Calixto was 'killed' by his own father and was betrayed by the woman he loves. Hundred years later, he was woken up by the same blood of the woman who betrayed him. Will he seek revenge or will he fall all over again?
The night breeze entered the opened window of the library where Calixto hid away from the party that his father threw for some celebration that he had just made up to have an excuse to have a party. He thought it was extremely unnecessary. He can throw a party and no one would care if there was a reason for it or not.
For night creatures like them, that had been walking this world longer than other human beings, they needed a distraction or else they would get easily bored. Forever wasn't appealing if you have nothing interesting to do. Hence, the nonsensical party every now and then was somewhat important. However, as years and years passed by, it too could lose its appeal.
The carnal desires, the insatiable thirst for blood, and the urge to be seen as superior creatures can be a bore. It all became nothing but a shallow imitation of life that they had lost because of their curse to roam this land till the time was immaterial.
He heaved a deep sigh and turned his chair to face the open window. It's a full moon. The majestic moon adorned the night sky brought a smile on his lips that had been sighing as though life was treating him badly which was not the case.
Ever since he remembered, he always had everything he had ever wanted except walking under the sun. He flinched when a small voice in his head whispered. 'You can walk under the sun. Just give me what I want.'
"No," he whispered as he stared at the moon.
He should not wish to walk under the sun for he knew that when that happened, everything would settle into dust. And right now, it's the last thing that he wanted because he has a woman that he likes.
A smile tore his lips with the image of the woman. His father would not agree for him to marry her but he would not be able to do anything if he was no longer under his wing. He would build his own family, draw his own set of rules, and live his life one with the world. He doesn't want to live his immortal life in this old musty castle brimming with his pompous relatives.
He already had something planned and he was just waiting for an opportunity to speak to his father. He needed to talk to him without other ears, listening.
He closed his eyes and turned his ears to the chatter of the party. Based on what he was hearing, the party is now in full swing. The familiar snarling floated in the air and he knew that the main course was now being served.
He hated those. The drinking of blood merged with orgies for apparently taking one's blood in the throes of passion was a different kind of high. He had no idea if it was just another justification for showing off that those mere mortals were nothing but a meal and a warm body to satiate hunger and boredom.
He was still in deep thoughts when he got a whiff of a delicious aroma floating in the air. Not the disgusting coppery scent of blood from the party hall.
This one has the smell of a flower that just blooms on the first rain of spring. This particular smell is something that he can't refuse. It muffled his senses and brought him god-like feelings.
He inhaled a deep breath in anticipation. He closed his eyes and counted the tentative steps the owner of those wondrous feet were taking. His head was full of memories of the lithe and pale woman who sat in his lap, sluggish from loss of blood. Few streaks of red liquid drip from two pinholes on top of the throbbing pulse on her long neck. His groin tightened as he felt his fangs elongated with anticipation.
In this moment of bloodlust, he wondered if his older cousins weren't lying to him when they whispered in his ears how wonderful the rush of lust and blood was. That he was missing a lot because he was such a prude. A goody two shoes bastard who judged everyone with their extreme fondness of taking human life, with no regard to the family that was left behind.
He was pulled back to the present when two soft knocks hit the thick oak door of the library.
"Young Master, your father sent me."
He closed his eyes and groaned. He hated this part. The reminder that she came because she was told.
He wished her to come to him in her own accord but no, she would only come whenever his father allowed her to be because she was one of their blood slaves.
His father's most acclaimed possession. A discovery that until now he never stopped bragging to anyone that would bother to listen about a family that he discovered to have a different kind of blood from other mortals.
A sweet kind of blood that no vampire could ever refuse. A rare of its kind. Thus, his father never allowed any of them to be killed and they live in the castle away from everyone. His father was the only one who could decide who would bite and suck their blood.
His father gained favor and accumulated wealth through the years because of these special mortals.
And since he is his father's only son, he could drink the special mortal's blood. And his father has this strange notion in his head that the special blood has powers. And since he turned, his father never allowed him to drink blood other than from these special mortals.
He has no problem with it. He drinks their blood because it was needed sustenance for him to survive. A meal. Until he met the woman who was waiting for his word from the other side of the door.
"Young Master?"
The girl creased her eyebrows as she gripped the hem of her blouse nervously. Ever Since this task fell into her responsibility, she never ceased to be nervous around the young master for he never speaks a whole lot.
"Come in."
Hearing the deep voice from the other side of the door, she exhaled another deep breath to expel the nervousness she had been feeling.
Her arms ached a little when she pushed the thick and heavy door of the library, wondering why the young master kept himself here, away from the rest of the family.
"You're early. Have you eaten?"
She grimaced inwardly as she shook her head. Her gaze was on the floor. She had to bite her lower lip to stop the nervous laugh that was threatening to escape her mouth.
This young master is surely a weird one. Why was he asking if she had already eaten when she came here to be eaten?