//------------------------------// // 18 U.S. Code ยง 1112 // Story: He's a Vampire // by Gormless Wheaton //------------------------------// The world spun around me as I slipped back to consciousness. That was an almost alien feeling by now, as I didn't sleep anymore. What the hell happened? "I understand your reverence, and I don't wish to discredit your grandfather," I heard the voice of Celestia nearby. "I'm just offering clarification based on experience." "But if that's true.." That was Quilt. "Where'd he come from?" I groaned and tried to stand. "Well, I suppose we have to talk with him about it, hm?" I heard the clatter of hooves and found myself hoisted to a sitting position by magic. From there, I blinked the blurriness out of my eyes and saw Quilt standing in front of me, with Princess Celestia at her side. "You okay?" Quilt asked with genuine concern. She looked like she'd been crying the way her wool was matted up. "I'm fine, what happened to you?" I asked, adjusting myself before standing, casting a critical eye Celestia's way. "We were discussing her part in your unlife, Mr. Harlow," she explained, still with a smile. I looked down at Quilt, who kicked the ground. "I really did mess the ritual up, Peter.." Celestia knelt down and hugged her with a wing. "Not at all! You did wonderfully, all things considered." "What happened?" I asked. They both looked up at me before Celestia stood up. "Ms. Quilt is not the one who summoned you, Peter Harlow, she merely woke you." "Is there a difference?" I asked with a shrug. Celestia nodded. "Very! The magic that summons an undead builds its body and conditions its soul to inhabit the new body," she smiled down at Quilt. "Awakening, however, does just that and merely wakes the creature up." Quilt hesitated, but returned her smile. Celestia then looked at me severely. "And you're very lucky she was the one to do so," she said. "She explained all that has transpired, and I can now most certainly say, had she not been the one to complete the ritual? Had it not been done out of concern for her friends? You and I would under no circumstance be having this conversation." Her tone hit me like a truck, and I felt more chills and tingles than I'd felt stumbling across any garlic clove or plank of ashwood. "Good to know, I guess," I huffed, before furrowing my brow. "Did you follow me and knock me out?" She bowed her head. "Yes, and I beg your pardon, but experience necessitated my actions," she looked up at me. "I had to make certain the one who woke you was of decent character as I found you to be." I blinked. "Quilt? Decent character?" I scoffed. Quilt stamped her hoof. "Scruff yourself! Kill him, princess!" Celestia giggled, before moving to sit on the sofa, gesturing for us to follow. I sat across the table from both of them, and Celestia smiled at us before continuing. "When an undead is formed from dark magic the process is two-fold. First, the body must be revitalized or rebuilt. The summoner may choose to reflect the subject's body as it was originally, or follow a new design as suits the intended purpose of the creature," she spoke with her eyes closed, exuding a serene aura that helped digest everything she was saying. "The second step is the awakening. The ritual will flood the subject's soul with magic as it refits their essence to their new flesh before they burst into consciousness." She opened her eyes and looked into mine. "If that ritual is performed out of malice, darkness, and hatred, the magic will scour all goodness from the soul, leaving behind only the worst of the individual," she spoke with a subtle but definitely remorseful tone. It shifted to hopeful as she continued. "If however, the ritual is performed out of love, it will only foster and nourish the soul, and no such change will take place." I looked at Quilt and remembered what she said in the bar nearly a week ago. 