Chezire: My Vampire

Prolouge: Goodbye

"What are you doing! My god, you monster!" Shrieked a woman, her brown eyes large with fear and terror. She was kneeling upon the dark cedar floor of the foyer, her face pallid with fear. Her hands were clutching her chest, as if the simple gesture was comforting her. In front of her stood a boy, his coal black eyes showing nothing, fearing nothing.

"Why are you doing this?" screamed the woman again, her voice frantic with terror, as she tried to scoot away from the child. He stood there, his eyes betraying no emotion, but a sick, sadistic smile, never meant to be on a child's face, creeped it's way across his face.

Slowly, he took a languid step towards the woman, his eyes never leaving her face. The woman whimpered and slid back more, trying to keep a comfortable distance from the boy. He took another languid step, and paused.

"Why am I doing this?" asked the boy, mocking the woman. He tilted his head to the side, his dark black eye still showing nothing. Flitting across his forehead in dark strips, his black bangs slightly glided across his skin with this simple movement of his head. His pale hand motioned around him, as the sadistic grin stayed on his lips. With fear, the woman noted dark, red blood trailng down from the boy's fingers, dripping slowly down his pale arm, staining the sleeve of his white shirt.

Behind the boy was a man, laying on the floor with blood gushing from a wound on his neck. His blonde hair was sticking up in odd angles, blood staining that soft hair. His neck was twisted in an odd direction, an odd object, no doubt a bone, jutted out from the side of his neck grotesquely. A large chunk of flesh had be savagely torn from his thick neck, and blood gushed from the wound steadilly. Wide, and clear, the dead man's eyes were filming over from his recent death. But his eyes still contained the horror and terror he felt when he was killed, and forever that look would stay in his eyes. A dark puddle of his lifeforce, his blood, started to stain a light beige rug on which he laid. Still, not a nerve twitching. Death had already stolen upon the man's soul.

The woman was trembling slightly, staring up at the boy, her eyes sometimes darting to the dead man.

"I am doing this for the same reason you sought out that bastard's touch." Hissed the boy, venom dripping from his voice, poisoning the air. His pale hand flourished in the air and pointed to the dead man.

Opening her mouth to bite something out at the boy, the woman's eyes glinted in anger. But, the boy stepping closer ceased her from talking. Instead, a whimper took it's place as she curled up and tried to protect herself from the boy.

The boy continued forward to the cowering woman, and crouched down. His face was devoid of any emotion, an eeriely stoic look upon his features. He stared at the trembling mass, sneering slightly.

"W-why are you doing this?" Squeaked out the woman, crocodile tears forming in her eyes. Her voice crackled with no sorrow, only fear. Fear of losing her life. Her lips trembled as she spoke.

"I am doing this," Started the boy, his eyes lighting up with a pyschotic gleam, "Because, I want to."

Again, the woman's mouth opened to state something, but all that came out was a gutteral gurgle. Her eyes grew large, and lost gleam of life. Blood slowly flooded her windpipe, and she gasped to breathe, trying to cling to this dismal life she owned.

The boy's black eyes continued to glow happilly, as he yanked his hand out from the woman's chest. There in his hand was a pulsing heart, still warm. It continued to beat, trying to pump blood through arteries that it was no longer connected to. Dark red blood, almost black, dripped to the wooden floor, causing a tiny pittering sound. Admiring the half-living organ, the boy watched it with little fascination. The woman fell to the ground, her dark brown eyes rolling back into her head at the loss of her heart.

"Oh, please. It's not as if you ever used it." muttered the boy, rolling his eyes in disgust. Slowly, he stood up, and unceremoniously dropped the heart down in front of the woman's still form. Softly, he walked to the large double, oak doors of the darkened room. He stopped in the doorway, and observed the scene with mild amusement. He had done all of this, killed the two, and it gave him a sick sense of pride. No lights lit the room, and only a thick air of death seem to float through it's air. A slow smile of accomplishment flitted across the boy's face as his eyes fell onto the woman's still form, yet again. Small, pointed canines could be outlined in that boy's smile.

"Good-bye, Mother."

And so, he left the room, his small feet making not a sound on the carpet outside. Into the cold embrace of the night he fled, into the waiting carriage that was driven blindly through the dark streets. All ties that had held him to humanity were now dead. He was free to live on immortally, as he was.

A monster.

A child.

A vampire.