A Sanguinary Rose (Complete)

They took me to Mr. Royce’s office on the second-floor hallway. My thirst for blood had grown so much I caught myself a few times staring at Anja’s supple neck as she led the way. She beamed at me one time she noticed.

Oliver knocked on the door. Beside it was a brass plaque reading ‘Montgomery Royce.’ He would become my ‘homeroom’ teacher soon. Homeroom, that’s what we were supposed to tell humans. He actually taught cryptology, a broad subject which encompassed crypto-anthropology, cryptozoology and its derivatives.

Oliver turned to me and blinked. “What happened to your hair? It’s... so red now.”

I couldn’t care less about my hair. The wait was killing me. Every second my thirst went unattended it clawed deeper, boundless gashes in my mind; every wasted second my consciousness seemed to fade out more and more to replace it with something else. Something, someone, had hijacked my personality and I was now riding shotgun. “Just wondering what your blood tastes like. Is it too iron-y? I feel that would make me spit.” Both looked appalled, especially Oliver. “What?”

“Oh, no, too soon, man, too soon,” Oliver said, banging on the door.

“Well, um, like, I could let you have a small taste?” Anja offered, hesitating. “Maybe as your first?”

“Holy hell, Anja, you don’t say that to a vampire!”

A man in his fifties flung the door open. “How MANY times- oh, pardon me.” He wore a russet-colored sports jacket over a white turtleneck shirt. “Mr. Armstrong, Ms. Lynn, good morning. What can I help you with?” He said, mustering a quick smile. It turned into a frown as he looked me down and mumbled: “A vampire? What’s your name, Ms...”

“They said you’d feed me,” I said, sticking out my thumb towards the duo. At the same time, I couldn’t believe those words were leaving my mouth.

“No. We said he could help you. Very different.” Oliver turned to the teacher. “She’s having mood swings.”

“No, that’s the vampire within talking,” the teacher said. He beckoned us inside. “Please, come in. I’ll give you a pass for class. Have a seat.”

Oliver drew a chair for me to sit, so instead of a ‘thank you’ I gave him a vampiric leer, which had him sit as far away from me with Anja between us. The shutters were drawn, and a bitter whiff of espresso crept into my nose from the teacher’s coffeemaker. Mr. Royce opened a mini fridge in the corner of the office and retrieved a dark red bag. “Try not to make a mess, Ms...?” he said, handing it to me.

It was blood. I bit down on it with sharp fangs I didn’t know I had. The liquid gushed into my mouth, cold, viscous and tasting like iron. I fell into a state of stupor as all the tension that had built up dissipated from my body. There was an explosion of bitter flavor across my tongue, gliding down my throat, and I finally came alive. It was bliss, so much that for a moment I felt being a vampire was not so bad.

“Aw, she looks so happy,” Anja said.

“Why would you have that in your fridge?” Oliver asked, stunned. “When I said ‘help’ I meant as in counseling.”

“She’s not the only vampire here, of course. Besides, it’s cow’s blood,” the teacher said. “I’ve seen her before. Wasn’t she human?”

“It happened around one in the morning. The image is still ingrained in my eyes...”

Mr. Royce glanced at me before lowering his voice. I heard it all anyway. “You’re heir to House Belial. You think there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it?” Oliver tensed up at once. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean... I forget you are only kids. Any idea who did it?”

“I don’t have night vision.”

“A devil, right? I wanna know all about it.” I let the empty bag of blood plop on the paper-cluttered desk. The words came out in a drawl. “How do you hide it so well? Is the beanie a part of your disguise?”

“It’s not like there’s much to hide, you know?” he said, turning red as a tomato. “And no, I just like wearing it.”

“She’s drunk,” Mr. Royce said, massaging the bridge of his nose. “She should come back to normal in a few minutes. Wait, how does she know you’re a devil?” The teacher glowered at the two. “You can’t go around—”

“Tell that to Anja, she won’t listen to—”

“Ms. Lynn, you don’t know the whiplash she might have suffered from this knowledge. Please never do that again.” He turned to me. “So, her name...?”

“Scarlett Rosenbaum,” I said.

