Grace

It’s far too hot to be sitting in the cave tonight, yet that’s what you’re doing anyway. Not out of choice, of course. You’d never choose to spend the night melting into the couch over visiting the boardwalk and cooling off in the sea. That was David’s choice. You haven’t been allowed to leave since trying to sneak out last week on Dwayne’s bike.

In hindsight, it had been an impulsive decision, made without any real consideration of what the consequences might be. Not to mention the fact that you don’t even know how to ride. It had been dangerous, and a little stupid, but you’d been too excited to see him to care about what might happen if you’re caught.

Nathan Walker.

Your stomach flutters at the mere thought of his name. Nathan’s face flashes to the forefront of your mind, tanned and smiling brightly at you, his long, dark hair ruffled from the breeze and his hazel eyes shining in the warm sun. Happiness personified. Your fathers suspect that it might’ve been a boy you’d been sneaking out to see, but with no real proof, there’s little they can do except keep you confined to the cave and try to intimidate a confession out of you. If you weren’t so used to their vampiric behaviour, you would’ve certainly cracked by now.

But no, you’re better than that. You won’t risk Nathan’s safety.

“The others will be back soon,” Dwayne speaks up from across the room, where he’s lounging on one of the other couches. Your favourite one. He must know that, having probably claimed it just to be petty. Another minor punishment for not telling them the truth about where you were planning to go.

“You gonna wear those?” He continues, eyeing your skimpy pyjamas disdainfully.

You adjust yourself on the sticky leather couch, wincing as you practically have to peel your skin off the material. “Yes. You got a problem with that?”

Dwayne raises an eyebrow, before rolling his eyes and leaning back in defeat. “If that’s really what you wanna wear then I’m not gonna stop you, but David probably won’t be happy that you can’t even get dressed for our guest.”

You sigh dramatically and drape yourself over the armrest, immediately feeling blood rush to your head. It’s a strangely pleasant sensation, like the closest thing you can get to a state of intoxication without rummaging through Paul’s stash. “I don’t care what his new girlfriend thinks of me. She’ll probably be dead by morning anyway.” You huff, tracing patterns across the dusty floor with outstretched fingers.

Dwayne sighs, and then says in the most patronising tone you’ve ever heard, “I’ve already explained this to you, princess, this one’s different. David’s going to turn her.”

You turn to look at him, still dangling off the edge of the couch, and narrow your eyes. “I know that, I’m not stupid, Dad. I just don’t get why Uncle Max wants him to do it.” With a small groan of effort breaking your speech, you sit back on the armrest properly and gesture to your father, “He’s got you four, why does he need some random girl too?”

Dwayne doesn’t look at all amused by your question. He glances away for a moment, carding his fingers through his long, raven hair, before finally replying, “It’s not our place to question him. If Max wants us to find girls, then that’s what we’re doing. Doesn’t matter why he wants them.”

You grimace, “What if she’s a mega bitch?”

“Then you’ll just have to put up with that,” he sighs, before adding, “and she’s not a ‘mega bitch’. She’s nice, I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

Dwayne’s defence of the woman is surprising, considering he usually has no interest in speaking to humans. If you’re going to trust anyone’s judgment on the new girl, it’ll be his.

“You like her then?”

He shrugs, seeming a little surprised by your sudden change in attitude. “No. I don’t like anyone other than you and the boys, but she’s fine. Not a pain in the ass or anything.”

From Dwayne, that’s practically a glowing review.

You shift again on the couch, finding it difficult to get comfortable with the amount of sweat you’re producing. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give yourself a quick wash and change into something that doesn’t reek of B.O. before the guest arrives. It would make a good first impression, and David might reduce your period of house arrest if he sees you’re actually trying to look presentable.

“D’you think I’ll have time to clean up before they get back?”

Dwayne cocks his head towards the far side of the cave with a thoughtful hum, listening to some faraway sound you can’t detect. After a beat of silence, he glances back at you and shakes his head. “Not anymore, I can hear their engines up the top of the cliff.”

“Already?” You sputter, immediately straightening up and adjusting your hair. “Why didn’t you warn me? I’m not ready Dad!”

Dwayne shoots you an exasperated look, “I told you they’d be back soon. What more do you want from me?”

That’s a fair point, but you’re not going to admit that he’s right— being raised by four vampires has taught you better. “How was I supposed to know you meant that literally?”

Dwayne doesn’t miss a beat with his reply, “How else would I mean it?”