'I love Cozy and the others, and I only did the ritual because of that. I'm not some skulking witch or Longhorn wannabe.' "Oh shit," I huffed. "You're telling me," Quilt murmured. "I didn't even know there was a difference between summoning and awakening. Grandpa only ever taught me the ritual I used.." "So, what? Did he misunderstand it or something?" I asked. Quilt shrugged. "I dunno.." "It matters very little," Celestia called our attention as she swept Quilt to her side with a wing. "What matters is by a stroke of luck for Mr. Harlow, the love you hold for your friends is what woke him. Regardless of their origins, you used your talents for the sake of your friends and love, and that I must commend." "Th-thank you.." Quilt squeaked in embarrassment. "How much of this did you know before you knocked me out?" I asked, drawing her eyes back to me. "I knew you were not an evil being. If your soul was lost to darkness, but you were perhaps merely playing at amicability, you would have burst into flames when you made contact with the ward I placed on my coat." I gawped. "So when you had me ride you.." I began. She nodded and winked. Quilt jumped to her hooves. "Whoa, whoa, whoa.. When she had you what?" she squawked. "Silence familiar! The Royals are discussing important things," I commanded with a sweep of my hand. "I'll royally smash your head!" Quilt and I glared at each other but shortly fell into laughter, which Celestia even joined. After a minute or two, I sighed and Quilt turned to Celestia. "So, like I asked earlier if I didn't summon Peter.. Who did?" I sat up and looked at Celestia, who wore a solemn smile. "That I think would be best left for Mr. Harlow to divulge to you, and only if he feels like sharing," she looked into my eyes. "I dunno what you mean," I shrugged. "I have no idea." "Well then, if Ms. Quilt will grant us some privacy, perhaps I can shed some light," she said, looking at Quilt. Quilt looked at me nervously, and back to Celestia. "Well.. alright," she assented, hopping off the sofa and moving for the door. I followed after her. "You okay?" I mentally asked. She paused at the door. "Yeah. She's nothing like I thought.. Nothing like Grand.." She shook her head and opened the door. "I'm gonna go find Cozy," she said. "A wonderful idea. Take every chance to foster that friendship, Ms. Quilt," Celestia called after her. Quilt waved to the princess, before smiling at me and leaving. I closed the door, and took a bracing breath. "Please have a seat, Mr. Harlow," she patted the sofa next to her with a wing. "I'm forbidden from touching that," I said as I tried to return to my chair, mostly to avoid proximity with her. My gut was screaming things were about to get awful. "I'm sure she'll make an exception." Grumbling, I sat as instructed. She hummed in thought before she spoke again. "There is no easing this. Everything I'm about to tell you is going to cut deeply, but it is perhaps better to grant you the full scope of your situation, rather than leave you grasping." Called it. "If it gets to be too much, I implore you to let me know." "I'm a big boy, princess," I sighed. She nodded and began. "When I inspected the cavern you awoke in, what struck me most was the same peculiarity I saw in you," she began, looking me up and down. "Both the cavern and you are not new, Mr. Harlow. The dark magic that sculpted your flesh and carved that chamber is now very mature." "Considering you retained many memories of your former life as Twilight conveyed to me, I believe you have been in this state for some time. No newborn undead would have such a clear image as to retain their name." I considered her words and sighed in defeat. "How long was I in there?" "Fifty-five years," she said with a stern look in her eye. "And so, you were summoned by the Longhorns." Her magic was all that kept me from falling from my seat once her words finally hit home. I dunno how long I sat dumbly before that, though. "You.." I croaked once she set me upright. "I'm certain. Summoned and left in a stupor for all these years, for reasons I cannot guess," she explained with that look still in her eye. She blinked and adopted a softer expression. "Please let me know when I may continue. I know this is a lot to take in." Silence hung over us, the sound of my breathing the only reinforcement I had that I was still there. My ears rang, and I felt my skin tingle as if my Evil Eye was reacting to my feelings about the news and was taking it as a threat. Eventually, it all stopped and I looked up at her again, though half-heartedly. "Okay." She nodded in response. "This will be a shock to you, I know, but I have encountered your kind before," she adjusted in her seat to better face me and held my hand with a hoof. "You are the twelfth human-turned-nosferatu I have encountered and the only one I have met who was not a slave to darkness." She held my eyes with her sad, understanding gaze. I squeezed her hoof as my mouth hung open. Despite the ringing in my ears, I let her continue. "The Longhorns had been set to a purpose by a