I hate vampires.
That was the first thought of Rowan Blackwell as he sat on the last bench of his classroom, pretending to listen to his English teacher. She was explaining a short story from their textbook. Of course, it had to be about vampires.
In the country of Eldermoor, vampires had become a common topic. These bloodsucking creatures were enough to haunt an entire nation.
Eldermoor was a place where the technology was modern, but the structures were ancient. Schools, apartments, and even government buildings looked old, massive, and dark.
Rowan lived in the city of Gravenford. It was one of the most populated cities in Eldermoor, mostly because it was the country's financial center.
Rowan didn't hate vampires because of the bloodsucking or the horror stories. He hated them because they kept increasing the syllabus. Half of their English textbook was filled with vampire stories.
Why do people even believe in stuff like this? There's no such thing as vampires. They're practically creepypastas.
No one actually believed these tales. It was the twenty-first century; people had different mindsets now. The old folks from ancient times claimed to have seen such creatures, but today these stories are mostly just ways to scare kids into staying indoors at night.
Rowan was waiting for his lunch break, which was scheduled to start right after this English lecture.
* * *
It was finally lunch break. Only fifteen minutes, so Rowan had to move fast. He didn't bother with the cafeteria today. He just hit the vending machine, grabbed a pack of chips and a cold can, and dipped before anyone tried starting small talk.
Rowan headed to the audience seats near the football ground. Almost no one came here during lunch, which made it perfect. No crowd, no noise, just wind brushing the grass and the faint sound of distant footsteps. Peace.
"Hey bro!"
A voice called out from behind him. Definitely aimed at him. Rowan turned around and saw a boy he'd never met. The guy looked way too friendly for a stranger, and Rowan could literally feel the "good energy" radiating off him.
"Uh… hey? Do I know you?" Rowan asked.
"Do people need to know each other before talking?" the boy said.
"Kinda impossible to get to know someone if you don't talk, right?"
He didn't even wait for Rowan to respond.
"Anyway! I'm Alistair Crowne. You can call me Alista."
"Umm… hi, Alista. I'm Rowan Ashborne."
"Cool. So… Rowy?"
"No. It's Rowan."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm calling you Rowy. Feels like a good nickname."
"It isn't."
"It is! Nevermind, Rowy. Anyway… did you hear the rumor that a vampire haunts the school basement?"
Alista's eyes lit up like this was the coolest thing ever. Rowan just stared at him, silently questioning how someone could function with a brain that empty.
"Stuff like that doesn't exist," Rowan said, already annoyed. "Someone probably saw a bat and freaked out."
"But what if it's real?"
"It's not. Vampires are fiction."
"Our textbooks talk about them, though," Alista tried again.
"I know. These people made the whole thing feel real. English textbook? Vampires. History? More vampires. Even physics has some vampire example for no reason."
"Wait, seriously? Physics? Isn't that subject just acceleration and gravity?"
"You didn't know that? Aren't you literally in my class?"
Umm… yeah. But I kinda don't pay attention. I only read comics about vampires," Alista admitted, shrugging. Then he added, "By the way, what if we explore the school's underground floor? Just to check the myth."
Rowan nodded, but he still had that responsible-student look."There are lectures after the break. If we bunk, they'll cut our academic marks."
"Who said we're going now? We're going right before sunset. Try not being dumb for once," Alista shot back.
"Okay, fine! So this evening we'll finally know who's right… whether a vampire actually exists or it's just some random school myth.
***
After school, Rowan headed toward his apartment. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from the campus, but today it felt slower. He kept checking the time on his phone. There was still about an hour left before he and Alista were supposed to meet and explore the underground floor.
Eldermoor always looked strange, almost like the whole town was stuck halfway between two different centuries. Most of the major buildings, whether it was the school, the banks, or even the library, had this dark, medieval vibe. Heavy stone, tall arches, old metal gates that creaked even when the wind wasn't strong. Rowan's school especially looked like some brooding castle instead of a place kids were forced to study in.
But once he entered the residential area, everything flipped. The streets were cleaner, the lights brighter, the buildings modern and normal. No creepy statues, no ancient stone carvings staring at you. His apartment block stood right in the middle of all that newness, like a reminder that the rest of Eldermoor was the real odd one out.
He stepped inside, dropped his bag near the sofa, and sat down for a second. The silence made the upcoming plan feel heavier. Just one hour before sunset. One hour before, they checked whether that underground floor was just a dusty rumor or something way older and way more real.
Footsteps echoed softly in the hallway, and Rowan didn't even need to look up to know who it was. His aunt, Maren, eased the door open with that warm, familiar smile she always carried.
"Glad to see you back from school," she said, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. "There's a festival near the Lake of Gravenford this evening. Will you be coming?"
