((Hey, guys! I had to delete the first chapter because it posted twice for some reason. So here's a new version where the story isn't posted twice! Thanks for understanding!))

The Tale of the Canadian Vampire

A loud, shaky cough was expelled from the small mouth of a young Canadian boy, rousing him from his slumber. The form slowly sat up in the hospital bed, looking around groggily as the lace of sunlight peered through the old, rugged curtains.

Quiet footsteps could be heard from the hallway, and soon enough, the door to his room slowly opened, revealing one of the nurses he had grown to call mother over the years.

"How are you feeling, Matthew?" came the simple reply from the elder woman as she gracefully strode into his hospital room, pulling up a chair beside his bed.

A soft, cool hand pressed against the warmth radiating off of his forehead and soon enough, he felt soft, plump lips press against his cheek, which made him beam a large smile along with a small laugh at the feeling of it.

"I'm feeling a lot better today," Matthew replied.

The Canadian was born prematurely, which would cause a lot of problems for him in the near future. Knowing this, his parents abandoned him in his time of need, not wanting the hospital bills to rack up over time; there was no point in keeping something if it just had a couple months to live. So, the tiny infant stayed in the hospital, simply waiting for his time to come when his eyes slipped closed and he never woke up again.

The doctors were astounded when the tiny infant survived the first year, and soon enough, he was growing up just like all the others. There was one little problem though, the Canadian had trouble breathing due to premature lungs. They had not grown fully and that was a large setback for him.

Often oxygen tubes would go up his nose to help him breathe easier, helping him to relax and calm his nerves. When he grew old enough to learn what was happening, he had to quickly learn to accept it and learn that he would most likely be in the hospital for the rest of his life.

The doctors didn't want to risk sending Matthew to an orphanage, because he would have to be watched twenty four seven by a nurse to make sure he was breathing correctly.

Matthew was definitely shy when it came to meeting people he didn't know because he had been kept inside the hospital, away from any other harm.

As the years ticked on, the young boy turned into a young man, around the age of twenty. He had wavy, long, blonde locks and bright lilac eyes, which a lot of people found concerning but he didn't care. His lilac eyes made him different and unique and he had grown to really like that about himself.

He was moved from the children's hospital and was now able to stay in a tiny apartment that was often visited by a caretaker to see how the Canadian was holding up.

Matthew had no need for the oxygen tubes anymore since his lungs had developed into the correct size for lungs to be. He was homeschooled by a retired teacher who had to be at least seventy. She was kind, caring, and would always praise him if he got an answer correct.

For now, as the night fell over the town he lived in, the lights in his apartment flicked off as he stumbled to bed in a sleepy daze. Falling onto the soft mattress below, a long, pale arm reached down to tug the blankets over his cotton pajamas. Violet eyes fell shut and soon enough, a hush fell over the town.

A small creak sounded on the wooden floors of his home but the Canadian did not stir at the sound. A figure appeared in the doorway, casting a darker shadow across the sleeping man. Pearly white teeth gleamed in the darkness as the figure strode across the ground, walking over to the bed. The figure paused when they heard an incoherent mumble come from Matthew and a small chuckle escaped their mouth.

Ever so slowly, they leaned down, their pale fingers tracing down the sleeping face of the Canadian. They moved his hair away from his eyes and gently, they pushed his chin up, revealing his neck.

Carefully, the figure bent down and they opened their mouth wide, letting the sharp fangs poke at the warm skin. As soon as the figure bit down into the neck, Matthew's eyes snapped open.

Matthew had been having a peaceful sleep, dreaming about having a family that loved and cared for him. He was in the middle of a warm embrace by someone he called his father before pain shot through his body, ripping him from his slumber.

His brain couldn't process what was happening, only the feeling of pain and suffering was washing over him. He could feel the warmth of his blood exiting out of his neck but he didn't dare make any move to look at what was happening.

No sound escaped him and he did not struggle as the scent of metallic blood filled the air. His stomach began to churn and his mind was spinning, making him feel sick. As he began working up enough courage, his eyes darted down to see a blackened figure standing beside him.

