The Illusion of Control

Chapter One: Leighton

Seven Years Later

I stood at the doorstep of what most people, vampire or otherwise, would consider the most infamous building in Kansas, or possibly all of America, gathering my courage.

The building was known to humans as the Lovell Institute for Unique Illnesses; it was known to us, however, as the Lovell Vampirism Research Center.

The Cure Center. That was what everyone called it either way.

"They can fix me," I mumbled to myself, running a hand through my hair and making it stick up. "They're going to fix me."

I stared at the door. It was tall, wooden, and stained a rich black. There were no designs on it; it shouldn't have been as intimidating as it was.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The inside of the Cure Center was bright and cheerful, with red, black, and white checkered floors, a red-carpeted staircase on one side of the room, and a large receptionist's desk the same color as the door on the other.

A nurse smiled at me cheerfully from behind the desk. "Good evening, sir. What can I do for you?"

I hesitated, stepping toward the desk. "I..." I closed my eyes and smiled—well, grimaced—letting the Illusion hiding my fangs fall away. "I'd like to volunteer."

The nurse nodded knowingly. "What's your name?"

"Leighton Locke."

She pulled out a folder, placing a hand on it in a way that almost seemed protective. "Alright, I'll get you the paperwork, and someone'll be coming to get your physical done soon if you would like to take a seat."

I smiled at her gratefully, not bothering to put the illusion back up. No one would care here. That was what they were here for. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. We appreciate it more than you can imagine." The nurse smiled at me one last time before looking down and picking up a paper of some sort.

I turned and stepped toward the row of seats in the middle of the room, trying to force myself to relax.

I knew that wouldn't work from years of trying, seven years of doing anything to make the nerves stop...

"No," I whispered out loud, closing my eyes as I slowly sank into a chair. "That's done."

I wasn't going to think about...that.

They could fix me.

They were going to fix me.

It was going to stop for good.

I felt a sudden urge to bolt, to run away and never come back—I could still have my secret, my thoughts whispered, if I wanted to. I could keep drinking blood...human blood...keep murdering people...

I shook my head hard. It wasn't worth it. My peace of mind wasn't worth others' lives.

So I instead called up a memory that was, in a twisted way, my favorite; waking up on the beach, clinging to my gasping, sobbing, half-drowned brothers, magically alive and pretending we would magically be safe as long as we were together, as long as we had our last memories...

"Mr. Locke?" A voice drifted over from the stairs, and I glanced that direction; an older woman wearing a doctor's coat stood on the bottom step, smiling at me serenely. "We're ready for you."

I blinked. "No...paperwork?"

"She'll bring it up later."

"Oh. Alright." I shrugged a little and stood, heading towards the doctor.

She grinned at me, and I was surprised to see that she had fangs as well. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Locke. My name is Dr. Lucia Lovell."

"As in...the founder of the Cure Center." My eyes widened a little. I hadn't been expecting her to greet new volunteers, although I wasn't sure why, now that I thought about it.

"The one and only." Her grin widened into a smirk. "Anyway. You were volunteering for testing? Follow me this way, please." Dr. Lovell started briskly up the stairs.

I obeyed, glancing around as we reached a hallway at the top of the stairs.

"In this room," the doctor said, gesturing at a door as we approached the end of the hall.

I stepped inside, and she stepped in after me, closing the door.

The room was small, unlike any other hospital I'd seen, and bright white. I guessed this room was specifically for running physicals on volunteers...privately.

The doctor sat in a large chair across from me and gestured for me to sit as well, picking up a clipboard from a table next to her.

"Let's begin your physical," Dr. Lovell said cheerfully as I sat down, tapping her pencil on the page. "We're going to test your resistance to Illusions. Ready?"

I frowned, tensing, but nodded. I had always been good at dispelling the stupid pranks Bennett would try to trick me with; if I could manage even the minor Illusions of a Creator, surely this would be no problem.

"I'm going to make it very dark," the doctor said calmly. "And you are going to fight it...now."

My world went black, and I instantly reversed it, willing my eyes to see past the Illusion.

Dr. Lovell looked impressed. "Not many can fight me on that so easily. Let's try again."

I blinked, and when I opened my eyes it was dark. Again?

I dispelled the darkness with a little more effort, and it immediately came back.

"You're a hard one to manage, Leighton," the doctor said, almost sounding amused if it weren't for the hint of something darker in her voice as I tried to fight the Illusion again. "I thought I got rid of you already, but here you are again!"

I felt my head slump to the side, and found I couldn't move my hands. "What—"

"You don't remember me?" She laughed softly. "Oh, well. I'll give you something to remember."

I felt a sharp, aching pain in my neck and hissed—so this was what it was like, I realized. What I had done to so many other people—and felt myself getting more and more faint.

"And soon," I eventually heard Dr. Lovell say through the darkness, "you'll be truly gone."