Path of the Vampire forum

<Axel Rosen> This time, Axel has called before, knowing that his 'current' local artist will be in today. He opens the door and looks around, not at first seeing the man, but opens his mouth. "Jesse, are you down stairs?" He looks around the checker floored room with the red counter tops. His ink has grown a bit since he's been here, and he's come in today to get a inner-lip tattoo done. One that will say, 'Devour the Sun', right on the inside of his lip.


* Jesse Fforde || It's not so often that I get bookings anymore. There are a few loyal customers who continue to call, who continue to make the effort to call ahead rather than walk in, like they normally would have done. Truth is, I've got a hell of a lot of other **** going on in my life lately, and the business is suffering for it. But whatever. Tonight I have Axel coming - Axel, who I've gotten to know a little more since the first appointment. I know that he's a writer, and I know that he knows about vampires. That's something that I found out at our last appointment, and I've had time to think since then. The idea percolated in my brain, until reaching fruition. I come down the stairs as I hear the bell over the shop door, and Axel's voice calling out. There's a grin on my face as I enter the parlour proper. I don't bother with too many of the preliminaries - Axel's been here enough, now, that he should know what to do.


<Axel Rosen> The man moves across the checkered floor to the red counter top and places an paper on it's surface. It's simple, girly swirly font that seems more ironic than anything given what it says. It's just words, something simple, but he likes it and it's not like anyone can really see it inside his bottom lip. "I'd like to get this, Jesse, right", he pulls his lip down so that his gums are being shown, then lets it go, "inside the lip." He nods his head once, to say that is what he would like to have done. He doesn't bother pulling out a pen or id, because he's been here a few times and hasn't done it since the first. "Think it's manageable tonight?"


* Jesse Fforde || Inside lip jobs are always a little bit off. They're rare - but like any artist, I relish the thought of indulging in the rarities. I know I can do this job as well as I could do any other. I've done one or two before, and it's a messy process. I could go about telling Axel that the tattoo might not hold. I have plans - and I assume that the tattoo will hold, once I'm done. The only difference, this time, is that I don't have to transfer the tattoo to the skin. It won't hold on the inner lip, so I have to draw by free hand. I take the piece of paper given to me, and gesture to the chair. After which, I go about preparing.


<Axel Rosen> Moving to where he is motioned to sit, and he knows it well. The reclining chair behind the counter. He moves and gets comfortable. His eyes look up at the ceiling for a moment, waiting to see what is in store for him. He knows that the tattoo might hurt, being that it's in his mouth, but then again it might not hurt incredibly bad. He's never really had one on that soft of tissue before. The one that he came in for a few weeks ago was the most tender spot he's gotten done. The nearly fresh over lapped summoning circles on his left side. They loop around one another, each one a different demon. First circle, at the top of the triangle like shape is in summoning of 'Legion' a group of consorted demons mentioned in the New Testament of the bible. The second, at the lower right of the tattoo is a circle in dedication to Furtur, a demon mentioned in a witch hunting book, as a historical testament to it's time. And the final circle in the triangle is to Leviathan.


* Jesse Fforde || I ready the ink and the gun with ease, as if I'm sleepwalking. I've done it so many times before I could do it without thinking. I pull the gloves on, and bring the whole roll of paper tissue with me. This guy's going to drool a lot, and he might appreciate the opportunity to clean it up. I perch on the stool beside the chair, pulling the lever underneath so that I'm sitting a little higher. I hold the gun at the ready, perking a brow to make sure that Axel is ready.


<Axel Rosen> Poking out his bottom lip he holds it down, and will do so until either Jesse tell's him not to, or he has to ask for the man to hold it instead. With his bottom lip down, now almost against his chin, he closes his eyes and waits of the buzz of the gun and the sweet rush of pain. The chemicals his brain will release to subdue it will follow shortly, he knows this, and that will be the moment where bliss washes over and all his body goes numb. He has, probably, at some point already told Jesse this. He knows that he's told the man at least once of how he's bought a ritual altar from a local shop, and been dabbling in the occult. Vampires, who would have thought, he only really knows of one, and she's a bit busy most of the time. He can never seem to get an interview in, then again, he's almost sure that the race of beings aren't into being interviewed. He thinks about it a bit more, that book by Anne Rice.


