A neck. 

A human neck with its rosy lustre reduced to a pale imitation of what It had once been, with two thin holes slowly leaking the last remaining blood this poor person had. They had no heartbeat anymore, not one I could hear and their skin was slowly turning cold like my own. 

My tongue slivered over my lip and I could taste it, as good as it was just moments ago. The blood. Drawn from the person who I grappled to the ground. Small blood puddles were splayed out around me as well, serving as a reminder of what I had done. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

Despite my nose’s protest, I dropped the cold corpse to the floor, flinging myself to the other side of the room and almost crashing into the cupboard. This, what, no. No. No!

Crumpled and battered the corpse thudded against the stone tile, echoing the blood-chilling sound of exposed bone meshing against a stone. To call the state of that body horrific was an understatement, jutting fragments of white and bright red torn skin all over. The face distorted into a crushed image with such a lithe figure that I found it impossible to even tell their gender. 

My eyes were wide and refused to look away, traces of moral fibre remaining unrelenting in the fact that I must burn this picture of brutality into my mind. Their blood was on my lips and death was enacted by my two shaking hands.

The body wanted to return to its usual relaxed state but my mind was in absolute shambles, tripping over itself trying to find some justification for what I’d done. A part of me found that other part stupid, strange enough. That human was food and its wellbeing mattered little if another feed from it was not planned. 

To that side of my, that now lurked under the surface and scared me more than anything else, this was not cruelty but mere indulgence. 

I decided at that moment that if nothing else, this person death had served to make sure I never listened to that small lingering side again. 

“You done with that?” The taller of the two men asked, pointing his skinny finger at that mangled corpse in front of me.

I didn’t know what to do other than hesitantly nod while trying to quell my shaking hands without giving in to the apathy. With my eyes now open I could see the two men, both of a similar height with common features brown that doubled for both their hair and eyes. Both bore the look of slaves that had long outworked their use, staying barely on the cusps of life and health with the minuscule rations provided.

Brothers? 

They were both garbed in minimal rag’s worse than Sven’s and my own, which looked as if they could fall off at any moment if not tied down by the belts they also wore. On closer inspection, these two didn’t actually smell of rot but rather had the scent stuck around them like a primal form of ownership animals would use to distinguish what was theirs. It might’ve interested me if not for the revolting scrap sound of the corpse being dragged away from my partly broken legs. 

In one moment he was through the door and in the next that same door was slammed shut, my hearing picking up the quickening footsteps only slowing once they returned to the lobby area where the sound began to echo too much for me to translate it properly. No one arrived after they left, leaving me to my own thoughts, something I dreaded more and more.

Part of my brain simply refused to process the fact that I had just ended someone’s life, even more so for something as trivial as blood. I could have stopped, I knew that. But that small semblance of home I had gotten tasting the blood felt so real, so warm. 

It pained me to acknowledge that even now, I wanted more. So much more. 

But I can’t do that again… how could I. These are people, not animals, they have dreams, families, friends. Oh god, what have I done? 

I wasn’t ready for this, my stunted breathing portrayed that as clear as day. This wasn’t a life I could lead. 

“Should I just… die?” 

No, I couldn’t do that either. Death scared me a lot, perhaps more so than it would others. Living on the fringe of life should’ve got me accustomed to the idea that my time would come, but it didn’t. Instead, it birthed a fear that I would end and so too would any chance I had to make up for my miserable life, to do right by those who had suffered for my existence. My sibling, my parents, that corpse and…

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be okay. Just keep going.” I told myself in whispers hoping none would hear. Those words were meant for me and no one else.

Just as I finished mumbling another, a light knock came from my door. The smell of food emanated from the other side but right now I wasn’t in the mood to feed, nor might I ever be again if I had anything to say about it.

“May I enter?”

It was a voice that my jumbled memories vaguely recalled from yesterday. Sven, the servant or whatever the hell he was that I saved, well more like just prevented from dying which I guess is the definition of sav.. 

“*Ahem* Stray? May I enter?” 

He asked again. I gave myself a moment to register the thought before looking at the small blood puddles and fragmented flesh and bone bits scattered across the room and my clothes. 

“Go… ahead” I croaked out with a voice that plain to see was sullen and lost. 

With a disgruntling sound of wood pushing against metal, he pushed the door open, gazing at me with a far brighter expression than yesterday. 

“Righty, righty so before you’re shuttled off to your lessons for the day we…” 

His words came to a halt seeing my poor state. Unlike what I would imagine without the boons of a monster’s blood Sven didn’t shy away, inspecting the room and blood puddles like they were common pieces of trash that one might expect, not the results of a person's death.

The unperturbed nature unsettled me slightly, finding his bright smile unfit for the reality thrust in front of us both. 

“…We should probably do something about this mess.”  

With hurried steps he made his way to the standing cupboard, opening it and taking the wooden broom from inside. Slowly but surely he used it to sweep the bits of bone and flesh torn off during the struggle into a metal bucket he had brought with him. 

“Not a very fun start to the day, eh?” 

