Stained Red

Across the never-ending stretch of streetlight dotted sidewalks, Red wondered aimlessly. His heels loud against the unsettling quiet, a repetitive click that echoed throughout the street. His tail was curled loosely around one of his thighs: an afterthought of comfort under the darkened ceiling of the burrows.

The world blurred around him, a narrow tunnel of walking forward, even as his legs began to ache. He could hear nothing.

Eventually, Red stumbled over the steps of the Church of Sulfur, barely catching himself as he stared up at the building in front of him. He couldn’t remind the last time he found himself here, preferring to keep himself away from the praising of the demons. He understood their importance, but as with everything in life, he just didn’t care enough to pray.

After a few minutes, he pressed himself beyond the double doors, hands shaking as he looked around the empty halls. There, in an almost forgotten corner was what he sought.

The confessional. 

Red opened the thin wooden door and sat down on the bench, grimacing when he found himself surrounded by walls that felt too close. He was about to stand back up, when a smooth voice stopped him.

“It’s late for confession.”

Through the screened wall, Red could make out the faint shape of a succubun in bun form, sitting upon what seemed to be a pillow. After a tense few seconds of silence, he heard a sip and the tap of a hoof against glass. The priest was drinking.

He wanted to laugh but he couldn’t find the humor enough. “Forgive me Father, I don't live a good life.”

The bun paused, almost as if he was considering Red’s words, before he muttered, “Confess.”

Red didn’t know what to say at first, until the words poured from him, “Ever since I got to the damn burrows, my life has been total crap. I got tricked by some shady asshole into working at a shitty bar for dirt cheap and now I’ll fuck any slime that wants me after hours. Because I don’t care! I don’t care what happens to me, but fuck the worst of it all?”

The priest was quiet.

Red continued, almost frantically, “I let a vampire fool me into being turned by him, and then being unturned in some creepy basement. Is that a thing? Do vampires just frequent creepy places?” He pulled at his hair, “Murmur what is wrong with me? How could I let this happen to me? Most of the sex I had at my job wasn’t worth any of that or feeling like this.”

His hands dropped to hug himself, “And yet I miss it, I miss being a vampire. I miss the feeling of not being tired all the time, that I had some amount of power even if I wasn’t always in control of myself. I have nothing Father, nothing and I’ll be stuck at this bar forever.”

Finally the priest spoke, he sounded amused and yet pitying, “You poor thing, so easily misled.” He raised a hoof, gesturing, “Do open the screen between us.”

Red wondered, with a heavy heart, if the priest also thought his life was one big joke, but still he listened and opened the screen.

A white bun was sprawled over a velvet pillow, twirling a glass of red liquid as his veil obscured half of his face. He looked up at Red, “You seek more than you have, a different life to replace the one that disappoints you now?”

Red wanted to be offended, his ego bruised, but he couldn’t argue against what he thought was the truth, “Yes more than anything.”

The priest was silent for a while, until he hummed, “Such a pretty creature you are, maybe you would be enough to rid me of this boredom? The booth has been so cold today…” His sharp eyes looked up at Red, his voice a condescending purr, “Tell me your name.”

Red hesitated, before he quickly mumbled, “Tell me yours first.”

The bun laughed at that, it was cute to see someone so powerless trying for any measure of control, “I am Islwyn.” He tilted his head, grinning wide enough to show off his fangs. “Go on then, tell me your name.”

“Red.”

Islwyn was quiet for a few moments, until he laughed again, the sound was a little too mocking for Red’s taste. “Like the color? Your demon caretaker must have been something, to name you so obviously.”

Red felt flustered, he didn’t understand what the other bun’s game was, but he was starting to feel uncomfortable. “I don’t mind my name.”

“Of course you don’t, it’s your name,” Islwyn answered, looking down at his glass before he took another sip, “Well my dear little Red, you want more. So much more than you’re getting, more than you think you deserve.”

Red frowned, crossing his arms, “I don’t think a member of the Church is supposed to make fun of me. I know I fucked up.”

Islwyn raised one of his hooves, “You’re misunderstanding me, my little avia, I want to offer you the chance to have more.”

Red faltered, “What?”

“Did you think that miserable Lord Lagoshi was the only vampire in the burrows? He wasn’t even the most impressive among us.” Islwyn teased gently, “Don’t you want to feel powerful again? The only thing I ask is to be my companion. I grow bored and lonely often, being vampiric isn’t exactly an overly social lifestyle.”

Red froze, a chill settling in his chest, “You’re a vampire.”

Islwyn shrugged carelessly, “You finally noticed, maybe you are a little smart.”

The pair stared at each other until Red shook his head firmly, “Why… didn’t you just hear what I said? I’m just some dumbass that works at a bar, what could make you want me as a friend? Or whatever you want?” He was trying to talk so he wouldn’t be afraid, so he could act like he had more courage than he did. “Are vampires really that desperate-”

“Excuse me?” Islwyn gave Red a look that quickly shut him up, “I choose what and whomever I want, I don’t need you to judge me, nor do I think you have much room to do so… however I suppose I can humor you with an answer. This pitiful act of yours is faked for your own comfort, I can see it in your eyes, you’re not a very nice person. Takes one to know one, I suppose.” He laughed, “Wouldn’t you prefer to be who you used to be? When you had confidence and the strength to back up that cocky little ego? The better half of your potential... who you deserve to be.”

Red was quiet for a long time, until he snapped, “Of course I fucking do! I’m tired of being a loser, surrounded by all the other fucking losers in that bar.”

Islwyn sat up, his eyes bright, “Then join me, dear Red. I can make you what you were once more, I can change everything. You’ll only ever have to be my companion once all is said and done.”

Red knew he had a habit for making mistakes and was certain he couldn’t make a good choice if he tried, but this may be his only chance. What else did he have to lose in a life as loathsome as his? 

“Now?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

“Not in the Church, some of the priests have a… discomfort around vampires. I’ll come to collect you when it’s time.” Islwyn seemed confident, as if he assumed Red would agree even without entirely hearing him out. It was the kind of confidence that Red alwyas wished he had, that pride that suggested Islwyn always got what he wanted in the end.

With a deep breath, Red bowed his head.

“Okay.”