* Jesse Fforde || Before I begin properly, I pin the design up to the headrest so that I can look at it often whilst tattooing. The gun begins to whir, and I move Axel's fingers out of the way as I hold his lip down with one hand, and apply the needle with the other. I've left the roll of tissue paper in Axel's lap so that he can start to clean up the drool, as soon as it starts weeping.


<Axel Rosen> Almost instantly, the drool starts coming down from his mouth. He's starting to reconsider the tattoo now that he feels like slobbering animal; however, it's too late to turn back now. He's already got ink in his lip and he might as well go through with the rest of it. He rips a paper towel off the roll and presses it to his chin and the corner of his mouth. He does this slowly as to not interrupt the work of Jesse. He makes little movements, not trying to budge at all when he does. He would talk, say something, as he usually does. He hasn't ever tried to have a conversation, just bits and pieces here and there, little things while the man works. Things that don't really need a reply.

But he can't. He can't say anything this time. He could, but it would sound like whimpering or grunting. Just vowels really as he would open his mouth. It sounds like it'd be fun to write about a character having an experience like this. Maybe not a tattoo, but rather a torture device involving the lips and jaw. He goes on thinking, not able to talk, unable to move, lest his tattoo be messed up and it'd be his own fault.


* Jesse Fforde || As enthusiastic as I am about my plan, I don't think on it at all while I work. All tattoos are the same - they're a piece of art, and I am the artist. And I am a perfectionist - and so I focus. I don't let my thoughts wander, lest I miss a letter and spell a word wrong, or something equally as ludicrous. When I'm done, I don't release my hold on Axel's lip - I use the same tissue paper that I've left on his lap to clear away the last vestiges of ink and drool. I put aside all my tools, then; I roll the tray away, to keep it out of harm's way. Knowing that we are behind the counter and that we can't be seen, I know it's time to proceed with my plan. This human knows too much. It's a break of the masquerade - I will find out who it is who told him, and perhaps they can be punished, too. But for now, Axel has to die. I smirk as I recall that first conversation I had with Phoenix - he has to die. Or he has to die. I've decided on the latter. I know Axel well enough to think he is worthy.

Without further ado, and before Axel has a chance to move, I swoop in. With preternatural speed I tear into the human's neck, breaking the vein and allowing his hot blood to fill my mouth; I swallow, greedily, hastily. And I hold him down, should he choose to struggle.


<Axel Rosen> A blur of movement, in his pain and pleasure filled daze. Tattoos do this too him, and it's all one quick fluid motion to him. At first it doesn't even register to him what's going on. His eyes are closed still, so he didn't see who had swooped in and stabbed in him in the throat. His only thought is that this is the tide coming to take him out into eternity of lifelessness. He would have struggled if it weren't for the fact that he's being held down, he thinks that the force of his own body is holding him down. He thinks that the blood loss has gotten to him and that he can no longer hold himself up. Those are all thoughts, and they're wrong, which he finds out when shock sets in. Blood loss, the body going cold as he feels life ebbing away from him. He feels like there is a sonnet by Shakespeare about something of this nature: death. His eyes open and the ceiling that he saw so clearly above him a few moments ago is just a fuzzy blur. He knows its there, or is it? He's not entirely sure anymore. He gurgles out a choked up, "A'least... don'... ha'e... write... that... nov..." His words are stunted by the fact that he's dying, bleeding out, unknowingly into the mouth of his tattoo artist.

* Jesse Fforde || I'm not really paying attention to anything that Axel's saying, if anything. There's not much he can say to convince me of anything, because my mind is already made up. When I feel that the time is right, I stop taking blood. Clinically, almost, I stand - the wound I've made is not so bad, and it starts to heal over. Not that it matters. For a second I stand there, wondering whether I should just leave him and let him die. Instead, I continue with the plan - I tear into my wrist and hold it over Axel's mouth - this time when I take hold of his lips it's to force them open. It's tempting to rub at his neck to make him swallow, like you would to a dog or a cat when trying to make them swallow a pill.


