The Blank Book

Mike was staring at the mirror. Dark circles were starting to form under his eyes and his skin was getting paler. He waited; waited to see if any images would show in the mirror. All he saw was his regular, old self.

He grew annoyed and angry at the mirror. It wasn't telling him anything about what had happened last night. That's when he noticed that his reflection was a wavering on the edges. He looked down at himself: he still looked normal. Then it hit him.

'Vampires don't have reflections. Another thing about me that's changing.'

Frustrated, he punched the mirror. The glass shattered into millions of pieces, some of which got stuck in his fist, causing it to bleed. He breathed heavily. Gradually he started calming down.

He sat down on his bed. Gingerly, he picked the pieces of glass out of his hand. Piece by bloody piece he picked them out. It barely even hurt. When he was done, his eyes lingered on the bloody mess that was his hand. Without thinking, he licked all the blood up until the bleeding slowed.

"Hecaln," he muttered, not even knowing what the word was or what it meant.

Right before his eyes, his skin slowly stretched and covered the cuts, not leaving a single scar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his reflection in a shard of glass; his eyes were glowing red again.

'Magic. That potion also gave me magic. How many other things, then, did my Lord not tell me?'

Mike left the mess on the ground and got up restlessly. He started to pace around, many thoughts conflicting in his mind.

'Maybe my Lord's potion gave me power, equal to his, and all I have to do is get rid of whatever advantage he has that controls me.' Mike's eyes stopped glowing. 'Maybe that mirror was saying I'm connected to him in some way, and to my vampire self too is a part of me now. Maybe, maybe, maybe... ' He glanced at the broken glass. 'Maybe I can use magic to clean this up.'

Mike waited, and waited for the right word to come to him. When it didn't, he let out a grunt of frustration. Then it came to him.

'Foltunix."

The mirror started fixing itself and Mike saw the same reddish tint in his eyes. It started to fade as the last piece was in place and the mirror looked as good as new.

He felt a wave of exhaustion overcome himself. He lay down and went to sleep. He dreamt as he seemed to do whenever he fell asleep now.


Mike found himself looking over a book. Marpheln had taught him to read and how to use his powers. He still wondered how such a nice man knew so much about vampires. It had already been seven years since Marpheln had let Mike live with him.

'Oh well,' Mike thought, 'How he knows so much about vampires doesn't really matter. Soon, nothing about him will matter.'

Mike looked up from his book he wasn't even reading. He saw Marpheln scribbling something with his bird quill on a piece of parchment.

'It would be appropriate if he were writing his will. Oh well, I'll just have to take all his stuff, or at least what I want, since no one knows he even exists.'

Tonight Mike planned to kill Marpheln. He didn't need him anymore. The reason why he was going to was because there was one book, one book alone out of all the books Marpheln had, that Mike couldn't read. All he knew was the title: "Ancient Spells". It was the only one of its kind and he knew from reading about the history of magic that the spells ancient beings cast were the most powerful, most of them horrible. There was even a legend about one that a being would cast upon himself or herself that would grant them immortality and immense power.

'Marpheln shouldn't have refused me the right to look through it. I know he doesn't trust me anymore; I'm becoming a danger to him. He is right, but he should think more of me, it's costing him his life. He knows my intentions to get revenge on all humans. They are weak and dirty, not even caring for a vampire, an innocent child they knew.'

Mike heard Marpheln set down his quill. His chair scraped across the floor as he got up.

"Good night, Veldenbarr."

"Good night, Master Marpheln."

Marpheln blew out the candle on his table. Mike didn't need one due to his ability to see perfectly well, no matter how dark it is. Mike always slept hanging upside down from one of the rafters as a bat since there wasn't much room in the hut.

After closing the book, Mike transformed into a bat and perched on a rafter. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He could hear Marpheln's breathing from where he was. Right now he was lying down in his bed, waiting for sleep to come.

Mike waited patiently. A hunter had to have patience in order to be successful. That's what he was, a hunter, hunting his prey: humans.

As soon as he heard the breathing of Marpheln sleeping, he landed and transformed back into a human, without making a sound. Silently, he made his way into Marpheln's room.

Knowing about the spells Marpheln had cast on the door to make sure no one could get into his room at night, Mike whispered four words. Three were to get rid of three different spells and one was to make sure the door was quiet when he opened it. Mike pressed his fingers on the door and it swung open.

Marpheln lay there, eyes closed, looking peaceful. A grin spread over Mike's face. He said a word and Marpheln's breathing became silent. Another word and Marpheln floated out of bed and then landed, standing in front of Mike. His eyes opened and he tried to say something, but no sound escaped from his lips. Unfortunately for him, magic only worked if you said the right word. Realizing that, he tried to move, but found he couldn't, no matter how much he struggled to.

Mike bit his neck and drank his blood. He had loved blood ever since he had first drunk it. Blood filled in his emptiness he had had after becoming a vampire. Blood made him feel stronger. Blood and power were everything to him.

When he was finished he let out a laugh.

Mike heard himself laughing as he woke up.