Chapter 1

I hope that you won't be too perturbed by a few disappointments, least of all this I have to say – while I have this piece of typing listed under the "Twilight" category, the work itself is not directly related to any of the books. Being that I am a nineteen year-old male and thus not in the target demographic, I have never read any of the Twilight books, nor have I seen the movies. However, it is because of these books, along with the likes of Anne Rice and the tabletop roleplaying game Vampire: The Masquerade, that the "vampire" genre has had something of a rebirth, which has ironically been something of a frustration to old-school horror fans. Incidentally, I haven't read any of them, either.

Also, I pray that you may be able to keep your disbelief suspended as you are subjected to whatever oddities, unlikelihoods, improbabilities, and downright impossibilities may and will emerge as the story progressives, not least of which being that a public library, which is funded by taxes (a thing so many of us resent, especially at this time of writing), seems to so heavily used by students, rather than a university library, which is funded by tuition (a thing that so many of us also resent). Also being that I myself know very little of how a public library works, this piece of fiction is likely to contain inaccuracies for those of you who do know how a public library works.

But hey, this is an imaginary story. Aren't they all?

The setting is a public library in a small, obscure town in a small, obscure state, which may just have some kind of vague similarity to Califlorida. It is snowing outside, not that it matters. The library is very well-stocked, thanks largely in part to a city council and voters that happen to be very fond of their public services. It is nearing dusk, and there are various people about at the library.

There's the middle-age woman who seems to have quite an interest in biographies of famous people, ranging from obscure playwrights (the guy who wrote Fast-Food Nation wrote a play about Leon Czolgosz. Good luck finding it) to those United States Presidents that you know one or two pieces of trivia about (she can tell you that Taft did a great deal more than get stuck in his bathtub).

Then there's that one nerd. He has the good sense to know that the library does not, nor will it ever, stock supplemental materials for Dungeons and Dragons or Paranoia, as awesome as that would be, but he amuses himself with a large selection of fantasy literature (except Sword of Truth. He hates Sword of Truth with a passion), which does in fact contain books based off of Dungeons and Dragons. Just don't ask him about Drizzt Do'Urden. He's so annoyed at his fellow peers for copying him. At this point he'd rather someone just took the "idiot bard" archetype. At least those guys are funny and not angsty.

Then there are those four law students who are seated together studying, two guys and two girls. One of the guy's is particularly loud…

"And that is how you can legally get away with murder."

The other man looks up. He wears glasses and has a stern expression on his face, not unlike Juror No. 4 in the movie "Twelve Angry Men." If you were to mention this to him, he would remind you that "Twelve Angry Men" was originally a play and not a movie (though technically it was a teleplay first). In any case, there's a resemblance, even if he lacked the acting talent to portray the character.

"No." he said. "Never say those things again."

The two women seated ignored him, one of them reading the textbook and the other with earbuds in her ears, listening to the recording she made of the lecture.

Meanwhile, the librarian, Algernon, made his way slowly through with the cart of books, all needing to be returned to their shelves.

Algernon was a man who looked well beyond his years. At age 32, his skin was pale and his face seemed to be sunken in. One could swear that there were some premature lines on his face. His dark hair was matted and unkempt, and he wore round spectacles. He moved slowly and deliberately, as though afraid of stepping in the wrong place. One wonders if he was even capable of pushing the cart, but that'd be a stupid question, as he was doing so just fine. He spoke in a voice so soft and spoke so little that one could easily be led to assume he had no voice at all.

After he had made his rounds, returning books to the shelves, he returned to his desk at the front of the library. Opening his drawer he took out one of those boxes of pills people use to divide their medication over the course of a week. He took his pills for the day, along with the glass of water he always had at his desk, and placed his pills back in the drawer.

The pills were for the stomach pains he endured, for whatever reason. Not like they helped much, but at least he could feel somewhat better for at least taking something. Algernon was a creature of habit, anyway. He had always been fond of having a safe, easy routine that he could depend upon.

Oh, how that had let him down.

The people gradually left the library, going home to get some sleep or do whatever it was they did at home. Unimportant. Eventually, the only two people left in the library were its librarian and one of the female law students, who had fallen asleep while her study-buddies had gone home. Algernon stood up and listened intently. Nobody else there. He slowly made his way over to the sleeping girl, careful not to make a sound.

Soon he was standing over her, and he bent over, his mouth to her neck. When he drew back, her neck was bleeding slightly, but he pulled a vial from his pocket, opened it, and poured a little of the contents on the wound, making it heal.

"Ma'am?" Algernon asked softly.

"Hmm?" the girl asked groggily, waking.

"It's closing time." Algernon said. "You should go home now."

"Okay." The girl said, getting her things together. "Thank you for waking me." She said as she left, but she was stopped.

She had bumped into a man who was walking in. A very tall, handsome man in a dark, expensive-looking coat with an equally expensive-looking hat.

"Pardon me," he said, smiling and tipping his hat. The woman gave him an odd look and walked out.

"Ahh," the man said, "you can't court 'em like you used to be able. But maybe I'm just nostalgic."

"Library's closed." Algernon said stiffly.

"Which is why I'm here now and not when it's open and full of other people." The man said, taking his hat off, revealing a head full of blonde hair, and showing how pale his skin was. He was a vampire. "Now, where is Algernon?"

"What do you want?" Algernon asked. "And who are you?"

"Oh! We haven't been introduced." He said, laughing a little. "I am Sir Roderick Morgan." He said.

"Sir?" Algernon asked. "There are no 'Sirs' here in America."

"Perhaps not, but I don't really care. Now, where's Algernon?"

"Standing." Algernon said.

Roderick seemed confused. "You…?" he asked, looking closely. Algernon opened his mouth, showing his teeth. "Oh." Roderick said. "No offense. It's just that you don't really look like one would expect a vampire to-"

"I keep track of books. I don't pose for magazines." Algernon said bluntly. "What do you want?"

"I was wondering about a sort of business arrangement." Roderick said, nodding his head. "I'm always one to look into expanding my flock."

"'Flock?'" Algernon asked. "Pardon me if I'm behind on the lingo."

"Prey." Roderick said. "I've noticed that you don't seem to be really using yours very much. Now, I wouldn't dream about infringing on your prey, unless you make an agreement to sell or give them to me." He smiled. "Now, if you aren't feeding from all of them-"

"I am." Algernon said. "What leads you to assume that I don't?"

Roderick raised an eyebrow. "Two things – a lack of deaths around your area-"

"You think I want to attract attention to me by having people dead?" Algernon cut him off.

"Don't interrupt me!" Roderick said suddenly, a sort of harsh violence in his tone. Algernon sat down. "Also," he continued, his tone becoming more unassuming, "you certainly don't look like someone who'd been feeding from a bunch of people, fatal or otherwise."

"I have to avoid being seen." Algernon said. "Keep anything from being noticed. That means I can't eat that much, and only when conditions are right."

"I see." Roderick said. "Point of the matter is, would you be willing to sell any of your flock?"

"No." Algernon said, standing up.

"Are you certain?" Roderick asked. "Very well." He said, placing the hat on his head. "You know, I don't see you out and about. Not at the other vampire gatherings."

"That's because I don't attend." Algernon said. "Not one for parties."

Roderick smiled, as though on the verge of chuckling. "Good night, Algernon." He said, exiting the library.