I remember my time in the Hart clan. The dark cult that ruined my life. The Dark Lord Hart warped nearly everyone’s views on the world. That we were a “greater being.” That we should treat humanity as “nothing but toys and food.” It disgusted me. 

I couldn’t fathom what was going on. I had one adult figure, and it’s that monster who hammered this lie that I am “freer.” I never asked for this “freedom.”

Those same folks who dragged me into their cult didn’t even like me. It was obvious. Everyone there was much paler than I. What was I to do? I only had a few people to rely on and a failed relationship. 

A relationship that made me put off considering fellow vampires. Or even anyone who demands something that I don’t feel okay with.

I feel alien. In the Hart clan. In the Red Reavers. And especially in this human world. I lost my status as a human being when I was converted. I have no place in this world. I am a blight that desperately crawls for the lost light.

My day goes as usual with Mable. She makes me run through some errands. I can’t really force myself to care about the specifics of what she wants. It’s either junk food, sweets, threads, needles, or some miscellaneous things. She always gives me cash for these things.

Today, I found a 10-dollar bill stained with blood with a cut in that exact area. I remember a time when Vice played the knife game for money. He stabbed himself, of course. He placed his cash in his hand.

I don’t have the energy to confront Mable. What would I even say to her? Still, I’m not feeling like buying her another pack of gum. She can use her own money for that.

I walk back to the Note Hotel, catching Mabel. 

“Did you get—?” She tries to ask me.

“No,” I say quietly as I interrupt her. 

I pull out the blood-stained dollar bill. “Can you at least be honest with me?” 

She stands there, motionless in that thin, tall body. Her eyes trail from the cash to me. 

I study her brown eyes. They narrow in a slight frustration. A “Tch” leaves her mouth. She scratches her nose as she looks away. She grits her teeth tightly — teeth that I now notice shark-like in consistency and sharpness.

Both of us stand silently, not breaking the moment. 

Before either of us says anything, we hear a familiar voice — Sudan. 

“What am I going to do with AJ? He was such a sweet boy until last year with those troublemakers.” She’s on the phone, perhaps on a call with a friend.

“I find him sneaking out at night. God knows what he’s really up to so late. The boy doesn’t listen to me anymore,” Sudan continues to vent. 

I try not to seem like I’m eavesdropping. If Mabel is doing what I’m attempting, she’s much better at it than I am. 

Sudan resumes her call. “Jack isn’t around to carry his weight with this. He’s changed, too, I noticed. My boys aren’t communicating with me as much as they used to.”

I shouldn’t concern myself with the human world. It’s not my place. Not anymore. So why do I care about this specific instance? Why is it that I’m drawn to finding a solution to all this? Why do I want this kid to at least listen to his mother?

Glancing over at Mable, her eyes briefly peer over the conversation. Her arms cross when she notices me. 

She speaks as her eyes narrow, “Keep your lips shut, you look like a mouthbreather when you eavesdrop.” 

I cover my mouth. I didn’t even catch that about myself. 

Mable reminds me of Cal in some ways. They’re both cold in their own ways. Ways that would be convenient for them and their actions. They’re also both quick to act and dismiss others. With Cal, I know that he looks out for the crew. Although I see Mable making a few connections, she tends to look out for herself. I wonder when she’ll really open herself up.

I head out, telling Mable I just needed to look for Dr. West. 

She tags along, saying something about stretching her legs. She murmurs, “Either way, I get the feeling I’m being stalked.”

We walk through the streets, the people watching us as usual. There’s nothing to comment on humanity monitoring us. What else is there to say? That we Undead have no place in the world of the living? It’s true. But what else can we do in a world mostly dominated by humanity?

I stop to catch a half dozen children hanging around the corner of an alley. Most of them are between 14 and 16 years old. Older than the kids in… Nevermore. They glance over at me, prompting a majority of those teens to run off. Just one remains, a kid younger than the rest, wearing a hoodie.

It’s the child Sudan was talking about, that DJ kid. His head tilts down as he holds a cigarette.

I call out to him, “DJ! Your mother’s worried about you.” 

His head flicks up with that very white voice, “What? You serious, unc? That’s ain’t my name.” He draws from his stick as fingers shake slightly. 

Mable glances over from me to the child. She snatches the cigarette from the tween. “Ugh, I don’t care about this whole shit. Star is putting his nose in random people’s business.” She munches on the whole stick…  

“Hey! You’re not supposed to eat that!” yells DJ. 

Mable pulls the kid by the foot and shakes him down on the spot. 

I attempt to add my own views to this. “Please listen to your mother. You don’t want to end up with delinquents who will ruin your life.”

A variety of things drop from the kid’s pockets. These include a pack of cigarettes, three sets of wallets, a pocket knife, and a thread of copper wire. 

Mable comments as she continues shaking the poor boy, “Mother, this. Mother, that. I would not listen to anyone if they showed up telling me this ‘listen to your mother’ bullshit.”

