Advice is advice because you either take it or not.
Monster Who Wears The Devil's Mask
The fall of raindrops is something that purifies the soul. But most of the time it just brings mud and slush.
I filled another mug with beer and delivered it to a patron. There weren't many people at the pub, as we're talking about a rainy Wednesday night. Only two wretched men were warped enough to spend their free time here in the middle of the week, on an uncomfortably wet day like this. One of them was snoring peacefully in the corner. The other one sometimes visited the shrine of the porcelain goddess to pour out his heart, his soul, and the contents of his stomach kneeling in front of her altar.
I sat down at one of the desks by the windows and smoothed out the red, crumpled, here and there alcohol-stained tablecloth. I dug out a pack of cigarettes from my pocket, shook one out, stuck it in my mouth, and lit it. I inhaled deeply the prickly smoke as I stared out of the window.
I was watching the race of tiny water drops on the frosty glass without any interest. I loved these rainy days because they were so uneventful. Most of the monsters, much like humans, disgusted by the wet coldness of the rain, preferred to stay at home and weren't acting too naughty. This kind of peace is extremely rare and dear to monsters.
Well, needless to say, in the end, this was not such a peaceful Wednesday night. The first warning sign was that in addition to my two regulars, someone else visited the pub despite the not-so-pleasant weather conditions. I raised my head and looked at the door. A moment later, the black-lacquered wood squeaked softly.
A tall figure in a long coat entered, the hood was pulled deep into his face. The door clicked silently behind him. He just stood there for a moment, surveying the place. In the deafening silence, only the thuds of plump waterdrops falling from his coat could be heard. The next warning sign was that I didn't recognize him.
I relentlessly extinguished the half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. The unknown man finally walked over to my table.
"Are you the bartender?"
I looked up at the ominous man in an almost annoyingly slow manner. Under the hood, I could only see the line of his chin and his lips pressed tightly together.
"Yeah," I replied indifferently, getting up from my desk. "How can I help you?"
"I came to do business," he answered, sitting down in the opposite chair.
That was the third warning sign. Eventually, I sat back in my chair, watched the man silently for a moment, and then raised one of my eyebrows. "Business, huh?"
"You're the informant, aren't you?" he asked.
I nodded and my eyes quickly examined the pale face. The barely noticeable scar on his neck didn't escape my attention either.
"What kind of information is a second-generation vampire looking for?"
The man's face hardened, each and every muscle in his body tensed ready to either fight or flee. That was the moment he realized that he wasn't in control.
"A newborn, if I'm not mistaken," I added.
I saw the confusion and question in his eyes that he was trying to hide at all costs. Poor newborn vampires can't even imagine how different they are from the older ones. Ancient bloodsuckers are cold, listless, and they never let their instincts overwhelm them. New-borns are vulnerable, easy to deceive, but most of all, fun to play with.
"So?" I asked, "What business?"
The vampire gathered himself together and spoke again. "I heard you have a special client. They say that sometimes the Demon shows up around this place."
I laughed, though there was no joy in my voice, and when I stopped, I took a hard glance at the bloodsucker.
"The White Demon," I started ominously, "doesn't exist."
The vampire slapped his fist on the table. The ashtray jumped.
"He exists," he argued, "I saw him!"
"Nonsense." I waved dismissingly. "The White Demon doesn't exist."
"I saw him," he assured me.
There was a moment of silence in the pub again, only the vampire's fierce breaths could be heard. I sized him up again with a sharp look.
"What if he really does exist?" I asked slightly amused, and the vampire's eyes widened in surprise. "What business do you have with him?"
"I want to find him," he replied hastily.
"More and more people come to me chasing this fiend," I explained in a light tone, "They ask about this alleged demon. They hope I can answer their questions. But, you know, if there's a monster like that..." I leaned closer whispering the rest gleefully, "don't you think he's hunting the ones just like you?"
The vampire backed away and stared at me in disbelief.
"I don't know anything about this alleged demon," I stated, "The only thing I know is that those who ask about him will never return. They disappear as if they never existed."
"You haven't been a part of this world for long, so you don't know how it works." I continued. "There are things we don't ask about, and there are things we turn a blind eye to if we want to live," and with that, I grabbed the empty mug, stood up, and headed for the counter.
"Oh, yes," I added, turning back. "This advice is free. But if you don't order something, I kindly urge you to leave. I don't tolerate monsters causing trouble."
At the time, I had no idea that this mere vampire was a harbinger of something truly ugly.
