"I promise to you; I will protect you," his voice still rings in my head. Every time I hear his soothing and gentle voice, the image of his corpse lays before me. His eyes are wide open, completely devoid of the glimmer I was hoping for. "Wait for me, alright?"
Gasping, I sit up in my bed. I pant quickly, recalling the memory that had haunted me ever since my brother's death. He had promised to protect me when I was younger, but it soon became clear that this would only happen in my dreams. He was diagnosed with cancer a few months after our promise, and the doctors had all said the same thing: he was going to die soon. Even though he was able to accept his inevitable fate, I couldn't. I was stubborn back then, and my brother seemed to like that.
Right now, I am living alone. Although I appreciate the serenity of the atmosphere, it also exudes loneliness that is hard to ignore. My heart swells and flutters like butterflies, but I do my best to ignore this sensation. After shunning the feeling, I think about what I'm going to do. It's the weekend, so I might as well make good use of my time... doing what, exactly?
"Hmm... I'll decide after I have breakfast." I can't seem to think, and so I change into some simple clothes: a (f/c) shirt and jean-shorts. I slowly walk downstairs and amble to my kitchen. When I open the refrigerator, I see that I am nearly out of eggs and vegetables. I frown a little; it looks like I know what I'm going to do today. I close the refrigerator and quickly jog to my closet, where all my sweaters hang neatly in a line.
Putting one on, I go out through the front door, making sure to lock the door in the process. I tap my shoes into a more comfortable position, and then start walking down the sidewalk to the nearest convenience grocery store. The sidewalk is nearly silent with the exception of the breeze rustling the leaves and bushes around me. The sound lulls my ears, and I feel more relaxed.
When I reach the store, I pause at the entrance. Just as I am about to push the door open, I feel as though somebody has their eyes on me. When I turn around, though, nobody is seen. I tilt my head curiously to the side. "It must be my imagination..."
Dismissing the strange feeling on my back, I go into the convenience store and browse the different types of eggs. I grab the Grade A eggs, and then go to the section of the store where they hold vegetables. I pick up a few broccoli and cauliflower, and then walk to the cashier.
"Good morning," the cashier nods in greeting, and I nod back whilst murmuring a quick greeting back to her. The lady scans the products and hands the bag to me as I hand her cash.
"Thank you." I wave the cashier goodbye, and then walk out. The whole entire walk back home is quiet, but it's not necessarily uncomfortable. In fact, I do enjoy this kind of silence. Along the way, I hum a familiar tune to myself: This Land is Your Land. The last time I have sang this must have been sometime in my elementary-school years. Humming it brings many memories into my mind. The memories of when I had fun with my classmates, and when my parents and brother would come to my singing concerts.
Unfortunately, all of that is only a fleeting memory now. I sigh to myself, and shake my head to release the images from my mind. When I do, I find myself standing in the doorway of my house. I scramble around for my key, and then unlock and open the door. I quickly go in and place the bags on the kitchen island. I then pause to mull over the different possibilities of food I can make.
Maybe I should just stick to fried rice? Fried rice is normally a very basic recipe; even I can make it like a better amateur; I wouldn't necessarily consider myself professional though. Shrugging, I grab the newly-bought ingredients and start making some use out of them. I cut the vegetables... a little bit too fast. The knife accidentally slips off my finger and cuts the tip of my finger. Blood seeps out of the minor wound, but I still panic, quickly putting down the knife and running to the sink to wash the wound off.
Once I bandage the wound, I go back to cutting the rest of the vegetables. This time, I am extra careful as to not cut myself again. When I finish cooking, I set down the bowl before me and start eating alone. Even though I have thought that I have gotten used to the loneliness, I can't ignore the pang that wells up inside my chest.
Suddenly, I find myself thinking about the feeling that I had initially dismissed as my imagination. Right now, I can't dismiss it; the feeling haunts me, and I start to feel a sense of paranoia wash over me. Every so now and then, I have to look back to make sure nobody is watching me.
In the end, the flavor never seems to reach me. I sigh as I wait for night to come; I try to forget about the feeling. "Why is it so hard to forget...?" I bite the bottom of my lip gently. I turn on the television, and watch the news. The newscaster has a serious expression plastered on her face, and she speaks in a somewhat low voice.
"We are here reporting another murder that has happened in (h/t)," she says, "and- like many other recent murders- the victim was seen with bite marks on his throat. Blood loss was his cause of death. We advise any people living in (h/t) to not go out during the night until further information is unearthed by investigators and police."
