Spirit Animal Ficlets

Bat Luck

The first terrible instance was the turning.

Conor did not arrive to breakfast. He should have. His family knew him to be the first out of bed or inside depending on what he did that night. The night he had watched the sheeps in case foxes or wolves attacked.

When his father and brothers found a dead sheep in the yard, it was clear something wrong. Opening the barn door, they heard hissing and noticed a pale figure dart further into shadows. Drawing near, the smell of blood filled the air. Two dead sheep littered the floor and a third one looked recently drained. There was hissing at the three men. In the darkest corner was a boy. It was Conor. The youngest of the family but he didn't look much like the Conor they knew. He had long fangs and ghost pale skin. Blood smeared around his mouth clearly from the dead sheep, glaring at his family with blood red eyes. This was not the same boy who had herded sheep.

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The second was worst.

When Conor went to live with the trunswick as a servant, his heart sank. The family had grown use to hiding his condition. Keeping him safe from sunlight, feeding on wild animals in the fields, keeping the sheep safe at night. That was his life. Safety was his number one priority. At the Trunswick Manor, he stressed over his condition. Nobody could know what he was. But even he couldn't keep his second life secret. The youngest Trunswick, Dawson, had caught him at a very, very bad moment.

"Conor, is that a deer?" A voice asked.

The blond turned around to see a brown haired boy. Conor hurried to wipe the blood from his mouth. Though that didn't help as being caught during a meal made him flustered, his fangs were big and his eyes were red.

Conor blushed "Um hey Dawson," he said.

Dawson looked shocked, wide brown eyes looking over the other boy "What are you doing?" He asked.

His fingers dug deep into the deer, it's legs weakly thrashed but didn't break from him grip "Uh, um, nothing-"

"It doesn't look like nothing," he interrupted.

The deer's legs thrashed more violently. It wailed weakly in his hands, Conor glanced between his meal and the Trunswick boy. He sighed "If you let me finish what I'm doing in private, I'll tell you the truth."

Dawson stood there for a moment. He stared at Conor then turned around and walked off. Conor sighed and attacked his still living meal.

Conor sighed as he entered the manor through a window. He didn't want to be seen by any people if he came through the front or kitchen. This was his room, in the west wing where the servants lived.

When he closed the window and turned around. Dawson was sitting on the bed. His legs kicked back and forth weakly "So what was the deer deal?" He asked.

Conor wished he could have a heart attack but he was undead and his heart didn't heat anymore. He sighed heavier "I've got a condition," he started. Dawson tipped his head "Where I'm not alive but I'm not dead and to stay dead-alive I have to drink another living thing's blood," he explained.

He saw Dawson was staring with wide brown eyes "Like a v-"

"Not that." Conor felt like he was going to scream. He didn't like that word, even if it is what he was. He wasn't a person eater. He never drank human blood. Conor was Conor. Dead or Alive, he would never do that. He'd never take a life from feeding and never leave somebody like him. Conor tried clearing his mind "Look, I'm just- I'm not that. I'm still human in a way even if I'm not alive," he replied.

Dawson nodded "Okay, can you do anything else besides drink blood?" He asked.

Conor shrugged "A tad? I've never dabbled in my abilities too much besides hypnosis and the shape shifting," he replied. The abilities drained him depending on which one he used and for how long.

Dawson's face lit up with excitement "You can shape shift!" He said. They spent the rest of their evening talking about Conor's condition.

Conor had been glad to finally tell somebody about it. He had even used his powers to play a trick on Devin for Dawson's entertainment and of his own.

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The third event was when he had been claimed by the greencloaks. Conor had summoned a great beast. He had eaten in days. He needed to feast on something without the greencloaks noticing but lack of food meant he couldn't use his powers to sneak out when all eyes were on him.

So he starved himself, not to death of course, he was already dead but to starve and thirst for something he couldn't get without being caught, Conor took the latter.

There was risks to denying his thirst. Lethargy, nausea, exhaustion the beginning symptoms. After that he got weaker, migraines, sensitivity towards sunlight. In final stages of starving, he looked dead like he should be. Dark bags around his eyes, his fangs grew too big for his mouth, and enchanced senses were the worst possible results. He was a corpse as he entered the training hall. He smiled wearily "I think I'm gonna-" Conor crumpled like a house of cards in the wind.

The Vampire woke up ravenous. His stomach clenched from pain as he curled forward. There was a large lump of deer in the ground. Conor felt his fangs grow as he tackled the living creature. It's wail piercing the air as sharp teeth sunk into its neck. He ripped and tore at the animal. A meal fit for a deathly creature. It wasn't enough.

There was a knock on the door, somebody stepped inside the room after Conor finished his meal of deer. There it was, a still needing hunger. He looked up at Tarik "I need more," he gasped.

Tarik looked him over for a minute "Give it time to settle, most younglings-"

Conor hissed, all fangs and spiteful "No. I need more."

The man raised an eyebrow but wasn't dettered "Young pyres like you always need to feed but believe me, you'll be fine in a few minutes," he said. The greencloak slipped out of the room. Conor screamed and banged on the door.

Soon the rage waned as Tarik had promised. His hunger vanished and he became rather calm. He stared at the older man "How did you know that would happen?" He asked.

Tarik smiled and showed off two fangs "You could say I'm an expert myself."

Conor was speechless.