You groan, slumping back against the worn leather. “Like, I dunno, a figure of speech? Paul says stuff like that all the time. He’ll say we’re leaving in five minutes and then we actually end up leaving an hour later.”

“Yeah, well I’m not Paul,” he counters with a shrug, “when I say stuff I actually mean it.”

You send him an irritated glare, “If you’d been more specific then I could’ve gotten ready. Now David’s gonna be mad at me ‘cause I’m still in my sweaty pyjamas.”

“I asked you if you wanted to get changed, and you said no.” The steadiness of Dwayne’s voice annoys you. He’s perfectly content just sitting here whilst you have a mini meltdown over the girl that David’s bringing round. In fact, your panic seems to amuse him, like he’s unable to comprehend why having a stranger coming round would make you nervous.

“I thought—” you begin, and then give up, not really sure how you can argue with that. You had refused to put something else on. “Whatever. I had a change of heart. I mean, it’s the thought that counts, right? I was going to get dressed, but then I ran out of time, he can’t be mad at me for that. It was an honest mistake, surely David will understand.”

Dwayne rubs his eyes and sighs, clearly fed up with your rambling. “You’ve been at home the whole night, I wouldn’t call that running out of time.” He pauses and stands up, stretching his arms above his head with an exaggerated groan before glancing over at the cave entrance. “They’re here now, so there’s no point in beating yourself up over it.”

Just as he finishes talking, you hear Paul’s booming laughter echoing off the walls like a siren alerting you of their return. Even before he and the rest of your fathers come into view, you can already tell that Paul has been smoking pot. It’s understandable— if you were allowed, you’d definitely get high tonight as well. That would make meeting this random girl a whole lot easier. Maybe later you’ll be able to sneak away from everyone and get into David’s whiskey stash. Feigning sobriety shouldn’t be too difficult, as you've done it many times before. Most of your dates with Nathan involve smoking weed or getting blackout drunk off of cheap alcohol. It’s a miracle none of your fathers have caught you yet.

“Honey, I’m home!” Paul calls out teasingly, before immediately bursting out into uncontrollable laughter again. You turn your head just in time to see him trip over a loose rock and fall flat on his face at the bottom of the sloped entrance. Marko appears next, snickering at his brother on the floor. He crouches down beside Paul and ruffles his tangled mop of golden hair.

“Damn, how’d the ground taste, bud?”

Paul pushes himself up with a smirk, “I dunno, you tell me.”

Before Marko can react, he grabs a fistful of grit off the floor and shoves it in his face, grinding it into the other vampire’s lips.

Marko swats him away and staggers back to his feet with a disgruntled expression. “Ew, fuck off man!”

From the other couch, you hear Dwayne’s low, rumbling chuckle, “You kind of had it coming, Marko.”

Marko huffs, wiping his face with his sleeve before walking further into the cave where you and Dwayne are sitting. “It was a genuine question— I’ve always wanted to know what rocks taste like.” He shoots Paul a playful grin, before looking back at where you’re still practically melting into the couch. “You been okay, pumpkin? I bet it sucks being stuck here with Dwayne all night.”

“You’re just jealous that I got to spend quality time with her and you didn’t,” Dwayne retorts, shuffling to the end of the couch to make space for him.

Marko ignores the gesture entirely and instead sits right next to you, so close that his thighs press against yours and push them to the side. You jab his ribs with a halfhearted glare and press your legs back into his in retaliation. “Y’know, there’s this thing called personal space. Maybe you’ve never heard of it before, but I value mine, so scoot over.”

“Personal space?” He parrots with a small pout, cocking his head to the side dramatically, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. You ever heard of this ‘personal space’ stuff, Paul?”

Paul struts over and drops down beside Dwayne, resting his arms out across the top of the couch. Clearly he’s gotten over his small spat with Marko in favour of tormenting you. “Nah, dude. Sounds like a bunch of made up crap.” He smiles mischievously, flashing you his canines, “Probably just a conspiracy theory or something— like aliens.”

“Aliens aren’t a conspiracy,” Marko replies defensively, momentarily forgetting about the personal space debate, “they’re real, man! I swear to God I’ve seen a UFO before.”

Dwayne chimes in from beside Paul, “That was obviously a plane. Why would the aliens want to fly over Santa Carla? It’s nowhere near Area 51.” You glance over at him, surprised that even he is getting involved in this ridiculous conversation.

Marko gesticulates theatrically with his hands, “‘Cause Santa Carla’s where it’s at! Who wouldn’t wanna come here?”