(...)
I hate mornings; they always come too soon.
A faint glow of the sun crept over the starless black sky, flooding the attic of the 13th apartment on 'D' Street with its invigorating but rather annoying light. My gaze lingered on the curtainless window for a while.
After half an hour of pointless staring, I decided that it would be much more appropriate to get out of bed and start dressing up. I took a glance at the other bed, not far from my own. The quilt was half-turned out of its cover and crumpled, forming a lump in the center of the bed. One pillow lay on the floor, and the other hung halfway off the bed. The familiar sight made me sigh as I went to tidy up, wondering where the idiot might be.
I made my way to the bathroom, which in terms of spaciousness strongly resembled a mouse hole. It was only a two-meter-by-two-meter room, so I never lingered there for long. Unlike Alex, who paid little heed to the water bill when he wanted to soak in the shower for half an hour. After that, I wasn't too concerned about his well-being either when I saw the bill with all those zeros and felt the urge to strangle him."
I let out a deep sigh and turned my gaze to the reflection in the mirror. I stared at myself for a moment without moving, then I pursed my lips and abandoned the futile attempt to tame my unruly black hair.
"Good morning, Shay," my reflection said, his voice echoing and bearing little resemblance to mine. It was much deeper and more sinister.
"Leave me alone," I replied coldly about to turn away when the creature in the mirror spoke once more.
"I'll grant a wish if you release me," he added, wearing an innocent, friendly smile, though his blue eyes flashed with slyness.
No, bogeys can't cast spells, let alone fulfill wishes. Yet for some reason, Berry imagines himself to be a djinni. Never mind that djinni disappeared a thousand years ago.
I gave my counterpart a meaningful look, but he was just standing in the same pose.
"Try something new, Berry." I sighed, grabbing a towel from its holder and tossing it over the mirror.
"Shay~," he said almost purring, "Wait a minute! I'll grant any of your wishes, just tell me what..."
He couldn't finish the argument, as I slammed the bathroom door loudly behind me.
Berry has been here longer than Alex or me. I believe he's been stuck in that mirror for ages. Perhaps a mage grew tired of his nonsense and trapped him there. So currently, this specimen of its nerve-racking species isn't actually a bother, except for his occasional attempts to convince one of us to release him. Alex sometimes talks with him when Berry reminisces about the old days. Me? Oh, no, I have neither the time nor the patience to bear with him.
I will be honest, my experience with Berry isn't great. When I first met the bogey, I was almost scared out of my wits. Imagine this: You're peacefully brushing your teeth, and then your reflection suddenly flashes a sly smile and says hi or something like that. You would surely jump out of your skin in fright! I almost swallowed my toothbrush.
It's been nearly two years since I moved into this tiny apartment's attic and got to know him. They say the first impression is the most important. I think there could be something about that because I haven't been able to muster up the will to warm up to him ever since.
Throwing my school bag over my shoulder, I set off.
Truth be told, Alex and I lived modestly. In a cramped attic with a narrow hallway, just one bedroom, a tiny kitchen that could barely fit two people, and an even smaller bathroom. We were poor. We were living on a tight budget, wearing second-hand clothes, and barely making ends meet. Nevertheless, it was a better life than before. We both attended school and worked in the afternoons. It wasn't easy, but life isn't known for being easy. None of us complained, not once.
I left the apartment, descended the stairs, and turned onto the section of the road labeled 'D' after a few meters. It wasn't likely to see cars in motion at such an early hour. It wasn't a bustling road; despite being on the outskirts of
The street was lined with houses on my left, each boasting big satellite dishes, and on my right, stood enormous, ancient chestnut trees. Behind those colossal trees laid a fence, marking the boundary of the gardens belonging to the houses on the upper street.
In the morning, just before the sun began to rise, a sense of unease washed over you as you walked down 'D' Street. It wasn't much different from the other streets; they all seemed dark and foreboding, despite the colorful houses. The houses appeared neat, almost inviting. Yet, the eerie silence of the morning, the grayness of dawn, and the huge, unpruned chestnut trees, with their drooping, gnarled branches resembling skeletal fingers, sent shivers down the spine of anyone passing by.
When something needed to be arranged at such an hour, or late at night, humans typically quickened their pace. They cautiously hushed their breath, their hearts pounding in their ears. They paid extra attention to every subtle noise, sometimes even glancing over their shoulders for no apparent reason, just to ensure no one was watching. When they spotted no one, a sigh of relief would escape their lips, and they'd continue on their way. However, their senses remained on high alert, attentively scanning their surroundings until they reached their destination.
