. Growing up without a father and since his mother wouldn't tell him anything, he had always assumed that he was half-human as well. So, the sun wouldn't kill him but that doesn't mean he likes it.
The metallic sound of his steel toes rang through the hall as he exited his room and headed towards the staircase. Once he reached the spirals, he performed another parkour with his feet hitting the parquet wood of the stairwell below.
He reached the bottom and walked into the kitchen.
"Morning, mom", he said as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out the carton of O-positive mixed with juice. His mouth opened and half of the carton disappeared in seconds, causing the youth to smile in satisfaction and lick his lips.
"Morning sweetie, I made you breakfast!" his mother beamed as she pointed to a bowl of fruit on the table along with a quart of milk, a bowl, a spoon, and a box of Yummo's.
He looked at it in disgust, "Thanks, but I'm not hungry".
She frowned and looked at him, "At the least eat a damn piece of fruit, Ambrose. ". His mother, Delilah, growled and shook her head. She then grabbed an orange from the porcelain fruit bowl and chucked it at his head. The orange bounced off and rolled onto the table.
Ambrose picked it up and looked at it. A smirk played at his lips as threw it back at her. It hit her in the forehead and rolled off onto the floor. "You're so childish", she said as she picked up the orange, peeled it, and bit into it.
The teen laughed, walked over to her, hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek.
She frowned and wiped it off, "Little jackass".
"Mom, you know I love you-u-u-u.", he said in a singsongy voice as he opened the front door.
"Wait! Where are you going? Don't you have school?" she asked.
"Nah, I've been skipping that since the 7th grade," he winked as he walked out the door, leaving his mother slack-jawed.
Ambrose walked down steps connected to the porch and onto the sidewalk leading out of his front yard. After putting in his earbuds, he looked around to see the old man who lived across the street was sitting in his window. Smiling, the young man waved, and the old man returned the wave.
Turning to his right he put his hands in his pockets and started walking down the sidewalk towards town. Ambrose loved this time of day. The sky was a mixture of oranges, reds, and yellows as the sun was coming up over the horizon. Its beauty was unmatched and looked like a surreal painting.
Suddenly his peace was destroyed as the sound of a motorbike grew near. Soon after the bike passed, there was the sound of an object landing behind him, causing him to turn around. There was a brown package that was laying on the ground.
Ambrose walked over to it and grimaced. "I don't like the looks of this", he thought as he picked it up and opened it, ignoring every warning signal inside his head. He didn't hold the box for long after he lifted the lid. The package soon crashed back to the ground with a harsh thud.
A bloody head soon rolled out of the box as it hit the ground. Beautiful and agitated snakes popped out with their eyes open and full of rage. The head belonged to the gorgon from last night, this time without protective shades. The eyes of the snake caught Ambrose's for a split second, but that was all it took. He quickly clutched his head in agony in an attempt to fight off the spell that was placed on him. It was a painful struggle due to the fact that a gorgon's stare is extremely powerful.
After about 10 minutes of not being able to see and an excruciating headache from the depths of Hades. He walked over to the head and wrapped it up before digging a hole and burying it. "Rest in peace, beautiful ", he whispered with a sigh.
"What the fuck does this mean? There hasn't been an occult hate crime in years. Not even a murder or an assault has happened recently," he thought as he headed towards town.
As Ambrose walked down the sidewalk, he came across a utility hole cover in the middle of the sidewalk. It was made up of cast iron and had a diameter of about 12 inches. Ambrose side-eyed it warily. In most stories, the protagonist would investigate. But this isn't most stories.
"Yeah. Hell no", he whistled and bolted down the street just to be grabbed by a large oaf of a man. His best friend.
"Hey! You didn't text me back! What's up?"
"Not now, I got a lot on my mind", he said as he was pulled away.
His best friend, Devon, more or less manhandled and dragged him all the way to the bike shop that they frequented that was around the corner. The sun gleamed against his mocha skin and kind brown eyes. The two had been best friends since the 7th grade, as well as partners in crime. Unsurprisingly this had caused them to be in and out of the principal's office enough time to be expelled on multiple occasions.
"What's going on, man? You have been acting really weird," he said as he opened the door to the shop.
"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood right now," he said as he walked inside.
The shop was pretty empty, as it was a bit early for bikers to be rolling in. He walked over to the counter and put his head down it hard, causing a slight flash of pain to flicker across his features. He became lost in his thoughts as the coolness from the counter helped him to calm down a bit. Although the gorgon and he had never been close, the fact that she was killed with her head being dumped next to him, he had an unsettling feeling.
He snapped out of his daze as a smatter of sunscreen was smeared on the exposed side of his face by Devon.
"Hey! I can do that myself", he said as he snatched it out of his hand.