<Axel Rosen> He struggles against the motions given to him, as best he can in the state that he's in. The effort to struggle isn't done very well. He may feel like he's move and shook his head, but really all he's done is strained muscles and made himself hurt, causing his heart to beat a lack of blood, which in turn creates a pain in his chest. Finally, a small pool of blood in his mouth, slides down his throat, swallowing it. He isn't sure what he's swallowed and it tastes like copper. Seems his assailant, who will probably kill Jesse next, has a calling card.


* Jesse Fforde || Axel swallows, and I forced him to swallow some more. I force him to keep drinking until he's got enough - until the blood starts to have an affect on his body. There'll be pain involved, that much I know. All his human organs will die, replaced by whatever magic it is that keep us vampires alive. He might pass out, only to wake up the next night. I've only done this once before, and I wonder if it's different each time. This is as much an experimentation for me as it is a necessity.


<Axel Rosen> All struggle stops, all senses fail, and he goes limp, thoughts have ceased to move within his brain, darkness sets in. Some say that when someone dies there is a light, Axel has seen no such light, just darkness, the faint sound of his heart stopping inside of his chest as he hears it in his ears. That blood, moving through his esophagus drop and spreads within his stomach, from there he's not sure what happens. The brown haired man just knows that he felt whatever he swallowed hit his stomach, almost is if it were a last memory. After the darkness of death, something brings him back. It's a pain in his gut, twisting his insides into a mess of organs. Or that's how he feels. He struggles to latch unto the chair, clawing at it, as the each organ systematically fails. First to go is the digestive system, and Axel is lost in pain. He can't even think about the reasons why this would be happening. He was, as he sees it, dead a few moments ago, never to return. Next to go is the respiratory system, as all the air seems to be knocked out of him and he tries to breath. He takes air in, but doesn't feel like he's getting any. Not only does he not feel like he's breathing, but that it's not doing him any good either toward death or life. This pain is worse than his first death, he wishes he would just die again. Next to go is the circulatory system, his heart, finally stops. His heart has been battling against the death for some time now, and it is being choked out rather than giving up. It was steady, slow, but steady, then all of a sudden it just stops. This pain causes the man to sit up, against his own volition, nearly standing up from the pain that he is in. He tries to groan, but the sound is mutilated and broken by pain. Finally the nervous system dies, his body goes limp then spasms on the chair. It looks almost as if Axel has gone into epileptic shock there. He convulses, legs twitch and kick upward about two inches. Finally he is still, tired, broken, but still. He doesn't dare open his eyes. He's not sure where he is. The fact that he openly tries to consort with demons and being of the occult doesn't make him feel any more secure about what the outcome of opening his eyes might be.


* Jesse Fforde || The wound on my wrist heals, and Axel's body begins to convulse. I take hold of the cart and wheel it back to the corner desk. While Axel literally dies behind me, I clean up; I take off the gloves, I toss away all the rubbish, I clean up all the ink and the needles, and disinfect everything that needs disinfecting. Every now and again I glance toward Axel - this all seems quite normal to me. I even have time to wander over to the notepad, to write a note. "You are now a vampire. Welcome to immortality." I even add a little smiley face. When Axel goes still, I slide the piece of paper into his line of vision; I sit on my haunches nearby, waiting for him to open his eyes.


<Axel Rosen> Slowly but surely the man opens his eyes and sees the piece of paper before him. His eyes read over the words and take in the image of that smiley face between the lines of the paper. He reads over it again, trying to take it in, and then looking at that blasted smiley face again. His steel blue eyes don't even register Jesse is near him. Scanning over the paper, he reads the words again. This time he stops to focus on the words: 'Vampire' and 'immortality'. Then they scan over to the smiley face again and the smiley face is starting to get under his skin. He starts to sit up, knowing at this point that Jesse has written this, either that or his creator has a sick way of making people vampires and leaving them behind with a little note. The hand writing is definitely Jesse's as Axel wakes up enough to realize it. The hunger in his stomach is like death all over again. Had he the ability, he would set fire to the whole note pad in his hand or banish it to the wilderness. Tossing it to the side, anger starting to set in. The anger isn't really at Jesse or anyone for that matter. The anger if fueled by confusion and a feeling of betrayal that the man hadn't told him he was a vampire. That smiley face on the paper, looking up at him, he steps up it, twisting his heal, being sure to rip the paper.