Before anyone else can argue with him, a fourth voice cuts in, low and stern. Clearly unamused by what he’s hearing. “You guys aren’t seriously talking about aliens right now.”

At the foot of the slope, David stands with a nervous woman clinging to his arm. She’s partially hidden behind his imposing, leather clad frame, but you can still see the timid wariness in her dark eyes. Her hair is a wild mane of brunette curls, and her outfit is the antithesis of what you’d have chosen to wear, if you weren’t still in your pyjamas. The top she’s picked out is cream with a lace trim and her long, flowing skirt adorns a plethora of colours. Not bold and striking like Marko’s jacket, but an array of soft pastels, like a floral watercolour painting.

You take in her appearance criticically, and then scowl upon realising she too is staring back at you. Her expression isn’t hostile, if anything it’s curious, and maybe a little relieved to see another female in this overwhelmingly testosterone filled cave.

You turn your attention back to David, and notice that his hair is spikier than usual. He must’ve used extra hairspray today, probably to seem more appealing to the new girl, whose name you realise you still don’t know. None of your fathers bothered to tell you.

Marko finally speaks, evidently not at all bothered by his brother’s abruptness. “Actually, we were talkin’ about personal space, but Paul sidetracked us.”

“Personal space?” David muses, glancing over at you, “I’m assuming the kid brought this up?”

“Yep. Complaining about me sitting too close. I mean, everyone knows that personal space isn’t real.” Marko hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap, resting his chin on shoulder. “And even if it was, it wouldn’t matter, ‘cause what’s yours is mine, right babe?”

You roll your eyes and elbow him in the ribs. There’s no point in trying to escape from your father’s hold— his strength as a vampire is far greater than yours. Struggling would only make him tighten his grip. “Don’t think that’s how it works.”

He laughs, pressing his cheek to yours so that your faces are squashed together, “That’s exactly how it works.”

You send Dwayne a look that screams ‘please tell him to let go’, but he just smirks and looks away, purposely ignoring you.

So much for loyalty.

David, now satisfied that you’ve all calmed down, leads the mystery woman further into the cave to where you and the rest of the boys are sitting. He shifts so that she can no longer hide behind his arm, and then clears his throat. “Star, this is [Name]. [Name], this is Star.”

She offers you a small smile, “Nice to meet you, [Name].”

Rather than smiling back, you simply nod and quietly reply, “Nice to meet you too.”

There’s an awkward silence, and then David sighs and gestures to Dwayne and Paul, “You can sit with them if you’d like,” he states gruffly, crossing the space and taking a seat in his wheelchair throne. You almost scoff at his lack of chivalry, but don’t call him out on it. The least he could do is guide the poor woman to the couch.

Fortunately, Paul isn’t lacking in the social skills department as sorely as David. He immediately moves to make space for her, shuffling nearer to Dwayne with a disarming grin.

You watch her perch stiffly beside him, and then shift in Marko’s lap to make yourself more comfortable. “Does she know?” You ask softly, already suspecting the answer.

Marko hums and begins tracing shapes on your arm, “Know what, pumpkin?” Comes his murmured reply.

“You know what I’m asking.”

He hums again in response to your attitude, perhaps deciding whether to tell you off for it or not. Thankfully, he seems to have decided to let it go, at least for now. “She doesn’t know that we’re vampires.” He finally answers, still speaking in a quiet whisper.

“So you’re going to turn her into one without even telling her what you are?” You clarify, voice laced with disapproval. “She’ll go through the transformation process and won’t know what’s happening. That’s not fair, Papa. She at least deserves to know.”

“Of course we’ll tell her eventually,” he argues with a low growl, “but if she knows we’re vampires then she’s not gonna want to drink the blood-wine. The girl can’t know until she becomes one of us.”

You cast a glance over at Star, who looks a little more comfortable now that she’s settled beside Paul. Her fingers are fidgeting restlessly with the beads of her bracelets, but she’s no longer sitting completely upright on the edge of the couch. Whatever Paul’s rambling about must have eased her nerves a little.

“This is wrong— you know it’s wrong. She’ll completely freak when she finds out what you guys have tricked her into. At least win her trust first, make her feel safe around you before you literally turn her into an undead monster.”

Marko’s fingers go still against your skin, and then slowly curl into a crushing grip around your forearm. “Undead monster?” He echoes in a dangerously soft tone. “Is that what you think we are? Monsters?”

