Two guards had entered through the doors behind me and taken a forceful grasp of a shoulder each, pulling me back with no dithering. When I'd reached the threshold of the doorway, they'd removed their hands quickly, took a step forward and pushed me from the room and into the wall opposite the door in quick succession.
The guards had exited the room two steps behind me and slammed that giant brown door shut behind them before they'd disappeared down the hallway without a second glance towards me.
The dust from the concrete wall floated down to my shoulders; pieces of paint and plaster flaking away from the imprint I'd made. I picked myself up off the floor and dusted myself off. I had little intention of going back in, but the exit was a bit much. Even for me. Surely the guards had enough to throw around with all the punishments they liked to give out here.
I stumbled down the hallway and back along to the lobby of the building. As early as it was, the building was already filling up with human workers and werewolves; the early risers who wanted away as timely as possible. The rows of orange and blue chairs that stood within the lobby of the building were nearly full; each chair was filled by a person clutching a piece of paper, and waiting to be called. Kara used to call this lobby the 'hospital wing' and given how pale and anxious the inhabitants looked, I could see why.
I was about to take a seat amongst the others and wait for Adrienne to burst out of the room shortly after me, but someone had caught my eye.
A young boy with a pale complexion who was rocking back and forth on a chair at the front, his eyes bright but blank as he stared straight ahead. His hands gripped the edge of the seat impatiently. As I got closer I noticed his eyes were a dusty orange that I was too familiar with. I debated my next move carefully, before approaching the boy cautiously.
"Hey there little man, it's a little early for you to be here, isn't it?" I say as I knelt in front of him. He had met my question with a beaming smile that had shown off the fangs hidden in his set of babies. I found myself gritting my teeth as I asked, "What's your name?"
Central had realised early on that half of their staff would need to orient around vampire hours if their work was to be completed. Instead, the leaders had adapted the sewer that ran underneath the building and towards Eastern. It became a tunnel that the vampires could use to gain access to the main building, without being affected by the sun. However, the only operational hours ran between eleven to five, the "work hours" of human life. This meant the boy had been here for hours.
"Henry. My name is Henry," The boy had replied, beginning to sway from side to side slowly with his hands clasped firmly together. He was eyeing me up eagerly with a smile that had been painted onto his face with little thought to removal. His presence in the room was already lighting it up with sparks of hope and purity, but that smile... that smile could bring light to anyone's day.
As I looked down at him there was something that rang a little too familiar about him that went beyond his eyes; every little feature seemed to harken back to something in my past that I spent years trying to forget; spell upon spell to undo as best as I could. Each passing second I looked at this boy seemed to be causing pain at the forefront of my brain, to the point I had to avoid his gaze as best as I could manage.
I had cleared my throat slightly, taking a glance at the lobby around me and failing to see anyone that I could pass the boy onto; even the clerical worker behind the administration desk had seemed to vanish.
"You look a little young, Henry. How old are you?" I smile, ruffling his hair and holding his hands in mine for a moment, in complete speculation of whether or not this boy could deal with living in a world like this.
"Uh..." The boy had stood still with his tongue poking out of his mouth, his eyes glazed over in thought. After a moment he extends his hands out in front of him and clenches his hand into a fist. One by one he brings his fingers out and mouths the numbers as he counts. After a minute of doing this action three times, he eventually manages to exclaim with a voice filled with cheerful glee and eyes alight with joy, "Five!"
"Five? That's a great age, Henry." I replied as gleefully as I could manage, my true thoughts trying to ravish and replace that feeling. A five-year-old boy with a mind full of curiosity, and a craving for knowledge. That would surely keep him busy and adventurous.
A mind...
That is why there aren't many children that have been turned.
Their minds.
The young children were always in a constant state of regress; unable to grow further than their human age regardless of the time they walked the earth. We'd realised this early on in our creation; the hungry would feast on and turn the young, only to realise its perils. Their minds would become fragmented as the brain puts itself on standby in development terms. It lingers on the memories of the past while being unable to grasp the present.
