Sunlight graced the mountainside that bone-chilling afternoon as Sebastian soared up into the clouds. Contrary to myths that vampires burned in the daylight hours, Sebastian honestly enjoyed a bit of sunshine. He held Asher tightly against him, wishing it were another tavern they’d visit and not a nightmarish old hospital he promised himself long ago that he’d never return to.

Decades passed and many locals forgot all about the treacherous deeds their ancestors committed. Sebastian tried not to dwell on the past too often but just the mere thought of entering that hospital again roused buried emotions. Magic users and humans despised the vampires, making them out to be the monsters for their toddlers fairytales at night. But those same heartless bastards stole everything from him.

Sebastian never could’ve foreseen himself carrying a vampire hunter like Asher in his half-bat form. Hunters were cruel and despicable people, but something about him was different. How did things become so messy? How could his past and that horrible hospital possibly hold clues to their killer’s true identity?

As he swept down toward the skeletal trees swaying in the wind, panic struck him like a death curse. Sebastian’s slow-beating heart skipped a beat. Everything within him screamed to turn back around or just drop Asher off then flee back into the safety of the heavens above. Anywhere but that gods-forsaken hospital.

When they reached the ground, Sebastian and Castor shifted back into their respective forms. However, Sebastian’s feet froze to the ground. The Crossroads Medical Center building loomed before him, worn down by the weather, but still erect and pulsing with ancient magic from hunters who desired to imprison his kind.

A threatening aura pulsated around the brick building like a heartbeat itself. Sulfur and burnt blackberry pie wafted in the air upon approach, but Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to tread up to that rickety entrance. Even from afar, he sensed an evil presence inside.

“We should leave,” Sebastian choked out.

“Let’s at least check out the inside,” Asher suggested with a curious grin. “I’m really fascinated by the magic that still guards the place. It’s still so potent. Maybe someone’s kept up with the barriers?”

“You can wait out here, Sebastian.” Castor gave him a sympathetic half-smile, as if it would reassure him. “I’ll make sure Asher doesn’t hurt himself or get possessed.”

Asher gave them a nervous chuckle. “As if that could ever happen.”

Despite Sebastian’s concerns, the two wandered off inside before he could convince them otherwise. Wind roared in his ears as he tugged his hood over his head. Magical energy shifted in the atmosphere, and Sebastian felt it very faintly emanating through the air. He took a few cautionary steps back.

They swore they’d only search for a few minutes. Worries surmounted as Sebastian continuously checked his pocket watch, wishing one of them would send him a signal. What could they possibly find in there?

Sebastian knew something was terribly wrong with that place. Nothing would ever eviscerate the heinous crimes and murders committed in that sinful building. That cross mounted to the top of the building was a mockery to any Gods they prayed to.

Snow flurries drifted all around him as he watched the entryway closely. Only the roaring winds and chirping snow birds could be heard, until the faintest creak caused his ears to perk up. The wind pushed the rest of the door open, as if inviting him inside.

It was a trap. Even when Castor and Asher’s petrified screams pierced through his very soul, Sebastian knew something was trying to lure him inside. Sebastian braced himself when he hurried to the entrance, clenched hands trembling at his sides. Without second guessing himself, he plunged into the dark depths and let the door seal him inside.

Cobwebs tickled his neck as he swatted them away and tread carefully inside, inspecting old crooked frames of vampire body diagrams. He shuddered. A plume of dust made his lungs itch as he crossed down the hallway, eyeing each vacant patient room he passed by. Each room had a rusty lock on the outside, to ensure none of the vampires escaped.

Further down the hallway, Sebastian called out for his friends. Panic rose in his voice. Something was in there with them. Perhaps their killer or an evil entity that never left at all. Whatever it was, Sebastian didn’t wish to linger around and find out what it wanted from them.

Eldritch music stopped Sebastian dead in his tracks. Eerie symphonies that haunted his nightmares drifted all throughout the hospital, reminding him of those days the alleged doctors performed their experiments on them. The music was entertainment for their tormentors.

“Castor? Asher?” Sebastian called out again. “Come on guys. I think we need to get the hell out of here. I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

A room ahead caught Sebastian’s eye. The door was cracked ajar, and he faintly heard something rustling around inside. Curiosity urged him to peek inside, hoping to discover his friends. Instead, it was just an empty room. Only a metal table with a tattered sheet remained in the room. It wasn’t like they gave the vampires luxuries of beds back then.

Upon stepping inside, something squelched beneath his insulated boots. Globs of viscous goo trailed further inside the room. Sebastian crouched down to inspect the substance, swiping a finger across the clear jelly-like substance and sniffed it. Ectoplasm.

“Show yourself.” Sebastian shot up, casting a suspicious glance around the room.

There were few creatures that left ectoplasm behind. Spirits possessing mortals and ghouls. One of them must’ve led him to that room, and upon closer inspection of the metal table, dread anchored in his chest. Ancient claw marks caught his attention. Most were zigzag lines, but quite a few were demon summoning circles and initials.

Sebastian traced his finger along the S and W. That was the very table they tormented him on. Demons didn’t always answer a summoning. Haunting memories flashed through his mind, crying out any demonic name he could recall from his demonology lessons as a wee lad. He never told anyone about it. Not even Castor.

As he staggered away from the metal table, he hastened to get the hell out of that room. Panic coursed through his veins. His anxieties only surmounted as he wandered aimlessly through a labyrinth of hallways, shouting for his friends. Why wouldn’t they answer him? Where could they have gone?