The unease they felt wasn't solely due to the place itself, for the village was rather ordinary with average residents, average houses, and grappling with average problems. So, why did humans sense lurking danger in the shadows? Well, perhaps it's because the danger truly exists. Pécs is teeming with monsters.
The road abruptly veered left, but I didn't follow it; instead, I headed toward the old, abandoned pharmacy. My gaze swept the surroundings for a brief second. I glanced toward the end of the street, where the old, locked-up dormitory stood. No one knows for certain why it was sealed off. When someone inquires, old folks mutter something about the building no longer being needed. Nevertheless, even those who have traversed these dusty streets for their entire lives can't be entirely sure.
Anyway, as usual, humans are drawn to mysteries — in this case, mostly the younger generation. Many youngsters consider it the most amazing idea to break in and explore the old place, secure in the company of their gang. After all, what's the worst that could happen? They might encounter a couple of sizable rats, and then what? It doesn't seem like a big deal. This is the mindset that prevails when they venture into the dense darkness of the abandoned building, only to never return.
Humans have no idea what creatures are lurking within. Ignorance is indeed bliss, but only until they succumb to their curiosity. Every two to three months, a few daredevils decide to try their luck, ensuring the monsters dwelling there don't experience a shortage of young human prey. Yes, there are these mysterious disappearances, and you might wonder: Why aren't the police investigating?
Well, it's quite simple. In that place, humans have no power. Those who step across the boundary of the dormitory become, from that moment on, the rightful prey of vampires. The city administration readily acknowledges this fact. As long as the trouble is at the end of their yard and not in front of their doorstep, there is no problem, right? So, these sweet little vampires occasionally indulge in a young teenager or two. But then, why isn't anyone searching for them? What about the parents?
Well, they would have a hard time finding someone they don't even remember. I have no idea how the damned bloodsuckers do it, but whoever disappears literally disappears. As if they have never existed. There's no memory left, no object that was theirs, or a footprint they have left behind — nothing. They can use some kind of magic since I remember everything myself. So it probably doesn't affect those who have a few drops of monster blood flowing in their veins.
The situation is dire, but there's little we can do about it. Despite their ignoble nature, these scoundrels are rather cunning. They conduct their activities in the most reasonable manner, at least from the perspective of vampire society. Of course, if we were to seek a human's opinion on the matter, the situation would appear different. As long as noble vampires face no risk of human discovery, they won't lift a finger to halt the trash of their kind in their activities — they wouldn't want to risk breaking a freshly manicured claw, after all.
I sighed deeply and pressed on before a pair of red glowing eyes could have appeared in the gap between the planks nailed to the window. As I walked, I passed by a recently opened daycare. Colorful butterflies and painted letters adorned the wall, proudly proclaiming the establishment right next to the pharmacy. It's a peculiar choice to open such a cheerful place on the same street as the remnants of a rundown dormitory infested with vampires. It perfectly illustrates human ignorance.
But, if you ask me, I prefer them to remain rather ignorant. Those who come to realize the secrets lurking in the darkness either meet a grim fate or become ensnared by it—there's no third way. Monsters are exceptionally adept at hiding their secrets. If a human were to uncover their existence, he (or sometimes she) would be hunted down without mercy. After all, if it really came to light that we live among humans, it would undoubtedly lead to mass hysteria, wouldn't it? And we certainly don't need that. As I pondered the potential for a world war with such depth, I arrived at the bus stop. Several humans were already waiting there.
While I waited for the bus, I rifled through my bag to find my earphones and phone, then started some music. When I looked up from the scratched screen, a crowd had already gathered around me. Soon, I spotted the whitish, shabby bus approaching at the end of the turn. As it was stopping, it screeched loudly, the sound resembling the roar of a fury. Grumbling, it came to a full stop in front of the waiting passengers, who one by one boarded the bus. I was the last in line.
It was not at all surprising that there was no free seat left for me. Usually, there won't be any free seats left, even if I go to school this early. Eventually, I put down the bag on the floor, and then just enjoyed the music. On the verge of my thoughts, I could still feel the pull as the bus started.
After a few stops, as the bus door closed with a whistle, a familiar scent wafted to my nose. It closely resembled the typical scent of the forest, the aroma of fallen leaves, moss, and soil. A group of shapeshifters boarded the bus, chatting loudly and laughing. I'd seen them around a few times; they attended my school, maybe a year ahead of me.