“You’re in good hands now, Ms. Rosenbaum,” the teacher said. He opened his laptop. “I’ll have you added to the roster for cryptology class. It’s your new first and second period. Block period. Don’t forget. Starting next month. Fingers crossed for a smooth transition.”

“Well, there goes my easy A.” I never told Frau Schmidt I was bilingual. Crime confessed.

“I think you’ll manage,” he said, closing his laptop.

“What about her parents? I don’t think they’re supposed to know, right?” Anja asked on my behalf.

“That’s a complicated matter. It comes back to what effects this knowledge could have on them,” the teacher said, turning to me and snapping his fingers before my drunken eyes. “This is of crucial importance. Are you with me?”

I nodded groggily.

“So let’s jump to the crux of the issue. Technically, it would be fine if you told your family. The problem is you cannot know how they’ll react. Best-case scenario, you give them a good spook and they take time to adjust. In the worst-case scenario and most likely scenario, mind you, as renowned writer H. P. Lovecraft once put it, they’d go mad from the revelation. You may have heard of the Witch Hunts. The Witch Hunts of North Berwick, of Basque, of Würzburg, of Salzburg, of Salem. Why did they happen? The initial suspicions and ensuing revelation of our existence caused a collective hysteria across countries. In the end, the Salem Witch Hunts gave rise to the Orpheus Almanac, a coalition of ‘fables and myths,’ if you will, to keep our presence among humans forever hidden and to prevent another Witch Hunt from ever taking place.”

“One task they have is the civil registry,” Anja told me. “They register you when you’re born or ‘discovered.’ In your case, they would’ve written you in once they found you out at the morgue.”

At the morgue. The sheer ridiculousness made me dizzy.

“That is correct,” Mr. Royce went on. “As civilizations modernized and became globalized, The Orpheus Almanac turned into what we know today: ORPHEUS (Occult Registry of Paranormal-Human Entities Under Surveillance). It represents the pillars of our society. They control our communication with humans; they act as the link between our worlds, between our leaders and the humans’. They keep our population in check and a tight leash on many of us. This is where I segue into the second half of the problem. Other species get more leeway. But you are a vampire. There aren’t as many vampires as you’d think. They must be reined in, kept in check, because of their fickle personalities and their unending taste for blood. Vampires do not thrive in our society. I want you to be cautious, Ms. Rosenbaum. ORPHEUS’ leash on you might strangle you. As long as you don’t tell anybody, as long as you don’t feed on anybody, you should be well. I’ll try to restock on blood as often as I can. Easy enough, right?”

“And what if they catch me?”

“You live with it. Never get on their bad side and you might enjoy a normal life. Normal, for a vampire, that is.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

“If you’re feeling bloodthirsty come to me. I am most available by the end of seventh period, so you can come get your daily fix.” Mr. Royce gave me signed leave to skip the rest of the day. “I hope you brought an umbrella. We have clear skies today. Be extra careful.”

***

The sun blasted down in full force. Damn my luck; we were on the second week of October, in one of the dreariest and dampest regions in North America, and yet, shimmering heat waves scalded my eyes and seared my skin as I stepped out on the school grounds. I’d have normally popped in my headphones and strolled home. It’s the little things that make me now realize how much I had lost with a bite to the neck.

I looked at my reflection on the tall cafeteria windows. At least I had one. I wore all blacks, from the hoodie covering my upper body, to my hiking boots, leather gloves, jeans and sunglasses. My scarlet hair had gone back to its usual light bronze after my thirst had been sated. I rummaged in my bag for the umbrella and braced myself for my walk through the fire.

The simple act of going to and back from school became a task of survival. But I learned to cope. Some days I stayed after class until sunset and woke up before sunrise to avoid it. A couple school clubs caught my eye so at least I wouldn’t waste away while I waited.

The hardest thing for me was walking in there and showing myself before all these people I’d never seen who already knew each other. The first one I tried was the chess club. It made me feel like an idiot, despite knowing the basics well. The literature and philosophy club droned on about topics I could only sleep on. Drama and singing were the bane of my existence. A few other clubs were exclusively outdoors, so quickly I realized I’d rather waste away waiting.

One day Anja noticed me on my lonesome as she came out of seventh. Since then she’s kept me company for an hour, or two, and once the whole time until we both went home.