His whole body tensed and before he could stop it, a loud whimper escaped his throat. A cool finger was suddenly pressed against his lips and his breath hitched. His body began to feel weak from the lack of blood, feeling like nothing was left inside of him. Was this how he was going to die?

"Shh, do not be afraid," a voice suddenly said, making him snap out of the panicked thoughts he was having. "I will not kill you and you will not die, but I will come again. Do not tell anyone about this," the voice cooed.

All too soon, the finger left his lips and when he looked down again, the man beside him was gone. His heart was pounding in his chest yet he laid still, not having any energy to move. Instead, he trusted the figure's words and he laid awake the rest of the night, the pain still coursing through his body.

In the morning, the nurse found him exactly how he had staid the rest of the night. There were two puncture wounds on his neck, but no one would notice that. His face was sickly pale and he had little blood left inside of him.

The ambulance was called and he was transported to the nearest hospital for treatment. His body was pumped full of blood once again and he was given doses of medication to try and help him recover.

Matthew wouldn't tell a soul about what had happened, since he didn't know what had happened himself. It had happened much too quickly. The sweet voice stayed in his mind and he repeated to himself over and over again that he would not die and that the man would return, but when?

Days turned into weeks and there was still no sign of the vampire and there was no sign of the Canadian getting better. He needed something, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

He stayed in the hospital under constant supervision of nurses who continuously injected him with different medication like he was some type of human experiment.

One night, while he laid awake, watching the full moon and the glistening stars through his hospital room window, he let his mind wander, feeling like the vampire wasn't going to show up from a long time and that thought saddened him.

"Did you miss me?" came a voice, making Matthew's eyes dart over to the sound.

The Canadian's heart jumped into his throat and began pounding as fast as it possibly could, making it sound like a machine gun was inside the room. He could hear the vampire let out a small chuckle and his cheeks tinted a light pink. Did he hear it too?

Suddenly, the vampire was beside his bed, those soft fingers brushing against his face. His blood was racing through his veins but overall, he felt calm.

"Come, we're leaving," the soothing voice said and before he knew it, he was in the other man's arms and being whisked away.

Before he could even protest, everything was speeding past him until it turned to just a white blur. Then, everything got dark and he realised he was outside. His mouth fell open as he looked up at the vampire before him. Blonde, wavy hair fell over his shoulders, his ocean blue eyes looking out at the town before them.

Matthew couldn't help but stare at him in adoration, his eyes trailing over his paled features. The Frenchman seemed to catch notice of this and a small chuckle escaped him, making Matthew avert his eyes.

Soon, he found himself in the darkened forest that he was told to never go into. Was this why? He had heard about vampires but only from children's books he was read to when he was young.

He was set down on the lush grass and he made no effort to move, not wanting to anger the man. He sat up a bit, feeling the gust of air sweep past him as the man made quick work of making and lighting a fire.

"What... do you want from me?" Matthew managed to ask. "I don't understand."

And that was when he watched in horror as the vampire bit into his wrist. Walking over to Matthew, he bent down beside him, offering his bleeding wrist to him. Matthew didn't understand, but the scent was hypnotic to him.

He grasped the man's arm and pulled the wrist to his dry lips. Matthew began drinking from the man's wrist like never before. He was so thirsty but not for water. The metallic taste seemed to satisfy his senses and his body visibly relaxed.

"Good boy," the man praised, his fingers running through Matthew's soft, blonde hair.

Matthew wanted to ask more questions but a tired feeling washed over him. Didn't it mean that when a vampire bit someone, they turned into one too?

"Am I going to become a vampire?" Matthew asked tiredly, his eyelids feeling like they were being weighed down by an iron bar.

He saw the nod that came from the man and a happy sigh escaped him when he felt cool lips press against his forehead, just like the nurse did when he was back in the children's hospital.

"In time," he whispered to the tired Canadian.

Not being able to keep his eyes open anymore, they slipped closed and before he fell into a deep slumber, he felt a name being whispered into his ear.

Francis.