In the place where I lived, there was worry to a person when they saw a nine-year-old crossing the street and looking around in fear. Most people would back off, since that was a common sense habit. But when I was the nine-year-old walking around in fear, there was no way that common sense would be a part of me anymore. I had to use the mature inner self that I refused to shed in the past and make it come to good use, because I would need every ounce of manliness I had.
He left a note beside the cottage when I came back from school, and that scared the hell out of me. I wondered why he didn't just come into the forest again and taunt me into fright, make my nightmares worsen, but there was no sight of him after that night. Only when I noticed the note dangling between the door and the door frame did I realize that I was in danger to follow what it said. Father always told me to be a good boy and not do what the bad people told me. Father also said that I shouldn't back down from my fears.
So, being the curious and stubborn child I was, I listened to the soothing quote he told me: don't back down from my fears.
And that's how I ended up sitting face to face with that frightening man, two feet away from that shockingly pale skin and remarkable beauty that shone from the tip of the first strand of blond hair that he owned to the leather boots he dragged onto the tiled floor. There waa mud streaks that left a track behind his footing, but he didn't seem to mind. I had half a thought to think that the waitress didn't mind either only to the point where I saw her shivering near the coffee-maker, her eyes darting from the pot to the man in front of me. I shuffled uneasily.
"What's your name, boy?" He asked, his bright blue eyes as cold as his voice.
"Zelos." I muttered, surprised by how confident my tone was.
"Well, Zelos, I'm giving you an option." He placed down the mug of coffee that he was holding and looked me dead in the face, making me fidget again. "Since you know about me, and since I was completely intoxicated and drunk that night, you have a few choices on the result."
I gulped. I didn't like the way this was going.
"One," his voice became somewhat more cheerful, as if he was reading my mind that this was the option I was picking, "you can die."
I stopped thinking happy thoughts and willed in my mind for him to say that the second option was a lot more cleaner than murder.
"Or two," he set the cup down, and his throat adjusted to a more gruffier tone as he continued, "you can die, but live again. Live like how I live. You never have to worry about disease. No worries about dying at all, actually. And to be honest, you won't necessarily be dying in the first place. It'll just feel like it during the Ceremony." The left side of his lips quirked into a smile.
"C-Ceremony?" My heart skipped a beat. Was he one of those people that liked to slaughter chickens? Like seriously tore off their heads just because they thought they were the higher breed?!
"You're quite amusing, Zelos." I didn't like the way he said my name, as if it already was in his possession. "It's quite disheartening to know that Dimitri isn't here. You can say that he's a psychic, since you probably don't want to hear the truth, right? Had too much of that already?" His jaw had tightened, and the vein at the side of his temple pulsed. I shivered.
"So it's true, then?" I whispered, leaning in. It was dangerous to do so, but I was guessing it would be worse when people around us could hear his secret out loud. "You're a..."
"Vampire, yes."
I had to strain to hear his response since he said it so faintly, but I made out the vowels enough to get that it was true. Right before me was a breathing, (or not breathing, I still don't understand that to this day) living vampire. My insides went cold, but I still had enough energy to hear him speak again.
"The Ceremony, you could assume, is the process in which we make a human into a vampire. All it takes is a few simple steps, really: cut myself, cut yourself, mix it all together and then take a swift bite." He chuckled a bit, and I actually thought I saw the steam from his mug of coffee blow away completely. "If we put in enough blood, you might not even feel the bite; it's like getting high so long that you feel numb through to the ending point." Amusement crossed his face. "But enough about that. It's your choice. Either way, it's taxing on my part. Either way, you won't see your father again, or anyone you care about." He dangerously licked his pearly teeth, grinning. "Either way, you'll be dead."
I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Would I take a stupid risk? Would I literally take my life to be a blood-sucking creature and the most highest creature to man kind, walking around and having feasts within the lonely city? Would I leave my father, who deep down loved me because of my accomplishments that I progressed over through the years? Would I leave the life that I saw through my eyes now to seeing myself as the most dangerous predator on Earth?
No. Never.
"I won't do it. I'm not obliging." I stated clearly, even though my voice was weak and feeble.
He seemed disappointed, leaning back and placing his mug down with a deafening clatter. Some of the folks turned around, but then busied themselves with conversation a few seconds later. I hadn't realized he started drinking from that mug again, but now that my better senses came back to me, I smelled the faint scent of salt mixed with that coffee. I wondered where...
My eyes traveled over to the waitress, and underneath the cuff of her uniform I saw a dagger-slash on her wrist, still throbbing with a small smidge of blood. My eyes darted back to the man, whom looked placid with a lazy posture.
"You made her cut herself! Just for your own need!"
He sighed. "No, Zelos, I didn't. She had two-thirds of her will to me before I even entered the shop, watching me from out the window. It just took a little more persuasion and then I hit the mark. No one even noticed." He turned around to peek at the waitress and smile at her, and I watched her blush and walk away hastily to avoid contact with the man again. He turned back to me.
"Well, it is quite sadening that you won't come to my equally satisfying terms, but I won't force you." His eyebrows were raised in approval. "There's something about already that intrigues me, though I don't know what. You would make an excellent ally in battle, I think."
Again, I was against. "No."
"Alright, alright then." He stood up and headed for the door, leaving a large tip on the table. I heard the bell on the door jingle a few times before the door closed completely, and I took my own coffee for a sip. knowing it would taste horrible against my nine-year-old tongue.
The instant it took me to inhale my first sip was enough time for him to come back in, tackle me to the floor, give me a serious head injury, and leave me stunned to stare at the appalled people before I blacked out into oblivion.