“If I owned a car, I’d drive you to your place,” she said.

“I owe you, guys. Who knows where I’d be right now?”

Oliver was naturally drawn in to our conversations when he didn’t have lacrosse practice. Conversations sometimes ran on bottomless fuel and we’d chat and joke until nightfall.

One time during a fun conversation we were having, I heard a loud droning noise, and then it hit me. “Are... are you purring?” I was hoping my hearing deceived me.

“Get used to it,” Oliver said next to her, laughing.

When Anja got too excited and there weren’t humans around, she’d purr out of the blue. It sounded much louder than any house cat’s purr.

Anyway, it was also good spare time to round off as much homework as we could when topics ran dry of juice.

Over the weekend I had to make up excuses for not wanting to go out with my family. If I got hissy-pissy I could have it my way and stay home, curling up against a dark corner with my phone or a book in hand. But that only soured the rest of the day for me. More and more I became certain something inside me would take control and make those outbursts happen. Mr. Royce had called it the vampire within.

After about three weeks, I started to receive obscure messages from unknown numbers, but I’d block them right away. It’s a habit Dad ingrained in my psyche ever since they gifted me my first cellphone. At first, the texts were a harmless ‘Hi.’ Although they quickly devolved into creepiness. The last one I remember said, ‘Where have you gone, darling?’

Sleep came hard at night often. My remedy was to walk out the front door and stroll through the streets, alleys and parks of Farpoint until my feet hurt. Neither the darkness nor anything hiding in it scared me anymore. Dad was quick to forbid it though, so I snuck out my window instead.

But was being a vampire so bad? I mean, now I could see in the darkness, run faster than any classmate, lift heavier objects than Dad and most other adults. My first night sneaking out, it caught me by surprise how well I could slip through forest trails even when it was almost pitch-black.

On a blistering Monday afternoon, Oliver didn’t show up to school, and Anja had to go home soon after seventh period. Screw it. Perhaps my friends had spoiled me with their company, so this time I preferred taking the walk through fire rather than wait by myself until sunset. If I kept to the shadows and clung hard to my umbrella, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Pine trees bordered the trail leading in and out of the school grounds. I stuck as close to their needle-strewn shades as they came, scurrying from one to the next. I hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet when Melanie stopped me cold in my tracks right out in the open and under the sun, her jet-black hair gleaming like a spear of sunlight.

She eyed me top to bottom with an expression of disbelief. “Who died? Your self-worth?”

“What do you want?” Even with the umbrella above, the heat seeped through the fabrics.

“You think you can get away with ruining my life? Spreading rumors about me,” she said between gritted teeth. I tried to skirt around her, but she played it tough and blocked me again. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have no clue what you’re on about. Excuse me.” But Melanie barred my way with her arm.

Her nostrils flared. Her eyes thinly veiled the fury in them. “People are calling me ‘cow’ behind my back. It all comes back around to you, stupid bitch.”

“According to who? It wasn’t me. You’re delusional.”

Melanie glanced to the side, her lower lip trembling, before advancing on me. “According to everyone.”

I glanced, too. There were people watching us from a bench nearby—her usual snickering friends, and Eli. An odious eager smile stretched across his pale face, curtained by black greasy hair. I’d heard once Eli bullied people by proxy.

He is a devil, I wanted to say. Oliver had told me so. Instead I said, “He’s filling you up with bullshit.”

“Ever since you barged into my life, you’ve ruined every moment. That’s all you’re about. Stealing others’ thunder, leeching off better people, mocking them behind their back. My shin took weeks to stop hurting.”

“You brought that on yourself. And when have I mocked—, you know what? I don’t have time for this.” I edged around her.

“Oh, I brought it on myself, didn’t I?” Melanie retorted, jabbing a finger on my shoulder. She began a rant about all the horrifying things I’ve done to her. I shoved her and took a few steps before she caught up. “Hey! I’m not done with you.”

“I told you I was sorry about that. Leave me alone.”

“I wondered for a long time what he saw in you,” she said, as I skirted around her and tried to rush to the nearest shade, but she gripped my arm. Her nails dug into my fabrics and flesh. “You’re not popular, you always stick to that ragtag group of losers, you’re flat as a cardboard, an ugly-ass anorexic slut.”

