Into Death, Afterlife

When someone has been thrust into many a terrible situation of their own making, they may find themselves justifying each poor choice they’ve made. Each cause and effect, each consequence that bleed into more irresponsibility: their misplaced innocence.

For Red, he claimed he had no choice at all. No matter what he has done or welcomed to be done, he would never accept having a part to play in his own misfortune. Even as he laid on his worn mattress, his eyes swimming as black encroached on his vision.

It was almost a comfort being home, instead of bleeding out in the back room of a dirty bar. Even the pain seemed miles away, floating as he wasted his few last minutes thinking: waiting for his body to stop. There was something pretty about his mind losing itself, every color seemed so much brighter.

His creator, Islwyn, had been kinder than Lord Legoshi when he bit him and in a way, Red was grateful he hadn’t tried to seduce him into being a vampire like the vampire lord had. Instead, the white bun had given him an objective choice and when accepted, had drained Red of his blood in his own home, on his own bed, letting the greed bun get used to the pain that would take his life.

He even dripped his own blood from one of his hooves, encouraging as Red drank vampiric blood. Each part of it felt like welcoming, like some secret the pair could share together in the face of those that would never be offered this moment.

And yet, Red was still sore that he had been laid on his bed and left once the deed was done, leaving him to sleep alone with the taste of vampire blood on his lips. Couldn’t Islwyn have waited until he passed to leave? Red swore he would complain when he saw the other again, would stomp his foot and demand answers to questions he was sure Islwyn would think was amusing.

“Bastard, I don’t want to be alone,” his voice was weak, barely an intelligible mumble.

Still, a larger part of him just wanted to see the other again, he wanted Islwyn to be the one to teach him everything about being a vampire and how to stand tall in a world that had always made him feel weak. It was almost too easy to shut his eyes with such lofty thoughts in mind and finally leave the world of the living, his mind consumed only by Islwyn.

His house had never been so silent, peaceful as the days waited for him to open his eyes reborn. His skin slowly chilling from the air, soft and cold as even his blankets lost their heat.

Red would never be disturbed here, not in an imp invested apartment building that barely stood upright on cheap wooden posts. The entire place was one bad storm away from caving in onto itself. Not even his neighbors would never bother, especially if they never see him again. They would never question it. If someone disappeared here, then it was for the best of everyone that nobody saw anything.

For three days, he slept, until in the middle of night with the lights of the nightclub across the street flashing through his windows, his eyes opened to the rotten ceiling of his shitty apartment. The lingering mold spotted over the water leak he told his landlord about months ago.

The first thing he registered for an ache in his stomach, something gnawing at his insides as he struggled to turn on his bedside lamp. He felt disoriented, confused, his hands twitching as he stood up from his bed.

It took him a few panicked minutes of blankly staring at a wall, until he looked down at his side table and noticed a note. It read: Call me when you wake up -I. A neatly written number was printed just under the words.

Red patted his pockets, until he realized his phone was plugged in on its charger. He faintly remembered Islwyn instructing him to keep his phone charged, to avoid any unfortunate incidents if his baby vampire was lost on the streets. Red was fairly certain that was code for not draining the first stranger he saw because he was hungry.

He picked up his phone, pulling away the cord as he pressed in the number. He felt a strange tension in his hands, almost as if he could jab his fingers through his phone screen. The thought was making him dizzy.

Red took an unneeded breath as he listened to the phone ring, what if Islwyn didn’t answer? What if this had been another mistake in a long list and he had been abandoned with no true way of protecting himself from his new instincts? He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Just then the phone picked up, “Is that you, my little avia?”

And just like that, pure relief poured into Red’s chest. He was certain he was talking too fast, the excitement mixing with his complaints, “Islwyn, where are you? My stomach hurts.”

The vampiric bun laughed in his slow, overly amused way, “I’ll come get you.”

Before Red could say anything else, the line cut out. He pouted, sitting down on his bed. “But how long is that gonna be?!” He knew he shouldn’t complain but he had so much more life to live, or rather an afterlife to live. He could have to ask Islwyn the terminology once he saw the other bun again.

Red didn’t know what his new life would bring, but he wanted to be the new version of himself that Islwyn promised. He didn’t want to cower even lower than the shadows anymore and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days in some ugly bar because he got tricked.

This was a new chance, a choice that he made for himself, and he won’t stop until he gets everything he deserves.