Mastermind I have never identified. In their haste, they cast a wide net to fuel their schemes," we never blinked, and she returned my grip with a squeeze of her own. "Over a half score of your race were swept up in this. But due to the span of space crossed, and I suspect the difference in magical saturation, only those who the dark magic resonated with were snared." She adjusted again and held me in a wing. "Those who had already died, and had evil in their hearts or died in misery and despair," she said as I slid down in her grip. "I sadly suspect I know which you were, but there is only one way to know for certain." I looked up at her from her chest. Her eyes were still sad, but now radiated hope and were almost as much a comfort as the moon. "I will not force you, for it will not be easy even when contrasted with the reality I have bared against you thus far. I only offer that it may provide closure to my concerns and your loss," she held me tighter. "The choice is yours, and please take your time before answering. There will be no forgetting again." Quiet fell again, but this time her breathing and heartbeat kept mine company. "Would you like to remember?" She asked. How she knew, I didn't know. "Yes." And I didn't care. "Happy Halloween! Ha-ha-ha!" I called upon bursting through the door. I was met with cheers from the office. "Don't come to my house, or else I'll-" "Shut the fuck up, you dweeb," Nicholas jeered as he swept an arm around me, dragging me to the far side of the room with a laugh. "Dracula eh? Classic." "Why, thank you!" I said with a bow before noticing his plain clothes. I gestured to him with a bemused smile. "I'm an interpretive piece," he explained, pulling the collar on his flannel. "See, if you see this and get spooked, that's how we know you hate the working class." I snorted, ignoring my phone as it buzzed in my pocket. Nicholas and I made our way to the snack bar, and more importantly to the punch bowl, which Kevin was still working on. "Hey, Pete. Happy Halloween!" Kevin saluted. "Right back at you. How's about-" He held up an envelope with my name on it. "Keys in the bag first," I rolled my eyes and slipped my car keys in. Once he'd sealed the envelope and piled it with the others, he filled a cup and handed it to me. "Drink irresponsibly, you're safe now!" I saluted with my cup as my phone buzzed again, signaling a message had been left. As Nicholas went to flirt with Sam, I pulled it out to listen to the message. "Hey, Peter!" I looked up to see Dan waving at me and pointing to the metal door at the back of the office. "Martin asked me to get you when you showed up. He needs to talk with you. Side access." "Now that's a scary thought," I shook my head and waved to Kevin as I walked out, sipping from his concoction. I found Martin leaning somberly on the stairwell railing, looking down the six flights below us. Hearing the door open, he looked at me over his shoulder. No costume, just the same ill-fit dress shirt that barely hid how absolutely jacked the guy was. "Hey, Pete." "Hey, Marty. One sec?" I gestured with my phone. He nodded. "Sure thing," he leaned off the railing, causing the entire thing to rattle. He whipped back around, and shook it a few times with one hand, eliciting an echoing clatter. He scoffed and pulled out his own phone. "Siri set a reminder. Monday, 6 am, Call Lawrence. Sixth-floor railing's loose." Turning away, I pressed my phone to my ear. "~Hey hon! It's your mom, in case you couldn't guess. Look, I know.. I know you said you were looking forward to tonight, and all, but..~" I furrowed my brow as she sighed and stammered. "~Well, you remember how your brother and I both got that awful cough? Well, we actually got into the doctor Wednesday to get looked at. I still can't believe Johnson was able to see us both so quick!~" "~Anyway, Will and I just got our results back, earlier.. I don't want to get you down tonight or anything, so just call me or stop by tomorrow, okay? Will really wants to see you.~" "~Okay, have fun honey! *mwah* Love you.