We refused, as a species, to turn the children. Their inability to progress left them shells of childhood belief and vulnerability. The horrors of the species; the blood, the destruction and the death, would often turn them mad. The viciousness of our souls is too much to bear on the heart of a child.
Yet here this child was. Staring at me with such delight and wonder; seemingly uncorrupted by the horrors of vampirism for the most part - stuck in a childish innocence but without the ability to grasp any further ideas about the world around him; he was hollow, by all accounts.
Who on earth would do this to a child?
"What are you doing here right now?" I question, looking around the room for any other vampire; someone who would've brought this child with them, but more than that someone that would look after him. This was not the place to be for a vampire so young. The boy had looked around the room like I had, confusion clouding over his eyes like a mist. The confusion was dropped after a few moments as he came to his feet excitedly and pointed to the ceiling.
"My brother! He is here! I want him." He squealed while clapping his hands. His face had moved from me to the woman behind the desk that had tried with all of her might to do what Adrienne had asked. When she'd seen me looking she'd averted her eyes from me quickly. I tried to remind myself of the vampires that worked in this building, but there weren't many in my own circles; none that had younger brothers.
"What's your brother's name, Henry?" I asked hopefully. The boy had paused, easing himself back onto his chair calmly, the burst of energy dying down. Henry's mouth had begun to open and close and he worked the sounds out in his mind.
"I- I don't remember." He had whispered silently, his bottom lip had poked out from underneath his top one. I could see his eyes brewing with tears, but with a squeeze of the knee he'd shaken them away, changing the subject with a question I couldn't answer, "Do you know him?"
There was silence as I tried to find an answer to his question. It was unlikely I knew his brother, but there was something inside me that told me I shouldn't tell him that. There was something inside me that told me it would be a lie - I just couldn't find a reason to believe that. The boy was vaguely familiar, and it left a hollow feeling in my stomach.
If I did know this boy, and I had met him, the chances are I'd have someone remove those memories. If I had done that, then there was only room to worry about why I had done it in the first place. Had I been involved with the ordeal this child had to face?
"How long have you been here, Henry?" I ask as the boy had calmed down, shrinking into himself, but calmed. The werewolves behind him were raising eyebrows at me, slightly concerned. I could only imagine the idea of a child vampire hadn't crossed their minds. Even the werewolves knew that we didn't change children; it was a reportable offence that would lead any culprit down the long road to execution.
"They told me to wait! So I wait right here!" He squealed, pointing to the woman behind the desk. I had been tempted to rush over to that desk and demand information about this boy, but the look on her face had changed completely. From one of complete fear to one of annoyance, "I... I'm going back now?"
"Ok, Henry." I smiled, nodding slightly.
"If you see my brother tell him Henry is here!" He said gleefully, rising up to stand on top of the chair, much to the dismay of the others behind him.
"Ok, Henry. Bye, little man." I said under my breath, and as I turned back the boy had disappeared. I took a deep breath, facing the door. I moved to exit the lobby but felt a colder breeze in the air that was impossibly wrong. I stiffened and turned back to look at the boy. Something moved in my stomach as though I knew this was bad. It could only be confirmation of something wrong.
The air outside was warmer than I was used to, especially for December. We were still deep in winter; the best time of year. Long nights, cold air and blushed cheeks - a combination that I sought out before the emergence. The sun that was radiating heat onto me had different plans for this winter morning and the settled snow had already begun to concede its reign over the concrete. Some areas of the tile were already turning to slush under the footfall this morning.
A visible breath to my left as I exited had caught my attention. A figure perched against one of the front pillars but facing away from me. They were bundled up in layers of clothing so I had assumed they were human, but I couldn't hear a discernible heartbeat or smell the sincerity of blood flow. Their hand was outstretched in front of them, their fingers extending in and out coloured with a pale complexion.
