Lone the Faith

A Century-Old Vampire

Pucci could feel his eyes widen fairly at the hearing of his name. How did this man acknowledge his identity? The first encounter, he had only shambled off back into the darkness of the ossuary after adjusting his problematic toes, if not by magic. He opened his mouth, feeling a vortex of curiosity swirl their way as he inquired.

"How have you figured out my name?"

He couldn't adjust his posture. His legs felt as if they were glued down on the floor, preventing him from walking away. With a lump in the throat that he couldn't swallow, he kept his prolonged stare on the distinctive man.

The man finally subtly opened his mouth, strenuously lifting his chilly hand off Pucci's shoulder. He spoke in a clear voice that conserved a threatening yet lulled tone with a peculiarly fierce British accent.

"I've asked the pastor beside this rectory last night."

The reason was told as one pithy line, but it was implausible. Pucci doubted that this man had willingly gone up to a churchman, preconceived disbelief or not. He kept his tongue bitten to abstain himself from trying to be nosey.

The British seemed to be reckoning to get a response from Pucci before adding a snarky remark as he soon knew the Seminarian was planning to bury his words.

"Hmph, that man... He replied swiftly, holding no suspicion on who I was."

Pucci could feel a slight agitation at the snide, his eyebrows furrowing. The man didn't seem to be aware of the erecting fury as he went on, addressing another comment. He altered his leisure posture, lifting his torso by propping his elbows on the couch.

"Aren't you a clergy as well? I'm surprised you are idiotic enough to look up to the man. The deacon behaved far more noble."

Disturbed by the haughtiness, Pucci narrowed his eyes on the man. It was disputable whether Father Medeez was an admirable figure or not. However, Pucci's conviction opposed the insults. The man was presuming to affront a churchman.

Taming the anger down, Pucci adjusted his offended look, questioning the man back with an abrupt warning. He couldn't get another man to get lynched by being convicted publically. Shame wasn't a path for a Seminarian to offer.

"Don't besmirch Father Medeez. Your perspective does not harm the fact that he had been ordained... What is your name, anyway?"

The man didn't seem to hold grudges against the operant actions. Pucci was expecting the sealed lips to open back up, hoping not to be disregarded with his inquiry.

It was just one, rapid blink. In a quick millisecond, Pucci was staring at an empty couch. An empty couch that had a mark indicating that one had sat down just a moment ago. Fright creeping up the spine with a chilly, unpleasant sense, Pucci focused on the continued voice. It was in the back, just behind him by the wall of his room.

"DIO... That is how you may call me."

He was audacious enough to turn his head around, facing the man again. The name was a mockery of God, just as eerie as DIO was. The reveal of his name did not convert the conjecture of Pucci one bit. DIO was pretentious, one cocky, complacent man to ever confidently step into the rectory where ecclesiastics were dwelling.

The swift movement was one that Pucci's eyes could not follow. It was far more surprising than to imagine himself being consecrated. His stead of keeping calmness was already done crumbling apart as he tensed up, scarcely forming his words.

"Just who... What are you?"

The question fueled with dread and alarm, Pucci managed to point an accusing finger at DIO. DIO only showed a condescending smirk before crossing his arms tightly as he took a silent step over to the window. He pushed the kit with a sizeable cross embroidered on it away, gazing at the translucent moon stuck in the pitch black.

"A bloodsucker... A century-old vampire, that is."

Pucci would've scoffed at the absurd response, only if it wasn't DIO who came up with the conclusion. It wasn't his volition to raise an eyebrow as he swallowed the disruptive lump in his throat.

Ridiculous.

 Vampires were only mythical, nonexistent creatures made by seniors to scare their children, continued by a lineage to the next. Pucci knew that matter, every being knew it. He couldn't describe or explicate why, but that was the fittest description for DIO. It was convincing, probable at the least. After all, he owned manners that a mortal couldn't emulate.

Before Pucci had adequate bravery to question more about the species, DIO was out of sight again. The section of the wooden floor where DIO had been standing gave a light creak although it remained intact. Pucci turned his head over to the ringing voice just on the frame of the window, surprisingly spotting DIO sitting dangerously on the edge.

"Let's be friends, Pucci... I'm an impeccable being. If we build up a camaraderie, I'm sure you'll be able to pinpoint my essence. I could help you find your nature as well."

Pucci immediately sprung up from the floor, hurrying over to the window, to the figure of DIO. He wasn't certain if he could reach this man as he stretched his hand out, questioning one last time.

"Is it guaranteed, DIO?"

DIO's snobby smirk only broadened at the ask for a certainty, seemingly implying a prospect, which made Pucci uneasy. He finally nodded lightly before leaning backward, off into the unlit night. Alarmed, Pucci warned about falling and crashing into the orchard of the rectory in a quick second although the body of DIO had already vanished. 

Pucci grabbed onto the frame of the window, leaning over to see the orchard completely untouched, without any trace of a man falling or stepping onto it. An incomprehensible ability of DIO, it was unnerving.

He simply stared down at the budding flowers soughing by the cold wind of the afternoon, promising himself to accept the prior request of DIO.