Vampiric Interdiction

[4] He Doesn't Know

Villahr was dreaming again. It was the same dream he had every day for years when he was younger. The same dream that tormented him for months before the last twister of fury ripped through him. 

Vicio were once a very dangerous species. Growing up at the estate there were many thickly bound books lining the shelves of his makeshift home. Each one playing out the tales of his ancestors upon the sturdy pages, in inky black scrawls. The stories clearly depicted his kin as murderous monsters. Apparently, long ago, Vicio and Vampiric people were not that dissimilar. However, it was obvious the one species chose to better themselves, and the other went in the complete opposite direction. 

It’s not well known how the breed evolved past the endless terror, but no one really felt the need to question it. They simply thanked the great Divine for the peace, and that was that. Vicio have progressed very far to be better than their Vampiric brothers, and pride themselves for it. Though just because they chose the high road, that doesn’t mean the rickety bridge of immorality down the way is now roped off to them. Should the furious desire be strong enough, a worn overpass would not be intimidating enough by a long shot to keep them from crossing.

Dion was watching Villahr with great heed. He donned a thick winter jacket and tuque, moving back and forth on the balls of his feet either from nerves or the weather’s chill. His shift had technically ended hours ago, but he said he needed the money and that usually meant working overtime. 

The window by the sofa was the only source of light in the room, and the sun was weakly pushing through the pane. It was almost like a closet in here, and Dion couldn’t help but to wonder why Villahr preferred it here. He didn’t bother asking though, because even behind the valourous facade, he knew something as simple as that question, on a bad day, could mean his life. He was scared of Villahr in all actuality, but he hid it well. Or so he thought he did. 

The sun would be going down soon, so it was a good thing Dion woke him. It’s not that the walk from his shop to home was a long one, but any amount of time in the moonlight was risking it; and he did not bring is cloak. 

A cool breeze came in and ghosted over the Vici’s flesh, but he hardly felt it as it attempted to permeate his body. The scalding temperature of his vitality licked at the inside of his body like a volcano erupted within him, spreading molten lava everywhere. Villahr could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck, and he lifted his hand to burst the beads. His employee stood shivering, still in the corner. It made the snow-white male feel the quick sting of jealousy, because Dion could feel the bitter cold and to him it was naught but a puff.

“I’m sorry,” said Villahr, grabbing his button-up from where it was slung over the back of the leather couch. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m still not quite used to having a human around here.” He offered Dion a partial smile. “I’m working on it though.” Villahr received a slight nod in return.

“Don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t be workin’ here if I couldn’t handle getting snapped at now and again. No pun intended.” Dion pulled on a pair of yellow gloves, which stood out boldly against his dark jacket. 

“What was it you needed, anyway? Furnace break down again? We run out of something? …Wait! What did you break?” Villahr bombarded the human with questions.

“No, no. Nothing like that, and everything’s in one piece, I swear. There’s just someone here asking for you.” Dion scratched his curly black head with his index finger, worming it through a hole in his cap.

Villahr’s cheeks immediately made way for a smirk, and he fastened his shirt with haste, as if late for an important date. He knew full well who this mysterious visitor was, but he opted for questioning the younger man anyway.