The kid gasps for air after being dropped. My tall guide loots several items that were forced out. I don’t know what to do after all that. I tried to help. I don’t know what Mable’s intention was with stealing his stuff. What exactly are we accomplishing here? I’m unsure. Now, I wanna leave. 

I step off, refusing to look back at the child who’s on the ground. 

I march on — Mable following soon after. What am I even doing? The fact that every time I bother, I make things worse. No, I just don’t try hard enough. That’s it. Right? But I don’t have the mental energy to push myself hard enough to be good enough.

I’m awful with kids. I know that, it’s obvious from that time in Nevermore. My bottom lip trembles from the thought of it. Hands shaking. I reach for the sides of my head.

My tall guide snaps at me, “Hey! Hold it together.” 

I try to contain myself.

Mable continues, “Ugh. What the hell is on your mind?!” 

My cold breath seeps through as I exert my energy. I answer as I will myself to speak, “Tendy… I didn’t save that kid.” 

Mable clenches her fist. Her face twists from annoyance to anger as she grits her teeth. Her eyes shift from me to the ground.

 Her anger slips something under her breath. “Don’t fucking remind me, asshole.” 

Her posture stiffens, holding her collar tightly.

We walk forward, regardless of anything.

As we move along, I catch a large mirror leaning against a wall on the sidewalk. I see my clean clothes with my body absent as usual. I haven’t had the privilege of looking at my face since I was 10. Not even modern cameras can capture my reflection. I remember using Maya’s words to get a feel of how I look.

For the little time I catch Mable’s reflection, she’s fuzzy. Her body flickers around. She’s covered in blue static. Either this mirror is cursed, or she’s a ghost.

Before I can ask Mable a question, she slams her fist onto the framed mirror. Shattering it. Her clenched hand draws back with blood dripping from the knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

My tall guide wipes her hand with her shirt before walking off. “I looked ugly.”

Ugly? I can’t disagree that her appearance is unconventional. She stands much taller than most men. Her body is stitched together with varying colors. I can see why she might find those features ‘unappealing.’ It’s a bit of an overreaction. I think I… Never mind. 

I follow her.

After more ‘investigating’, we stumble across a bulletin board in the middle of a plaza. We pass through many people, their eyes catching us as we try to look at the board. 

I ask out loud, “Do you think Dr. Wess is listed?” 

The board lists nothing but bounties. Bounties with varying prices and several monsters are listed. 

Mable answers, “Only if the doctor committed a war crime or something.” 

I scan through the listings. The monsters include a sasquatch, a werewolf, a mothman, and a couple of Necromizeds. I stop at one picture, well, a drawing. 

I stare intensely. The price is much higher than the rest. Those vampiric pointed ears. That devilish but false innocent smile. Her pale skin. Those ebony hair and dyed red highlights.

It’s her. Why is she listed here? This can’t be from when the clan was still around. The artist depicts her as older than I remember. I still can’t get over what she did, that… 

I can’t dwell on that anymore; I should only be concerned with Maya.

I overhear the murmurings of the people, talks of other bounty hunters. 

“That Ego asshole was cornering people into paying him and Hero into a job,” one says.

The people around us are getting comfortable. It’s like we aren’t there. They continue speaking of the hunters in this town.

Then, the stinging starts. The world spins as I feel the air tighten around me. The golden star intensifies, attacking my vision. Mable holds her head. The humans converse as usual. My head feels this sharp pain. The world’s sensations are overwhelming my hearing. I can taste and smell what’s left on my tongue. The smallest things that I have not considered. 

“Van Helsing” echoes through my head. The people move and speak as this single name continues being muttered. This is presence, whoever this Von Helling is… It’s overwhelming my brain.

A cold hand grabs my wrist in this world of intensity. I feel the lines that divide her parts in that grasp. Her grip tightens before pulling me. I let her guide me through the crowd, running with her to stay away from that presence. Somewhere much safer.

I don’t understand what is going on. I just know that I feel much better running with her. Mable. We stop at an alley. Far away from that pressure and everything. She tugs me closer to the shadows, but immediately lets go of me as I get there. Her eyes fixate on the outside. 

I lean against the wall, letting out the fog from my breath. Mable keeps her watch on the outside. The burning of the world lingers in my vision. I have to stay in the shade with her. Why did I feel threatened…? Why did I find comfort in that coldness? What am I doing here? 

We wait there a bit longer. Throughout it all, I have attempted to leave multiple times, only to be stopped by Mable.

At one time, she breaks the silence. She says, “Your eyes are still squinting, Star. I know you’re a vampire, but you’re not supposed to be this blind in the light.” 

I open my mouth, but I stop myself before leaning back against the wall. I stay there, dwelling on my past thoughts. No, I don’t want to linger on anything. I can only have room for finding my love. I can’t be distracted by the present. I can’t be distracted by the awful past that shouldn’t matter.