Dorian
The school exhausted me. There was something I definitely hadn't missed.
Arriving home, or rather, the place we were living for now, I pushed open the door lazily and was immediately met with the sharp sting of raised voices slicing through the air. A rare thing, since Rodrick and Selena hardly ever argued. The tension was thick enough to choke on.
Selena's eyes landed on me, her expression quickly softening back to its usual calm mask. She gave me that familiar smile, the one she'd always reserved just for me. It was a fragile thread of comfort in the suffocating silence I'd grown used to. She never saw me as the monster I always felt I was , never showed the disgust I imagined lurked behind every glance.
"How was your first day?"
Selena tilted her head slightly, that gentle smile still in place, as if I hadn't just barged in on a storm.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, my voice low and brittle, ignoring her question like it had never been asked. My eyes locked on Rodrick instead, drawn to the storm brewing in his tense frame.
My brother had always been an intimidating figure, tall, broad-shouldered, with a permanent scowl etched into his face like a curse. He looked like he carried the weight of the world's hatred on his shoulders. I didn't blame him, he'd been through hell and back, scars deeper than skin could show.
He was tense now, coiled tight like a predator ready to strike, jaw clenched so hard I feared his teeth might crack, a vein pulsing on his neck like a warning drumbeat.
"Today, you're coming hunting with me and the others."
Rodrick's voice dropped low, sharp with barely concealed irritation, and something darker lurking beneath.
Rodrick and the other vampires often ventured into the forest to hunt, a brutal ritual meant to honour ancient traditions. When I was younger, he dragged me along, to harden me, to expose me to the savage truth of what we were. It twisted something inside me, made me colder, more violent than I wanted to be. Selena always protested, terrified of what those hunts did to me. She'd recoil at the sight of me returning with blood staining my canines, a cruel grin plastered on my face. Those rare moments when I caught a flicker of pride in Rodrick's eyes felt like poison, reminders of the monster I was supposed to become.
"And Micah goes along," he added, voice final, leaving no room for argument.
I blinked in shock. Rodrick had never taken Micah hunting before. It was one of the few things Rodrick and Selena had done differently for him, in hopes that Micah wouldn't grow into the same broken creature I'd become.
I had been younger than Micah the first time I went hunting. But that was just one of many cruelties they subjected me to, sparings Micah from the same fate.
And that was the gulf between us.
Micah was soft, calm, fragile, almost. No threat to anything alive, not even a fly.
"You finally decided to start training Micah to be the vampire he was born to be?" I said, the words slipping out before I could cage them, bitter and sharp as shattered glass.
Rodrick's eyes burned into me, like I'd just spat in the face of everything he believed in, like I'd just challenged his entire way of raising his brothers. Selena swallowed hard, avoiding our eyes, as if the tension was a living thing choking the room.
Rodrick scoffed, venom thick in his voice. "The vampire he was born to be? Like who? You?" Each word was a deliberate blade, crafted to cut deep. And though I tried to keep the pain buried, it crawled under my skin and settled there, heavy and cold.
My malicious smile dissolved into a scowl, dark and raw.
My brother never missed an opportunity to remind me how shattered I was, how broken from the inside out.
The only person I could truly blame for what I'd become was him. I never said it aloud, never would. But every silent thought screamed it.
I glanced at Selena, desperate for some kind of defence, a crack in her calm facade. But she didn't meet my gaze, just looked away.
I scoffed quietly and turned on my heel, retreating to my room.
That discussion had been lost a long, long time ago.
When I entered my room, to my surprise, Micah was there, sitting on my bed, knees pulled tightly to his chest. His eyes were red and swollen, his cheeks streaked with the remains of tears. I'd never been the affectionate, worried older brother type, but seeing him like that made something deep in me twist uncomfortably.
Not sure how to react, I just stood in the doorway, silently watching him, hoping he'd explain without me having to ask. Maybe he caught the message, because a few seconds later, he lifted his head, his lashes wet with the last traces of crying.
"Rodrick and Selena were arguing," he said, as if he already knew I'd overheard.
I crossed the room and sat down beside him on the bed, letting out a long sigh as I stared at the ceiling.
"Couples argue, Micah…" I muttered, the most generic thing I could have possibly said. I silently willed him to accept it, because my understanding of relationships began and ended with what I'd seen between Rodrick and Selena. I'd never had one myself, at least, not anything worth calling serious.
Micah hesitated, then continued. "I heard Rodrick. He's going to take me hunting with you, isn't he?"
I didn't feel sorry for him. Truthfully, it was about time he learned that being a vampire wasn't all the glamorous movie perks, fangs, immortality, good hair. Personally, I thought Rodrick had waited far too long to start preparing him.
"It's not as bad as it seems."
No sooner had I said it than a small hand gripped my sweater tightly, clutching it like it was some kind of shield.
"I don't want to go. I don't like seeing dead animals, Dorian."
I glanced at him, catching the way fresh tears were forming again. I knew it wouldn't be easy for him, Micah and I were nothing alike. Not even close.
I didn't answer. Not because I wanted to be cruel, but because I genuinely didn't know what to say.
"Don't let me go, Dorian! You're supposed to protect me… you promised."
His voice broke, choked with tears, and the last two words, you promised, echoed in my head like a curse.
Suddenly, I was a child again. Rodrick's disapproving glare burned into me, Selena's smile absent for the first time I could remember. She had Micah in her lap, shielding his eyes as if protecting him from me. Rodrick's anger was carved deep into every line of his face, but I couldn't understand why. Wasn't this exactly what he'd always wanted me to become?
The memory clawed at me, but I forced myself to shove it down.
Micah was staring at me now, his wide eyes searching my face like I'd been somewhere far away for a moment.