"Met Henry, did you?" The figure giggled, speaking in a high pitched voice. As I stepped beside them they turned to face me, but a book covered their face. The blonde curled girl had laughed, shaking a French dictionary in front of her face before lowering it to smile at me. I couldn't help but ignore my previous doubt and smile back at her; she was positively infectious, "Salut beauté!"
"Marianna- Bonjour." I greeted her, offering her the only word I could manage in the French dialect. I pointed back at the building quickly and questioned, "Who is he?" She had smiled knowingly, withdrawing from the space around me and beginning a walk away from the building. I considered Adrienne and then decided to walk along with her. There wasn't anything I could do to help Adrienne at this point. She was well versed in the dealings with the High Government, to a far larger degree than I was; and the chances of me being able to swan in there and save the day was low.
"Some Government Officials brother. He turned a few decades ago though," She murmured, her finger flipping through the pages before she scribbled down another translation on the scrap paper. The concentration she held on her face had been transitioned into complete elation as she learned more. Her fingers had gently flipped the page in the book, before going up to twist one of the rings on her second finger; the lilac stone ring that Rudhairi had gifted her on the second meeting.
I remember the night that followed fondly; Marianna ran into the lake house we'd occupied with a bounce in her step and a permanent grin on her face. She'd recounted the 'date' Rud had taken her on; wine tasting and a night dancing to piano and laughter.
She'd told me the story so many times; she'd set him off in anger, irritated that he'd harmed someone she'd cared about, and he hadn't understood how she felt until hours later. It was then that he'd gathered up a bundle of lavender and daisies, the ring, and apparently his body... the story had always ended there, with her implying she'd accepted all of those gifts. I hadn't met Rudhairi at that point, but I could tell even then he was completely besmirched by her presence.
Not that they'd gotten along immediately after that; the fights they had were enigmatic and continuous. It took centuries for them to settle into a loving relationship that remained only in love and care.
"Decades? Before the emergence?" She had looked up, giving me a quick glance before returning to her notes. It was only a split second but I had noticed her apprehension. The thought hadn't crossed my mind. We didn't tend to turn anyone before the emergence so I assumed the child was new and barely surviving.
In the weeks coming up to our decision we'd turned hundreds of people to have more on our side; an unintelligible plan when you consider human emotion and its ability to disregard instinct. An instinct is to protect yourself, but when you judge a mother and a child - an average mother will run into the line of fire for their child on several occasions and disregard their own safety without a thought. There was a struggle during the war; vampires who had been recently turned who didn't have the motivation to end human life for our betterment.
An understandable concept; but one that cost many their lives.
"Don't kid around! You remember the night," She said in disbelief. A medley of emotions had flashed across her face, first confusion, then comprehension. She stood back, lowering the book to her side and cocking an eyebrow in my direction. She placed a hand on my shoulder and whispered, "The city fell silent?"
"No- I..." There was a vague recollection; a flashing of images I couldn't discern as they flipped through like a photo book; a mass of faces I didn't recognise.
"Another memory you had sucked out of you? I'm going to have to talk to those sisters at some point," She had said in passing, continuing to walk once again, disregarding the conversation. There was the answer I needed; Marianna knew more than she was letting on; about what I'd done, and what it had to do with the boy - why something was hollering in the back of my mind. She looked so uncomfortable when she'd glanced in the boy's previous direction and I desperately wanted her to put the pieces together for me.
Then I considered the depths of my wrong-doings in the past, and realised, I probably didn't want the answer. Which meant I didn't have the strength to ask the question.
"Me too," I muttered as she began to walk ahead, her head inside the dictionary muttering French words far beyond my own comprehension. L'homme attendait une réponse. L'âme porte le poids de l'obscurité. Les souvenirs du passé sont fugaces tandis que l'attente continue. La pitié de la culpabilité. I couldn't help but smile as she tried to get to grips with the words.
I didn't know if I should follow her; she was in a world of her own, and most likely going to skip around the outskirts of Central until Rud came calling to drag her inside; there was a reason I didn't often visit him, and it was usually down to the fun they had together. I wanted no part in that side of their relationship.