“…” 

“Yeah… it’s probably not funny the first time.” Sven backtracked nervously, noticing that his attempt to perhaps elevate my spirits had fallen. “Look, if it’s any condolence the people that end up in the pens here didn’t have anything to live for anyway.” 

“…” 

“Plus, now you know for next time. Better it happens when you're still impressionable, that way you’ll learn to moderate yourself.” 

He sounded like he was speaking out from experience, but none of his words made the sinking feeling go away. What was meant to relieve me only made me painfully aware that this man wasn’t normal either. Surely I was the fool for hoping I might find some semblance of what I knew in a place filled with vampires. 

He continued to sweep the remains, trying his best to make what I presumed was small talk. I gave little to no reply to any of it, not because I didn’t want some to talk to, that I craved, but because I just didn’t know what to say. Countless words and questions formed in my head but none came out of my mouth. 

“Oh! I’m Sven by the way, sorry for the late introduction but it just slipped my mind.”

The outstretched hand was probably meant as nothing more than a gesture of civility and proper greetings. To me though, it felt like I was starring down a deep divide. In one I saw myself slapping away such a primitive action and tearing this prey’s throat out for thinking he could offer such disrespect. Within the other, I did nothing more than take his hand. It was boring but contained a level of tranquillity I desperately sought at that moment.

“Not very talkative are you.” He mused seeing that even after helping me up I didn’t offer any words. “Did you decide on a name yet?” 

“A n-name?” I stuttered as the mental whiplash that trying to remember my own caused was still fresh in my mind.

“So you can talk. thought you might’ve forgotten after yesterday. Did Lord Vannagrash or Lady Rez not inform you the whole point of last night’s free time was for you to come up with a name?” 

My eyes wandered down to my stained red tunic trying to avoid the slight embarrassment I felt for totally phasing out any instruction given yesterday. A name, a new one at that. Something about the thought of renaming myself made me deeply depressed. For the sake of clarity though, it wasn’t like coming up with a common designation besides “Fangless” or “Stray” could be avoided. I was getting rather sick of both those nicknames and their foreboding implications. 

“Any ideas?” 

“Vannis,” I replied almost by instinct.

That was odd. The name had no particular tie to me but just kinda came as a natural response. I recognised that this was not my old name but a new one, hell it might not even have been coming from me. The longer I lingered in the realm of consciousness the more I felt like there was something in me, like a living creature of some kind hiding under my skin. It was an absolute skin-crawling sensation. 

“It’s an honour to meet you Vannis and honestly I’m kind of impressed,” Sven said through a dirty grin, holding up a familiar black book. “Never thought someone so short would B line for domination guides, guess you can’t tell a book by its cover after all.”

My cheeks burned so bright red in embarrassment after that comment that someone on a quick glance might’ve thought Sven had found a way to cure Vampirism. He spent a few more minutes dallying about trying to make me feel better before muttering incoherently about time being up and leading me back into the Azure lit hallway. 

There were many more people this time travelling through the darkened hallways, scrambling too and fro in morning haste. Sven was neither fast nor slow in leading me towards wherever my destination was, waddling down the hallway and the staircase I had scaled yesterday before making a 180 turn around the railing and showing me down a new hallway that extended south from the lobby. We walked down it bumping into more and more people that reminded me of the three from yesterday. They smelled of rot but didn’t give me a sense of impending doom. I in no way desired to fight any of them but my instinct had confidence in holding my own. 

“You’ll be going to these lessons consistently for about two weeks before you qualify for the Blood Right. Think of it as thanks but my best suggestion would be to take as many extra combat lessons as possible, you will need them.” 

Great. So not only was I destined for a life of coffins and blood-sucking but these pale pricks were also gonna cramp knowledge down my skull. 

At least I like learning. 

“Sven, you’re awfully calm for someone who very nearly died hours ago.” 

“Look who’s become a chatterbox, even for a vampire you still look like a tomato” Sven cackled at my expense, fearlessly cracking jokes that lessened my fear of the future somewhat. “I’m used to that harpies game. The Rez clan despises Savrin almost as much as they do mixed blood. Speaking of which, next piece of advice, don’t piss off any Fangless sired by a pureblood. They have their position in a clan all but secured and coming here for them is a right of passage to cut out the weaker reborn.” 

“Pure Blood’s?” I blurted out, unfamiliar with that term.

“Vampire’s born from two vampires or sired by one of the nine. Nasty fuckers with power that almost rivals their own sense of self-importance.”  Sven replied, adorning the most serious looked I’d seen. I swallowed down a giggle seeing the contrast. 

We kept going down the same hallway then turned to the left on an intersecting corridor that was even bigger, built to keep the passage clear probably. Finally, Sven came to a resounding halt at a giant double door that must’ve been three times my size, inlaid with a slithering silver that hurt my eyes.

“Be careful Vannis, don’t let them see any weakness in you. Predators like them thrive off eradicating anything with vulnerability.” Sven added as a finishing remark before unceremoniously pushing me through the doors.