Cyril

Before I ripped the poster off the wall, I took a moment to look at it. There was a blazing red with orange smoke – I figured the flames were supposed to represent Hell – behind the large winged black creature, its eyes red and its horns curled. Two diagonal white lines crossed the poster, and at the bottom a text had been written:

DEMONS BELONG IN HELL

With a sigh I ripped the poster off the wall and threw the lump of paper into the nearest bin. Along my way I removed at least a dozen more of the posters, groups of Supernaturals chuckling and whispering as I went.

When I reached the end of the vampire wing and approached the area near the main entrance, I saw the backs of a girl with too long hair and a too cheerfully dressed blonde gazing at one of the posters on the lockers. With my vampire speed I rushed to the lockers and grabbed the poster, tearing it to shreds before I balled it and threw it away.

"Don't look at those," I said as I placed a hand on both their shoulders. Wren glanced at her shoulder and slightly frowned, and I quickly pulled my hand back. "Are you girls here for Professor Eastwood?"

Elora smiled and shook her head. "We went to see him yesterday. He took some samples and stuff. We just wanted to check out the library." She sighed and shrugged. "But apparently all we're allowed to check out is the deepest pit of Hell."

"Don't worry about that, they are just bored." I glanced behind me, to the hallway I came from, and pointed. "I'll be over there if you need me."

As they walked away, I clasped my fingers around the plastic bottle in my pocket and wondered if this might be the only time I would have a chance to give it to her. Right before they turned the corner and disappeared, I moved in front of them.

"My apologies, but..." I nudged towards Wren, "Can I steal you for a minute?"

She nodded and smiled at Elora. "I'll see you at the library."

While I watched Elora walk away, I could feel Wren's gaze burning on me and hear her heart rate quicken and smell the salt of her freshly appearing sweat. "I've got something for you." I pulled my hand out of my pocket and held the bottle in front of her. "It's valium." I paused, and continued upon noticing her confusion. "For your anxiety disorder."

She took the bottle and shook it near her ear. "My what?"

I hadn't considered the fact she might not even be aware of it, but I had known from the moment I had met her. The way she was always nervous, even when alone, and the way her heartbeat never slowed down, not even at her calmest, and the way everything made her tremble of fear.

"You have an anxiety disorder," I said. "That's why your heart is always beating so fast."

Wren slightly slanted her small face. "You can hear my heartbeat?"

"Of course, I'm a vampire," I said. "Just make sure you take a low dose, start with half a pill a day, if that doesn't help, one pill a day. If that doesn't help either, you come to me, and I'll give you something else. And if you get sleepy, come to me as well, you're not supposed to get sleepy."

She nodded and continued studying the bottle, then opened the flap of her shoulder bag and placed it inside. Though she was tall, her face was like a child's, looking as if she'd shatter into a thousand pieces with the slightest touch. I couldn't tell whether her cheeks were hollow because she seemed underfed, or if her cheekbones were high. All I knew was that her eyes showed sorrow and suffering. Wren looked up and opened her mouth to say something, then closed her mouth and looked away with a frown.

I placed a hand on her shoulder and bent my head. "What is it?"

She swallowed and frowned at the floor. "This anxiety... does it cause you to see things?"

"You're seeing things?"

Her eyebrows flew up. "No. Just hypothetically speaking."

Lie. Her quickening heartbeat was my lie detector. "No. Seeing things is not a symptom of anxiety."

"Thanks for the pills," Wren said, and swallowed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She glanced at my hand and briefly touched it with her fingers. "Your hands, they're always cold, right?" She looked up and silently gasped. "I mean, vampires are supposed to be cold, right?"

"Usually, yes," I said. "Our body takes the temperature of the room or weather we're in. My skin will get quite warm in a sauna, and very cold in Alaska."

She narrowed her eyes and briefly glanced at the wall. "What about in Chrim? Let's say, at the beach?"

"Oh, my body will feel rather cold at the beach." I smiled and folded my arms. "Why are you asking?"

"Just curious," Wren said as she shook her head. "Thanks for the pills."

Lie. The wise voice inside my head was telling me there was more to it, but I decided to let it go. "No problem," I said with a smile. "Be careful, and don't hesitate to call me if the pills aren't working as they should."

Stepping into the vampire training room after the hallways with carved walls and domes, was like stepping into a complete different zone. Here the walls were made of big black tiles, the ceiling was straight and bright white with black frames, and on the white floors lay soft black mats. Some of the blurry shapes rushed through the entire room, vampires enhancing their speed, while the other blurry shapes collapsed against each other as they practiced their battling skills. From all over the world, newly turned vampires would come here to control and improve their abilities. Most of them didn't stick around too long, but some stayed and settled in.