* Jesse Fforde || When Axel stands - slowly but surely he does - he seems a bit pissed off. I stand, too, holding my hands up in front of me, though I can't seem to keep the smile from my face. I force it away and retrieve the notepad. I write: "Now now. Don't be like that. You'll see. This is better than anything you've known before." I swing the pad back in Axel's direction.


<Axel Rosen> The paper shown to him now, he looks at it, reads it. Word for word, letting his guard down. About half way through the last sentence, he shakes his head, realizing that in the time it took him to read that, this vampire could have ripped him in half. He's not sure if Jesse would rip him in half after making him a vampire, kind of defeats the purpose of doing so, does it not? His mouth opens and for the first time, his words are not as kind and polite as usual, "The **** man?!" His eyes are narrowed, and his hand is about to reach for the note pad, wishing to silence his assailant the best way he knows how.


* Jesse Fforde || I shrug my shoulders and watch axel carefully. He knows that I can't talk. That I can't explain this to him normally - and do I even want to explain? I suppose it's what he deserves. I don't respect a lot of people, but I seem to respect Axel. I suppose I must, given that he's here and still alive. This is easiest done on the bench, and so I wander over to the front counter. I write again: "You knew too much. It was either this or death."


<Axel Rosen> He allows the information to wash through his mind a few times. It never even registered to him that Jesse's reaction to him knowing about vampires seemed a little unnatural at the time. Looking back now, it does in retrospect. His eyes close, thinking over what death would mean. "So... why not death?" He doesn't ask with an attitude, but is still being rather stand-offish. He doesn't look the man in the eyes, just watches for movement from the corner of his eyes.

How do I explain it to the guy? I suppose honesty has always been something I admire. Whenever I have the need to communicate—there’s a lot of the time that people don’t even try, or don’t think that I’d like to—I do so with blunt honesty. I’ve taken that tack thus far, have I not? Straight up—you’re a vampire. Of course it would be too much to ask for Axel to just deal with it. To brush it off like it’s a only a minor incident in the course of his life. Which, in my opinion, will now be infinitely better than what it was. I take my time to answer him. I stand with the pen poised over the notepad. Why not death? I lick my lips—a human habit that hasn’t yet disappeared—and lean forward. The stroke of the pen is deliberate, even slow. As if I want the very shape of the letters to portray the gravity of the words I intend to impart.

”You’re too good for death.”

It’s as simple as that. Do I really need to explain any further? I’m not the grovelling type, and I won’t ask for forgiveness in this. Surely, sooner or later—even if it takes one hundred years—Axel will have to thank me. I’ve given him a gift. He could have died. Could have had his flame blown out, only to become drifting smoke that does not last. But now he will live forever. Or for as long as vampire-kind survive (we were wiped out before, and it could happen again).

Maybe I’m a bit full of myself when I say that I think I can read people. It’s an instinctual knowing; and in the weeks that I’ve got to know Axel, even if only in hourly spurts, I’ve come to recognise a specific spark. I respect him, for all that it’s worth. And I think that he will come to love this life, just as I have. Maybe I’m wrong. I’ve made mistakes before. But maybe I’m right. And that’s what makes this moment so profound—it is in this moment that he will decide to loathe me, or to accept me. And I wait in expectation.

