Another story with my characters Lagatto and Neculai (Neculai being Lagatto’s father). This story came about during a game of Truth or Drabble (which is truth or dare played with characters and for the dare you have to write the thing out as a drabble or short story). Lagatto was dared to go see his dad because he hates him. So that’s how this happened.
All characters belong to me.
I approach the dark mansion my father dwells within, my footsteps slow, a knot in my stomach. I can’t do this, why is she making me do this? I feel sick. I just want to go back home and read. But… a dare is a dare.
I climb onto the doorstep and realize that I’m actually shaking. I never realized how much I truly hated my father until this very moment. God, I’m going to get her for making me do this. I raise a shaking arm and make to knock on the door, but it opens before I can even touch it.
“Lagatto, my son! This is so unexpected, so very unexpected! What are you doing here?” My father stands there with a wide grin plastered across his face. He’s surprised, yes, but his joy at seeing me overcomes his surprise.
I swallow hard and mutter, “I… I’m here to… a-ask if you would like to… have a father/son” – I nearly puke at saying this part – “get together or whatever.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his grin faded. “This wasn’t your idea, was it?”
“Ah, I see. You were playing that game again and someone dared you to do this?” I nod weakly. His grin returns. “Well, I would have preferred to have heard you actually wanted to do this with me, but this is good, too! You’re spending time with me, and that’s what matters, right?”
“Honestly, I’d rather be dead,” I mutter. He either doesn’t hear me or decides to ignore that comment. He throws an arm around my neck and pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind us.
“What shall we do, then, son? Oh, do you have a bloodslave yet?”
“No,” I growl.
“What about a girlfriend?”
“No!” I snarl. “Stop trying to butt into my personal life. You know I don’t drink and you know I don’t care about romance in any way, shape, or form. So stop trying to make me change with all your little suggestions.”
He blinks at me and for a moment I think he’s actually considering taking me seriously for once. What an idiot I am to ever think such a thing. He pats me on the shoulder and whispers in my ear, “You just haven’t found someone to excite you enough yet.”
“Oh, god,” I mutter, feeling sick yet again.
“Not to worry, though, I have just the solution for you!” He grabs me by the shoulder and leads me down the hall. Not to worry, he says, but I’m worrying even worse than before.
He drags me to the servant’s wing of the house and stops in a little parlor room of sorts. “All right, girls, come on out!”
Several scantily clad women with far too much makeup around their eyes and lips walk out, waving their hips in what I assume is supposed to be a provocative way. They all stand in a line, making what I again assume are supposed to be attractive poses.
“Well, son, what do you think? Any of them strike your fancy?”
“No,” I say bluntly. A couple of the girls make faces as if offended by what I said.
“Oh, come on, Lagatto! You’re just saying that because you don’t want to admit it!” He glances toward them and says, “Don’t worry, girls, you’re all beautiful, he’s just an idiot!” They perk up at this. I grunt lightly.
“Father, I want no part of this,” I growl.
“Ohhh, he’s your son?” one of the girls say, venturing forward. “You two look nothing alike.”
“Thank God for that,” I growl.
“Yes, well…” He folds the girl into his arms, grinning down at her and lightly touching her chin. “He didn’t inherit my good looks, it’s true, but I’m sure if you pulled that big overcoat off of him, you’d find something you liked.”
“Father!” I snarl. He cackles in response. Again, for the third time, I feel sick.
“Now then, Lagatto, I want you to watch carefully. You really do look pale, more than you should. You haven’t been drinking enough.”
“I don’t need to drink to survive,” I growl.
“Yes, but it’s healthy for you. Maybe you just don’t know how, so I’ll show you.” He turns back to the girl, he smiles up at him, then tilts her head back to expose more of her neck. He begins kissing it, then sinks his large fangs into her flesh. I shudder and turn away. I knew there were some humans who actually enjoyed the bite of a vampire and would willingly give their blood, but I still can’t understand it, even after seeing it for myself.
One of the other girls, who looks younger than the rest, tentatively steps toward me. “Would you like to feed?” she asks. “Or maybe you’re shy? We can go somewhere where we can be alone.”
