To Begin or End?

[Sam Nanten]

(Well, this is done as per request. I doubt it'll really be that sad, but this is really all I can think of doing, even after a full night of deliberation. Eurus, you're beautiful dude. Don't let this thing beat you.)

The muddy brown irises of a young man fluttered open only to register a blackness that was equivically dark as when he merely left his eyelids shut. He awoke with a minor start, his entire body flinching with the shock of what happened to him before he blacked out. His head seemed to be holding a smaller brain which swished about much more freely inside his cranium with even the slightest movement, so even breathing required the indurance of some brief measure of pain. The only thing visible in the whole room was his blanketed sensation of pain, coarsing through his body.

He turned his head to see if he were perchance in a room. As he was lying on a relatively comfortable bed, surely there would be a door along the wall which would signify light from underneath its crack. Alas, there was no inviting source of light anywhere.

And it was so very cold.

What happened to me? Where....

And then, it hit him. Just as the cold bleakness of his reaility over took him, the geometric shapes swept inside his pupils, registering to a perfect, dark gray outline of everything around him, from the decorational vase behind the door to the Romanesque pillar statue propped up in a corner next to the relatively worn bed. This was the third time now that the young man had awakened to this reality without realizing it was not a dream. He was in the vampire caverns. And the two bitemarks on his throat signified that he, too, had become an inhabitant.

(That's all I can type for now, but I'll put some more down in a few hours.)

[Sam Nanten]

(Make-shift disclaimer: Vampires, I'll be taking a few creative liberties in this story, so don't beat me up too bad if I totally slash your character. Or at least avoid the face. )

The door creaked open after a few moments, the hinges rousing an overly-obvious screech to all the vampires in the immediate vicinity. As per usual habits, the young man peeked his head out of his room, carefully examining the carpeted floor and cavernous walls. There was no sign of any windows, and the walls had candles carefully inlaid at every few doors to at least make the enhanced senses slightly less strained. Likely it was a courtesy granted to fresh fledglings such as himself.

Several minutes after studying and treading through the halls, the young man seemed to be gaining a sense of familiarity with his relatively new surroundings. The boy's now leafy locks of hair, though still short, held a more stoic appearance than the somewhat fuzzy head of hair he had while he was still alive. Turning with a slight wince to a tapestry, he still was unable to clearly make it out immediately. His finger pushed on the bridge of his nose - only to find that there were no glasses there. He reached hesitantly into his breast pocket to take out a carrying case for his old Rheams glasses. Glasses he no longer had any need for.

"Are you lost, monseur?" rang out a clear cut yet casually foreign voice, no more than three feet behind the young man. Standing in the nearby candlight with an open book in his hands was a man, perhaps. The fairness of his skin and features were far too meticulous and well maintained to be any normal man, nevermind his almost unnatural beauty. Ivy curls danced down to his shoulders, covered by puffy white sleeves that reached all the way down to his wrists. The old fashioned atire was further reinforced by constricting black pants and a black vest over the shirt.

"You look new to these parts. Have we ever met?"

"No." the young man said, leaning down to retrieve the glasses he dropped in the surprise greeting. "My name.....its Carmaine. Carmaine Weber."

[Sam Nanten]

(Well, time to give this long-neglected story a heart massage. Mai, my muse hopes you're right about this.)

"Carmaine? A fine name for a man such as yourself." spoke the other vampire in his silken accent, now even closer within that next blink of the fledgling's eye. Carmaine's fingers touched against the top of the French man's hand, just above his glasses on the ground. The other man's speed was simply breath-catching. Any assassin in the world would have fell face down in ghastly shock at such an effortless feat from one such as he. His face was inches away from the younger(?) man's face, and the vampire was almost indifferent in his blank expression.

"You have a most troubling pair of eyes. I know fledglings have a rough go of it when they start off, but..." the man lifted his hand and rolled it atop Carmain's, releasing the pair of glasses into his palm. "My name is Jean Claude. Please talk to me if you're having trouble."

"I....sure, of course. Thank you, sir." Carmaine stammered slightly after examining his glasses in lingering awe. He looked up, only to find that Jean was already disappearing down the tunnels. Perhaps it would be ebst for Carmaine to get better aqquainted with the vampires of these caves?

Sighing, Carmaine held up his glasses. There were.....no oils or finger prints on the lenses.

[Sam Nanten]

Victorian furniture, Romanian tapestries, even the walls of the main living area were painted over to avert the original feel of a dank, cold cave. Also the presence of decorational relics such as weathered Greek pillars and sculptures indicated a thickly layered history in this cave, a living time capsule of sorts. It was just like in old vampire novels Carmaine used to read as a human; apparently most vampires weren't too old to indulge in civilized, human-made surroundings. Perhaps this supposed 'human' interest in certain objects separated these creatures from the more horrific, primordial bat demons that the vampires evolved from. It probably reminded them too much of the lycans to be anything otherwise.

There were in fact many vampires that dwelled within this cavern, though it would be hard for one to see that right off the bat. Nearly all these creatures seemed to keep to themselves. Aside from their commonly displayed interest in their surroundings, Carmaine never would have thought of this place as an actual community.

All the vampires Carmaine met were unique in their own quirky eccentricities. Including the gentleman Jean Claude, there was also an odd fellow named Joey Crowe. Aside from boasting the strangest abilites to float around and phase through some forms of matter, he was also the most social and detatched from most sterotypes. Always he would drink tea with some vampires, and sometimes even with humans. The hatter vampire was conclusively a VIP of sorts, so Carmaine decided to hold his reservations on the guy til later.

With all strangers aside, there were, ironically, some vampires that Carmaine had met before.

~//~

[Sam Nanten]

(*Caughs and hacks and stuff* Y'know, I would consider this a relatively pivital point in this story, but I've not seen anyone display any interest. I'm not allergic to feedback, peoples. It gives me extra incentive.)

[Teagan]

I think it's really good. I've just been busy for a while and have only recently read it.

[Sam Nanten]

....Wow, I'm so convinced. Well, I'll try continuing this at the next board.