There’s something Axel likes about the way he communicates with the man, it’s a side thought but it’s still one. The fact that because the words are on paper, he can analyze them over and over until they make sense to him, rather than waiting to be interrupted by another vomit of words from the other’s mouth. Luckily, Jesse can’t do that. He can’t stop Axel’s thinking process. His train of thought, after having a stop at ‘what-I-like’ station, now makes it’s way back to the now. The fact that the paper says that he’s too good for death. At first it confuses him and he stares at the man with a dumbfounded look on his face. It has to be a lie, he tells himself, there’s no other explanation, just sugar coating the fact that he is dead. That’s the irrefutable fact, as he places his index and middle finger to his throat and checks his pulse. Yeah, dead is the only word to describe this. Except maybe the word: Undead, which would be a pretty accurate description now that he’s thinking about it more.

If he is undead, than that means a number of things, all of which are just myth, folklore and fantasy. None of these things really make him feel any better about the situation at all. Fingertips move into his pockets and then he smiles a little, after turning his back to the man before him. Once he turns around his face is back it’s seemingly angry expression. “You realize that I have I have more questions that you can probably answer on the piece of paper, yes?” He points to the pin with a grin, showing that he somewhat accepts the man, but doesn’t so much trust him quite yet. He trusts ‘human’ Jesse, so maybe getting to know and trust ‘vampire’ Jesse might not be so hard. His arms cross over the counter top and look into the mans eyes. “Guess I’ll start with the first one? Sunlight?”

When his mouth opens, it almost spits out the word ‘paladin’, but thankfully he pushed the word ‘sunlight’ out instead. He’s not sure why he’s so worried about what Jesse might say about Paladins. He knows that they hunt vampires. Axel also knows that the vampires sometimes attack the paladins in turn. He’s not sure who threw the first punch, but he’s sure that is’ been going on for a while now. Waiting eagerly, he looks at Jesse, waiting for paper to have words written upon it. He’s sure that the words will be the same thing he’s thinking. Jesse will write, without a doubt in Axel’s mind: Sunlight = bad. “Nevermind that question, I’m sorry. It was a dumb question. Instead tell me about... any rules.” In most folklore, vampires are a kind of lawful organization, obeying a hierarchy.

Of course there are questions. I’m surprised, quite, how alacritous Axel is in his acceptance. His fury is an expected thing. Something I am quite willing to navigate with the stubborn surety that the man will soon come to like this new existence. And I am nothing if not patient. I can wait for him to come to the slow realisation that he’s not dead. Not really. Not in the way that it matters. That his body is just a vessel, and now it has been upgraded. It takes me by surprise how quickly it is before Axel smiles. How quickly he gets to the point. What the rules are.

Even though Axel has told me to forget about it, I answer the first question anyway—just to be sure he hasn’t come to the wrong conclusion. I write:

”Sunlight is bad. Become crispy-fried canvas if you walk into it.”

I stop. There are rules, yes. Not a lot of them, really. I narrow my eyes in thought, staring at the page as I get the rules straight in my head. I wonder whether I should actually write a little pamphlet. Print it out and make it all nice for any new fledgling I happen to fancy bringing into this life. It would be better than writing it out every single goddamn time, right? Then just hand it to them, tell them to read if they want to know everything and anything there is to know. There’s a vast found of knowledge in my head, and I don’t particularly know where to start.

But the rules. Yes. The rules are a good place to start, and the rest of it will follow in a natural progression; though I don’t plan on standing here writing it all down. The best way to teach is by example, and my practice. But yes—first, the ground rules:

”First and foremost – don’t be seen.

There’s a thing we protect called ‘The Masquerade’. It dictates that humans know nothing about vampires. If you break the Masquerade, you’ll accrue a bounty. And you will die. I’ll kill you myself, if you get a bounty.

To avoid getting a bounty – don’t feed where others can see you. Don’t leave any evidence behind. Don’t kill cops or guards. Don’t use powers in public.

Yes, you will have powers. I don’t know what, yet. We’ll figure that out.

Those are the basics. Welcome to Altaire.”

I smirk, and swing the notebook around for Axel to read.