You try to keep your voice steady, “That’s what vampires are. They’re monsters.”

“I’m not asking you if you think vampires are monsters, I’m asking if you think we are.” He hisses back, digging his nails into your skin.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out in pain. It’s ironic how he’d ask you such a question whilst actively causing you harm. “I think forcing her to become a vampire without her knowledge is something a monster would do.”

He squeezes your arm even tighter, and for a moment, you’re worried that he’s going to shatter your bones, but then David’s voice cuts through the air and Marko’s death-grip eases slightly.

“Star,” he drawls, pulling out a cigarette and slotting it between his lips, “welcome to our home. Do you like it here?”

Star’s eyes flitter around the cave, taking in all of the clutter. You’ve never paid much attention to all of the empty bottles, mismatched furniture and strange memorabilia before, having lived here for longer than you can remember, but now that your home is subject to the scrutiny of a stranger, you can’t help but feel defensive. You don’t have to hear her speak to know that she thinks the place is a complete mess.

“Yes, it’s nice.” Star finally replies, shooting David a tight smile.

He chuckles darkly as he lights his cigarette, “Nice.” He agrees mockingly, taking a drag of the cigarette.

Paul laughs along with David, oblivious to Star’s discomfort. You watch, still trapped in Marko’s lap, as he slings an arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, right? The whole place is ours— we can do whatever we want here.”

She grimaces and clears her throat, glancing over at you again in an effort to change the subject. “So um, are you two together?”

The amusement on Paul’s face immediately disappears, and Dwayne’s expression turns cold. They both look like they’re going to say something, but Marko beats them to it. “No, are you fucking stupid? She’s our kid.”

You turn your head to glare at Marko, “Don’t be a dick. She was only asking.”

Star seems absolutely mortified. Her cheeks flush a deep red and her eyes widen with both surprise and embarrassment. “Oh! I—I’m so sorry. You just… you only look a few years older than [Name]. Did you guys adopt her? All of you?”

David adjusts himself in his chair, resting his chin on his knuckles as he watches Star squirm through narrowed eyes. “Yes. We saved her from her old family when she was little and raised her ourselves.”

“So you’ve lived here a while, then?” She asks you, her embarrassment fading into a look of confusion now.

You smile awkwardly, still acutely aware of the tension lingering in the air. “Yeah, around ten years now. I think I was six when they found me.”

“Rescued you.” Dwayne corrects sharply, “We saved you from a life of neglect and abuse. Your old family didn’t care about you.”

“Same thing.” You grumble, ignoring the sternness of his tone. The boys have always been particular about how they phrase your adoption. When you were little you didn’t think much of it, but now you’ve started to suspect that what happened was more of a kidnapping than a rescue— even if what they say about your biological family is true, it doesn’t make what they did legal. Not that your fathers haven’t broken any laws before, they do kill people on the regular, but the fact that this crime specifically involves you doesn’t sit quite right.

“I’m sorry,” Star says, smiling nervously at Dwayne, “I’m a bit confused. You can’t be that much older than she is, how did you adopt her when she was only six?”

Your father narrows his eyes, “We’re older than we look.” He replies simply, in a tone that leaves no room for further questioning.

She frowns, but doesn’t press further, thankfully taking the hint that Dwayne doesn’t want to talk to her.

Across the room, David straightens up and clears his throat, “Why don’t we get the drinks out boys? I think Star needs some help loosening up.”

Star’s face appears to whiten in time with your stomach dropping, though both for entirely different reasons. She thinks they’re trying to use intoxication to make her more vulnerable, you know they’re actually going to give her David’s blood.

“Oh, um, that’s okay. I’m not really a big drinker.” She replies politely, shooting David a timid smile.

You can see Dwayne’s scowl deepen at the excuse, and Paul’s arm round her shoulder shifting into more of a headlock than just friendly affection. Marko, on the other hand, seems to be too distracted by your own tension to care about what Star’s doing. The arms around your midsection have grown tighter, a subtle warning not to interfere.

“You’re gonna turn down free booze?” David asks, his voice turning mocking again. “This is good stuff, doll. I really think you should try some.” He then glances over at Dwayne and raises an expectant brow, signaling to his brother to get the blood. Usually such a task would be delegated to Marko, but clearly David has decided that holding you still is more important.

