XBlood- The Beginning

by Shadow Soft

  The door opened all the way, silhouetting two figures in the doorway. I peeked through the scrollwork in the back of the chair to see who they were: a man and a woman, nearly the same height, both youngish. The man had short black hair, combed back, and striking green eyes. He stood straight and dressed clean, as if he had just washed and changed into fresh clothes. The woman beside him was pretty, as were her blue eyes. She wore her blond hair long down her back, except at the front, where its bangs slashed across her brow and nearly covered her right eye.

  I knew right away something was wrong. It was pretty dim in the room, and their eyes were not glowing. Vampires’ eyes glowed in the dark. Were they not vampires, then? Some of my fear began to ebb away.

  “Go on, Valeska,” the man said softly to someone behind him. At his voice I shivered again and ducked lower. “You know what you’re supposed to do.”

  There were hushed words I could not hear.

  The woman stooped to talk to whoever it was I couldn’t see. “It’s best if you make first contact,” she murmured. “Go on.”

  Valeska edged shyly into the room. She was a girl, a couple years older than me. Twelve, I guessed. Taller than I was, with light pink hair and black eyes, so big could trip into them and fall forever if you weren’t careful. She wore a violet dress, which was very nearly the most beautiful thing I had seen yet in my young life. Pink hair. Violet dress. Color. It was new to me, and it made my heart tremble in my chest.

  Valeska padded across the room, stopping a few feet away from where I crouched. “Hi,” she said. Her voice was like the music I had never heard. Her face was gentle like the morning sunlight I had never seen. “My name is Valeska, but my friends call me Vales.”

  “Val . . . . Valesk––ka.” In my ten years of life I had not often spoken.

  Her lips bent into a small smile. But no. Bent is the wrong word. Bent is sharp like metal or glass. They curved, like a ripple on water. It was a kind movement. “I don’t think you understand,” she said, “what I mean when I say that all my friends call me Vales.”

  My reeling mind hardly comprehended what she was saying. “Val . . . . Valeska.”

  Valeska’s eyelids drifted over her eyes, hiding the depths of them away for a second, and she sighed. “Alright then. Later.” Her eyes opened again, brightly. “What’s your name?”

  Name. For some reason panic, hot and hard, burst in my chest. It pounded like the pounding of my heart. “Subject X!” I blurted, teetering on the edge of madness. Name! Name! Isn’t that it? Isn’t that my name? What is my name?

  “Subject X is not a name,” Valeska said sadly. “That’s a horrid thing to call someone. You must have a name for yourself.”

  “Subject X,” I replied.

  She shook her head. “No, that’s not––”

  “Subject X! Subject X! Subject X!”

  “No!”

  The sudden sharpening of her face and voice stabbed fear through me, and my mania cracked through. I was in a strange place. I was with strange people who wanted strange things with me. I was strange. I was a stranger unto myself. No name, no knowledge of . . . .

  Panic overcame me, and I bolted for the window.

  Valeska caught my hands.

  At her touch I went still, I stopped breathing. Fear-sweat covered me but I could not run.

  “Hush,” Valeska said. I watched the way her lips moved around the word. It was calming, not quick and mean, or sly and fake like the lips of the scientists back at the lab. Some of the terror went out of me. “It’s ok if you don’t have a name,” Valeska went on quietly. “I’ll give you one.”

  Give me . . . . Give me . . . . “To me?” I gasped. “A . . . . a name?”

  Valeska smiled and nodded. She tipped her chin up, seeming to think. She thought for a long time. I was flattered. If I were to have a name, it must need to be a really good name. Finally something in her dark eyes sparkled, and she looked back into my face. “Valx,” she said simply.

  “Va . . . . Valx?”

  “Yes!” She almost clapped her hands in excitement. “I took the first three letters of my name and combined them with the x from your Subject X! Isn’t it lovely! Or do you––”

  I rushed over the sudden worry in her voice. “Valx.”

  Her worry stopped, hesitating in uncertainty; then a laugh bubbled out of her. “Do you like it?”