"You need to protect yourself from the sun, man. You'll burn up like a marshmallow if you're not careful," he said as he put some on his own face.
"You know I don't burn you dumb-. Forget it, I'm going to go check out that new bike that just came in", Ambrose said with a growl as he walked away towards the back of the shop.
Devon continued to follow him with a hand full of sun goo, determined to protect his best friend from himself.
"I'll be out in a minute", Ambrose said as he walked over to the counter in the back of the shop.
Ambrose grabbed a pack of cigarettes and an old zippo lighter off the counter. The teen put the pack in his pocket and flicked the lighter on. He then held the lighter up to his face and inhaled deeply.
After lighting up, he saw a young man with long curly black hair that covered his eyes. His skin was pallid and white as snow. The young man let out a yawn and gave Ambrose a slight nod of his head.
Ambrose smiled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Trey, what's up-Hey! Son-of-a-, I was using that!", his smile broke into a scowl as Devon stole his cigarette and stomped it out with a disapproving look.
"You know those things will kill you one day", Devon said as he put the pack of cigarettes into the trash.
"Yeah, well, undeath's a bitch," Ambrose said with a chuckle.
He then walked over to the door and looked out at the rising sun. It was a nice day out, not too hot or too cold. He loved days like these. Days when he could just ride his bike and go off-roading in the woods with his best friend, not worrying about school or decapitated women.
"Devon, Trey, we probably should ya know go to school before my mom kills all three of us." Ambrose sighed and grabbed his backpack from behind the counter.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming", Devon said as he grabbed his own backpack off the floor and Trey followed suit along with a thick black umbrella, a bowler hat, and shades after smearing his face with sunscreen.
They walked out of the shop and headed down the road towards the school.
"So... you're really not going to tell me what's wrong with you?", Devon asked.
"I told you it's nothing", Ambrose said as he looked at him.
Devon was about to say something else when they heard a loud revving noise coming from behind them. They turned around to see a large group of bikers coming down the road.
"Fuck, it's these assholes again", he said as he quickened his pace.
They were a gang of wanna-be bikers who loved to harass students from their school. There were rumors floating around that they used to be part of a much larger gang, but after a violent dispute with the police and the other gang members, they fled and made a new gang in the woods near the school.
Trey and Ambrose both bared their fangs while Devon showed little reaction except for grabbing them both and making a run for the school, carrying them like oversized footballs. Not long after, they heard the rev of the engines growing louder as they made a beeline for the school.
"Open the gate!", Devon screamed as he ran towards it, giving a frantic look to the gate guard. The guard nodded and punched in the numbers on the keypad, granting them access. The large metal doors slowly opened as they reached them, and they all quickly ducked through, just as a tire came within inches of Devon's leg.
The three boys all stood up and panted as they looked at the bikers, who had all stopped at the gate. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," one biker growled.
The boys all looked at each other, then they faced the bikers, and stuck out their tongues in unison. Steam could be almost seen coming from the bikers' heads, and well…. literally from Treys. Devon frantically tried to put out the smoking tassel of hair on the vampire's head. Then the trio ran into school, laughing.
Along with the smell of Trey's sunburnt scalp, there were the overwhelming scents of aftershave, perfume, and cologne that smacked them in the face as they opened the heavy doors that granted entrance into the building. Overcrowded hallways were bustling with people trying to get to their classes and Ambrose, not caring about politeness, weaved and pushed through the crowds while holding his friends' shirts so they didn't get separated. Finally, the boys reached their lockers without any further interruptions and opened them.
"So, what class do you have first?", Devon asked after cramming a hat on Trey's head to disguise the burnt bits of blonde hair.
"Um, I've got science with Mr. Frank", Ambrose said as he slammed his locker door closed.
"I've got history," Trey groaned taking out his books.
"I've got math", Devon said with a smile like the good little nerd he was.
They all groaned in annoyance, aside from Trey who was lame, parted ways and headed to their classes.
Ambrose had a relatively uneventful day. The teen went through the boring motions of his classes and didn't talk to much of anyone. He noticed that there were significantly fewer people in his classes than there were last year. Shrugging, he chalked it up to it just being the first day back after the break and everyone being nervous and unsure of themselves.
After lunch, there was AP World History class and he took his preferred spot in the back of the room. Ambrose noticed that there were about 15 people in the class as he set his bag down next to him. He then set his phone on his desk and pulled out his earbuds as the bell rang, eliciting a groan from him and many others.
The door to the classroom opened, and a man walked in wearing a black suit, with a long black coat on even though it was the middle of summer. He had pale white skin and short black hair that was slicked back. The man had an angular face with sharp features and dark eyes.