Melanie wrenched the umbrella from my hands, and I burned. I shrieked. My first reaction was to drop to the ground on my fours, scrambling for a shade, or for cold water, or anything to put out the scorching sensation on my skin. The pain flared and spread, jumped and danced, from my limbs to my core. When I crawled under the shade, the swords of flame lingered, and they faded.

“Wow, aren’t you one special freak? Oh, you just love making scenes; I’ve always fucking despised that, too,” she said, tossing the umbrella over her shoulder. I heard Eli’s cries of laughter, and the girls at his side snickering, and my insides boiled. Melanie scowled at me, shook her head, and went to join them.

I looked over my gloved hands, my jeans and my heaving torso. I hadn’t actually caught fire as the pain had me believe. It could’ve been much worse. I pushed back an onslaught of tears, stood trembling on my feet, and forced down the acid crawling up my esophagus. The umbrella lay upturned on the sunbathed grass. I braced myself and dashed toward it as the fiery pain resurfaced, threw it outspread above my head, and ran home.

There had to be a cure—I couldn’t live out the rest of my days like this.

***

The darkness creeping in filled me with life. It invigorated me, gave me energy, and took away the drowsiness from the day. It was my haven, my protector, my ally. Perhaps that was the reason I barely slept during the night.

An impromptu message from my friends invited me to a party that evening. Despite the earlier traumatic event, I couldn’t have been more eager to go. I changed into faded, scratched jeans and a V-necked blouse. I highlighted my eyelashes with black to have the blue in my eyes stand out. With nightfall, my hair took a bright scarlet shade on its own. It freaked me out watching it happen before the mirror as the color washed down my curls on its own, like an angry chameleon, or octopus... or something. I bared my teeth in front of my reflection and felt along the upper row for my fangs, though they were not there, oddly enough.

By the time I arrived at Nathan’s, Nightingale Road was booming with music all the way down the street. Tonight was less crowded than last time, but still loud with whoops and chatter.

It wasn’t long before I found my three besties inside, hoofing it to the beat. “Hey, guys. Smelling good,” I said, looking first at their necks and then at their faces.

“You dig the cologne I’m wearing?” Rick said, wagging his eyebrows.

“You’re right out of wrestling practice. We can all tell,” Amanda replied.

“Wow, that red color really suits you,” Tiffany said, checking out my hair. Her eyes crinkled behind her glasses. “Uh, who gave you the idea?”

“Yeah, quite the eye-catcher,” Rick said, nodding.

“Just stick with me, amiga, I know what’s hot right now.”

Tiffany raised her eyebrows and leaned way too close into me and sniffed. “Oh, wow,” she mumbled. “You’re a-a... excuse me. I’m sorry.”

That would’ve left me bewildered if a strong, bitter smell hadn’t slithered into my nostrils, firing off my salivary glands. It lured me towards the makeshift dance floor in the living room. I heard Rick cheering me on, and looking over my shoulder, saw him and Amanda watching in awe. I didn’t blame them. They’d never seen me get on the dance floor by myself.

I pushed through until I found a small clearing where I could move around comfortably. I became one with the tide, swinging limbs to the beat. For the first time ever, I felt at ease while dancing. People threw glances my way, some of them smiling, some flushing and looking away as soon as our gazes met. My scarlet locks bounced up and down my shoulders, and beads of sweat made my skin glisten under the flashing lights after some minutes. The smells exuding from boys and girls alike blended in the air, stewing in one big casserole of viscous, dark blood.

Dim lights, music blasting out of the speakers, tight rooms packed with people with their senses dulled—It was the perfect feeding environment. I had fed enough in the morning, though. Anything else would only be gluttony. I was merely relishing the scent, surveying the feast.

“Scarlett, right?” a voice said behind me. I turned without disrupting my moves. I might have seen him once or twice in the school hallways.

“One and only.”

“Wow, you look different... Wanna dance?”

It was funny how he gawked when I swayed my hips in his direction. His clumsy arms ran around my waist, and his legs tried their damnedest to imitate some form of dance. I touched his chin, daring him to keep our eyes locked on each other, but he couldn’t last two seconds.

