“Do! Do! Look at what I did! Look!” a two-year-old Villahr came racing inside from the yard, where he'd been playing. A fresh wound dripped blood all down his arm and there pride absolutely oozing from every pore. This was apparent by the great big smile on his face.
He clutched a long nail he'd dug out of the ground, tight in his grubby little hand, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Though his Doseono had always cautioned him that doing so with sharp objects could lead to a medical emergency he wasn't sure he could fix — like something accidentally lodged in an eye socket — he kept up his speedy pace. The house wasn't all that big, but it had many rooms, and to a toddler they were monstrous.
“Do! Do!” he kept calling, as he checked every room for sign of the man who'd been raising him. Where could he be? After searching every area —not thoroughly exactly but well enough to have noticed a a full grown man hiding in the shadows. Villahr found nothing. There was no reply. Not a sound.
Fear began to creep up and wrap around the little boy at the prospect of an empty house. That's impossible though, he only assumed, because his Doseono —or father as the humans like to put it — would never leave him. Not alone. He always took him everywhere. Even in the case of an emergency he would not leave without first informing the neighbours, in which case someone would always come right over.
Out of all his sitters, Villahr was particularly fond of Mrs. Jezamine Elly next door. They'd watch movies together, and she would secretly let him stay up much later than he was allowed to watch television. She knew nothing of the young boy’s heritage. As far as Mrs. Elly was concerned, Villahr was no different than any other child. A human child. The lad’s father thought it best that way, and saw to it that she was not informed any differently.
Villahr ran to the sitting room where Mrs. Elly and he would spend most of their time, hoping to find her there. The chair she had taken a liking too, and sat in every visit, with Villahr snuggled on her lap — was empty. There was no Mrs. Elly to be found, only silence. The walls seemed to be getting scarily closer by the second.
Villahr awoke with a start to one of his employees cautiously nudging at him. He shot upright on the sofa where he'd been resting and within no time flat his fangs were bared. His eyes viciously dark and looked as though the pupils dotting each centre had swallowed the iris. The young man who'd been prodding at him jumped a good couple feet back against the door in a panic.
“Christ Dino! I told you never to wake me!” he shouted. He didn’t sound groggy in the slightest. Vicio were like cats in that way. When they slept they were never truly under, a part of them was always attentive and ready to respond to even the slightest of movements. The trick was learning whether or not an approaching figure was friend or foe. Dion had only been employed a little over a month. so it was still impossible to determine under what category he fell.
Villahr closed his eyes a moment in an attempt to better retain his composure. It was not his wish to frighten the human further. He thought back to when Dion first approached him for the job. Villahr had outright told him that he had to be crazy, and he never expected a human would apply for such a dangerous position. But Dino was insistent, he wanted to be there.
“I'm up for the thrill,” he said. Villahr had laughed at this, and bringing it back to mind now brought out a similar chuckle.
His fangs soon retracted back into his gums with the same fluidity as when they had come out. When his lids slid open, his eyes had reverted back to their natural blue hue.
Glancing at the clock on a small, glass coffee table in front of him, Villahr noticed it had only been twenty minutes. After cutting several times since Karolinna’s crisis, he was able to revert his blood back to a healthy silver colour. Losing so much fluid in such a short amount of time made him rather weak, and so he left Dion in charge, and took a moment to rest in his gloomy back office.
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.
“Let me guess. Female?”
“Oh, uh..Yeah,” answered Dion, lost in his thoughts, watching his boss tidy the mess of papers on his desk into somewhat of a more orderly pile.
“Long hair, bitchy attitude, body that could bring down a 767?”
“Definitely!”
Villahr raised an eyebrow at Dion’s answer, and the poor guy looked immediately petrified, as if he’d said the one thing that might set the Vici off.
“That’s my girl,” said Villahr. He could almost hear her heels clicking about in the front room as she was no doubtably pacing in wait.
Looking quickly out the window to check the sun’s placement in the sky, Villahr grabbed his jacket and hurried towards the door. It would be dark soon, there was to be a full moon tonight. Nudging Dion out of the door, he exited close behind. He slid the keys in the knob and waited for the sound of it locking before slinging an arm over the still trembling brunette as they began to walk.
“Don’t worry about it, man. We’re not together.”
Dion relaxed a little under the tall one’s arm. Villahr could hear his heart beat begin to slow back to normal, and he smiled, amused by how easy the simple organ was to manipulate.
“But if you try anything with her, I will tear your balls off.”
Alarm came back to Dion’s face and he sprinted ahead a couple steps. As long as he stayed on Villahr’s good side he would be fine, so he figured.
Working here so far hadn’t been too hazardous to his health, except for an incident a couple weeks in which he hardly remembered. Villahr was in quite a mood and Dion just happened to ask the wrong question at the worst possible time. The unsettled elna was filled with remorse straight away as he broke into the skin of his worker’s bulging shoulder, falling just short of tearing through a ligament as well. With a bit of sorcery, and a hot cup of coffee packed Enihprol with Dion was right as rain and none the wiser, apart from the slight pain in his shoulder.
“Ready to go, stud?” Karolinna stood by the door, wearing the same barely there outfit from earlier, but beneath a heavy, dark garment. It was open wide enough that Villahr could see her light-skinned stems poking out from the slit in the centre, but not so much as to fully put her curves out on display for Dion to see.
She wasn’t really as whorish as she dressed, contrary to popular belief, but for some reason Villahr had a hard time convincing others of that. Hah! Who was he kidding, he knew exactly why no one was convinced. Her visits to the local bars and clubs were constant and not exactly on the down low.
Almost every night, Karolinna could be seen leaving a building thudding loudly from the rooftops down to it’s foundation with the latest remixed tunes. Holding firm to a handsome young human of either male or female persuasion, she’d pull them from the throng of passionate rebellers, neither one looking to be opposed to the idea of an even wilder after-party that Karolinna would be hosting.
Now, draped in thick black fabric, the stunning faelna looked almost innocent. However, Villahr knew better than to believe there was any truth to this mock-up. Pulled over top of her pale tawny hair was a hood that concealed most of her face, shadowing her forehead and eyes and the great lengthy sleeves hung just past her extended finger tips. She had another cloak of a similar shade slung over one arm.
“And you say I’m the disgrace to our species?” she said, holding out the bulky cloth for Villahr to take as he walked towards her. “Who was the idiot who left this at home?”
Leaning in he pecked her lightly on the cheek, and grabbed the garment from his friend. He had told her he would lock up early, but time had most definitely gotten away from him. He did not anticipate having to beat out the moon on his walk back to the estate, therefore he did not bother to take anything with him that morning but his leather jacket.
“Sisienta,” he said, his breath hot in her ear. She shivered as Villahr pulled the cloak on, making sure every morsel of flesh was entirely concealed in fabric. Karolinna’s skin burned hotter at that moment, and she prayed to the Divine that the angelic male before her could not feel the heat exuding from her flesh, bleeding into the cool air around her.
Once he’d wrapped himself completely, he lifted his head somewhat into the light and smiled before reaching around the door frame and extinguishing the glow.
“Shall we?”
It was not the chilly night that made Karolinna’s body shake and quiver as she walked arm in arm with Villahr down the emptied streets, whilst the sun quickly faded. She kept her head bowed and let him guide her along, and used every ounce of power within her to control her trembling. Karolinna would never live it down if Villahr ever learned that the cause for the uncontrollable tremors was his very presence, and so she was determined to keep her secret.
But could it be that he already knew?