57: 57 The Predator's Past (2) (AVOT)

57 The Predator's Past (2) (AVOT)

Year 1361 

Rhain loomed over the frail form of his brother, ensconced in the sickly pallor of the bed he had been bound to. "Roy, I have found your cure," he announced, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.

"Can it make me walk? Can it set me free from this cage of bones and flesh?" Roy's gaze was feverish, his entire existence was narrowed down to this one desperate hope.

"Yes," Rhain affirmed, casting a side glance at the vampire Lysander standing in the room's shadows.

Roy followed his gaze, eyes alighting on the ancient being. "What will you do to me?"

"Kill you." Lysander said ominous. "Are you prepared to embrace death for the chance to walk again?" His tone was as cold as his gaze.

"I am ready to pay any price," Roy rasped, his eyes smoldering with resolve. "Just... free me from this torment. I cannot endure this existence any longer."

Lysander nodded, a slow, measured motion. He shifted his gaze to Rhain. "It might be best if you excuse yourself. What follows will not be easy to witness."

"No!" Rhain was immediate in his refusal. "I need to be here for him."

"It will be a spectacle of pain and suffering," Lysander warned.

"Pain is no stranger to us. I have witnessed my brother's torment since the day my memory first took form," Rhain reminded him.

Lysander gave another nod of understanding. "Alright then. Here is our course of action. I will feed you my blood, Roy. You can decide the manner of your death. A stab to the heart, perhaps. You will experience excruciating agony as you die and resurrect. I will hasten the process by feeding you my blood once more."

Roy's nod was firm, but there was a flicker of fear in his eyes. 

"Are you ready?" Lysander's inquiry was almost soft. 

Roy nodded again, a small, quivering motion.

Lysander made a neat cut across his wrist and held it to Roy's lips. His brother grimaced at the unnatural taste, struggling to swallow. "You need to consume enough, or your death will be an even more horrific ordeal," Lysander cautioned.

Roy forced himself to take more, choking on the thick, metallic fluid. Rhain watched, a stone lodged in his throat. His heart hammered against his ribs at the thought of the ordeal his brother was about to face.

When Lysander drove a dagger deep into Roy's chest, Rhain felt as if a hand had closed around his heart, squeezing the life out of it. His skin felt too tight over his body, a clammy sheen of sweat emerging as he grappled with the echo of his brother's agony. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks. He clung to the thought that this horror would soon end, that his brother would finally be liberated from his confines.

Roy's anguish-ridden questions echoed in his mind. "Why am I like this? What sin have I committed to be this?"

Rhain had no answers, no balm for his brother's suffering. His guilt bloomed like a thorny bush in his heart, its sharp spikes digging into his conscience every time he heard the mirthful laughter of children playing outside. He'd often deny himself the simple joy of their company, haunted by his brother's isolation.

Even in their shared solitude, Rhain felt the sting of neglect as his parents' attention was consumed by Roy's needs. He understood, of course. Roy needed them more. But he couldn't quell the yearning for his parents' affection, for a simple acknowledgment of his own existence. Even as his mother drew her last breath, she left him with a plea to take care of Roy. Rhain knew she loved him too, but he wished she had left him with something more - a memory, an instruction to care for himself too. Anything.

Rhain's father left their world as abruptly as a flame extinguished by a gust of wind, providing no opportunity for parting words or last goodbyes. Their brave protector had left, and from that day forth, their tribulations amplified. No one cast a sympathetic gaze upon parentless children. It was a harsh lesson, a brutal introduction to the unforgiving nature of the world. Saviors were illusions crafted by desperate hearts.

Rhain's gaze shifted to Lysander. Well, perhaps there was one savior. Of all the beings in existence, it was the ancient vampire who emerged as their unexpected guardian. The irony didn't escape him.

Three long, agonizing days passed before his brother finally stirred from the slumber of his rebirth. It was during one of those late nights, while Rhain kept watch with Lysander who was engrossed in the book he was reading. The Vampire remained a mystery to him. He had declared him 'prey', yet refrained from feeding on him or demanding any form of carnal exchange.

"Do you not need to feed?" Rhain had queried, his curiosity piqued.

"Less frequently as I age. The older you grow, the less you need to sustain yourself with blood," Lysander had replied.

"Why?"

Lysander looked up from his book, his eyes mirroring centuries of wisdom. "As you age, you teeter closer to death. Your heart gradually ceases its rhythm. This makes the elders of our kind more formidable. With no dependency on a beating heart, we are less vulnerable."

