Dorian's Destiny: Altered Read online

“Yes,” Dorian replied, once his coughing fit had subsided.

  “Come on then, let's get out of pool. Don't know about you, but I've had quite enough of this awkward moment,” Thomas revealed as he exited the pool. Seeing Dorian hesitating, he added. “If it'll help, I'll turn my head while you get out and redress.” He turned his head after receiving a sheepish nod from Dorian. “You can just leave your towel on the floor.”

  Dorian felt odd about leaving behind a mess, but he did as instructed, and once redressed, followed Thomas into the kitchen.

  “I keep a supply of blood handy in case I can't get out.” Thomas opened one door of an enormous silver fridge; a stark contrast against the almost completely white kitchen. He pulled out one of many jars lining half the shelves and offered it to Dorian, who eyed it suspiciously.

  “It's not human, if that's what you're wondering,” assured Thomas. “When I knew you would be a house guest, I made a stop by a local butcher. This might be pig, but I'm not sure.” He held the jar up to his face as if trying to determine its source. “Guess next time I could get the butcher to label them. Do you have a preference?”

  Shaking his head, Dorian finally accepted the offered blood and drank while Thomas retrieved another container from a different shelf for himself.

  As the cold blood skimmed his tongue, Dorian gagged, almost spitting it back out.

  “Sorry, I know it tastes horrible cold, but it beats starving. How about a grand tour of my humble abode?”

  The grand tour was anything but grand, given Thomas' tendency to bore easily. Within five minutes, he had resorted to just spouting off what the property consisted of. “There's a stable, gardens, blah, blah, blah...don't hesitate to explore for yourself. Nothing is off limits for my house guests.” As he spoke, Dorian dutifully followed, until they finally ended up in a room located in what appeared to be the center of the house. As he entered the room, Dorian had no idea it would soon become his favorite room in the house; his sanctuary, a place he would spend hours.

  “This is the library,” Thomas declared, his arms outstretched, showcasing the amazing space. All four walls of the room where lined with bookshelves reaching floor to ceiling. The only space without books was the elaborate fireplace.

  Dorian walked over to the nearest shelf and carefully caressed the richly bound books resting there, allowing their musty odor to fill his nostrils. If he had first woken up here, he would have been convinced he was in Heaven.

  Thomas interrupted his admiration. “Come have a seat with me by the fire. As I promised in the forest, I will try to enlighten you on your condition.”

  Barely able to pull himself away from the shelves, the need for understanding won out. Dorian took a seat in a brown leather chair opposite Thomas. A low lit fire provided ambient light and soothing warmth.

  “You mentioned the word vampire to me in the forest, saying it was an enhanced species. I have never heard such a word,” Dorian stated, eager to get the information that had eluded him for months.

  “No, I don't suppose you would, given your upbringing. I will do my best to explain what a vampire is, as well as answer any questions this knowledge invokes.” He rose from his chair and casually walked over to a nearby table lined with glasses and various containers filled with different colored liquids. “Would you like a drink? It will help you relax.”

  “Sure. You did say I earned plenty of self-indulgence from my stint in the forest.” Dorian responded with a shy smile.

  “Yes, I did, and as you will soon learn, I am quite the advocate for self-indulgence, earned or not.” Thomas returned Dorian's smile with a wicked one. After pouring two glasses halfway with amber liquid, he made his way back to the fireplace. “Have you ever drunk Scotch before?” He handed Dorian the glass. “It's my personal favorite.”

  “No,” replied Dorian as he accepted the offered drink.

  “Well, this is a day of firsts for you,” Thomas teased, bringing his glass up to tap Dorian's. “Cheers to many more firsts.”

  “Cheers,” Dorian softly repeated.

  “Now, where to begin,” Thomas pondered, lifting the glass to his lips. After taking a large gulp, he began. “As I already told you, we are both vampires. The best way to explain what that is, will be to begin with what it’s not, and that is human.”

