The Vampire's Claim (boyxboy)

Chapter 1: Warning! Curiosity Can Actually Kill the Cat.

Everyone has a weakness, something no matter what they just can't seem to leave well enough alone. For my mom, it's pie, which is why when the holiday season rolls around she gains fifty pounds. Never mention that to her though. I made that mistake once and she about castrated me, her only son, for it. Now every time she eats pie at Thanksgiving or Christmas, she stares at me as she shoves forkfuls into her mouth just daring me to say something. 

For my dad, it's the drink. Actually, his vice isn't half bad because if Mom's out and he's drunk enough to forget my age he lets me pop a can open with him. But he tends to reach for 'one more' one too often, hence the missing garage door and the reason here I was, eleven o'clock at night, walking back from the store because our car was still in the shop.

Great going dad. Way to be an awesome example to your children. I only hope that when I grow up I can be as great as you, crashing into a closed garage door at thirty miles an hour, fat-ass drunk, then puking and stumbling out of the car and having to be carried to bed by your kids. You sure set the standards high.

I caught the commotion out of the corner of my eye. Normally, I'd have easily ignored it, but the emptiness of the street immediately set me on hyper-alert. At practically midnight, any sign of human life couldn't be good. Especially three hooded figures surrounding another in a children's playground. Yeah, that screamed drug deal or murder victim.

I should've ignored it. If I was smart, I'd have kept going, whistled a tune or two, and gone home to watch the rerun of Saturday Night Life I recorded. But I've never been smart in my life and apparently I wasn't gonna start now. See, my weakness? I can't leave well enough alone. Mom calls it curiosity and Dad says I'm just too damn nosey and that it was going to get me in serious trouble one day. Like today.

My feet were already moving toward the playground before I could register what I was doing.

"What's going on over here?" The three figures jumped and turned towards me. Even in the darkness, I could read the outline of scowls and disdain on their faces. They were not pleased to be interrupted. Well shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

"None of your damn business that's what," one of them spat when I got closer to them.

"You okay man?" I ignored them and focused on the guy behind them. I barely got the words out before I froze and I'm pretty sure my mouth visibly dropped. I wasn't gay or anything, but this guy had to be the most stunning guy, hell person, I had ever seen. He could have been carved from stone. He was tall and lean and his pale skin glowed in the moonlight. He had long golden hair that hung long and loose. But what stunned me most was his eyes. They were pure red, which was ridiculous. No one had red eyes unless they were an albino, but he didn't look like an albino. He didn't even look human with that perfection. 

He didn't say anything and instead stared at me with the most impassive, most disinterested face I'd ever seen. And he was the guy I'd risked getting beaten up for? Great.

"It's best if you go, don't you think?" One of the guys sneered as he drew something from his sleeve. It flashed in the moonlight. A knife. He had a freakin knife up his sleeve. I gulped and took a step back.

"Look, man, I really don't want any trouble. Really. So, why don't we just all walk away from here now and pretend none of this ever happened. Okay?"

He sneered. "Why don't you just walk away and pretend you never saw anything. Okay?"

I really wanted. I really, really, really wanted to. But that god-damn moral side of me would not let me. "I don't think I can do that."

"Then I'm sorry for what I'm about to do."

I saw the knife gleam and I jumped back falling onto the ground. I gave myself a quick once-over looking for a wound only to find none. I looked back up. One of the knife guy's friends had grabbed his knife-wielding wrist and holding him back. Knife guy looked pissed.