Artificial Memory (DISCONT'D BUT WILL UPLOAD UNEDITED CHAPTERS)

Chapter 2: I Have Vampiric Tendencies and Lucid Dreams Are Hella Creepy

I stared at the eye for a moment. Jet-black with an emerald green ring around his red iris. His pupil was shaped like the number eight. I shrugged.

"I see. Well, you seem to be smarter than I thought. That's good."

I said with a smirk.

"You're quite a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"It's a gift."

I retorted, using his own retort from earlier today.

As he let out a small peal of laughter, the digital clock in the wall ticked to six o'clock. An 8-bit version of a tolling bell rang six times.

I glanced at it before meeting Memory's eyes and stretching my arms high above my head.

"Well, I've got some stupid math homework to do."

I yawned.

He smiled and asked,

"Can I help?"

I paused to stare at him for a second. I remembered that it wasn't actually homework that I needed to do.

You see, Memory is part Undead. That's pretty obvious, right? Well, I mentioned in the prologue that they like human flesh. Memory's only one-eighth Undead, so he doesn't need to eat people, thank God. However, he's more like a vampire. A very stupid vampire. As in, he kinda needs to drink blood every couple weeks to stay healthy...sort of like how vegans need protein pills to stay alive.

From the shadows I noticed under his eyes, it was about time for me to force him to drink blood. My own blood, actually. A good thing about this was that I knew I didn't have any serious blood disorders or anything either due to the fact that Memory wasn't dead after drinking my blood. Yay me, I guess.

The little shit seemed to notice that I was thinking about this and quickly said,

"Oh wow, look at the TIME! I think I've got a World of Warcraft tournament to get to-"

He was cut off as I grabbed his scarf and stopped him.

"You know, I might've believed that excuse...except for the fact that I'm not as stupid as you and you haven't played WOW in four months."

I muttered.

He stopped and let out an exasperated noise.

"Can you wait another hour or something?"

He asked me.

"Nah son."

He seemed to give in to my icy personality and followed me into the kitchen as I let go of his scarf.

I started by washing my hands, then pulled a small plastic cup out of the cupboard and reached into a drawer. Withdrawing a filleting knife, I held my hand over the cup. After a few moments, I ran the knife across the palm of my hand and bit down hard on the inside of my lip. I squeezed my hand to make the blood run faster.

What, did you think I'd let him bite me? Fuck no, I didn't want his spit in my blood. That shit's nasty, and this is NOT some stupid sparkly vampire movie. I mean, the vampire doesn't get sick, but a realistic portrayal of those movie would have the bite victim having a perpetually infected, gross wound. That's a huge nope for me.

ANYWAYS, a few moments passed and I shook off my hand over the sink. Memory watched me wash and bandage my hand from his place at the table, being a useless dink as expected. Why did I love him again? Oh yeah, his personality...BUT I DID NOT ASK FOR FEELINGS.