“I do not wish to feed upon you or anyone else,” I say in a stiff tone. “And I don’t think you should be so willing to give your blood away.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes showing… concern? Why? I take a small step away from her, but something else strikes me about her. Her black hair, her pale skin, her bright blue eyes. She looks just like… her.
“Excuse me,” I say quickly and turn away, running out of the room toward the nearest restroom. I slam the door shut and lock it, then bend over the toilet and start to retch. Three times sick, fourth time actually happens.
It feels like a long time I spend in there, bile burning my throat as it comes up. There’s a knock on the door and I hear my father’s voice. “Son, what’s the matter? Are you feeling alright?”
“What does it sound like?” I shout hoarsely before retching again. I feel light in the head. Sweat drips down my face and neck. Is this ever going to stop?
“Lagatto…” His voice is closer and not muffled by the door between us, meaning he’s come through. Wait, there it is again. Concern. More bile comes up and I instantly stop worrying about the presence of my father.
He rests his hand on my back and begins rubbing it. For a moment I think it might be helping, but then an even worse pain shoots through me and I retch again, but it isn’t bile that comes out. Salty, metallic, red.
“Lagatto, for God’s sake!” He pulls me away from the toilet and presses a handkerchief over my mouth, wiping away the blood. “Has this happened before?”
“No,” I murmur weakly. “Never.”
He gazes at me, his eyes wide with concern – but why – and then he presses something into my hands. “Drink, it will do you good.”
I glance down and see the blood transfusion pack he handed to me. I have drank from these before, but I stopped a while ago. Maybe this is why I got sick. Maybe… or maybe it was him.
“Go on, drink it. It will make you feel better.”
I sigh shakily and pull up the tube as if it were a straw, and begin ingesting it. It soothes me as it trickles down my throat. I close my eyes and drink it slowly, breathing softly.
“Lagatto, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly. Please?” His voice sounds actually sincere for once.
I let out a shaky sigh and murmur, “Fine.”
“Has there ever been anyone you cared deeply about?”
I start at this. It sounds like he’s asking me if I ever had a girlfriend, but the way he worded it is more… careful. I consider my answer for a time, still drinking the blood, then whisper, “Once.”
“A girl?” I nod slowly. “And she died?”
After a long pause, I nod again. “Not of old age or disease or anything,” I murmur. “She died protecting us…”
“Us?” He tilts his head to the side.
“Me, a werewolf, and a little girl. She died… to save us.”
“You know you can’t die, though, Lagatto.”
I snarl and slam my fist on the tile floor. “I know that! But she didn’t!” The tile cracks under my hand, crumbling into dust. I turn my face away, letting out a deep breath. “Why do I exist?”
“Why am I here? I was born hundreds of years ago, I should have died then, too. Why am I here? Why was I given this curse of eternal life?”
“Why do you call it a curse?”
“Because that’s what it is! All I want to do is die, but I don’t grow old, I can’t get sick, hell, nothing can even kill me! I thought I could starve myself from the blood, but it turns out that doesn’t kill me either, it just make me weak and it makes the hunger grow worse and worse in an attempt to turn me into a monster.”
There’s a slight pause, but then he ventures to say, in a quiet voice, “But you’ve overcome that hunger. You’ve never turned into a monster, have you?”
“Once,” I whisper, closing my eyes tightly. “But I overcame it for the sake of a little girl, and any time it threatens to take me again, I picture her and have the strength to push that monster away.”
He pats my shoulder. “You know, son, I think you’re right. We’ll never be able to understand each other. But I would like it if you could come visit me more often. But don’t worry, I won’t bother you with questions of bloodslaves or mates anymore.”
I blink lightly and murmur, “Thank you.”
He nods and smiles at me. “Now go run on back to your friends, I’m sure they’re waiting for you to return victorious from that awful dare they made you do.”
“Er, y-yeah. Right.” I stand slowly, still a little shaky, and turn to him. “…thank you.”
He blinks in surprise then smiles. “I love you, son.”
I don’t respond to this. Instead, I walk through the locked door and leave the mansion, sipping up the last drops in the pack and disposing of it once it’s empty. I’m still not so sure I could return those sentiments to him.
My friends. Yeah, I’ve had friends before. I just wish they’d stop leaving. Stop growing old. Stop getting sick and dying. Stop… leaving me alone. Or at the very least, I wish I could join them, wherever they are now.