I opened the door at the end of the room and folded my arms as I gazed at Loreen and Heather, who were sitting on the mentor's desk. "I can smell the smoke all the way in the cafeteria," I said, my voice harsh. "This is not your private little clubhouse, ladies."

Along with Mike, a Canadian fella somewhere in his twenties, Heather had arrived a week ago in Chrim, brought by the vampire who had turned them and could no longer control them. Though Heather could be a handful, as women were always more difficult with their hormones being heightened after being turned, neither Mike nor Heather had been difficult to handle in comparison to Helena or Fenna. He was a weakling, the bastard who had turned them, like those who buy a pit-bull pup to look tough and end up not knowing a damn about training dogs.

Loreen threw the cigarette in her cup of coffee, a sizzling sound came as she shook the cup briefly. "We were waiting for you, Sir Cyril. We're supposed to learn stuff here, but we still don't have sedation under control."

"Hush, are you nuts?" I whispered as I glanced behind me to see if I'd closed the door. "If anyone hears you, both of us will end up in the cells below. I can't teach you those things, you know very well they're forbidden."

"That's ridiculous," Loreen said. "That's like, not teaching a human how to talk or walk or swim."

In the corner of the room, next to the windows and below a poster of a bat hanging upside down, was a mini fridge with a glass door containing plastic bags with white labels and red liquid in different shades. I took out three bags labeled B and tossed two to the girls.

The girls moved the straw to their lips and helped themselves as I did the same. It tasted bland, old and cold blood always did. Not like warm blood, a taste with a blend of sweet and spicy and fresh, a flavor always reminding me of the savory pies and sugared pork my mother used to make.

"I'm scared, Cyril," Heather said. "What if I end up like Charlie?"

"You won't." I drank the last bit and crushed the bag in my palm. "Charlie was a mistake made by a desperate woman. Turning a child into a vampire, despicable."

Loreen lit a new cigarette. "I think I would've done the same, if I were his mother." She briefly glanced at Heather, who nodded as she stared at the ground with dreamy eyes. "I don't think I could've let my child die knowing that there's a way out."

"This is not a way out and we are not alive, Loreen." I took the cigarette from between her fingers and threw it in the coffee cup. "Charlie was dead either way."

"And I'm supposed to be dead as well," Loreen said, her voice loud. "But I don't feel dead, Cyril, and I want to make the best of my new situation. I want to be the vampire I'm intended to be, and for that I need to learn what a vampire is supposed to learn."

Her yelling didn't impress me, nor did the way she had lowered her head to make her eyes look more threatening, or the way she had placed one hand on her hip. Defying the laws of Krol, however, seemed very tempting.

When the Reverie closed at midnight, I thought about skipping today's meeting in the cave and have a drinking night with Elias instead, then imagined how the vampires would probably track me down and drag me out. Sometimes I failed to see the point of our separate – and highly secret – vampire club. It had started two decades ago when a small group of five approached me and told me how they didn't want to be under Nestor's reign, how they were revolted by the blood bag rule, and how they had the right to have the freedom of keeping a donor. It had made sense to me, since donors were groupies who willingly offered their blood and I could never see a problem with that. Before I knew it, I had become their leader and the small group of five had grown into one of nearly seventy.

As I stepped in front of the entrance of the cave, moss falling down over its opening like a mane, I could see a few small and distant flickers of fire within its dark mouth. We could have rented – or bought – any of the empty houses in Chrim, which were only available to Supernaturals or the old human families, but vampires loved a theatrical scene, and it was somewhat of inside joke – myths saying that vampires turn into bats and caves being the home of bats – thus, every Friday we met in this large cave.

As usual, Helena and Fenna were already waiting for me at the entrance, their slim backs turned to me as they studied two clasping snails. I had convinced them I liked having them next to me when entering the meetings, I had used the word 'super-assistants', which they had found adorable, but the truth was that I always got lost in the endless hallways inside the massive maze-like cave. Once I had spent two nights in the caves before I had finally found my way out.

"Oh, my God," Helena said as she briefly glanced at Fenna. "Are they having sex?"

"Animals don't have sex," Fenna snapped, pushing a brown lock behind her ear. "They mate."

"How is that any different?" Helena asked with a snort.

"It's different, Helena, because –" Fenna raised an eyebrow. "animals don't suck each other's balls and tits. They only have one goal: to reproduce. Which is why it's not sex, but mating."

Helena gasped and widened her eyes. "You suck balls?"

I scraped my throat, causing the girls to shriek and leap up, and sighed. "I'm so, so sorry to interrupt this interesting conversation. It's just that I have something more interesting planned for this Friday night. Hmm, yes indeed, more interesting than mating snails."