I bent closer to his neck, and that’s when I spotted Alan across the hall, leaning against the banister, talking with three of his friends. Grabbing the boy’s hands, I gave him a spin, let go, and disappeared through the crowd before he realized I ditched him.

The time felt right to make another move. I wove in through groups of students and strutted toward him. “Hey, are you gonna make me ask twice?”

His face shifted from boredom to disbelief. I made a move to touch his arm, but he recoiled. His friends surrounded me in a tight circle.

“I rejected you when you were human. What makes you think I’d want to now?” Alan said, raising his chin. “Who did this to you?”

“Oh, now you care?”

He glanced around. Guys and girls took to the dance floor, some came back stumbling breathless on a couch, or headed to the kitchen for another drink. His gray eyes pierced right into my soul. “Come, let’s talk somewhere else.”

Alan turned on his heels and took off in that aristocratic gait of his toward the stairs. I caught up to his side and held his hand. “Careful, I’d hate to burn you to a crisp,” he said, jerking his hand away from me. His skin briefly glimmered white before he tucked his hands in his blazer.

Students clogged the second floor all the same. Fingers of cigarette smoke crawled in my nostrils. We brushed shoulders, bumped into others, and stopped before a door.

Alan pushed it open, “Nobody’s going to bother us. I’ll be right back,” he said to his friends, who had lined up and leaned against the wall, chattering. I followed, and he closed the door behind me.

It was Nathan’s parents’ bedroom. The loud, rumbling music from the first floor came muffled. Alan shuffled his feet, his hands tucked in his pockets. His back slouched a little. He lost the grace in his movements as soon as nobody else was watching him.

“This would be my first time, so don’t get too frustrated,” I said, giving him a doe-eyed smile.

He winced. “I wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“Whew, that’s evil. I like it.”

He winced again. “What’s with vampires turning everything into either blood or sex, or both?”

“So you can tell what I am?”

“I sensed it. Some of my friends can sense it, too,” he said. “You’re the only vampire at this party, as far as I can tell. It would be my duty to kill you where you stand.”

“Dying twice in the same month sounds too taxing for me,” I said, taking a step forward. “You don’t smell like the other humans do.”

“But it wouldn’t be fair. I believe in giving people a chance, even vampires and devils.”

“What are you? You hide it pretty well.”

“The clues are there. They’ve always been. You just don’t know where to look, yet” he said. “Let me tell you, I usually find these kinds of earthly events excruciating to bear. You’ve turned it into a slightly interesting night. But I don’t want my friends thinking the wrong things, so let’s get it over with. Tell me, who was it? Who sired you?”

“Who what?”

“Made you a vampire. That’s what it means.”

I shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“Nothing whatsoever?”

I shook my head. “A quick tango might help me remember, though.”

“Well, I’m sorry this happened to you. But I’m not one to act out of pity, so you can quit your act. In fact, you should stay away from people when you’re on the feed, especially at night when the vampire within is strongest. Think about it: you’re a danger to your friends and your family. Otherwise, ORPHEUS will take matters into their hands.” He stalked past me, opened the door and joined his friends. Their chatter died away within seconds.

I looked in the mirror over the dresser. My hair streamed over my shoulders in a river of bright locks of scarlet, a pulsating, living red. So the vampire within is strongest at night. I smelled her, savored the bitter scent of iron permeating the air before I saw her from the corner of my eye.

Melanie stood by the bedroom’s door, looking daggers at me. What a treat!

“There are so many things I could do to you,” she said, gnashing her teeth together.

“You existing is already enough to bear.” I sauntered past her side and closed the door. She tensed like a cat arching its back. “You really need to adjust your priorities here. You don’t realize nobody gives a shit about your shoes, the dresses you wear, whatever desserts you pigged out on. It’s pathetic. People will only remember you by your actions—a two-faced bitch, and they will say ‘Good riddance.’”

“I will make hell for you all these years, every day, until you drop out,” she said, snarling to my face. Her rapid breathing fanned my skin.

“Not if I do it to you first.” I couldn’t help the smirk twisting my lips. Her pupils flared, and she took a step back. She must have seen the vampire in me. I clutched her arms, preventing her from lashing out. My grip alone was enough to keep her planted in place. She whimpered. I leaned over her neck and inhaled the lavender of her slick raven hair.