House Red

Happy Birthday

 Silas walked the brightly-lit Time Square that was packed with people so that no one needed to wear more than a t-shirt despite the deep winter chill that had settled over the rest of the celebrating city. Everyone was chanting in unison so loudly that you almost couldn't make out what they were saying unless you were well away.

 The ball at the top of the spire slowly descended in time with the chanting before coming to rest at the very top of One Times Square triggering an impressive fireworks display and raucous celebration simultaneously. He stood still with his eyes closed, just reveling in the incredible energy of the moment. This was the one night of the year that Silas allowed himself full indulgence in this world.

 "Happy birthday to me." The words went completely unheard in the din around him, but he felt as if the entire world was celebrating with him at that moment. When the world had switched to the Gregorian calendar and birthdays became a regular celebration, Silas realized that, when he was born, time was told only in the changing seasons and movement of the herds that he hunted as an adolescent.

 Snapping back to the present after his small revelry in the past, the lone man who stood quietly amidst the celebration spotted his gift. A little taller and curvier than what most would consider attractive, she was perfect to him, a representation of femininity. He was drawn toward her slowly through the crowd.

 The sardines packed in so tightly somehow shifted so that no one came into physical contact with Silas or looked at him for more than a fraction of a second, as if they could not focus on him but still felt that aura that caused them to shy away. He came up behind the woman and breathed deeply her scent, ignoring the lingering odors of too many people in an old city.

 Vanilla and honey. She must have sensed him behind her because she shifted closer to her small group of friends as she said her goodbyes to them, pleading an early work day in some office that refused to stay closed despite the crippling hangovers and broken resolutions to follow in the morning.

 The Fraulein, Silas felt that the German term was an apt description for her, started forcing her way through the crowd. Silas followed in her wake blending into the shadows as moving through the thinning crowd became easier. With everyone celebrating in their homes or in The Square, Silas and his gift were alone on deserted streets with only the occasional stumbling drunk and the rats to witness their passing.

 They could always tell when it was about to happen because despite him moving with no sound and perfect agility, they always tensed up at the last moment. He moved right up into her as they passed the mouth of a dark alley and took her completely under his control with his arms wrapped around her torso. An effortless few sidesteps took them both deeper into the dark.

 Silas released his hold on her long enough to move her head to one side away from her opposite shoulder with a gentle but firm push of his hands. With practiced accuracy, he moved in and pierced her throat with his fangs as they snapped down into position over his teeth.

 He never felt the blood rush in when he was partaking of his birthday gift. He let something else rush into him; Amber's memories flooded into him. It was like downloading a movie directly into his mind and watching it instantaneously. Beneath the memories of a good, safe life were her deeper secrets, the meat of what he needed to know.

 His birthday gift to himself was the chance at finding a companion. He had seen many of his kind Make over and over again with all disregard for what it would do to the people that they took. Long grudges against Makers or suicide were common among those that were taken forcefully. Silas had been a Maker rarely through his long life, but all of them were still around as far as he knew and very successful. The one thing he had never found was his true companion. The one to call his own and keep by his side for an eternity.

 This one seemed promising with strong ambition and confidence, a warmheartedness that belied an inner strength. He continued to delve further into her hoping that he had finally found one.

 Silas was heartbroken when he found It, a mark of blackness against the glowing white of her essence. Examining it more closely, he could see that something in her past had marred her indelibly. She had felt weak and developed aspirations of sadistic dominance over her tormentor. Even though it was long ago and her tormentor was no more, he knew that this cruel intent would grow over time and eventually lose its focus, allowing her to unleash it on all those around her.

 All of this happened in an instant and Silas had to decide. This blood reading was a rare ability passed down through his bloodline. It allowed him to see into the people that he wanted to change, but it carried a heavier price. When he read their blood, he could never forget what he saw. Very few used it or were Makers often because of the insanity that would ensue from carrying so many memories on top of their own acquired through the ages.

 Even beyond the price to himself was the finality of the blood reading. The Making begins when one starts the blood reading. If a Maker finds something like the black mark he just found, there was no turning back. He could not simply stop and let her walk away; she would be far too dangerous and unstable. She was already changing without a hope of reversal.

 Amber slumped a little as Silas stopped supporting her weight and moved around to face her. Her eyes cleared and she became more lucid, aware of the man standing in front of her. He slowly reached toward her with his hands, placing them gently around her throat. She relaxed and gazed into the eyes of this man knowing there was something special about him. That look never left her face as Silas quickly flexed his arms and ripped her head off.

 "Maybe next year."