Dwayne gets up without a word and walks over to one of the smaller chambers— the smallest one, where the alcohol is kept. You can feel yourself becoming more agitated at the obvious anxiety on Star’s face. She may not be the type of person you’d typically get along with, but that doesn’t mean you’re just going to let your fathers do this to her. Maybe it’s because she’s a woman, and you feel protective towards your own sex, or maybe it’s simply because like you, she’s a human. You’re both prey animals trapped in a cave of literal predators, though only one of you is fully aware of that.

“Dad,” you protest firmly, glaring at David, “she doesn’t want to drink. Don’t force her to.”

His frosty eyes snap onto yours, wide with disbelief over the fact that you’d dare speak out against him, in front of a guest no less. You brace for a harsh scolding, but instead, his gaze shifts to Marko, and he says coldly, “Take the kid to her room, Marko. Clearly she needs a lesson in manners.”

“Don’t fucking send me to my room just because I have morals and you don’t!” You snap, attempting to lurch out of Marko’s hold. He immediately stands up from the couch in retaliation, arms remaining firmly wrapped around your waist to keep you restrained.

“Stop being difficult.” He growls into your ear, his breath unnaturally cool against your delicate skin.

You try to peel him off just enough to slip through and get away, but your father is relentless. The moment he notices your struggles continue, he adjusts his hold and unceremoniously throws you over his shoulder, so forcefully that all the air is knocked from your chest. You gasp and wheeze, pounding against his back, but he barely seems to notice.

“I told you to stop being difficult,” Marko states plainly, as if manhandling you is a totally reasonable reaction to your outburst.

You grunt, still struggling to catch your breath, as he carries you out of the main chamber. When you look up, you can see Star watching you through wide, horrified eyes from her spot beside Paul. Her posture is rigid with fear, like she’s preparing to bolt at any moment. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary for you, though clearly it is for Star. She looks utterly disturbed by such a bold display of aggression.

But that doesn’t make sense. Dwayne has always said that the real monsters lurk within the depths of humanity. Men are heartless and cruel— far more terrible than vampires, who do humanity a favour by ridding them of these parasites. Whatever pain your fathers cause you is nothing compared to what you would experience living amongst your own kind.

But if that were the case, why is Star so shocked to see Marko acting the way he always does when you’ve broken their rules? This should surely be tame in comparison to what she’s experienced living with humans.

It doesn’t take long for Marko to reach your room. He kicks open your door so hard that it slams straight into the rocky wall and rattles on its hinges. You wince at the sound. If he breaks your door, you know you won’t be getting a replacement.

“What the fuck was that, huh?” Your father snarls, hauling you down from his shoulder with enough force to send you stumbling back onto your bed. He takes a threatening step closer, eyes shifting from blue to a murky shade of green as he fights against his nature. “You brat. You know this is important, the girl has to be turned.”

He stops at the side of your bed, leaving you no breathing space as he looms over your shrinking form. “I don’t wanna be stuck with that bitch for the rest of eternity any more than you do, but like it or not, this is happening.” Marko leans down and places a hand on either side of your hips, effectively pinning you against the bed. “You better get your shit together and start behaving, or else there’s gonna be some serious fucking consequences. Understand?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat and try to inch further back in an attempt to put some distance between you and your father. He immediately catches on to what you’re doing and holds you still in a bruising grip. “I asked you a question.”

“Get off me!” You hiss, shoving at his arms.

Marko’s eyes flicker gold, “I said do you fucking understand?”

The pressure on your hips becomes painful. You can feel his thumbs pressing harshly into your bones, making it clear that this is no longer about simply holding you still. He’s actively trying to cause you discomfort.

“I understand,” you grunt, still trying to writhe out of his grip, “but there was no need for David to force her into drinking the blood. If you guys had just been nice then you wouldn’t have to intimidate her into it.”

“That may be what you think, but it still doesn’t give you permission to interfere. David is calling the shots, not you.” Marko growls darkly. You can see his fangs beginning to extend from his gums, crowding his mouth and making talking audibly harder. He abruptly pulls away from you and closes his eyes to try to school his features back into a more human facade.

You take the opportunity to shuffle further back on the bed. Once there’s a safe enough distance between you and your father, you tenderly lift up the hem of your pyjama shorts and grimace. Your hips look red and swollen. There’ll definitely be bruising tomorrow.

Marko finally manages to calm down. His eyes open, having returned to their usual shade of blue, and immediately hone in on your new position on the bed.

“Did I say you could move?”