~" I closed my voicemail, and tossed my phone in the air a few times, before finishing my drink. I shivered and winced as I tossed the cup into the trash next to the door. "Alrighty, Marty. I gotta get going to see my mom, so what'd you need?" "She doing alright?" He asked. "Her and Will caught something I guess. I told you he's been out sick?" "Right, right, right, he's the one you got a part timer in our warehouse?" He asked, scratching his chest. "Yeah, that's him." Martin hummed in response. I was about to ask what was wrong when he leaned on the railing again, causing it to creak and drew his hand down his face. He took a long breath and shot forward, fire in his eyes. "New policy as of this morning, Peter. Straight from the top," I groaned and rolled my head. "Alright." "We need you to start compiling the names of anyone out sick for chest problems, coughing fits, or anything like that," he said pacing away from me. "Why's that?" I said, leaning on the railing before backing off as it shook. I turned to see him standing, one hand on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look," he said after a minute. "We gotta cover our asses here." I straightened up. "What's going on, Mart?" He winced and grumbled. "Alright. Look, you remember last month we had to close the warehouse for cleaning?" I nodded. "Well, it wasn't just routine. We got a chemically contaminated shipment. I don't know what, I don't know when I just know it was bad." I blanched and swayed as I digested that news. "We cleaned it as best we could, but the shit was already in the air and on the guys' clothes," I turned to stare at him. "Hits the lungs real bad apparently. Terminally bad. So if it gets out, we could be in hot water. We've gotta cut them before it comes back to us. We got it under wraps right now, but." He shrugged. He leveled that look at me. I hated that look. The look that screamed 'This is wrong, but that's life.' "That's pretty fucked up, Martin," I looked away and drew my hand down my face. I realized something critical as soon as I did. "Will works in the warehouse." "Pete." "He lives with mom." "Peter, listen-" "He has since dad died. He's been too fucking depressed to hold down a job. She does his laundry for fucks sake." My eyes snapped to Martin. He sat with that look. I raised my free hand and pointed dumbly at him, my mouth opening and closing in a struggle to find the words. He shrugged and clapped his hands on his thighs. I clenched my teeth and started dialing. "What are you doing, Peter?" He said with disappointment. "Calling Mom to let her know how you fucked my little brother, and her." He steeled himself and stepped towards me. "Don't do that, Pete." "I'm doing it." I held the phone to my ear. "Pete." "It's ringing." He grabbed my arm and wrenched the phone out of my hand. "You aren't thinking straight! You know what this could do to us!" I grabbed his collar, slamming him with all my weight, earning a surprised shout from him, and wrestled for my phone, which was still ringing. "I know you're murdering my little brother, you fucking-" Right as I got a grip on the phone, he planted his shoe in my chest and kicked off. I felt and heard the railing give out behind me. I saw the third-floor railing come speeding towards me, and I felt it crash into my stomach, sending me tumbling down onto the concrete far below. I think Martin yelled something down to me, and I think I saw him moving down the stairs. I couldn't tell. It was blurry, and I couldn't breathe. "Peter?" I heard from my phone, which must have landed next to my head. "Mom?" I tried to say, but nothing came out. Only a strained gurgling wheeze. "Peter?" "Mom, I'm sorry. You have to tell Will," still nothing. "Peter? Are you there?" "Mom.." "Peter?" ... "Peter?" ... "Peter?" My eyes snapped to focus. I blinked a few times and looked up to see Celestia. "Peter, the spell is complete." "Spell.." I said, catching my breath. "Yes, you should remember now," she said with a sad nod. I breathed quietly before nodding back. "I do," I stared down at the floor. "How did it happen?" She asked. "I couldn't tell them." "Pardon?" She leaned closer. I looked up at her, feeling tears start to well up. "My mom. My little brother. I couldn't.." I dumbly held out my hands before slouching. I breathed slowly, staring into Celestia's concerned gaze. "Peter.. you're bleeding." "Wh-" She gestured to my eyes. I wiped my hand across them and looked at the stains on my fingers. Blood. The first tears that weren't from some hokey allergy, and they were made of blood. The tears I shed for my mom and little brother who were long dead, and they were a monster's ugly unnatural tears. I snorted and cackled. "Peter?" She called in surprise. After my laughing fit I reclined in my seat and looked at her with a sigh. "I can't even grieve right." My vision was filled with her wings as she all but tackled me into a hug.