  The Scotch, Dorian had just sipped, erupted from his mouth, splattering himself and Thomas. He knew he had changed, but hearing he was no longer human was difficult to take in. Covering his mouth in shock, he whispered, “I'm sorry.”

  “Well, I see that revelation was a bit of a shock.” Thomas grimaced, wiping his pants with linen retrieved from the table. “You had to know you were different...altered.”

  Dorian nodded, having used those exact words when he left home.

  “Now, if you promise to keep your drink inside your mouth, I'll continue.” Thomas smirked as he handed Dorian the linen. After receiving a nod and inhaling an even larger gulp of Scotch, he began again. “I consider us an enhanced species above humans – which are an excellent source of food and entertainment. Vampires crave blood; it's the only sustenance we need to survive, although I still enjoy satisfying my former human needs too. Most of our senses are heightened: Smell, sight, hearing. They enable us to be better hunters I suppose. We also possess retractable fangs and claws, which tend to react to our emotions. All of that, you probably already knew. Oh, and our eyes turn red when responding to the same stimulus as our fangs and claws.”

  Dorian did know all of what he had just been told, except for the red eyes. He hadn't seen his reflection since leaving home.

  Feeling like he wasn't getting a thorough explanation of his current state of being, he began his questioning, “How does one become a vampire?” He needed to know the how and why, not just what, and he hoped Thomas' answers to his questions would finally fill in those blanks.

  “To become a vampire, you must be drained of blood to the point of death and then ingest vampire blood.”

  “So, I guess the vision I had of being stabbed was when it happened,” Dorian spoke more to himself than Thomas, “but I don't remember drinking any blood. Do you have an explanation for my lack of memory? Is that common?”

  “I have no explanation for your memory loss other than maybe your brain thought it too painful for you and was trying to spare you. As for being common, I have no idea.”

  “Do you remember?” He asked thinking maybe details about Thomas' experience might jog his own memory.

  “If you're asking do I remember being turned then, yes, I do.” Thomas reluctantly answered before turning toward the fireplace to avoid Dorian's questioning gaze. He appeared nervous about where the conversation was going.

  “Well?” Dorian prodded him to elaborate.

  “Well, it wasn't pleasant, so it's a good thing you have a mental block,” Thomas retorted without turning from the flames.

  “Maybe,” Dorian sighed. Sensing Thomas wouldn't elaborate, he moved on. “Do you know who turned you?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. Shifting in his seat and unable to get comfortable, he knew what the next question would be.

  Dorian sat on the edge of his seat, hopeful one of the largest blanks of his ordeal was about to be filled in. “Do you know who turned me?”

  There it was. The one question Thomas dreaded most and was least prepared for. He hesitated, debating whether to answer the question truthfully. Basing his response on Dorian's unhappiness at being turned, he knew naming the culprit wouldn't help his evolution. “No.” The lie slipped from his tongue with ease; the first of many.

  Disappointed, Dorian sat back in his seat. He had longed for the name of the one to blame for ruining his life. “Would I recognize who'd turned me if I met them?”

  “I doubt it.” Thomas turned back to his house guest to gauge his reaction to his next question. “Besides, what would you do if you met him or her?”

  “Ask them why,” Dorian blurted out. Beyond that, he wasn't sure what he would d
o, but the anger welling inside him over the prospect of a confrontation, suggested it wouldn't be good.

  “And then?” Thomas inquired continuing to study Dorian's expressions.

  Dorian shook his head.

  “Well, I sense it would not be to thank them, so meeting your maker would probably not be the best idea. They might be offended you don't appreciate their gift.” Thomas sipped his Scotch, attempting to calm his nerves.

  “Gift?” Dorian spat angrily.

  Ignoring his anger, Thomas answered obviously. “Yes, I consider being turned a gift.”

  Dorian couldn't fathom his curse could be considered a gift. However, he sought information so instead of accusing his host of insanity, he breathed out his anger and moved on. “Is there a cure?”

  This question enraged Thomas, but he kept it from showing.

  He has not fully embraced his new self, so don’t rip his head off yet.