Well, yes, monsters also go to school. They live a social life. Oh, and they're integrated into human society — at least the majority. Those who are not, continue to hunt humans following the old laws of nature.
At the last moment, I grabbed my bag and got off the bus. Welcome to M. B. High.
So, I trudged up the stairs, grumbling under my breath. By the time I reached the top of the steps, painted with some vile goose-shit yellow glaze, I was already cursing the entire concept of school. Nevertheless, I made my way to the unsightly closet, which was an odd mix of greenish-blue hues, the true color of which defied any clear definition. I opened its door and greeted the others who had already gathered. Some sat in the closets, while others leaned against the stair railing. I removed my coat and let it hang on one of the upward-curving hanger hooks.
I knew Alex had been standing behind me for a while, but I didn't turn around. I allowed him enough time to marshal his thoughts for what would likely be a chunky explanation.
Alex hadn't come home the previous night. The faint scent of perfume lingered on him, leaving little room for doubt about the situation. A simple message from him could have spared me a night of unease, though.
"Hey," he finally blurted out after an extended silence.
I could see the discomfort in his eyes, and I let out a deep sigh.
"Let's go," I finally said, picking up my books and bag before setting off to find our classroom.
You might think I was overreacting, but living as a monster is undeniably perilous. That's why monsters often gather in groups.... but for us, it's just the two of us.
There are two things I hate about school more than anything: the crowd and the noise. Well, you can find a generous serving of both here. I was weaving my way between two groups of teenagers when that sloth Alex finally caught up with me.
I came to a halt in front of room two-hundred-one and pushed the door open. Inside, the classroom featured single-person chairs and tables grouped in sets of four or six. I made my way to the cluster in the right corner and promptly took my window seat. Alex followed and settled down across from me. Looking somewhat bored, he rested his head on his hand and remained silent. Meanwhile, I neatly arranged my books and stashed them in my bag.
The bell rang, and other students began to trickle in. They entered the room sluggishly, each bearing the unmistakable signs of Monday morning's brutal sleepiness. In total, there were eight boys and twenty-five girls in my class, which was, well, a fairly decent ratio, I think. Apart from Alex and me, there were only two others who were privy to the darker side of Pécs. One of them had just arrived. Ben, whom I affectionately called Alice, was a human—among the few who were aware of the secret world of monsters.
The day we first crossed paths was the start of my second school year, and, true to my tradition, I was running late. (Of course, I blamed it on public transport.) I was bounding up the stairs three steps at a time when this annoying human crashed into me. I regarded him with large, round eyes, contemplating which agonizing fate would be the most fitting – not everyone had the audacity to bump into me, not at all!
I was a tad irritable because it was a full moon, and the monster stirring within me seemed oblivious to the fact that it was őnly on the opposite side of the planet. As best as I could, I refrained from causing a scene on my first day and did not attack him. I merely glared at him with one of my expertly honed death stares.
What surprised me the most was that the kid didn't end up wetting his pants; instead, he smiled and extended his hand, calling me by my name. A seer – it didn't take me long to piece that together. He helped me to my feet, and I barely noticed that he was holding Lewis Carroll's book, "Alice in Wonderland," in his hand. Since I didn't know his name at the time, I started referring to him as Alice – and the name stuck to him like gum to a bootsole.
So, my dear friend Alice is a seer, and as such, quite a cunning fellow. It's not enough that he can foresee exam questions; he even has the audacity to sell them! It's not like I would ever need them, but it's still pretty despicable. To the point where, if he weren't human, I might be slightly proud of him. With a nod in my direction, he finally settled down at one of the tables.
He was followed by Coffee and Jo. Coffee is a vampire — yes, vampires don't disintegrate in the sunlight if they're shielded by some hocus-pocus spells. But Coffee isn't just any vampire; she's one of the noblest. Most of the guys in the class are nuts about her long, night-black hair, her sky-blue eyes, and her stunning face. Although their admiration would undoubtedly wane upon a glimpse of her pretty fangs.
But why did a noble vampire like herself degrade herself by attending school with her snacks in tow? Well, the answer walked alongside the vampire princess. Jo was human. Yes, only I referred to her as such; her real name was Johanna. Surprisingly, even though a vampire princess was her best friend, she had no knowledge of the existence of monsters.
