So, no one thinks to look for them in society. No one expects a vampire to tell them good morning, or perhaps to tug on their ponytail while mocking their family name.
They expect vampires to rip out people’s throats and hiss in the daylight.
I happen to be an expert on vampires. After all, I was raised by one.
I know a vampire when I see one, even if others would be willing to overlook the slight changes to a person’s appearance.
And this year there is something different about Wilder Zubkov. This year, he’s a vampire.
Chapter Two
Wilder
If I had blood still pumping in my veins, I think I would feel it drain from my face as Bronwyn continues to stare at me.
Emotions play across her enchanting hazel eyes. First shock, then realization, then intrigue. Finally, she blinks and turns away. She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, looks like she is about to say something, but instead snaps her mouth shut and scurries off up the stairs.
And leaves me standing there with a sense of dread pooling in my stomach.
She knows.
I don’t know how or even just what, but that girl knows something, and it scares me to no end that she does.
“What was that?” Asimov, one of the people that I have loosely ascribed the title offriend, asks with a laugh. “She looked like she saw a ghost.”
I force a smile as I turn to him, trying my best to mask my panic. Fortunately, I have a lot of practice doing that since it is what I do every time I am around my father. “I have heard that ghosts occasionally roam these halls.”
As of now, Asimov does not know of myalteredstate, and I cannot allow him to catch on. Not until I decide what to do with him.
“Are you referring to the murdered students?” Gregos, another student from a prestigious family who I have been ordered to keep in the good graces of, asks with disdainful snort. “I thought that whole sordid affair was over now that the professor that killed them was stopped.”
“How could the affair just be over? They didn’t come back from the dead, Gregos,” I reply stiffly. “Last I checked, they were still murdered and possibly tormented spirits.”
Maybe they found their way to Skyhold, or maybe they still haunt these halls. I wonder what they think of me being here, would they recognize a fellow member of the undead?
Are they even aware enough to notice?
It’s a sad state of affairs to even be undead, but I think it is even sadder to know that I’m not the only undead creature here. It is quite telling about the state of our world when the deceased are no longer allowed to rest in peace.
There’s a lot of conjecture on just what a vampire is and what even causes this unique state. Some say a curse, some say a blessing, others say it’s a disease. But all agree that a vampire is no longer quite a human.Monster. That is what they call vampires. That is what they would call me if they knew, and would they be necessarily wrong?
No, I think not.
So, while my soul was not ripped away from my body only to have it be resurrected like the common undead, I would say that the term still very much applies. After all, my soul was ripped away from my humanity.
Fortunately for me, vampires are largely misconceived, and up until this very moment, I have managed to move largely undiscovered despite my previous misgivings.
But I suppose that has all changed now because with just one look, Bronwyn figured me out. I’m certain of it, I saw the look in her eyes as she stared into mine.
She knows I’m a vampire. I don’t know how. I don’t know what I did wrong, but now I’m worried that in one day I have foiled all of my father’s plans.
I swallow past my dry throat. I hope that I will grow accustomed to this thirst that can only be quenched by blood. It is nice not necessarily needing to eat or sleep, but I’m not sure if I would consider trading that with a dependence on blood as particularly an upgrade.
I ball my hand into a fist as I turn back to Gregos, painting a smile across my face. “But we are second years now. That no account Eel shouldn’t take up another second of our time.”
I have a more important task to focus my time on.
Gregos folds his arms. “I still think we should incinerate her belongings. That should give her the message that we don’t want common stock in our school.”