You move your hands away from your shorts and rest them on the comforter. “You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Marko’s expression doesn’t change, but his fingers curl into fists at his sides. “You really do just have an answer for everything, don’t you?” The temperature of your sweltering room seems to increase in reaction to Marko’s growing frustration. He slowly begins creeping back towards the bed, his lips twitching as if unable to decide between a smirk and a frown. Your father loves punishments, but despises the disrespect that warrants them.

“How was I supposed to know you wanted me to stay where I was?” You reply, trying to keep your voice calm and level. Don’t give him anything that he could use to escalate the already tense situation.

“You’re usually such a smartass, it’s weird that your brain seems to stop working when you have to do as you're told.” Marko muses, his tone terse and laced with mock amusement.

You grit your teeth and take a deep breath. He’s doing this on purpose, trying to provoke you into an argument so he’ll have an excuse to take this further.

“You didn’t tell me to stay sitting, I moved because I was uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” He barks out a cruel laugh, “That’s new. I’m making you uncomfortable now, am I?”

“I mean physically uncomfortable.” You snap back, “It was an awkward position on the bed.”

Marko sneers down at you. “Don’t raise your voice at me,”

“I’m not!” Your voice shifts to a frustrated whine, almost childlike in pitch. “Why can’t you just be reasonable and listen to me? Stop trying to turn this into a fight!”

His eyes narrow to predatory slits, “Why can’t you just learn your place?”

Your whole body goes rigid with shock, joints locking and muscles tensing as you comprehend what he just said. One of the men who saved you from a supposedly neglectful family, a miserable life among humanity, has just told you to learn your place. Somehow, that hurts more than any kind of corporal punishment ever could.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask quietly, feeling your skin burn hot with indignation and a sickening sort of dread. Marko often says things he doesn’t mean, but this is different. You can tell from the disdainful glare that’s taken over his features that he genuinely believes you to be beneath him.

“It means that as our daughter, and the youngest member of the pack, you’re supposed to follow our lead and do what we ask without question.” He explains coldly, as if your inferiority to them is a fact of nature. “Obviously we’ve been too soft, ‘cause you seem to think you can do whatever the fuck you want without any consequences.”

You inch further back on the bed, trying to increase the space between him and yourself. “So because I’m younger than you, because you think you have some claim over me, that means my opinions don’t matter? Is that what you’re saying?”

He scoffs, completely ignoring your question, and takes a step closer. “Stop moving away from me. We didn’t raise you to be a coward, if you’ve done something wrong then you own up to it like a big girl.”

“Stop belittling me, Dad. I’m sixteen, I can tell apart right from wrong. And I know damn well that what you’re doing to Star is wrong.” Your fingers curl anxiously into the comforter. Talking back to him is dangerous, but to just stand by and allow them to do this to an innocent woman feels amoral. You’re at a crossroad. “I know that Uncle Max told you to do this, but if you let me speak to him directly, maybe we could sort this out.”

Marko laughs again. “Oh pumpkin, you’re just so fucking naive, aren’t you? None of us care about how that girl feels, except maybe Paul, but that’s only ‘cause he thinks she’s hot. Max isn’t gonna care any more than the rest of us do, so don’t bother whining to him about your morals.”

You can feel the warm fear that prickles beneath your skin simmering into anger. Their indifference to humans isn’t news to you, but you’d always thought they only targeted those who deserve it. Star, whilst you may think her to be stupid for even getting herself into this situation, hasn’t done anything to warrant being damned to an eternal life of blood.

“Can’t you just think about how other people feel for just five minutes?” You cry, trying desperately to reason with him. “She has a life too, and feelings! If you really have to turn her then you guys can at least be nice about it. There’s no need to bully her.”

Marko doesn’t immediately reply. Instead, he remains standing stiffly at the edge of your bed, staring down at you as if you’re worth little more than the rest of the humans they feed from. “It’s not in our nature to care.” He finally answers, in a surprisingly monotone voice. “You’ll understand when you become one of us, but for now, you’ve got to trust Max and David’s judgment.”

Your father’s apathy to your concern only aggravates you further. Rather than accepting his explanation, you snap back in frustration. “Stop using that to justify being a massive piece of shit! Being a vampire doesn’t make you an awful person, it just gives you an excuse to become one.”

Marko’s features morph back into a monstrous sneer. His eyes melt into a fiery shade of yellow, and the muscles contort beneath his skin to reshape his face into something less than human. Startled, you start shuffling away from him, so far back that you’ve now reached the other side. Marko lunges in response, stretching forward and snapping a clawed hand around your ankle to keep you from scrambling away.