"So, your heart... It doesn't beat?" Rhain's brows knitted together in confusion.

"Rarely now. Excitement generally stimulates a heartbeat. Hence, vampires enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Feeding, too, incites the heart, although less intensely in the absence of the hunt. Lastly, arousal stirs the heart. The more intense, the stronger the beat. That is why Vampires seek these things. They make us, momentarily, alive."

Rhain nodded slowly, processing this information. "So, my brother…"

"He will experience a more or less normal heartbeat for the first decade or so. However, be prepared, this transformation will change your brother in more ways than one. He won't be the brother you have known."

"What do you mean?" Rhain felt a sudden chill creeping down his spine.

"As vampires, our perception of the world, our relationships... they shift dramatically. You will no longer be merely his brother. To him, you will be a feast, a living, pulsating vein. Your heartbeat will be an irresistible siren's call."

"He won't harm me," Rhain said defiantly.

Lysander chuckled, a dark, hollow sound. "His intentions might be pure, but…" He left the sentence unfinished. "The initial decades… they will be challenging. And even though he might later resolve not to harm you, your existence will symbolize much more to him than mere fraternal bonds."

Rhain shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I won't feel hurt by his new nature. I understand it's part of his transformation."

Lysander smiled, his eyes sparkling with a peculiar radiance. "You are a rare one, Rhain." There was something in his gaze, a warm regard that made him feel special. Perhaps he was merely starved for affection, but Lysander's care and respect had a profound effect on him.

"Few humans share your perspective."

Well, he didn't particularly enjoy being seen as something as sustenance, and he couldn't understand why Lysander was caring for him, but he wasn't going to dwell on that. This was paradise so far, and the price was something he was willing to pay.

Lysander's stewardship transcended the mere provision of physical needs. He supplied Rhain with sustenance, clothing of the finest quality, and ensured he was comfortable. But his care went beyond the material. He engaged Rhain in thoughtful discussions, never demeaning his opinions simply because he was a human. For the first time in his life, Rhain encountered someone genuinely interested in his thoughts, feelings, and even dreams.

"I only desire for my brother to be healthy," Rhain had responded, when asked about his dreams.

Lysander, however, had gently shaken his head. "No. I am asking you what you would like for yourself." 

Rhain had never contemplated his personal desires. Lysander had ignited a spark of reflection within him, until the looming reality of his status as 'prey' cast a shadow on his newfound curiosity. What sort of future could he envision?

"Rhain?" The voice of his brother, drew their attention. Standing at the entrance, without assistance, without struggle, stood Roy. His expression mirrored the surprise Rhain felt. "I can… I can walk!" Roy exclaimed.

Rhain rose to his feet, his gaze locked on the sight before him — a miracle embodied in his brother. "Roy."

Roy chuckled, a note of pure joy vibrating in his voice. "I can walk, Rhain. I can walk!"

Tears welled up in Rhain's eyes, blurring the miraculous sight as he managed a smile. "Look!" Roy exclaimed, striding confidently toward them. He paused, his hands exploring his own limbs. "I feel so strong. I feel… alive. Free." He gasped.

"Yes, Roy," Rhain replied, a warm smile adorning his tear-streaked face.

"Oh Rhain." Roy rushed forward, sweeping Rhain into a crushing embrace. His arms were bands of steel around Rhain's bruised and fragile form. "I can't believe this. I am able to walk," Roy cried into his brother's shoulder.

"Ah… Roy." Rhain attempted to extricate himself from his brother's powerful grip. "You are strong."

"I know. I feel so strong," Roy rasped.

"I mean… you are crushing me," Rhain winced.

"Oh…" Roy loosened his hold, allowing Rhain to return the embrace. 

For a while, they stood there in silence, a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, until an unsettling quietness fell over Roy. Rhain could feel his brother's breath close to his neck, triggering an instinctual sense of danger.

"Roy?" Rhain tried to pull away, but Roy tightened his grip. "Roy, stop!" Rhain's plea went unheeded. In a sudden violent movement, Roy sank his newly formed fangs into his brother's flesh.

Rhain recoiled in pain, struggling to break free from Roy's suffocating grip. Roy's feeding was a savage, convulsive feast. His iron grip constricted Rhain's breath as if trying to force every drop of blood to the surface. It was Lysander who finally tore him away. As Rhain clutched his bleeding neck, he saw a transformed version of his brother, now a snarling, bloodthirsty creature, devoid of any recognizable humanity.