  “Valx.” I made the sound in my mouth, feeling it on my tongue. The smooth swell of the beginning and the gravel of the finish. “Valx.” So this was a name. This was my name. It was a thing so wonderful it made me shudder from the palms of my hands to the soles of my feet. “Valx.”

  Valeska smiled like the sun. “You must be hungry, Valx. I’ll bring something to eat––and we can talk? Get to know each other better?”

  I had hardly managed a bemused nod before she darted out the door, violet skirt whisking around her.

  Despite Valeska’s best efforts, very little of getting to know each other happened over the next several days. Or rather, I should say that I came to know her quite well, but she learned very little about me. We spent most of our waking hours together. Valeska told me the foods she liked, the animals that scared her, and what she did when she wasn’t talking to me. Every day she told me what she had learned in school. She told me about her family, her friends, her world. Through her eyes, I slowly came to understand the shifting of things around me. I learned what it was like to live outside a lab.

  I shared nothing of what it was like to live inside a lab. When Valeska asked me a question I answered with a yes or a no; nothing more elaborate. The words were choked up inside of me, too rusty to be brought forth into the light. My whole life I had only spoken a handful of partial sentences, so being asked to converse seemed a monumental request. Ah, well I suppose I exaggerate. I had spoken thousands of words in the past ten years of my life. But thousands spread across ten years isn’t that much. Most of the questions the scientists back at the lab had asked me I either ignored or didn’t understand.

  Being afraid to say more than a single word in front of Valeska, you can imagine my feelings toward the other people––her parents, and anyone who happened by. I was terrified of them. I refused to come out of my room, forcing Valeska to bring me my meals alone.

  In fact, it was three whole weeks before I summoned the courage to ask my first question. It was after lunch one day, and our empty plates lay on the bed between us. I swallowed some water and set my glass aside, then wetted my lips nervously. “Vampire?” Still only one word, but it was a question. That was massive progress.

  Valeska cocked her head, not sure what I was asking.

  Afraid of what I was about to find out, I lifted one trembling finger and pointed at her.

  Valeska’s expression turned confused. She looked over her shoulder. Then she turned back to me, recognition dawning. “You mean me?” she asked incredulously?

  I nodded.

  A startled laugh burst out of Valeska. “What makes you think I’m a vampire?”

  My mind flashed back to what I had seen in the forest that night, three weeks ago. Silhouettes shifting from the forest trees . . . . But I couldn’t say it. Too many words. Too much risk.

  Thankfully Valeska giggled and winked. “Don’t worry, Valx, I’m on your side. Mother and Father, too. No vampires here. See––” She opened her mouth wide, pulling her cheeks aside so I could see her teeth. They weren’t fangs.

  Relief made me slightly dizzy, and I put my hand down to steady myself.

  “It’s alright, Valx,” Valeska said with a worried frown. “You’re safe. We rescued you, remember? All cold and alone out in the forest . . . .”

  Maybe it was just a dream. That part, at least. Maybe I only imagined the vampires.

  “. . . . maybe soon you can meet my parents? For real, I mean. And when you’re ready I can invite some of my friends over to meet you. They’re jealous, Valx. I’ve told them so much about you, they want to actually see you for themse
lves!”

  I cleared my throat. “Maybe tomorrow.” Two whole words in a row.

  Valeska’s eyes twinkled. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “You’re getting braver.”

  Regardless of what I had said, it was four days before I summoned the courage to meet her parents. Victor Nightfall was Valeska’s father. He was wearing a scientist’s white lab coat when I walked into the room, so naturally I went frozen as a fossil in amber. Another scientist, was all I could think. Here to dissect me.

  What followed remains somewhat of a blur, as I was too terrified to properly comprehend it. Valeska rebuked her father for his lack of delicacy using a sharp side of her tongue I had not yet met. Properly chastened, he retreated, changed, then reappeared in normal clothing. When I shook his hand, still petrified, he explained that he was working on a compound that would revert my blood, blood type X, to one of the common human blood types. He was trying to make me a normal person again. I nodded, still recovering, and turned to shake Valeska’s mother’s hand.

