Hey… this is me, Lucien. I never wanted power, never asked for it. I always dreamed of laughter, of love, of a life that felt simple. But fate… fate has a way of choosing for you. And now, I'll tell you a story — how I got here, to this throne, to this life I never wanted.
The morning started like any other… except I was late. Again. My backpack bounced against my shoulder as I sprinted down the sidewalk, dodging other students and pedestrians. My chest burned, my stomach twisted, and I prayed the bus wouldn't see me weaving like a madman. The city smelled like asphalt and hot garbage, a mix that somehow felt normal at this hour.
"Lucien!" Milo's voice pierced the morning chaos. He was leaning against the school railing, smirking like he'd been waiting just to watch me suffer. "Late again? What, did your alarm clock hate you this morning?"
I skidded to a halt, nearly toppling over. "Hey… it's not my fault the bus ran late!" I panted, trying to sound convincing.
Sarai snorted from behind him. "Uh-huh. Sure, blame the bus. Classic Lucien."
I heard Evelyn laugh softly in the background. That sound… it always had this odd effect on me. Not that I'd admit it.
Inside, the school was alive with the usual chaos. Lockers slammed, laughter bounced off the walls, and the scent of cafeteria breakfast mingled with something sharper — anxiety, maybe, or just the overwhelming rush of teenagers.
I slipped into my classroom, trying not to attract attention. Mr. Hargrove's gaze caught me immediately a sharp, almost judicial stare.
"Ah, Lucien," he said dryly. "Do join the rest of the class before I assign you a seat at the front… permanently."
I mumbled a quiet apology and sank into my chair, hoping the universe would pretend this didn't happen. Milo, of course, leaned over and whispered, "You're lucky I wasn't here to witness your epic morning sprint. I'd have demanded slow motion replay."
Evelyn glanced my way, her faint smile easing the burn of embarrassment just a little. That small smile… it always left a strange warmth, a brief sense that maybe the world wasn't so cruel after all.
The morning dragged on. Algebra, chemistry, literature… each subject a blur of names, numbers, and ideas I pretended to understand. At one point, Sarai nudged me, whispering, "Hey, daydreaming again? You're spacing out more than usual."
I shrugged, unable to explain the odd feeling lingering at the edge of my mind a chill, like someone was watching me. Probably just nerves from being late. That's all.
By lunch, our friend circle gathered under the old oak tree behind the school Milo, Sarai, Jade, and Evelyn. We tossed our backpacks onto the grass and settled in, the warmth of the sun making the ordinary seem… nicer. Milo immediately launched into a ridiculous story about the cafeteria mystery meat, Sarai groaned, and Jade rolled her eyes, though a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Evelyn just leaned back, calm, observing, occasionally laughing at something Milo said.
"So," Milo began, tossing a crumpled chip bag into the grass, "who's brave enough to tell the story about Mr. Hargrove's secret formula?"
Sarai groaned. "Not that one again. You're obsessed."
"Obsessed with truth!" Milo protested. "Anyway, last night, I heard a rumor about the old Whitmore house on the edge of town."
I raised an eyebrow. "The Whitmore house? Isn't that the creepy one everyone says is haunted?"
"Exactly," Milo said, eyes glinting. "Supposedly… vampires were sighted there decades ago. Legend says one still walks the halls at night, hungry for…" He let the sentence hang, wiggling his fingers dramatically.
Jade rolled her eyes. "Seriously? That's just a myth, Milo. Like the ghost in the library or the janitor's haunted mop."
Evelyn chuckled softly. "You have an imagination problem, Milo. Or maybe you just like scaring us."
I laughed nervously, trying to join in, but I couldn't shake the feeling something about the sunlight through the oak leaves, the way the shadows twisted made my skin crawl. For a moment, I thought I saw a figure. Just a shadow moving too fast, too deliberate. I blinked, and it was gone.
Milo nudged me again. "You're awfully quiet. You spacing out again?"
"Uh… yeah, just thinking," I said, forcing a casual tone.
Sarai elbowed me. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little vampire story. Come on, live a little."
Lunch ended with more laughter and playful arguments. We wandered the hallways, lockers slamming, friends teasing, the chatter of other students buzzing around us. Evelyn walked beside me for a few steps, brushing past me casually, and I caught a whiff of her perfume — faint, floral, unmistakably her. My chest tightened again.
Later, in chemistry class, I kept glancing out the window. Something in the air felt off, like a current brushing against my skin. A shadow lingered at the edge of the playground, fleeting, almost imperceptible. I told myself it was imagination. Just a trick of the light. But the unease stayed.
By the time school let out, I was tired, mentally drained from trying to seem ordinary, invisible. I walked home with Milo and Sarai, joking about homework and the absurdity of high school life, but in the back of my mind, the shadow followed me. Watching. Waiting.
Normal life. That's what I wanted. Laughter, friends, maybe… someday… love.
And yet, as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and crimson, I couldn't shake the feeling that my ordinary days were numbered. Something was coming. Something that would rewrite everything I thought I knew about myself… about life… about fate.