The paper is presented to him, and it has a long list of information that he has to go over. It’s not incredibly long, but it still has a substantial amount, given the size of the **** itself. His eyes, gray-blue and piercing, gaze over the words. Seems that Jesse has answered his first question anyway. Axel has to give it to the other vampire (this thought makes causes him to question his sanity), he’s thorough. The words that scatter the page are really a bunch of answers that lead to more questions. He takes a breath, it’s a habit that he’s going to have to get used to, this not needing to breathe thing. The word ‘bounty’ confuses him a bit. He’s not sure who puts bounties out. He wonders if there is some sort of law enforcement agency that puts out hits on people. Also the fact that Jesse thinks that he would kill a cop or a guard. Not that Axel is super all about law and rules, but he can see the need for them. Chaos is not something that he likes to willingly fall into, aside from his work area where he writes. If he were to think about how to organize that, it would make his brain bleed through his nose. Finally at the end of the page the word ‘Altaire’, that’s new to him and he doesn’t really recognize it as a word from a dictionary with a use as a verb or noun.

After the paper has been examined by Axel once or twice, his eyes move over to Jesse again. The man doesn’t know where to start with the next things that he wants to ask. Should he ask about Paladins, about Blood Thieves? There are a few things that he has learned while dating a paladin in his human life. If it was his human life and now he was no longer a human, what does that mean for the other part of him. That should be a question he asks as well. There are several things that he needs to ask. Finally he rips the page off and puts it in his wallet. He would like to keep it for future reading should he ever forget. It’s not hard to follow rules that are written on paper and you can pull out and look at on a whim and need. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone other than me read the paper.” Handing the writing paper back over, Axel looks at the man, “So. Bounty? Altaire?” The man would push forward, ask something about Blood Thieves or the other group of humans that hunt vampires for whatever reason they decide.

Powers, that’s an interesting concept to him. He can’t imagine what powers would be like or what having them would be like. Wondering if he could use them for something like calling down lightning or if they were just the basic vampire powers of folklore. The basics being: the ability to move faster than human perception, being able to lure humans, not casting shadows, mirrors, etc. If that’s the case, then that’s a little lame. However, at the same time, being a vampire is a big deal from the start, powers or not. So much knowledge can come from centuries of reading. The possibilities are tremendous and he just can’t seem to wrap his mind around it. It might take a month or so, maybe even a year to finally be okay with thinking in terms of forever. Right now it’s just a word without a real meaning, something kids say when they want to feel that puppy-love. The thoughts go on to what Jesse says, that they’ll get to it when he gets his powers, and he nods his head. He’ll just have to wait.

I like watching people at the best of times. And this is one of those times—it’s not often you get to tell someone they’re a vampire, and that they’ll be capable of so much more, now that they’re ‘undead’. I don’t turn my attention away from Axel as he reads. And then as he reads again. He takes a very long time to absorb everything that I write, and I suppose this is a good thing. He’s not going to be frivolous with the information that I give him. He’s not going to forget it. It’s like repeating someone’s name several times in your head when you meet them, so that you don’t forget it. That’s what it looks like Axel is doing. Either that, or he doesn’t understand—like reading a question on your tax return several times over because it’s so jargon heavy that you don’t understand it.

He tears the page out and keeps it. I think I’d prefer that it be burnt. But the guy is an author – someone finds that piece of paper, someone who doesn’t know anything about vampires, they’ll think it’s all just bunk. Something conjured from Axel’s imagination. Still, I’m wary when I write next, responding to the single word questions that Axel promptly asks.

”Bounty. A severe amount of money acquired when you are seen doing anything out of the ordinary. Over $1000, and you’ll have bounty hunters after you. I’m one of them. We’re called Tytonidae.

Crownet—used by vampires and for vampirekind—is where bounties are stored. Pretty sure that has something to do with how and who keeps them. Also—the human authorities. They see you, they identify you. They will shoot you on sight. Stick to the law, and you’ll be fine.

Altaire—the name of the ‘bloodline’ you now belong to. Head of the line is Phoenix. She was the one who turned me. She has turned a few others, who have turned others themselves. You are my second. Collectively, we are Altaire. We are loyal to each other. We support each other. Do anything to bring danger to Altaire…

I’ll kill you myself.”