I swear, I have no idea how the two of them crossed paths, but they became inseparable friends. Without our dear Jo, I'm convinced that Coffee, like her ancestors, would have indulged in practicing the execution of humans as a pastime. After all, Jo was charming, the other weakness of the male members of the class was her long, light brown curly hair, her ever-smiling countenance, and her green eyes. In any case, I wouldn't expect anything less from someone who managed to tame a monster – the allure of innocence is unquestionably treacherous!
I adhere to the principle that once you're at the top of the food chain, why bother being a vegetarian? Coffee still, true to her name, doesn't quench her thirst with human blood but with coffee.
I even got the blood replacement pills hidden deep in my bag from her when I was on the verge of biting off her pretty friend's hand. She senses the bloodlust of her kind to some extent, and since a minimal amount of vampire blood courses through me, she exposed me as well. Following that, she tossed a jar of brownish medicine at me with a disgruntled expression. When I inquired about what on earth she was doing, she grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the classroom. This was rather surprising because Coffee only talks when she has to. Especially with me.
Anyway, she explained that I would have regretted exposing her in front of the whole class, potentially leading to a bloodbath. I definitely didn't want to arouse her anger, and so, yes, that's how my not-so-smooth friendship with the vampire princess began.
We haven't talked much since then, but we always have lunch together. Initially, she explained this as "observation," and it somehow morphed into a habit. After all, it's not so bad to have a vampire ally, especially when you have some of their blood flowing in your veins.
Although she never took the initiative to talk to me since that day, she always answered my questions, and I could seek her advice as well. The first thing I was curious about was how vampires can create viable offspring in the 'traditional way.' After all, in principle, they are technically dead – or so I thought, which turned out to be a misconception.
Well, it was then that she shared a particular legend about their origins. According to it, they were once human. Only due to a curse did they transform into parasites that feed on human blood, an eternal damnation for them. She supported this by mentioning that a vampire is incapable of suicide.
Indeed, a stake through their heart can be an effective way to kill vampires, as they do have a heart that beats, albeit only a quarter of the human heart rate per minute. However, it's only effective if the stake has been previously dipped in vampire venom, which, when delivered directly to the heart, proves fatal to them.
When suicidal individuals attempt this method on their own, their hands freeze in mid-air before the tip of the weapon can even reach their chest. This relates to my earlier question about their transformation. Since they have transitioned from being living humans to... something 'less human,' they exhibit signs of life, which is why they can reproduce.
Coffee also shared with me that this is how noble vampires come into existence. The ignoble ones are individuals whom the noble vampires intended to consume but who managed to survive. Vampires possess venom that enters their victim's bloodstream as soon as they are bitten. If a person doesn't succumb to this poison, they become a second-generation vampire, namely an ignoble.
My second question was if Coffee is a vegetarian now, is she really able to put up with such tasteless pills? She didn't delve too deeply into the subject, but she said that since she is purebred, she needs other supplements, but the pills will do for me. Well, thanks... After that, I left her alone because she was making a face as if she had bitten into a lemon.
Of course, that didn't mean I didn't try to gather more information. During our next lunch, I asked why vampires still need blood and what shit I was taking that I no longer thirst for it at all, as well as how I could live beyond a dozen years without much. The truth is that this is part of the 'curse' that she and the other nobles fanatically believe in, but I completely disregard it.
Well, her case is complicated because, despite the pills and supplements, her bloodthirst does not go away; it just becomes barely tolerable. Well, she drinks blood, and she gets it from a hospital. On the other hand, my situation is easier since I'm only partially a vampire, so I can survive without drinking blood. In Coffee's opinion, I'm just vegetating this way, though. I wasn't in the mood to argue.
After that, we shifted to discussing what happens to a vampire if it doesn't drink blood. It's simple. It's like going out into the sun without magical hocus-pocus: its body dries out. Following this line of thought, I also inquired about the topic of the sun. Coffee explained that for the sake of variety, this is also part of the curse. The nobles have found a solution to it, and that's how she can attend my school. In any case, ignobles do not know this, so they mostly hunt at night.
In addition to these, I still had a million questions, but they weren't that interesting. For example, I once asked Coffee about her cup size, which she rewarded with a slap. Never give a reason for a vampire to hit you because their power is outstanding even among monsters!
Simi, our teacher of philosophy and ethics, also entered the room with a delay of about three minutes. He assigned some lame tasks as usual, but no one was actually paying attention. Impressive, in the most ironic form of the word to say the least. With noble simplicity, I just lay down on the table and tried to sleep.