“Get off me!” You yelp, trying to kick him away with your bare feet. The skin of your ankle is burning beneath the pressure of his nails, digging hard enough to draw blood. “Stop it, Dad, that hurts!”

He drags you across the bed by your foot, and then yanks his hand away to roughly pull you up by your wrist. “It hurts, does it?” He snarls, now standing chest to chest with you, “You know what hurts more? My own daughter calling me a piece of shit. That fucking hurts.”

You try to shove him back, but he doesn’t budge an inch. “You’re only mad because you know it’s true!”

Marko growls deeply, his lips pulling back to display his wickedly sharp fangs. Before you can even react, his hand shoots out and grabs you by the throat, just tight enough to make breathing uncomfortable. “It’s true, huh? Well in that case, I guess I might as well play the part.”

You open your mouth to argue further, only to be hit with a sudden, excruciating pain. An audible crack rings out as your nose shatters beneath his fist, so loud that you’re sure even Star must’ve heard it. The force sends you stumbling back blindly, crashing into furniture as your hands hover uselessly around your nose, which is now profusely spilling hot, syrupy blood down to your chin.

You collapse against the old wooden cabinet that Paul had helped you paint a few years ago, and squint open your eyes. They sting with unshed tears, making it hard to focus on Marko’s expression, but you can see his figure coming closer.

“Did that hurt, baby?” He sneers mockingly, “Poor thing, the big bad monster made you bleed.”

Your hands slide against the rough floor as you push yourself to sit more upright. The rock scrapes at your palms, though the pain is negligible compared to your pounding nose. “Don’t— don’t touch me.” You groan, turning to press your cheek against the cool wood of the cabinet. Blood coats your lips, warm and unpleasant, as you speak. Your tongue instinctively darts out to clear away the fluid before you can even realise what you’re doing. It tastes of copper, nothing like the rich sweetness that your fathers often describe.

Marko’s blurry frame crouches down before you, watching in silence before he speaks again. “Don’t touch you? But that’s what monsters do, isn’t it? They hurt people.”

You blink away your tears until his face comes into focus, and then bring a shaky hand up to your face, smearing away the blood on your lips. Marko’s expression is cold and expectant— a stark contrast to the playful sadism of his voice.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan, grinding your hands into the floor to try and generate pain elsewhere in your body. Anything to distract you from the hot pulsing that’s undoubtedly the result of a broken bone. “I’m sorry, Papa, you’re not a monster. Please don’t hurt me again, ‘m sorry.”

Marko’s features soften slightly at your pleading apology, though you can still see a darkness lingering in his eyes. His attention seems to be flickering between your own tearful expression and the mangled state of your nose. Or more specifically, what’s streaming out from it. “You’re sorry?” He murmurs absently, as if making sure he’s understanding you right. For a few seconds, Marko remains completely fixated on your bloodstained skin. It’s only when you draw your knees protectively up to your chest that he finally snaps out of his trance. “Don’t apologise. Apologies are a sign of weakness.”

“Then what do you want from me?” You grunt breathlessly. You’re having to rely completely now on breathing through your mouth, which makes speaking a great effort.

Marko’s head tilts to the side in a deceptively innocent manner. His soft blue eyes sparkle in the dim candlelight of your room as he raises a hand to cup your cheek. The action makes you stiffen, but you manage to keep yourself from flinching away entirely.

“I don’t want an apology,” he reiterates in a low murmur, “all I want is for you to realise that you’re just as much of a monster as we are. We created the person you are today. Our cruelty is yours too— the only difference is that you harm with words, not actions.”

He pauses, staring at your broken face with disturbing reverence, before adding, “You’ll be such a perfect vampire. I can already see the hunger in you, the desire to hunt. It won’t be long now until you’re ready to join us in eternity.”

You shake your head with a sort of choked whimper, “I don’t want eternity. I don’t want to be like you.”

The knowledge that you will one day become a vampire has become a burden of which you have had to carry for years now. It has been a long time since your impending immortality has seemed a gift, rather than a curse. A threat of a dark future they will force upon you, tethering you to them forever. Destroying not only your own life, but the lives of all the humans you will be condemned to kill. You have had ten years to come to terms with what is to become of your humanity, and yet with every passing day, the idea of joining them in this life forever becomes more and more dreadful.

None of your fathers care. How many times have you confided in them about your worries? Too many to count. They have never once considered leaving you to grow old— letting you live what life you could have had, if Dwayne hadn’t found you alone on the boardwalk all those years ago.