  “Not that I am aware of and I don't understand why you would want to be 'cured' from our gift. We are immortal and cannot be killed since we possess the ability to heal – which you found out the hard way,” Thomas answered smoothly, pleased with himself for keeping his usually volatile emotions in check.

  Dorian furrowed his brow, unsure what he was insinuating.

  “I feel as though I should come clean and tell you that I spied on you for quite some time before making my presence known. I have to admit, I rather enjoyed parts of the show. I was blown away by the suicide attempt. That was quite a valiant act to mutilate yourself like that. Bravo,” Thomas applauded.

  Dorian wrung his hands; anxious at the mention he had been watched. “How long did you spy on me?”

  “About six months, on and off,” Thomas replied casually as if his invasion of Dorian's privacy was no big deal. “Sorry if that bothers you. I was curious to see how you would progress on your own. When it became clear that you had plateaued, I decided it was time to come out of hiding.”

  “Exactly what did you witness?” Dorian demanded, getting heated at Thomas' apparent lack of respect for what he considered some profoundly personal moments.

  “What does it matter?” Thomas shrugged. “Basically, I observed lots of emotional purging.” He rose from his chair. “Anyway, I'm going hunting. Would you care to join me?”

  “NO.” Dorian answered curtly.

  Picking up on his change in mood, Thomas responded in kind. “Suit yourself,” continuing with a much friendlier tone, “browse any of the books in my library. Some contain information regarding our kind. However, keep in mind, most are merely myths and folktales meant to scare children. If you find anything of interest, I will be happy to confirm or deny its validity when I return.”

  Walking out the door of the library, he turned around abruptly. “Oh, I almost forgot. My staff is human, and will return in the morning. Please refrain from killing any of them. Good help is so hard to find.” With that, he was gone, leaving Dorian alone with thousands of books. He felt Thomas was holding back and not divulging all he knew, so he hoped he would uncover useful information in one of the numerous books.

  Starting to the right of the fireplace, he scanned the shelves, searching for titles that might describe his condition. Finally, after eliminating half the library, Dorian stumbled upon a book entitled “Monsters and Beasts”. Plucking the thick book from the shelf, he ran his index finger down its Table of Contents, searching for the word ‘vampire’, Thomas had mentioned. “Chapter 66, Vampire, Page 528. How many types of abominations are there?”

  A harrowing thought formed as he stared at the expansive list. “If I exist, how many more of these do as well?”

  Since being turned, Dorian's view of the world had changed dramatically, and this new revelation further distorted his indoctrinated beliefs. “This world is far uglier than I once deemed, but I can't dwell on that. I need to learn more about what I am.”

  Sitting by the fireplace, he read the eight pages that constituted his new existence. Most of it, Thomas had already told. “History, Becoming a Vampire, Vampire Characteristics. Ah! Destroying a Vampire. I knew he was holding back information. He considers this damnation a gift. Of course, he wouldn't share potential methods of destroying his kind. So, either a wooden stake through the heart or silver can end my existence.”

  Dorian considered what he had just read. Although he didn't find the cure he hoped for, he did find a potential way out. He eyed the legs of the mahogany table sitting beside him. He doubted something so simple could do him in when a knife through his heart did nothing. Besides, how would he explain to his host the destruction of his fine furnishings should the wood prove as fruitless as his knife? Silver, however, seemed promising.

  Returning the book to the shelf, he left the library and entered the kitchen. The book mentioned that silver would burn his skin and prevent his healing ability. Not knowing how to recognize silver utensils from steel, Dorian decided he would open each drawer and touch every silver-colored object inside, if need be.

  Thirty minutes passed as he purposefully touched every piece of silver in Thomas' kitchen; each time, the small glimmer of hope he let spark inside him was snuffed out. Finally shutting the final drawer, he slid down to the cold floor. He slammed his head against the white cabinet, hating himself for being stupid.

  “I should have known nothing would work. I'm destined to endure this curse for all eternity.” Placing his head in his hands, he only let one tear fall before pulling himself up off the floor. “I didn't ask for this curse. There is no reason for me to continue to try to destroy myself.”