I feel like I’m writing an essay. I don’t know when the last time was, that I wrote so much. I’m not a chatty guy. I don’t indulge in overly long conversations. Especially seeing as my half has to be written down. It’s tedious. I know this. Everyone else does. They usually refrain from talking to me too much. And when they do, I don’t indulge. But this is important, and so I will write as much as I ought to.

I grin as I turn the pad in Axel’s direction. I wonder when he’ll get enough of my threatening him. But I also believe he will be welcomed with open arms—and that he’ll love the rest of Altaire as much as I do. I grin, because I’m only half kidding.

His hands quickly move out and cup the paper in a right angle on either side of the corners and look down the page. This time it doesn’t take him long to understand the first line. A bounty is a concept that he has written about before and it doesn’t bother him at all that it kind of exists; however, he’s not sure why he feels kind of impressed that the man who has turned him into a vampire hunts and kills those on the list. That feeling of being impressed is shortly countered by one of fear, as his eyes, skipping the the fluff between the first and last bit of information, seeing ‘I kill you myself’. This is the only thing that the man seems to look over again and again. It’s not that he doesn’t understand it so much that he doesn’t really want to understand it. Then again, he’s not sure how he could bring danger to Altaire, after his eyes go up to re-read what Altaire is. Then he comes to a realization. He drops his face down so that it’s almost against the paper, hoping that his actions would hide his face from the man before him. He does this because the realization is that Jessica, a paladin and hunter of vampires could be a danger to Altaire. He starts to doubt what the paladin woman has told him in the past couple months. Lifting his head he puts on a slight mask so that his doubt and worry don’t show. Finally he turns the paper back and doesn’t keep this paper this time.

Axel, now a vampire, feels that he has all the knowledge to the questions he can fathom to ask. There are several other questions in his mind, though none of them are really important. The questions are more things about his powers. Jesse has already stated that his powers won’t come to the topic of conversation until the come to fruition. So, instead of asking about those he just looks at the man. His mouth opens and he asks the only question left to ask, “So why do I feel so hungry, and where can I get... blood?” He looks at the man, already thinking that he knows where a few homeless men live. The fact that his mind goes to that place so quickly worries him, almost scares him that he can already think about where lone humans sleep under newspapers. Still, if there are rules of secrecy that would be the best way to do it, to hunt where the homeless hang out in the abandoned buildings.

While the man waits for an answer from the man before him, his creator. He’s not sure what vocab is, yet, for a vampire that has turned you into one. Those questions would too be answered in time; however, he could learn that from vampires that can speak. Vocabulary can be learned from word of mouth and how to act can come from paying close attention to the man who has turned him. That is probably the best way to learn the smaller details, so that he doesn’t harass Jesse into writing tons of words on notebooks of paper until his room is full of more notebooks that seem to be full of pointless drivel. Only in actually the notebooks from Jesse would be tomes of truth to base his new vampiric life off of. However, Axel also feels that keeping those papers would be some sort of violation of the secrecy of vampires. That is, if they were found.

There’s something a little off about Axel in that moment. Something about the way he reads what I’ve written; a certain sentence that’s snagged him, like a piece of barbed wire. There’s no heartbeat anymore, though. No way that I can see—just by looking at the guy, or watching the way the blood reacts under his skin—just what he’s thinking. Sure, I can make my assumptions based on eye movement and body language, but there’s something about the way the blood pumps that helps discern how a person’s feeling. It’s harder to read vampires than it is to read humans.

I shrug it off. The guy’s probably still coming to terms with the fact that he’s now a vampire. At least he already believed in us; at least there’s none of that incredulity. I don’t have to prove to him what he’s become. He already knows, and believes, and so we are able to launch directly into the fun stuff. What I believe to be the fun stuff, anyway. There are any number of things that I’ve written down that might prove hazardous to Axel; any number of things that have him snagged, that his mind has to work through. So I just let him ponder.