A short whistle flew from Ambrose's lips, "Hello Dracula ", as the man took off his coat. The classroom was filled with sniggering and dirty looks.
"That's Mr. Demar, not Dracula," he said in a dark tone.
The teacher walked up and down the rows of desks and looked at the students with an icy glare.
"Now then, let's get a couple of things straight", he began. "I'm not here to entertain you, I'm not here to babysit you and I'm sure as hell not here to make friends".
"If you want that, go join a frat", he spat on the ground, "I'm here to teach you what you need to know to pass your classes and then some. I'm also here to make sure you learn to love what you're learning".
"You see", he said as he walked up and down the rows, "Most of what you learn in high school, will be useless by the time you graduate. The world is changing at a breakneck speed and by the time you get out into it, the world you know now will be radically different".
"So", he said as he turned to face the class,
"I'm here to teach you about the world, wars and all. I'm here to teach you about history, current events, and everything in between. You may not like what I teach you or how I teach you but I can guarantee that it will all be useful to you." Mr. Demar walked up to the whiteboard and began writing.
"Now then," he said as he turned around, "Who can tell me what this is?"
A smirk played at the edge of Ambrose's lips. "Well, Mr. Demar, that in fact is a whiteboard. They were invented to provide information to others. How do these wonderful inventions work? Well, a marker is used to write words, numbers, etc to convey information," sarcasm dripped from his mouth and his eyes crinkled in sync with his dimples as a full-blown smile etched itself on his porcelain face.
"Hilarious... Ambrose, was it?", Mr. Demar said as he erased the board after checking the seating chart, "Now who can tell me what a vampire is?" The class was silent for a moment, and then a hand slowly crept up into the air.
"Yes, you miss...", Demar paused as he looked at the name tag on her desk, "Allison".
"Um, vampires are make-believe creatures, they have no basis in reality," she said with annoyance in her voice.
"Oh? And how do you know this?", Demar asked as he walked towards her, his eyes fixated on hers. She swallowed hard as she struggled to come up with an answer that wouldn't get her in trouble, "They... they don't exist... people just made them up".
"Really now?", he said as he walked behind her desk and stood over her,
Ambrose's eyes glinted, and he growled softly. This bastard was using charms on her. It's a mental power that only vamps are equipped with, it can, well charm someone or to make them terrified. His growl was heard by no one but Mr.Demar, who raised his brows at him.
"I think we should move on now," he said as he walked back to the front of the class. "Who can tell me what a ghoul is?"
A boy with red hair raised his hand and Demar called on him, "A ghoul is an undead creature that eats flesh".
"Very good, they are also known as corpse eaters", Demar said as he wrote the name on the board.
"Actually... they prefer to eat the flesh of the living. In some myths, they are half-vampires or just rotters. They are best described as zombies that do not spread the life-state as a disease. This is due to the fact that it is not actually a disease, it's a curse," Ambrose's thick Greek accent drawled out lazily.
"And just how do you know this, Mr. Ambrose? I have studied mythology and the occult for years and have never heard of this," Demar said whilst crossing his arms and focusing his gaze on the teen.
"Well, maybe if you went into the field more you'd actually be correct while teaching every once in a while, sir," the boy said through a yawn, his fangs glinting in the classroom's dull light.
"Why you ignorant little-"
"Actually sir, he's correct", another lazy voice cut through Mr. Demar's raised nasally voice.
The man's head whipped around to look at a girl with tan skin and emerald eyes. She tilted her head with a slight smile, causing a waterfall of her midnight locks to cascade down her shoulders. Her name was Cinnamon Lunaris, a procrastinator, bombshell, and world-class smart ass.
"Seriously, you kids-" Mr. Demars pale face scrunched in distaste as he got ready to launch into a full lecture.
"It's widely accepted now that ghouls are rapidly deteriorating humanoids, due to the fact their bodies are no longer viable vessels capable of supporting life. Because of this, they desperately crave life's essence, which is blood. They consume the flesh of others to get as much as possible. One way to become one in myth is by a Vampiric transformation that was improperly done or incomplete, but that's horseshit or exceedingly rare. It usually results from a failed reanimation by a mage or a purposeful reanimation of a dead vessel without a soul by a necromancer,"
"Exactly", Ambrose beamed at Cinnamon, giving her an air high-five that she then returned.
"I have a question," Alison said, raising her hand, "How come you know so much about the undead?"
"Well, that's easy to answer", Ambrose said as he winked and laughed.
"So?", Allison looked at Ambrose.
His lips curved up, "It's called studying, dipshit", his words elicited a snicker from Cinnamon's mouth.
Just then the bell rang and Ambrose got up, put on his backpack, and left the room with the flood of students. The boy soon disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, a shadow lurking in a corner of the now empty classroom shot out of the room in pursuit.