  Valerie Leclaire was also a scientist, but her focus was less on the experimentation and more on fixing mutations in the immune system and blood. Her blue eyes were like a summer sky as she bent to take me in her arms. Startled, I went stiff, but she held me against her and rocked me slowly from side to side.

  It dawned on me with slow potency what this was. This was a mother’s embrace. A mother’s . . . . I had never had a mother. Valerie kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “I’m so glad you’ve come to live with us, Valx.”

  And I began to cry.

  And so I came to live with Valeska and her family. After three years, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I could hardly believe the change in me. I had grown from a tortured, abused, skittish ten-year-old to a healthy young teen. There was color in my cheeks and the beginnings of muscle on my arms. But greater was the change in my eyes. Where once they had been shadowed and full of pain, now they glowed with the strength of one well-loved. I had a name. A family. A life.

  I was Valx.

  “Valx!” Valerie’s voice pressed through my door. “If you don’t come to lunch it’ll be cold!”

  I grinned. “Coming!”

  In the kitchen Valeska smiled at me. “Pizza, from freezer to oven. Your favorite.” Three years had only made her prettier, her eyes deeper and her hair longer.

  I grabbed a plate and some pizza. Victor switched on the radio as I scooted in at the table.

  For the first news this morning, I’ll give it to our nocturnal envoys so they can inform us about what happened last night.

  Well studios, I am currently in direct from Bucharest in Romania, where for the third time this week, we witnessed a confrontation between Earth’s two most notorious groups of vampires: the LDV (the Legion of Dominant Vampires) and the LFX (the Liberation Front X). The event that unfolded last night resulted in a record degree of collateral damage. Of the 100 human victims, 27 are in critical condition due to loss of blood, which raises the total number of victims this month to 517, of which 135 are in critical condition. Additionally, 25 vampires are recovering from seriously injury.

  The last two attacks took place in Kiev, Ukraine, and Moscow, Russia. According to some witnesses, the LFX was attempting to slow down the LDV, who seek to apprehend the coveted Subject X. Now it’s important to note that Subject X disappeared into the French wilderness after the incident that took place almost three years ago, during its transport by the Scientific Community of Human Nations United on European Territory.

  Victor flicked the volume down as he sat at the table. “Well, Valx, looks like your fans are still fighting for you.”

  LFX pretended to be benefactors, fighting for my safety and liberation. I knew their pacifism was only a front to try to make me lower my guard. No vampire would willingly protect an infinite source of blood as powerful as mine. “Yeah,” I said drily, “fans of my blood, no doubt.”

  “Oh, Valx.” Vales scowled at me. “Don’t be so sour! Surely there are people doing their best to protect you.” Her dark eyes filled me with reassurance. You’re not alone, they whispered.

  “Other than you guys?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Anybody wanting to protect me has to be as abnormal and . . . . mutated as me.”

  Vales’ eyes darkened. I didn’t even need to meet them to feel it. “What did you just say?” she hissed.

  I knew before she spoke I had crossed into dangerous territory. There is a feeling I get when I upset her. It always reminds me of when the scientists did an in-depth examination of the interior of my spinal column. Vales, always positive and chipper, has an aura like death when she’s mad.

  “That’s not what I meant, Vales,” I said weakly, desperate to calm her. I was always bad at communicating. Probably because I had lived ten years of my life in constant conversation with nothing more than my own thoughts; so not my fault, but certainly my problem.

  “Yes?” Vales growled.

  “What I meant,” I said carefully, “is that the people who want to protect me must know what suffering is like, and feel compassion to an abnormal level.”

  “Abnormal?”

  “In that they are very compassionate to my pain.”

  “And can vampires not feel compassion?”

  “Vampires are monsters, Vales.”

  Her face went even harder. “And what about the scientific community? Have they not done monstrous things to you?

  I felt my cheeks redden, and I dipped my head in concession. “I’m sorry, Vales.” She still looked angry, so I bowed quickly. I had read in story books how bowing always showed how sincerely sorry you were. “I’m sorry, Vales. Please just know that what I have endured has been very difficult for me . . . . trust comes hard.”