  With that statement in mind, he went back to the library, this time to enjoy himself.

  Chapter 5

  Evolution

  Months passed as Thomas allowed Dorian to slowly assimilate to his new surroundings. He hoped that being removed from the forest and having the guidance of another of his kind would stimulate Dorian's ascension to becoming a proper vampire. He soon discovered this was not going to be the case. Dorian seemed content to remain stagnant by feeding only on the blood of animals. He had even given up hunting; relying solely on the stock Thomas provided.

  Tired of his reluctance to climb the evolutionary ladder, Thomas decided to assist him by introducing a catalyst. He found Dorian reading alone in the study. This tended to be his only extracurricular activity as of late.

  Thomas entered the library, carrying two wineglasses filled with blood. “I thought you might like drinking from something a little more refined than a jar,” he suggested as he sat down opposite Dorian.

  “Thanks,” replied Dorian, momentarily looking up from the tome he was engrossed in to accept the offered glass. Immersing himself back into this latest volume, he had consumed half the blood before noticing its effects. His body's reaction to the substance was far more intense. He could fill it coursing through his veins, strengthening his muscles, and heightening his senses.

  “Thomas, what did you do?! Is this human blood?!” Dorian demanded holding up the half empty glass.

  “Yes” Thomas said nonchalantly, not bothered by Dorian's harsh tone.

  “I thought I told you I wasn't ready to drink human blood!” He seethed, barely controlling his anger. It was strong enough to shatter the glass still in his hand.

  “I know what you told me, Dorian, but you were taking too long. I thought you might never be ready, so I decided to help you along. You're welcome, by the way. Can't you feel the power? You are never going to become what you are meant to be by drinking animal blood.”

  “It should be my decision!!! Maybe I like what I am now! Has that thought ever crossed your erratic mind?!” Dorian yelled while placing the wineglass carefully on the side table, desperately resisting the urge to throw it in his face.

  Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “No. I don't understand why anyone would not want to reach their full potential. You are quite an enigma.”

  “You are such an arrogant ass!” Dorian's eyes flashed red, while his claws and teeth exte
nded. Unable to contain the anger inside him caused by Thomas' total disregard for his wishes, he lunged from his chair. He allowed the increased speed and strength given from the blood to propel him at Thomas before he could to react. The force of the attack sent them backwards into one of the bookshelves.

  “Dorian, you don't want to fight me,” Thomas hissed before shoving and sending him back across the room to crash into the opposite bookshelf. “Now go finish your pouting in your room!” He barked as he walked out of the study.

  Dorian did as he was told, not to appease Thomas, but to finish his tirade in private.

  Who does he think he is? My destiny is my own, and no one else’s. I will evolve if and when I want too, not when he dictates.

  He paced back and forth beside his massive bed; his rage not lessening, but increasing, bubbling up like a geyser ready to explode.

  The glass he had picked up to throw across the room burst in his hands. Shards of glass sliced open his hand. A few drops of blood splashed to the floor before his hand healed itself.

  How did that happen? I was barely gripping that glass. Has my strength increased that much? Maybe Thomas was right. I do feel more powerful. Damn him! I wasn't ready.

  Finally leaving his room after hours of fuming, Dorian found him at the scene of the crime. Thomas sat by the fireplace sipping on his drink of choice, Scotch. He took the chair across from him. When Thomas finally acknowledged his presence, after several minutes of awkward silence, Dorian spoke the words Thomas expected. “I want more.”

  “Well of course you do,” Thomas crowed as he rose from his chair with an 'I told you so' look across his face. “Let's go baptize you.”

  *****

  During the car ride into the city, Thomas bombarded Dorian with questions. “So, who would you like to be your first victim?”

  Dorian cringed at the choice of words. “Please don't call them that,” he pleaded.

  “Fine,” huffed Thomas, “but seriously, what kind of blood are you in the mood for? Male, female, young, old, black, white – the possibilities are endless.”