Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Vampire. And as much as I would love to think up a creative disclaimer right now, it's late and I've no inspiration. So good night, and don't sue me, please.
03. Light
When Rudolph woke to a fiery orb of light blaring uncomfortable heat on his face who knows how long after the comet met the moon, he was absolutely sure he was dead. Tony must have wished incorrectly, or God had condemned he and his family to the same fate they would have encountered had they each been staked in the heart at the hands of the vengeful Rookery himself.
But soon after, when Rudolph realized that this light had been burning his retinas for at least a minute straight, he blinked his squinted eyes painfully and was surprised to find himself in a sun-washed graveyard. Vision adjusting, he examined his mother and Gregory, already exploring the area a good twenty feet away with upturned lips; Anna was sitting on a tombstone with her eyes closed and mouth placed in a delicate smile next to him, her hair and cheeks shimmering gold with the sunlight. Rudolph's father, his skin still a ghostly pale hue, was lying spread-eagle in the cool grass and sporting a genuine grin for the first time in three centuries. Rudolph himself felt carefree laughter sprouting a beautiful warmth in his vocal chords.
They were mortal again: and they had a small, bespectacled boy to thank for it.