The Lake wasn't just some regular town attraction. It was the place in Gravenford, the one spot everyone in Eldermoor knew by name.
"Yeah… sure," Rowan replied, softer than he intended. "You're the only one who treats me like their own kid, anyway."
Aunt Maren's expression shifted—nothing dramatic, just the kind of tiny smile that showed up when something touched her heart more than she expected.
Rowan's childhood had been stitched together by moments like this. Ever since that supposed car accident that took his parents when he was just a few months old… Maren had stepped in. She wasn't even a blood sibling, just his mother's step-sister, yet she had taken him in without a second thought. She never made him feel like a responsibility, even when life practically forced the role onto her.
She turned to leave, but Rowan—like the world's worst strategist—opened his mouth at exactly the wrong time.
"By the way, I'll be going to school again… in like an hour."
Instant regret slapped him in the face.
Why did I say school? Out of literally every possible excuse?
Maren paused. "Why again? With whom?"
Yeah, no way he could say "I'm going vampire hunting with a guy I met two hours ago."
"Extra lectures… with my new friend, Alistair," Rowan said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
Her eyes softened. "Alright. Just don't change out of your uniform, then. If you're going back, you should go properly dressed."
"Yeah… thanks," Rowan muttered, mentally punching himself for not picking a better lie.
***
Alista waited by the school gate, half-slouched against the stone pillar. The sunset caught his messy, fluffy hair, turning the strands into this soft halo. The sides were cut short in a faint fade, the kind you only notice when the light hits right.
Black hoodie, silver chain, dark grey cargos, sneakers that had seen too much walking. And those trapezium glasses with the thick black frames that somehow made him look both friendly and suspicious at the same time.
Rowan walked up, and Alista's eyes flicked to the uniform. Eldermoor's school uniform wasn't normal by any definition. Long coat, sharp lines, dark fabric that made every step look like a scene from something dramatic. Rowan's hair was black for now, eyes a muted grey-black, and the uniform somehow made him look like he belonged to a world older than the school itself.
"Wait... why are you in a school uniform? I mean, yeah, ours looks cool, but it's not exactly casual wear," Alistair said, squinting at him.
"My bad. I told my aunt I was going to school. I... kinda forgot to mention the whole vampire thing," Rowan replied.
"Right. That explains the cosplay." Alistair shrugged. "Whatever. You ready for vampire hunting?"
Rowan wouldn't have come here if he truly thought vampires were fake. Seeing one for real hit completely different than those sketchy "real vampire caught on camera" videos online.
"Alright then. Let's go," Rowan said, and the excitement slipped through before he could hide it.
They hugged the wall, peeking out like two NPCs glitching behind cover. The guard was still there, legs crossed, scrolling through his ancient phone like he was guarding the gates of heaven instead of a mid-tier school.
"Dude, how do we get past THAT?" Rowan whispered.
Alistair rubbed his face. "We use the most reliable strategy known to mankind… acting stupid."
Rowan stared. "Bro, what—"
But Alistair had already stepped out, wobbling like he'd been poisoned. He threw in a dramatic cough for extra effect. The guard immediately sat up, confused.
"Sir— bathroom— NOW—" Alistair gasped like it was his final moment.
"At this time? What's wrong with you kids?" the guard snapped.
"You want me to blow up THIS area?" Alistair yelled.
The guard instantly pointed toward the opposite building, full panic. While he was busy dealing with Alistair's fake medical emergency, Rowan smoothly slipped behind him, grabbed the key ring off the wall hook, and dipped.
After a minute, Alistair reappeared behind the storage block, looking mildly proud of himself.
"That actually worked?" Rowan whispered.
"Never underestimate strategic stupidity," Alistair said, unlocking the rusted metal door.
The moment they closed it behind them, the air changed. Quiet. Heavy. Like the place had been sealed for years.
The corridor stretched forward, all white tile and darkness, the kind that eats light instead of reflecting it. Their flashlights flickered across stacks of abandoned desks, broken plastic toys, dusty boards from school exhibitions no one remembered.
Rowan kicked a stray bottle. The sound echoed forever. "Bro… this place is basically the school's graveyard."
"Perfect for bloodsuckers," Alistair muttered.
They walked deeper. The corridor narrowed. The air got colder.
At the very end, something hung from the ceiling.
A shape.
Long. Human-ish. Too still. Upside down, arms loose, hair brushing the floor. The kind of silhouette that makes your stomach drop like you just missed a stair in the dark.
Rowan stopped dead. "Tell me that's a mannequin."
The shape twitched. Just a little. Like it was waking up.
They raised their flashlights, hands shaking.
The thing opened its eyes.