He looked out at the snow outside

He looked out at the snow outside. His golden eyes are filled with longing and acid memories. This day… it reminds him of that fateful day so very long ago. It had been a hundred years or so at the very least, but he hadn’t grown at all. He still looked like the 14-year-old boy that he had been.

The 14-year-old boy that no longer was.

“Mom? Dad? I’m—” He screams and drops the rabbit he had caught for dinner on the cold ground as his stomach churns and threatens to explode. There’s blood everywhere… his father’s head is on the couch, but his body is on the floor and his arm is on the lampshade.

His mother is lying spread-eagled on the ground… there’s a gaping tear on her neck where it looked like a wild animal had gotten a hold of it and shook it around. He screams again, his eyes widen and he backs up.

There are tears rolling down his face as he collapses on the ground, his mind unable to comprehend the horror of what was in front of him. He hears a sound— something was rolling on the hard floor. He senses that there is something staring at him.

His senses were right… he looks towards the ground and finds a clear blue eyeball staring up at him.

Lacking a socket.

He cries out and runs for the front door, but there is a loud crash outside and he freezes… The murderers… were they still out there? What if they come after him? He panics and hides in a cupboard, but the noises do not stop.

They only get worse.

There are barks, and squeals, and whimpers, and screams and shouts and cries of pain worse than the poor boy could ever imagine. There are sickening thuds, and the sound of skin being torn off of bone. The shouts were all different, too. It wasn’t like there were one or two people… there were at least fifty people were they really people?) out there fighting. He shivered, his body curling together in a desperate but futile attempt to make himself smaller. No… to make himself invisible.

There is a bark, and the sound of a door being opened.

He curls himself smaller. He wishes he could disappear.

The noise is becoming louder, it’s booming in his head and blocking out comprehensible thought. He starts to cry… the tears are hot against his face and they taste like salt.

The footsteps aren’t really footsteps… they’re more of a clickety-click, like an animal.

And then the clickety-click disappears, and in its place is a squeal, a whimper, and then silence.

He flinches. He wants to know… what happened?

He opens the door just a crack and peeks out. The dead body of a wolf is less than a foot away.

He throws up again.

“Well, well… what do we have here?” Roziel gasps and looks up. He hadn’t been paying attention, he hadn’t been thinking.

He had been found.

“And here I thought I had killed all of you pesky humans. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Useless.” The thing talking… it looked like a man. Its hair was long and its skin was an ivory pallor, its eyes were crimson like blood and its nails were long and sharp and lethal.

It is a dangerous sort of beauty.

The thing (man? God? Demon?) rushes at him, its beautiful mouth parted to show sharp, pearly fangs.

Vampire?

He screams as the long nails rip out his stomach.

Is he going to die here, of all places?

He can barely feel the sensation of a rough tongue on his stomach, licking the wounds, before he passes out.

His eyes flutter open. There is a pain in his leg… but not a horrible pain. It felt more like he had been nipped by an overzealous puppy dog.

The pain in his stomach was gone.

He sits up… his head is dizzy. He pukes again. There is wolf watching him.

“I’m sorry.” It says. His eyes widen at the sound of the crisp voice.

“Wha?”

“You poor thing… getting brought into this.” It’s silver fur ripples as it walks towards him. He is strangely calm… he senses no ill will from this beautiful creature.

“I had to turn you… to save you.” It says.

“You were dying. A vampire attacked you. I had to infuse my blood with yours to keep you alive. I couldn’t save your parents… but at least I could save you.”

He feels his body growing hot. Was he changing?

There is a scream outside, and the wolf turns. “I’ll be back… don’t worry.”

But he knows. He doesn’t know how, or why…

But he knows he will never see his savior again.

He wakes up with the feeling of someone looming over him.

The someone leans down and brushes his hair out of his face. “A little scrawny and young, perhaps… but you’ll do.”

The man (the voice was too deep for it to be female) caresses his face.

‘He doesn’t know…’ Roziel thinks. ‘That I’m already…’

The vampire kisses him, its hand moving down, down, down. Its nails cut away his shirt. There is something in its saliva that paralyzes him… not like he could move anyway. He is still in too much pain to move.

The hands sink lower, lower, lower until they slip beneath his waistband and cup him fully in those large but delicate, cold but warm hands. He’d never been touched like this before. He didn’t think he liked it much.

He realizes too late that it was a distraction. The vampire’s teeth sink into him, it is sucking his blood and Roziel could feel the blood from the hollow part of its fangs mixing with his blood and the blood from the werewolf.

The vampire stops. Its pretty face is turning blue, it is choking now, gasping on the floor.

“Werewolf blood… you’ve been turned already!” It says. It is dying.

Roziel just stares. He feels nothing as the creature’s life sputters and goes out. The trauma has messed with his head and left him completely emotionless.

He is starting to feel hot. His insides are churning, twirling, spinning, turning. He wants to puke again, but he has already done it so much that there is none left.

A new voice, oddly familiar, starts to echo in his head. Let me out, it says.

“Shut up…” He answers.

No. Let me out.

He shakes his head. The voice… he knows what it is. He understands what has happened.

I am you.

“I know.”

Vampire blood is poison to werewolves. Werewolf blood is poison to vampires. Their blood cannot mix.

Even inside of him.

His other self… because it is his other self, he knows this instinctively. His other self is wrong.

A vampire.

He is a werewolf.

My name is Raziel, It tells him.

I know.

I am you.

Yes.

Let me out.

No.

And then the full force of the events hit him, and he passes out.

Roziel woke up from his dream— no. His memory.

He got up and moved to the restroom, looking into the mirror at his tan skin and black hair. His golden eyes stared back at him apathetically.

The eyes in the mirror change, becoming a deep crimson red. The skin is no longer dark, but the color of ivory.

Hello, Roziel. it says.

Hello, Raziel.

Are you going to let me out now?

No… no. I’m not going to let you out.

But I am you.

Yeah, yeah. But you can’t come out. You hurt too much.

Humans are stupid.

Yes, yes. I know.

Why don’t you want to kill them?

Because.

His face lengthens and his hair ripples over his body.

His lithe muscles are small but deadly. His nose can pick up any kind of sent no matter how far away.

He is small, but he is fast. He bounds out the window, his paws leaving prints in the snow.

But I am you.

I know.