Isn't that my hometown? Who is responsible for this, anyways? There's no such thing as vampires, are there? The thought of the existence of vampires intrigues me, but there can't be any vampires; they're not even real...
I think back to my brother's death. He had died the same way: bite marks on his throat. Despite my thoughts, they do nothing to optimize my view on these murders. When I look outside, it seems as though time has flew by: it was already evening.
Was the feeling back then really not my imagination? Was someone actually watching- or worse, stalking- me, but then I never realized it? What if that someone was just outside my house, waiting to make a move on me...? A shiver makes its way down my spine, and I perk up at the feeling. Somewhere deep inside me says that this isn't a hunch.
Sorry, Mrs. Newscaster. I've got something to clarify tonight. I put on my jacket and set out towards the door. Just as I am about to go out, all my resolve from earlier has ebbed away, and I suddenly feel uncertain. After all, what if I'm his or her next victim? The last way I am going to die is being bitten by a creature that I have always thought didn't exist.
"... Alright, (y/n). You've got this; it's all or never," I give myself a little pep talk, and then open the door. I am met by the night breeze, but something seems a little bit off. I narrow my eyes as I step out, and I walk down the sidewalk; the only thing that guides me is the dimly-lit lampposts that line the sidewalk.
Before I know it, I reach the heart of the city, and I look around, not knowing where else to go. Am I going to get that feeling again? ... Maybe. Maybe not. As I am about to start walking again, I hear a loud voice pierce through the seemingly peaceful night, "It's show time!!"
"Wh-" I am flabbergasted when spotlights suddenly shine on a figure. What the hell is going on here!? I finish the sentence in my mind, because the words strangle my throat, and never freed itself. When my eyes adjust to the light, I look at the figure. I can tell that he's a male; he has long pink hair pulled into a ponytail, a simple pink shirt underneath a flashy white outfit. He has a white top hat, and his glasses are also striped. However, the one feature that stood out to me was his bloody red eyes, and... fangs?
"... Who are you?" I find myself asking the question that has been on my mind ever since the 'show' has started. However, seeing his strange eye color and his fangs is enough to put me on edge, and I slowly back away. The pink-haired man is about to answer, but then someone interrupts him. A different, more refined, voice comes in.
"Belukia."
"Huh?" I tilt my head. Everything is happening so quickly; it's hard to keep up about what's going on right now.
'Belukia' seems just as surprised to see his addresser, "Tsu-Tsubakyun?" I turn around to see whoever called 'Belukia', and I see another man- maybe about in his twenties or so. He has black hair, red eyes beneath small black sunglasses, and he has a yukata. H-His name isn't 'Tsubakyun', is it? I sure hope not...
"Let's... talk, shall we?" He grins, and his eyes seem to glimmer almost maliciously, but it isn't enough to scare me away. Something about him seems to fascinate me in more ways than one. He emits a mysterious aura.
"Umm, your name isn't 'Tsubakyun', is it?"
He looks at me, dumbfounded. After that, he immediately starts laughing as if everything I had said was a joke to him. However, he abruptly stops and says, "Boring."
This is one eccentric man... As if reading my mind, he grins and then introduces himself. "Tsubaki. Remember it, (y/n)."
"H-How do you know my name?" I back away slightly, but Belukia comes in from behind and pushes me towards Tsubaki. I gasp and lose my grip, but Tsubaki steadies me and leans in my ear.
His next words terrify me, "You remember your dear brother, don't you?"
"Are you the one-" I choke on my own words, and I try to hold back the tears that are forming on my cheeks right now. The waterworks are working well.
Tsubaki laughs, "So what if I am? Do you want to become my 'Sensei'? Let's see how long it takes you... to avenge your dear brother."
I look into his eyes, and I see something else. Yes, he's crazy and insane... even cynical, but there is something else deep in his eyes. Is that... loneliness? Is he lonely? As much as I am curious, I find myself shaking my head in response to Tsubaki's offer. His views are too twisted.
I would think Tsubaki would end up killing me because I rejected his offer, but to my utter surprise, he smirks. "... Fine." He almost nonchalantly walks to me and whispers in my ear, "I'll come back later."
And then, both Belukia and Tsubaki vanish into thin air. Tsubaki's voice in my ear startled me, and I stand frozen in place, flabbergasted. He'll... come back later...? The truth gradually sinks on me.
Tsubaki, huh. I would have accepted his offer if it wasn't for his motives... If he will come back to me, I will definitely prove him wrong the next time we meet. I steel my resolve in my mind.
However, I can't help but notice that my heart is beating ever-so-slightly quicker than usual...