A teen is stunned to discover he's half-vampire. Will being asexual-aromantic thwart bloodlust, or are there other emotions strong enough to trigger murder?
*******
Natsu anxiously follows his mentally-ill mother's rules, forcing himself to be an em...
Dawn has a pulse; she seems to be just unconscious. So, I take a risk.
I don't call Sergius because my shame is too great. Already, things haven't happened the way they typically do. Usually, a bite would cause immediate death. But Dawn was walking. Dawn was talking. Dawn just seems to be sleeping. She'll be fine. Will she be fine?
I lift her into my arms and carry her back to the room then lay her on the bed. My mind is running marathons, trying to reason what's happening and decide the next course of action.
Is it possibly because I'm half-human? Maybe the enzyme is weak and won't kill her. Perhaps it will only make her unconscious for a while. I then recall during Sergius' first monologue about vampires, he mentioned that there are Nativus descendants of the Patient Zero―the Nativus who spawned the Transformatis race. That means there's a chance that I could be one of those, right? And Dawn won't die―but instead will become Transformatis.
I'm counting on any of these possibilities, especially the first―that she'll wake up in a few hours as if waking up from a nap and she'll still be human―she'll still be Dawn.
Considering how she was walking and talking after the bite, that's the most logical deduction. So no one has to know. No one has to know the truth of what happened. Not Sergius. Not my father. Not Dawn.
So I lie beside Dawn, placing my head near her chest so I can hear her heartbeat—make sure it's still going.
And I wait.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
I open my eyes.
Bold colors are everywhere, reds as deep as the afternoon sun and whites so blindingly bright.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
I suck in my breath, and all the people are visible. They're bustling back and forth on the Western streets, chatting, their eyes wide in excitement or squinted through laughter.
I turn to my left and see fabric, intricately embroidered. I follow the green lines, the pink ones, the blue ones. My eyes unfocus, and I squint. They regain focus to take in the lush cherry blossom branches, falling petals, calm springs, and cranes. For a moment, I think I can hear the nature sounds.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
I'm startled by deep laughter and look to my right and see more fabric. The lines make clouds. As I follow the patterns, I realize that my right hand is suspended above my head. And I see another hand in it—a bigger hand with warm ivory skin, heavy and masculine.
"Natsu," I hear from my left. I quickly look over and see a familiar face.
"Natsu, you dropped your crane." Crouched down, she smiles warmly and hands me an origami bird. I take it from her hand. "Are you having fun?"