“You don’t know what you want.” Marko counters darkly. “As your parents, it’s our job to make these decisions for you, otherwise you’d do something you regret.”

You shake your head again, and then quickly stop upon realising the action sends a nauseating wave of pain through your sinuses. “I don’t want to be a vampire.” You insist, “Let me have my own life— I won’t abandon you, I promise.”

Marko’s thumb begins to drift across your skin, as if stroking your face. It’s only when his digit strays to the clot of blood pooling at your upper lip that you realise what he’s doing. Before you can say anything in protest, your father pulls away his hand and brings his thumb, now coated in your blood, up to his lips. His eyes flutter shut with simple bliss as he savours the taste of his own destruction.

For a few seconds, a tense silence hangs between the two of you. Your father appears completely taken away by the morsel of blood he has stolen, and you, watching him, feel utterly sick. When Marko finally looks back at you, he seems dazed and a little unfocused, as if drunk on that tangy copper flavour you despise so much. “You will want it.” He finally says, rising back up to his full height as if he hasn’t literally just tasted your nosebleed. “When you’re finally one of us, you will understand why we did it, and you will be grateful.”

You crane your neck to look up at him, lips still softly parted to allow you to breathe through your mouth. “You don’t know that. I’m not like you, I’d be better off as a human.”

Marko’s expression doesn’t change as he replies coldly, “You’ll learn to be like us then. You will learn to trust the decisions we make for you, and enjoy your new unlife as a vampire.”

“I’ll never enjoy killing people,” you hiss, digging your nails into your knees. Your father’s face stays just as blank as it was before. This conversation means nothing to him, because he’s incapable of equating human life to something valuable. They’re lesser beings. You’re a lesser being.

“You will.” He says, so certainly that it almost comes across as arrogant. “After you’ve made your first kill, you won’t be the same. You’ll be an apex predator, like us. The concept of morals will seem childish and stupid, irrelevant compared to the feeling you’ll get after you take your first kill. You’ll be chasing that high for the rest of eternity.”

When he finishes speaking, you don’t even know what to say in response. You’ve lived with Marko long enough to know that arguing with him, or any of your fathers for that matter, is futile, and deep down, you’re terrified that what he says is true. Because surely they weren’t always like this. They weren’t always vampires. At some point, Marko, David, Paul and Dwayne were all regular people, at least to some extent. They would have lived with the same knowledge as everyone else, that some day they would die. They would have surely valued human life much more when they possessed mortality themselves.

Marko watches you intently, and then finally says, “You understand now, don’t you? It’s more than immortality. You’ll become something greater than humanity— another species. We are gods, walking among the people, we choose who lives and who dies.”

You shake your head weakly, “You don’t know that. You don’t know for sure that I’ll be like you.”

Marko merely smiles. “I watched Paul become a vampire, and I’ve raised you since you were a little girl. I think I know a lot more than you realise.”

You draw in a breath, preparing to speak, but then stop when you notice his attention drifting. His eyes are no longer pinned on you, but rather focusing on the doorway. Listening to something. Then he glances back at you and his smile grows. “Looks like we’ve got a fledgling on our hands.”

You stiffen. “Star drank the blood?”

“She did.” He confirms, looking back at the door. “David will want me to join them.”

“What about me?” The last thing you want to do is leave your room, especially with the state of your face right now. You don’t know much about the process of becoming a vampire. Is Star going to become feral when she smells your blood? Are you even safe in your own home right now?

“You’re staying here.” Marko says sternly. “David‘s probably gonna want to talk to you later, and Dwayne will too.” He groans, running his fingers through his golden locks, “Fuck, I’m gonna get an earful from him when he sees what I did to your nose. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just behaved.”

You wipe away some of the blood from your face. Of course he’d blame this on you, because when is anything ever their fault? “I’m sorry.” You apologise stiffly.

He huffs and walks over to your door, still open, and then says dryly, “I know you’re sorry. You always are. When will you learn that saying sorry doesn’t change anything?”

You go to reply, but Marko doesn’t wait for a response. He leaves through the doorway without a word and shuts the door behind him. After a moment you hear a click, and it becomes clear that he’s locked you inside. You listen without protest to his fading footsteps as he leaves, and breathe out a small sigh of relief. Or maybe it’s fear, because you know that introducing a new vampire to the pack will only make them more anxious to turn you sooner.

You’re running out of time.

Tag list- @xjesterxjacksx @lunoorbonoor @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @thelostboysforeva @purple-lemon-8