  I looked timidly up at Vales. She still had her arms folded across her chest, but some of the severity had faded from her countenance. “I’ll forgive you. On one condition.”

  Eagerly I nodded. Anything to mend Vales’ affront. She was my best friend, and I couldn’t afford to open a rift between us.

  Vales’ expression was utterly earnest. “Valx,” she said, “I need you to promise me that no matter what happens, you will always trust me.”

  I hesitated. “Why would I not . . . ?”

  “Promise me!”

  Her dark eyes flared, and I felt my chest clench. “I promise!” I blurted. “Of course I will always trust you, Vales. You’re my best friend. I just don’t understand . . . .”

  Vales’ face softened and she opened her arms. “Come here, Valx.”

  Still confused, I hugged her. Why had she wanted me to promise something so obvious? She should have known without asking that I trust her implicitly.

  “Sometimes I’m afraid,” Vales whispered in my ear. “Suddenly I get this feeling in my gut that you still don’t trust me, like when you first came here.” She pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, squeezing my arms. “I’m desperate to know that you trust me, Valx, and always will, no matter what happens.”

  I nodded, frowning. “Of course, Vales. Always.”

  “Good.” A smile budded, chasing away the shadows of fear from her face.

  “Valx.” Valerie’s voice came from behind me. I turned to see Vales’ mother with her hands on her hips. “I told you to be careful not to hurt people’s feelings, dear.”

  “I––I’m sorry, Valerie,” I stuttered. “I wasn’t thinking how it will sound. I’ll be more careful next time.”

  A faint smile touched her lips. “I know you will, Valx. You’re always thoughtful. Although––” the smile in her eyes sharpened till it was a shard of glass “––I really would appreciate it if you called me something other than Valerie. You’re welcome to call me Mom, you know.”

  Inwardly, I sighed. “I know, Valerie. But I just . . . .” I shook my head. “I can’t.” Whenever I thought of calling Vales’ parents Mom and Dad like she did, a horrible feeling welled up in my stomach and I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. I couldn’
t help but feel the neglect of my own parents. My true parents, who had given birth to me then abandoned me when they discovered who––what––I was. It didn’t feel right giving the same titles to Victor and Valerie, who had only ever shown me love and compassion. At the same time, though, something dark deep inside me wondered what they would do when the crucial moment came. When the vampires attacked or the scientists discovered where I was hiding, would Victor and Valerie abandon me too? “I’m sorry, Valerie,” I whispered again. “I’m not strong enough. Forgive me.”

  Pity touched her blue eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive, Valx. I know it’s hard. Maybe someday . . . ?”

  That I could give her. “Maybe someday,” I agreed. “Now––” she put on her bustly tone “––time to get ready? You have a busy day today.”

  I finished my last bite of pizza and washed my hands. “I’m just going to step outside for a touch of sunlight real quick, beforehand.”

  “Always in touch with nature,” Vales poked, winking.

  “It’s such a nice day!” I protested, indicating out the window. “It calls to me!”

  “Ok,” Valerie said, “but no going into the woods, right? You could get lost like last time.”

  “I understand,” I sighed. The woods were my favorite place––where I could be alone with my thoughts and dappled shade.

  “Honey,” Victor said, “don’t you think you’re a little too worried? This time we have the XBR working; we didn’t last time.

  The X Blood Radar was a scientific location gadget Victor had developed that tracked the olfactory signals in my blood. Vampires could smell me from up to five hundred meters away, but humans, quite naturally, have no need to be able to track blood by smell, so last time I got lost in the woods it had taken hours for Vales’ family to find me. Afterward Victor developed the XBR so they would be able to find me more easily, thus reducing the risk of me wandering somewhere dangerous, where humans or vampires could capture me.

  Valerie sighed. “You’re right, of course,” she said, “but I still feel that it’d be best if he doesn’t go into the woods at all. Better safe than sorry, right?”