“Dammit.” Sebastian cursed under his breath. Where the hell had they gone? Why couldn’t he find them?

Ghostly shadows slithered along the walls. Playful giggles echoed in his ears, but he disregarded them and kept searching any unlocked room he stumbled across. Sebastian hadn’t stepped inside that hospital in decades, yet he knew his way around it like the back of his hand.

No matter how much he wanted to forget, he never would. Those days were long ago. All of the hunters who experimented on them were dead and gone. He’d kept track of them over the years, ensuring each surviving bastard died.

Sebastian rounded a corner, almost bumping into an old gurney as he neared the basement door. Everything within him screamed to bolt in the opposite direction. Any visit to the basement meant a hellish night of torture, until he wished for blissful death. But even with those thoughts in mind, he yanked that door open and plunged down into the musty depths for his friends.

With his nocturnal vision, he could navigate the concrete steps with ease. Blood tainted his senses with each jarring nightmarish memory that forced its way into his mind. Sebastian’s legs quivered with each step, reminiscing electro-shock treatments and fang removal surgeries.

“Guys?” Sebastian whispered, creeping quietly across the concrete floor, stained crimson from all the blood that was spilled there decades ago. “We need to leave. Something else is in here with us.”

Familiar torturing devices were tucked away in the corners of the room. Sebastian cringed at the mere sight of them, then relief fluttered through his chest as he spotted both Castor and Asher crouched over a metal filing cabinet.

Sebastian barely reached them when Asher jolted up, glowering at him. Embers of blue encased his body. “Stay back,” he warned.

“What?” Sebastian frowned.

Beside him, Castor drew his wand, directing it right at Sebastian’s head. “Who the hell are you?” his friend hissed.

“It’s me. Sebastian. I promise.” He spread his hands. “Nothing’s possessed me and I’m not a shapeshifter.”

“We found old records of the vampires they held here,” Asher explained, pointing to the files scattered out across their feet. “Yours are there.”

Sebastian cringed. “I don’t even want to imagine what they wrote down.”

“You can’t falsify those like that.” Asher shook his head. “I’ve worked with hunters for a long ass time, and I know what legit death records look like. The real Sebastian Wraith perished over forty years ago. So who the hell are you?”

“I never died.” Sebastian frowned. “Those records must be fake. How else would I be here? You’ve used my blood before, Asher. And Lucien did too, remember? There’s no way I could fake my own blood.”

“If you’re possessing Sebastian’s vampire corpse, you’d still use his blood,” Castor said, hand trembling with the fire magic he conjured up, as if preparing to attack him.

“Sebastian died from an overdose of silver injected into his veins and severe starvation,” Asher said quietly. “He was categorized as a binge drinker. There was no way he’d survive being without blood for so long.”

Sebastian reeled back. “I’ve always been a binge drinker, but it’s not something I’ve ever shared with anyone but one doctor in Valorath. He helped me. I know how to control myself and those urges now. That’s why I opened my clinic in the first place. To help those vampires like me.” He thumped his fist against his chest. “I really am Sebastian, I swear to you guys.”

“You’re no binge drinker,” Castor scoffed. “I’ve cared for them at your clinic, and I know the difference.”

“I take my blood pills every day.” Sebastian reached a trembling hand into his coat pocket, revealing a small mint tin. He tossed it to Castor. “See for yourself.”

“I’ve never noticed you over indulging on blood,” Castor pointed out.

“That’s because I have it under control. I don’t need to overfeed or drink excessive amounts of blood at a time,” Sebastian explained. “Please, you have to believe me. Force me to take a truth serum or something if you must! Anything to prove to you that I’m truly who I say I am.”

“I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.” Asher produced a small bottle from his coat, popping the top.

Asher lunged toward him and splashed it right in his face. Holy water. Sebastian simply wiped it from his cheek and nose with his sleeve, hoping that cleared up everything for them. Did they honestly suspect he was a demon in disguise?

“Do you believe me now?” Sebastian asked.

“Hells bells,” Castor muttered under his breath.

Asher gasped. “What in the name of the Gods are you?”

“Why are you both so foolish enough to believe some old files stowed away down here?” Sebastian asked, irritation mounting. “Did it ever occur to you that they forged documents to cover their asses?”

“These have the proper seal from Monarch Colette.” Asher’s voice came out hoarse as he collected the file, handing it over to him.

Sebastian glimpsed at it, shrugging. “They could have lied to her about my death at the time. Castor, you don’t honestly believe I’m someone else, do you?”

“All these experiments…” Castor shook his head. “It’s possible you’re so brainwashed that you actually believe that’s who you are. They tried all kinds of twisted psychological torture to make vampires fear magic and bend to wizards’ will.”

“Well, I guess if you don’t believe me, there’s not much else I can do.” Sebastian went rigid, fury simmering as he realized he could lose his best friend and Asher. “Let’s just get out of here. I don’t like this place. Something’s been following me since I got in here.”

“Something actually led us down here,” Castor admitted. “I suspect it was a spirit.”

“Why would a bygone ghost care about showing you my files?” Sebastian frowned. “What did it look like?”

“They didn’t show us their true form. Just led us down here to the basement,” Castor explained.

As the trio made their way back upstairs, he couldn’t help but ask, “Asher, be honest with me. You didn’t read about this hospital in that spellbook. Did your father send you to check out this hospital?”

Asher tensed up, eyes slanting as he gazed at an old, crooked painting coating in layers of dust. “Yes, he did. Now, I see why.”

Mr. Odowix just planted himself on the top of Sebastian’s suspect list.