Slap!
The sharp sound cut through the room, drawing startled gasps. His sister's eyes went wide, frozen in shock as their father's hand left a red mark on Sebastian's cheek.
Sebastian felt no remorse, though he knew he was in the wrong. How much longer would he have to stand here, letting his father pour out his rage?
Looking into his father's eyes, Sebastian could see the barely contained fury simmering beneath. His father's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the glass table.
"Leave now—" His father's voice was low, cold, even as it quivered with the strain of his restraint. "Before I lose my patience with you. And while you're out, remember, I'll be here... cleaning up your mess. Again."
Sebastian held his gaze for a moment, then gave a single nod, forcing himself to stay calm. Without a word, he turned and left, feeling his father's eyes burning into his back. The weight of the door clicking shut behind him did little to lift the tension. Sebastian let out a long, theatrical sigh, pondering his next move. He'd messed up—again.
As he stepped into the hallway, a surge of anger bubbled beneath his own calm exterior. Part of him wanted to break something, to smash his fist into the wall just to feel something other than his father's contempt.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the urge, then straightened his shoulders. If his father wanted a mess, Sebastian thought, fighting a smirk, he'd make damn sure it was one worth cleaning up.
He hadn't meant to get caught. Usually, he was more careful, but this time he'd left fingerprints and DNA all over the dead body. Another mess for his father to clean up, and judging by his reaction, his patience was running thin.
He barely remembered the girl's name—if he'd even bothered to ask. She was just someone he'd picked up after an underground fight, the kind of place vampires frequented to unleash their energy without restraint.
Tonight, the fight hadn't given him the thrill he needed. He'd been in a foul mood, and when the girl practically threw herself at him, desperate for his attention, she had no idea how close she was to danger. She didn't take "no" for an answer basically throwing herself at him, oblivious to his growing irritation.
A smirk crept onto his face. She had practically served herself up on a silver platter—how could he resist?
______
Back in his room, Sebastian let the hot water pour over him, soothing his nerves and quieting the adrenaline still buzzing through his veins. He needed a plan, and he needed it now.
If he was going to clean up his own mess, the morgue was his first stop. The body had to disappear—no trace left behind. He knew the hospital well, thanks to his father's position as a reputable doctor. No one would question him if he slipped in quietly, dressed all in black, blending into the shadows.
Drying off and dressing, he pulled on a dark hoodie and gloves. Tonight would be long, but he didn't mind. The fewer people around, the better.
Stepping outside, he was met by a cold, biting wind, the ground layered with fresh snow. Yet he barely felt it; the chill was meaningless to him. His body didn't register the cold, and tonight, it felt like an advantage—a reminder of what he was capable of.
This time, he'd do it right. And maybe, just maybe, he'd prove he wasn't as worthless as his father seemed to think.
He headed to the garage, grabbing a shovel with a grim sense of purpose. The woods were distant, secluded, perfect for what he needed. He'd burn the body there, and after tonight, his family wouldn't have to nag him about being so careless.
Not this time.
With one last glance around to ensure no one was nearby, he launched into the night with supernatural speed. The road, trees, and snow blurred together, the eerie cries of night creatures fading into the background as he focused on his destination. His hair whipped against his face as he stopped, breathless but calm, at a quiet clearing deep in the woods.
It was perfect. Isolated. No one would ever think to look here.
He drove the shovel into the frozen ground, digging relentlessly. The cold air did nothing to cool his skin as he worked, and when he finally paused, wiping grime and sweat from his brow, he took a step back to admire the deep, dark hole beneath him. A smirk tugged at his lips.
He looked up, catching sight of the moon's pale, solitary glow against the starless sky. The reminder felt unsettling—yet oddly familiar. Like him, the moon stood alone, even surrounded by stars. No matter how bright they shined, they'd never truly understand its cold, quiet strength.
In the silence, he allowed himself a rare moment of clarity. He was as alone in this world as the moon in the night sky—and maybe, he thought, that was exactly as it should be.
Setting the shovel down beside the gaping hole that would easily accommodate a large body, Sebastian paused. A sudden sound pierced the stillness of the night.
A cry! Someone was out there, and it sounded desperate—someone in trouble.
Curiosity flickered within him, scratching at his conscience like an itch he couldn't ignore. If he brushed it aside now, he knew he'd be haunted by it for days. Closing his eyes, he strained to listen, focusing on the faint echoes in the distance.
Pump! — pump! — pump!
The rhythmic sound pulsed in his ears, quickening his heart. Was it fear? Excitement? He couldn't tell. The night seemed to thicken around him, the trees closing in as he shifted, instinctively drawn toward the source of the commotion. He was torn between the urgency of his task and the nagging pull of the unknown, the shadows of the woods whispering secrets he was desperate to uncover.
Each beat of the unseen heart echoed in the stillness, urging him forward, igniting a sense of anticipation he couldn't shake. What lay ahead? He had to find out.
Turning on his heel, Sebastian summoned his supernatural speed again, the scent of fresh blood wafting through the cold air—delicious, divine, and tantalizingly sweet. He slowed to a stop, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of a small figure in the distance, half-buried in snow and blood.
The figure was shivering, trembling violently against the biting cold. But it wasn't the chill of the night that sent a shiver down Sebastian's spine; it was the scene unfolding around him. He squinted, taking in the gruesome site—dead wolves scattered like discarded toys, their lifeless bodies strewn across the ground.
Arching an eyebrow, he focused on the boy at the center of it all. Blood-soaked and clad in a torn shirt, he clutched a silver knife glistening with crimson.
Impossible! A human couldn't kill that many wolves unless they were extraordinarily skilled.
As Sebastian crept closer to the unfolding scene, a tense energy crackled in the air. The figure, a weary youth, whipped around with a flinch, eyes wide with fear. He raised his knife, a desperate glint in his gaze, stepping back as if to ward off an unseen horror. Sebastian studied the boy, recognizing the exhaustion etched into his features, the determined resolve that held him upright. It fascinated him—the fragility of human determination, and he couldn't help but smile, a cold, careless grin.
"Look out behind you," he called, his voice dripping with mock concern.
In an instant, a gray wolf sprang from the shadows of a nearby tree, honed for the hunt. But before the boy could react, Sebastian lunged forward, a blur of motion that betrayed no thought—only instinct. As the wolf soared through the air, teeth bared and muscles coiling, Sebastian met it head-on, his hands moving with lethal grace. A sharp crack echoed through the woods as he snapped the creature's neck, the sound mingling with the boy's strangled gasp. The wolf collapsed at their feet, lifeless.
Sebastian turned slowly, savoring the moment, only to find the boy rooted in place, horror painting his features. Sebastian's heart raced, but not with fear; it was a thrill, a rush of power that coursed through him as he savored the effect he had on the fragile human.
He clicked his tongue, a sound of irritation as the reality of his actions settled in. He had just unveiled the monster lurking beneath his skin, exposing himself to a creature that thrived on fear. Humans, so easily terrified by what they could not comprehend, were drawn to darkness like moths to a flame.
What should I do now? The thought danced in his mind. Should I kill him?