A twisted smile appeared on Fenna face as she stepped forward. "Oh, I'm afraid you'll have to cancel those plans, and no – not because of mating snails, but because we have a big fucking problem on our hands."

"Problem? More like a catastrophe." Helena enlarged her eyes. "Vampires are dying, Cyril. It's horrifying."

"What?"

Helena grabbed my arm and led me through the cave entrance. "It's a virus or something," she said as she turned left to one of the many paths. "And it's spreading like crazy. Like, since yesterday, already three have died and another six are sick."

With a swift move I ducked to avoid one of the sharp edges of the countless white stalagmites, hanging from the caves like teeth. Tough, it was the continuing sound of the dripping water I hated most here. It just went on and on, the same beat and the same sound, drip drip drip, on and on and on.

"How did this happen?" I asked. "Who got infected first?"

Helena shrugged as she pulled me into another dark path. "We don't know. Nobody has ever seen anything like it before."

I scoffed. "Of course nobody has. I have yet to see the day where any of them is useful. Have they gone to Craig yet?"

"Yeah. Craig said he was busy with some brain tissue surviving without oxygen or something, so I threatened his wife and now he's on it," Fenna said.

A smile appeared on my face and I stopped my pace. "A brain tissue surviving without oxygen?" I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. "Nah... That's impossible."

"Hey." Fenna snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. "Focus, Cyril. Vampires are dying, remember?"

The moment we stepped inside the hall, the vampires started towards me. I cringed and pressed my palms against my face upon the overwhelming noise of their overlapping loud voices. Finally I slammed my fist against the wall, causing several stalagmites to fall, and their voices soothed. "Helena and Fenna have filled me in about the virus," I said as I folded my arms. "So, unless you can tell me what started the disease or how to cure it, don't bother to tell me what I already know." I paused and waited for them to calm down. "What are the symptoms? And where are the sick ones?"

A slender man blew out a cloud of smoke and threw the cigar on the ground, twisting his foot on it before he cleared his throat and moved closer. Behind him followed a chubby man, and their identical brown slick hair and wide narrow dark eyes made it clear that they were brothers.

"The sick ones are currently at Craig's research facility," Lucius Cotter, the slender one, said in his southern accent. "As for their symptoms, it starts with a fever, their skin gets a rash and they start to sweat. Looking at the previous cases, the sick ones at Craig's will most certainly be dead within a few hours."

Fenna moved in front of him and slanted her head. "And, you are?"

A smile appeared on his face. "Oh, my apologies, ma'am. It's Cotter, Lucius Cotter. And that's my brother, Victor." He made a small bow. "It's a pleasure meeting you."

Victor frowned and said nothing. It was nothing I had never seen before in siblings, one charming and well-spoken and the other silent, and their arrival in Chrim was no surprise either, a new stream of Supernaturals would come looking for a heaven for the damned every day, yet I trusted them just as much as I trusted Helena at the controls of an airplane.

"We need a safe place for quarantine, to secure those who might get sick in the future," I said loudly. "In the southern area are plenty of empty warehouses, use those but be careful the humans don't see you." I slowly paced around.

What I was really waiting for, was for someone to step up and say they had discovered something. I was not foolish enough to believe this virus had hit us out of nowhere, and whoever had the antidote would be the guilty one. But nobody said anything. I knew they would, eventually, it was just a matter of time.

My gaze fell on the chair they had built at the end of the room, crafted from the exact same chalk as the dozens of stalagmites hanging above it. They had made it for me – their leader – and though I had always found it an ugly chair, too big and misshapen, it had been a way for them to honor me, and it may have been the most precious gift I had ever received. This was my chance to actually earn it, to be the leader who was worthy of that precious gift.

Time was something we did not have, and I could not wait around. If I wanted to have the slightest chance to find answers, or a cure, I knew I wouldn't find it in Chrim, where the truth was always swept underneath the thickest carpet of lies. "Which of you is interested in joining me on a little trip to Vegas?" Upon seeing Helena raise her hand, I sighed and pushed her hand down. "Not you, Helena. I'm sorry, but I need you to look after Loreen, Mike and Heather."

Lucius gave me a small nod as he stepped forward. "Me and my brother, we spent a few decades in Vegas back in nineteen-ought-seven, so we know our way around. We'll be happy to join you."

"I'm coming too," Fenna said, her hand raised. "I can use a break outside of this freak-town." She shrugged and glanced around with a smile. "No offence."

There was no guarantee he would have any answers, but I knew I needed to try, even if it meant dropping on my knees and pleading with the man I loathed more than anything. A shiver went through me at the thought of meeting my creator again.