Roy was all fangs and fury, his eyes blazing with a demonic red as he struggled against Lysander's superior strength, fixated on continuing his feast. He growled fiercely, violently attempting to break free. But Lysander effortlessly hurled him across the room. 

Roy landed with a thud against the wall, yet seemed unfazed by the impact. He was up in an instant, his predator's gaze still locked on Rhain. His movements were a blur, unnaturally fast, and all Rhain saw was Lysander again intervening, this time landing a powerful blow against Roy's chest. The impact sent Roy crashing back to the floor, a pained groan escaping him as he finally succumbed to Lysander's power.

Rhain stood rooted in shock as Lysander advanced on the prone figure of Roy. "You will get blood. Come with me," Lysander commanded with a grim authority, hoisting Roy effortlessly and leading him away. That day, Rhain grappled with the unvarnished reality of a newly turned vampire.

Each night, Lysander escorted Roy out to feed, yet his insatiable hunger remained unquenched. The mere proximity of Rhain incited attacks from his brother, so Rhain found solace in the diversions provided by Lysander's lessons. He couldn't help questioning whether he had made the right choice.0

Noticing Rhain's distraction as he aimlessly played the piano, Lysander remarked, "This is not forever. It will pass. This is a normal part of the process."

But for how long? The question gnawed at Rhain's mind, seeding worry.

Years elapsed before Rhain could converse with his brother without eliciting predatory growls. By then, Roy regarded him with an accusatory glare. "You turned me into a monster! You condemned me to this!" He raged. 

Lysander's reassurances did nothing to alleviate the burden pressing upon Rhain's heart but as the accusations continued, Rhain had enough. 

"All I can think of is blood! I can't be out in the sun! I can't focus!" Roy bemoaned. "This is all your fault!"

"You wanted to walk. And now you can," Rhain retorted, his patience wearing thin.

"Yes, I can!" Roy retorted vehemently. "But what's the point if my mind is consumed by bloodlust?"

"It will pass!"

"When?"

Rhain gritted his teeth. He sympathized with his brother's plight, but he would not bear the brunt of his discontent.

"I know it's hard," Rhain managed through clenched teeth. "But it was no breeze before either. You have to pick your battles. There is no easy way of life. You had the choice between fighting and dying crippled or going through this fight to walk. You said you were ready to pay any price. This is the price!" 

"I didn't know this was the price. You didn't tell me. I'm not willing to pay it."

"Then die!" Rhain snapped, his patience evaporating, his composure crumbling. "Die and spare yourself and me this torment!"

Roy's eyes widened in shock, mirroring Rhain's own surprise at his outburst. He took a step back, his voice trembling as he declared, "Alright. I'll spare you my suffering. You won't see me again." And with that, he vanished.

Rhain turned to Lysander, who watched the altercation from his armchair. "Well, that went better than expected. Good for you," Lysander said.

Rhain knew Lysander harbored little fondness for Roy. "You've been too kind to him. He's an ungrateful, irresponsible man who blames everyone else for his misery. Don't let his guilt weigh you down. He's supposed to be the elder brother. Let's hope that once his thirst subsides, he'll behave more appropriately."

Rhain clung to that hope. 

Over the ensuing years, he strove to distance himself from his brother. Lysander urged him to focus on his own development, providing him with a top-tier education. Together, they traversed the world, visiting places Rhain never thought existed. He immersed himself in learning new languages and exploring different cultures, all the while hoping that, someday, his brother would return having controlled his thirst. 

Rhain also found himself more entwined in Lysander's nocturnal life, surrounded by vampires and seduced by the allure of the night. Unlike his brethren, Lysander introduced Rhain simply by his given name, abandoning the derogatory terms other vampires used to refer to their human companions.

This made Rhain feel special.

"You are special," Lysander often assured him.

"Why me?" Rhain posed the question one day as they admired an exquisite painting in a museum.

"I appreciate beauty," Lysander mused, his eyes on the painting. "You, Rhain, are beauty personified."

Rhain had grown aware of his physical attractiveness and how it drew both humans and vampires alike. However, he couldn't fathom that Lysander, of all beings, would keep him around for such a superficial reason.

"True beauty is terrifying, Rhain. I feel that thrill, when I look at you." 

Thrill. The drug for Vampires. 