They promised to protect you. I never promised anything. If it were up to me, you would've gone hunting a long time ago, along with all the other things I was forced into. The words stayed locked in my head. I didn't have the courage to say them aloud.
Instead, I pulled him into an awkward hug. I wasn't sure if I was doing it right, I'd never hugged my brother before, but the way his small arms tightened around me told me maybe I was.
"I'll be there," I murmured. "I won't let them force you to get your hands dirty."
Empty promises. Lies I couldn't keep. But in that moment, I knew they were exactly what he needed to hear.
Was it that difficult to do this when, when it was me?
It didn't take long for night to fall.
Micah hadn't left my room since earlier, hovering like a shadow that refused to drift away. I was getting dressed for the hunt, head to toe in black, every thread chosen to blend into the darkness of the forest. My hair was still cropped short, a silent rebellion I'd made years ago. Vampires were supposed to grow their hair long, a symbol of tradition and pride. Mine stayed cut, and it was just one of the many things that got under Rodrick's skin.
Rodrick appeared in my doorway, his hair tied back in a precise ponytail, his own clothes just as dark as mine. His expression was heavier than usual, the kind of frown that made the air feel colder.
"We leave in five minutes."
No further words. He turned and disappeared down the corridor.
I glanced at Micah. He seemed calmer now, but there was still a nervous tightness in the way he sat, as if every muscle was ready to flinch. I approached slowly.
"Turn around," I said softly, softer than I usually allowed my voice to be.
Micah sat on the bed with his back to me. I began gathering his long hair, pulling it gently into a ponytail.
"Uncle Neith will be there too," I told him.
He stayed silent, but I felt his shoulders ease, just a little.
"The weather's bad tonight. We probably won't find anything out there." My tone carried the weight of disappointment, but it was all smoke and mirrors. He couldn't see the smirk tugging at my mouth from where he sat.
The reaction was exactly what I'd expected, he spun around to face me with one of the brightest smiles I'd ever seen from him, his eyes shining with pure, fragile hope.
"Really? So I won't have to hunt?"
I knew I couldn't promise that. I knew the forest wouldn't be empty. But letting him cling to the idea that it might be, that this night could somehow turn into nothing, felt like a kindness.
"Turn around," I said, struggling to keep the smile out of my voice. "I need to finish your hair."
He obeyed, and I continued pinning his hair in place, my hands steady even as I thought about what awaited us in the dark.
When we stepped out toward the forest, the streets were already swallowed in darkness, lit only by the soft, golden spill from the houses we passed. Rodrick led the way in silence, his fists clenched, each step purposeful and heavy. Micah stayed close to me, his small hand gripping mine so tightly I could feel the tremor in his fingers. He said nothing, but the fear in his silence was loud enough.
The forest rose up around us, tall, dense trees pressing in from every side, their shadows stretching like claws. The canopy blotted out most of the night sky, but not enough to hide the faint, blood-red gleam of eyes in the darkness. Eyes I knew belonged to Uncle Neith.
Rodrick stopped at a clearing where the trees thinned just enough to open a path. He placed his hands on his hips and let out a low laugh.
"Shook up, Uncle Neith."
"One day, I'll be able to hide from you, nephew," came the deep voice from somewhere ahead. A sigh followed, then a figure emerged from between the trees. Micah stiffened and his grip on my hand tightened like a vice.
A smile crept onto my face when I finally saw my uncle's features. He was tall, with a full beard and shoulders broad enough to make the trees look smaller. His arms were lined with muscle and ink, black tattoos curling down to his fingertips. More ink marked his neck, patterns that seemed almost alive in the dim light. He reminded me so much of my father that, for a fleeting moment, it felt like comfort.
"Uncle Neith." Rodrick smiled, shaking his hand firmly. Neith returned the greeting before pulling Rodrick into a brief hug, a gesture my brother didn't exactly welcome but tolerated. Then my uncle's gaze shifted to me.
He stepped away from Rodrick, his boots crunching against the ground in slow, deliberate strides, until he stood directly in front of me. His expression was unreadable, his eyes searching me like he was trying to summon a ghost from memory. My muscles tensed under his scrutiny, until his large, heavy hand came down on my shoulder, squeezing with warmth.
"Dorian." His voice was low and firm, but a faint smile tugged at his mouth. He pulled me into a hug, and I froze, unsure what to do with my arms. My face must have given me away, because he lowered his voice so only I could hear. "It's good to see you, boy." I almost smiled at that.
The moment didn't last. Rodrick cleared his throat, sharp, purposeful, to break it.
"Micah also came."
Uncle Neith stepped back and looked down. Micah was staring at the ground, fidgeting with his fingers.
"Micah?" There was genuine surprise in Neith's tone, he had never seen Micah out here before. "Your brother finally decided to bring you, huh?" He laughed, lifting Micah effortlessly into his arms. "You're getting bigger… and heavier." He tickled him, pulling a laugh out of Micah.
"He will come with us from now on," Rodrick said. "It's time for him to grow up."
The warmth in the moment evaporated. Uncle Neith's smile vanished, and Micah's laughter died in his throat. Neith set him back on the ground, his face shadowed.
"Alright, guys. Let's start."
And then they appeared, dozens of red eyes sliding out of the darkness, vampires from our clan stepping into the clearing one by one.
Micah's hand found my sweater again, clutching it like a lifeline. I stayed where I was, watching Rodrick and Neith greet the others. Their voices were low but carried enough for me to catch fragments, comments that stirred my blood into a slow boil.
Then Uncle Neith gave the signal.
In an instant, the vampires scattered, vanishing into the blackness of the forest. Only Rodrick, Micah, Uncle Neith, and I remained.