I don’t bother writing any answers to the next set of questions. Instead, I grin and slap my hands together, rubbing them with apparent glee. Why is he so hungry? Well that should be obvious. Technically, he’s just died. He’s now like a new toy, devoid of batteries. He needs to fill up on blood before he can continue on without that demanding blood lust. I recall when I was first turned, the burning, itching feeling that would not abate until I had had my fill. I know exactly how Axel is feeling, and exactly how to cure it.

I tear out the page of the notepad, tear it up, and throw it in the bin beneath the counter. I then wander over to the front door, and pull all the locks. Out of my pocket I retrieve a set of keys, which I use to lock the door. In retrospect, I probably should have done this before, in case I’d got a walk in, disturbing me whilst in the process of turning Axel. Luckily, we’d had none of those. If we had, I’d have had to kill them—and that wouldn’t have been so good for business.

As I wander back through to the back of the shop, I **** my head, indicating that Axel should follow me. I flick off the front-of-house lights as I pass the power switch, and lead Axel toward the back door. Once we’re both out, I pull the back door closed behind me; it has three deadbolts, which I proceed to methodically lock, one after the other.

Once outside, I ponder where to take Axel. The homeless don’t even occur to me; they taste like ****, with their anaemic, unhealthy blood. No, instead I head toward one of the nearby bars. From there, we can wait for our prey to come to us. We can lure them into a dark corner, somewhere. I like to hunt for my prey in crowded places; I like the thrill of it. For the purposes of teaching a new vampire how to feed, however, I figure it’s not such a great idea.

Watching Jesse as he moves around the tattoo parlor, he sees that his creator wants him to follow him. He’s reluctant at first, but he gets the feeling that this is going to be a way to answer his question. He feels this way because that’s been the pattern so far after him being turned into a vampire: Axel asks a question, Jesse answers it. That has been, so far, the natural progression of things, so why wouldn’t this follow that trend. So, when Jesse indicates that the man wants him to follow him, Axel follows behind. Through the door of the parlour he looks around the city for the first time as a vampire. Senses wise, he doesn’t seem to think that he sees anything that much more differently than he has before in his human life. At the same time, if he were to have a change in the way that he sees the world, isn’t sight something that humans take for granted from time to time? So it wouldn’t be abnormal for him to not really be able to tell if he sees things different from what he has in the past or not. One thing he has noticed, light is much brighter now to him. Luckily it doesn’t hurt him, but he thinks, at a glance, that he sees his shadow move in a way that he has not. He stops, for a second to look down at it, and it keeps moving slightly in the direction Jesse moves before moving back to it’s position at Axel’s feet. Looking back to Jesse, he stares for a moment the points down at his shadow for a second. It only takes a minute for him to realize that Jesse can’t answer him at the moment.

He continues to follow. Not sure where Jesse is taking him, but he’s sure that it has something to do with his last question. He thinks about it. His hunger, so hungry. It feels like his whole body is cringing and doubling over. Luckily he feels like he’s just strong enough to not fall and curl up in pain of his hunger. It feels almost as if he’s never eaten before a day in his life. Almost as if he has been given birth to from a test tube with no mother’s womb to feed him in his embryonic state before being spit out into the world. The world at the moment, is one just like it was as a human. Nothing seems to have changed, he notes this again. He wonders if he can even eat food, like he used to. He knows, though, for a fact that he needs blood, but can he imbibe food? That must be where Jesse is taking him now, to get him to feed. He wonders if he’d be good at it, it’s not like its an instinct thing. Humans are not bread with the need to drink blood in their DNA, so it’s natural to worry about needing practice.

As he follows the man before him, he feels drawn to him. Not sure how to explain it. Axel feels like he’s not just following Jesse because he’s being told to, but because doing what the man before him tells him to do feels right. Almost as if the new vampire is following an imperative from a spiritual leader. Never having been the kind of guy to blindly follow someone else, this almost bothers the new vampire; however, being unable to really put a finger on it, he lets it go. He follows wherever Jesse motions for him to move, almost on his heals, hands in his pockets. He doesn’t speak or ask questions because he already knows that his creator can’t answer him at the moment anyway. It’s just that this deep hunger has him feeling absolutely broken and empty.