After nine years by Lysander's side, Rhain finally asked, "Why are you teaching me all these things? Am I not destined to remain your prey?"

For the first time, Rhain witnessed annoyance etched on Lysander's face. The book in his hands slammed shut. "Don't you have any ambitions, Rhain?!" Lysander retorted, his voice taking on a harsher edge. His eyes emitted an intimidating glow that could make even the strongest vampire shrink back in fear. "You've never once protested being my prey. Don't you desire a future? A chance at happiness?"

Rhain blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "I am well-fed, warm, and comfortable..."

"God!" Lysander hissed in exasperation. "Those are the bare necessities, Rhain!" He then took a deep breath, as if seeking to regain his composure. Rhain struggled to understand his frustration. "Listen. I know it seems a lot to you, but I have shown you around the world. There is much more out there. I admire your simplicity, but you deserve better. I don't intend to keep you as prey forever. I'm teaching you because I've chosen YOU to inherit my legacy."

Rhain furrowed his brow, perplexed. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't have offspring, and you are well-suited to our world. You possess the resilience necessary, and you've already embraced the darkness. I want you to join my world, to carry on my lineage. You will bear my blood, my name, my legacy. You will be a Blackthorne."

He leaned back in his chair, visibly relaxed again. "That's why I'm educating you. Blackthornes have always been defined by knowledge, manners, intelligence, and resilience. You fit the mold, and of course," he flashed a smile, "I like you."

"You want me to... bear your name?"

"If you accept," Lysander clarified. "Consider it. I am giving you the freedom to pursue your own path. You can walk it as a mortal or an immortal. If you choose immortality, then you will bear my blood, and you can become a Blackthorne."

Rhain deliberated over Lysander's proposition as he allowing the sun's warmth to bathe him, contemplating if he was prepared to forsake this simple pleasure for centuries. But soon, the harsh memories began to invade his thoughts. Mortality. What had it gifted him? It had snatched away his parents, and subjected him to plague, hunger, illness, and the harsh winter. His fellow humans had extended no compassion, even during his childhood. Rhain vowed to never succumb to such abject misery again.

He acknowledged the challenges immortality would present, the worst among them the loneliness that plagued many of his kind. Yet, in this vast world, he only had Lysander and his brother, both of whom were now immortal. What purpose would he serve as a mortal?

However, before he could finalize his decision, fate intervened. Vampires with a vendetta against Lysander targeted Rhain, leaving him on the brink of death before his long-absent brother came to his rescue. The sight of his once crippled brother, now a protector, triggered a stream of tears as he lay in his own blood.

Lysander arrived promptly, cradling Rhain's dying body in his lap, a rare display of sorrow marking his usually composed face. "Sometimes the darkness chooses us," he mused. "Will you surrender to it in death, or will you endure in its embrace?"

Rhain felt his life force wane, the pain intensifying. He refused to die a victim, to be assaulted and discarded. Not again. "Live..." he managed to croak out. "The darkness... will. be. mine. I. will. be... a thorn in it. A black thorn."

Lysander's gaze hardened, as though Rhain's words ignited his resolve. "Very well, then. I will make this as swift as possible."

What followed was an eternity of excruciating pain, punctuated by a seemingly endless darkness. However, when he finally reopened his eyes, Roy was hovering above him, a warm smile spreading across his face at Rhain's awakening.

"Welcome back, little brother."

"Roy..." Rhain weakly extended his hand, which Roy promptly took.

"Yes. I'm here. I am sorry I left you alone," he confessed, giving Rhain's hand a comforting squeeze. "I sorry for the hurtful things I said. I failed as a brother."

"Yes," Rhain affirmed in a breathy whisper.

A rueful smile graced Roy's face. "I promise, I'll be your older brother now. I'll take care of you."

Despite the persistent pain and the ravenous thirst gnawing at his throat, Rhain managed a smile. 

Roy, despite his earnest efforts, was a terrible caretaker, but Rhain found comfort in his attempts. He was also pleased to observe that Roy had gained control over his bloodlust and was carving out a life for himself. For the first time, he saw his brother genuinely content, and that alone made Rhain grateful for his newfound lease on life, even if it lasted merely a day.

The only source of Roy's discontent was his inability to father a child. He shrugged, his tone light. "We can't have everything, can we?"

"Indeed," Rhain agreed.

"But I will find myself a nice lady," Roy mused, his eyes reflecting his dreams as they swirled with possibilities. 

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