fangs (a trans vampire story)

Chapter two

As he left the safety of his bedroom he was welcomed by a sea of vampires in the main hall wearing all black. Their chatter came to a slow end as he made his way to the top of the main staircase. He could feel their eyes all over him, and it made him want to peel off his skin. Their gaze bore into his white dress, meant to symbolize the purity that would soon be stained with the blood of his victim.

The crowd parted to reveal his unconscious prey, glinting in the moonlight from the open front windows. His mother emerged from the crowd, wearing her dark, glittering crown as a sign of status, beckoning him forward.

She picked up the man's limp wrist and held it towards him, and he made eye contact with the high council of vampires, watching from afar as she did. The crowd watched with bated breaths as he took his first bite.

The blood tasted sweet and delicious, warming his body fully. No no no no no no. He panicked, but soon gave into the taste. Slowly though, the taste turned bitter in his mouth and he began to choke as the concoction turned to acid in his throat. Greenish puss oozed from the man's slit wrist, and the crowd jumped back in fear. He collapsed to the ground, choking harder, as the crowd began to murmur in disapproval.

"She's alright! I'm sure it was nothing." His mother called out, trying to pacify the panicked crowd. "I'm sure it's just that she needs a little more time to develop her powers!" He closed his eyes, too ashamed to face the disappointment of his fellow vampires. Someone, he guessed his brother Nicholas by his limp grip, dragged him upstairs to his room.

He buried himself immediately into his red down comforter, trying to will himself out of existence . "Hey it's alright, they'll get over it. You still have time." His brother tried to comfort. "It's okay Jess." He dug his fingernails into his black satin pillowcase, the name sending him over the edge.

"Can I just be alone?" Tears pricked at his eyes, tears he tried his hardest to fight away because he knew his brothers and his father would never cry like this so why would he? Nicholas nodded and left wordlessly. He was definitely the most understanding of all his brothers.

He locked the door, certain his mother would come try to come barging in at any moment, and tore the hideous dress off himself and threw it into the closet. He took down his hair and kicked off the horribly uncomfortable shoes. They landed somewhere, he didn't really care where, they could have ascended to the pits of hell for all he cared. He threw on a red and black sweater that hadn't been washed in god only knows how long and a loose pair of shorts. That's all he could manage before collapsing into bed.

He felt guilty, terribly terribly guilty. But also excited. Because this meant that his family couldn't deny it.

He was a boy