Shadow Love (World Collisions) [#1]

Friends in No One, The Love Conqueror

A child is born of love, not hatred. A child is loved by his parents and siblings, not people he does not know of. A child must be the attention of their family, not the outcast of it. A child must be cared for, not abandoned. A child must know he is loved by all around, not with hate.

I am not that child.

I am anything but that child. I am the epitome of a child being raised by hate and malice. I know not of anything else besides that life. So, I was not surprised when I had my first bully in first grade, I was not surprised when my foster parents gave me away to the system, I was not surprised when everyone looked at me as though I was a mere bug in their 'greater' existence. I was used to it all, I had accepted it all and I had no reason to not expect hatred for hatred followed me like a tiger looking for vengeance.

Everyone needs a break though.

So, imagine my luck when I had found a journal in the ceiling of the locker room to the gym. Imagine my luck when I found their tale to be as tragic as mine.

I let my fingers brush over the letters and I looked down at them as I was once again at the first page of the journal. The letters were smudged and worn, but all was fine otherwise and quite readable. I examined the words once more and read the line that started it all.

"I could not handle life anymore, it was beyond me how anyone expected me to live such a cruel life. In fact, I would spend most of my nights staring at the sky and watching til' the sun broke over the horizon and the new day began. My nights used to be filled with misery and I would fall asleep to me crying all night long, but now I found a place. My safe haven."

The safe haven this writer had written was a place of a meadow in the middle of the woods and I wondered what it would be like to just visit it and just relish in the feeling of being safe. But, the safe haven was no longer a safe haven for later in the journal he states:

"They wrecked it. They ruined my safe haven and now I have nowhere else to go. Where the grass used to be green and luscious are now burnt to ash. I wish I could feel rage, but I felt a strong numbness instead."

I had pondered if he had ever found another safe haven, or if he had lived to a good old ripe age. The reason for my thinking was that he had never finished the journal, no instead it was left at half a sentence. It was like all of a sudden he had stopped writing and possibly that could be the case, but then there was the fact that this journal was found in the ceiling of the locker room. So, perhaps someone had taken him from his journal and thrown it up the ceiling so he could not reach it. Maybe he had committed suicde and that was the end of his tale.

I didn't want to think those thoughts though. They were toxic and unneeded. They felt like a burden on my shoulders and it felt as though I had lied.

So, with little help and knowledge I found an address that the boy in the journal had often used. But, to this day the building is to remain vacant. With some kind of luck I hope to find him there, I hope to find him and ask him what has come of his life.

My plan to find him had begun at night and even though there had been a murderer on the loose, I did not care. I sought his wisdom and advice. I sought for someone who could understand me, who could give me some passion in my life.

I looked down at the crumpled paper in my hand and with one breath of determination I snuck down the stairs and out of the front door of the orphanage I was staying at and I walked down the barren streets. There was nothing in the air, but the slight swishing of trees made by the wind and the leaves crackling along as they stumbled along the pavement. The night was as peaceful as it could get.

As I continued to make my walk to the boy's house I wondered how old he was. The journal had looked pretty old and seemed to be on its last threads, but there was some hope in me that he would still be alive to tell me his tale, to tell his words of wisdom. There was hope for me and with that hope I found myself not caring if he was alive or not because maybe his house could give me answers that I seek after.

That perhaps he had kept another journal that could tell a better tale of his life than the one I had kept.

So, with hope following me like a cunning fox I approached the house and grabbed the door knocker and with three loud, obnoxious, knocks the door slowly creaked open. The hinges whined and a gust of wind left the house and suddenly I was on edge. It felt as though I was entering my death bed.

I looked once behind me before entering the house and the door slammed behind me before a looming figure appeared before me. The figure stood tall and it wore a fancy robe of those of ancient times. It was black with a silver design and the figure himself was pale as paper as his hair was black as night. His hair reached to the bottom of his back and his eyes were a piercing light blue as his face was sculpted like a God's. I stood impressed by the figure before me and couldn't help but let my eyes wander. Then, slowly as possible, I let my eyes wander to his face and found the person staring at me with boredom, but under that boredom hid a sense of fascination. I took that as my queue and held out the journal.

"Are you not the boy who wrote this journal here?" As I ask this I hold no emotion to my voice and this too seems to further fascinate the person before me.

"..." The man before me does not speak of a response and insteads takes the journal from my hand and looks at it and it's contents before the man nods his head and leads a way to his living room. I follow him nonchalantly and I watch him as he sits on the couch and I take a seat in the recliner, across from him. "Yes, this was once mine. How have you come in possession of it?" His question held no malice and that in itself held my interest.

"I found it in the boys locker room of my gym. It was up in the ceiling. How it got up there, I do not know." I swipe my psalm on my jeans and I look back up to the man. "What is your name? I must know the name of the person who has inspired me to live further than I once had seeked." I leaned forward on my elbows and awaited for his answer because it was the thing I had awaited most when meeting the author of the journal.

"You needn't know my name, youngling. For I am no one important and I shall not stay at this small town more than a fortnight." I downcasted my gaze to the floor and I sighed deeply as I clasped my hands together. I knew it was too good to be true. "But, if you must know of it...then I shall tell you." I looked up at him with some kind of hope in my eyes and he cracked a smile my way. "Athan Vex. That is my name and perhaps when you are older and you still look for me, then call upon my name and I shall be there for you, human." Before I could ask him what he meant I watched as he had basically disappeared before my very eyes. The only thing that I had known he was here was the gust of wind that had followed him.

I wonder what this relationship could bring.

Third P.O.V: Time slowly passes on Earth as the young human boy known as Evan Pilt grew to become a young admirable man in his 20s. He still had searched for his mysterious vampire as he had learned what he was when he was in university. Every year he grew fascinated with the young vamp and on occasions he had thought of summoning him. But, he held back and was determined to find him on his own.

But, the seasons were passing and days were turning night as fast as they could. Evan was growing wary and frightened as he got older and he feared that he would never see the vamp ever again. But, what gave him hope was the then and now of a case of a murderer sucking all the blood from their victims. It gave him hope and it gave him an idea of what to call his friend, The Love Conqueror for Athan was known for seducing his prey before his kill on them.

Only now has Evan truly understood that he was lucky that night when he looked for the boy who had written the journal.

Two lone figures stand in the distance of Evan's life as they watch him with fascination and one was familiar with human life as the other was just a mere shadow figure observing the life of this here human and teaching the new soul how to do their job.