My Father is a Vampire

Chapter 1


Disclaimer: Gakuen Alice and its characters are rightfully owned by its creator, Tachibana Higuchi.


Author's Note: This was inspired by a one-shot manga I have read before. Unfortunately, I cannot remember the title. I hope you enjoy reading this story. :)


The scent of blood wafted to his nostrils, arousing a desire he has always tried to control. He ran faster and sped through the dark empty streets, following the scent that has alarmed him minutes ago. This time, as he sped through a dark alley, the scent intensified, indicating his proximity to the site of the crime.

That could only be it. He would not be alarmed this much if the blood was just from a cut on a finger. If his senses were correct, and most of the time it is, a lot of blood is already spilled. It might be from a gunshot, or a stab from a knife.

As he got nearer, his assumptions were verified. This is definitely a serious case. He slowed down as he found himself nearing the end of a deserted alley. His eyes adjusted quickly in the dark, glowing a bright red as they did so. And then he saw the body.

There, by the stack of black garbage bags and empty crates, a young man around twenty four years old, sat slouching with his back on the brick wall, his head hanging loosely from his neck. His eyes were wide open, as if frozen in a moment of shock. His upper body was drenched in blood, and a little pool of the dark liquid can be seen on where he sat.

Natsume Hyuuga eyed the dark liquid darkly, as if willing it to disappear right in front of him. This is one of the reasons why he hates his job. He has to encounter this all the time. Blood on crime scenes - blood, blood , blood. It keeps taunting him, as if daring him to take a little sip.

But no, he told himself. He will not stoop so low as to consume blood from a corpse. He is not cut out for that. No matter how much he desires blood, he will not let his lust get the better of him. He's got some work to do. It's high time that he should start working.

He walked towards the body slowly, his leather shoes tapping loudly against the pavement as he walked. He knelt and checked the wounds on the body's upper body. Three stabs. One on the chest and two on the stomach. The wounds were still fresh, and the blood hasn't dried out completely yet either.

The man could have been stabbed only less than an hour ago. He checked the body for other injuries. A slight graze on the cheek, a bruise on his left eye, and red marks on his neck. Could it be from ropes? The wrists have the same red marks as well. He pulled up the man's trousers to check his ankles. The red marks are also there. He inspected the marks closely, and found his assumption to be correct. Those marks were definitely from being tied tightly with ropes. He checked the body for other injuries and found none.

Next comes his clothing. The man was dressed in corporate attire. He was wearing a white long-sleeved polo underneath a black coat. His red necktie was neatly tied underneath his collar. All buttons are buttoned correctly. There isn't a slight crease on his coat, and the white polo underneath the coat was immaculately white, if it were not for the large amount of blood from the wounds staining it.

The black slacks are neat as well, with the appropriate crease in the middle of each pant leg. The victim is still wearing a silver watch on his left wrist. It is not broken. There was also a gold ring on his left middle finger. He held his chin thoughtfully as he pondered on his observations.

There are a lot of things that is not right with this body. The neatness of the clothing, the stab wounds, the position of the body. Everything is not right. He looked around him. There are not even blood splatters on the well. Everything is so damn neat.

He sat on one of the empty crates for a while as he thought of the possibilities. All this time he was looking at the body, investigating it further. He perched his elbows on his knees as he bowed his head down and closed his eyes as he thought about the crime.

The dark alley was eerily silent. All that could be heard in the darkness was the chirping of the crickets, and the occasional meows of nearby alley cats. He just sat there for minutes that seemed like an hour, thinking things over.

And then it hit him. He stood up as he recollected his ideas, making sure that he did not miss anything. He checked out the victim's body again, and a small smirk curved his lips upward. He could not believe that he would come upon the missing puzzle piece tonight.

The case that has been baffling the headquarters for months is now solved. He fished out his mobile phone from his trousers pocket and dialed the headquarters. After a few rings, he heard a cold monotonous voice answer his call.

"Tokyo Police Department. Inspector Imai speaking." The cold female voice from the other line answered.

"Imai. Bring your troops to collect a body at an alley near Beika Street, about two blocks away from the Cosmos pub."

"What have you got there now, Hyuuga?"

"Case 239. Solved." He said as he smirked.

"Come again?"

"Case 239, Larkspur Series of Murders: Solved."

"You have got to be kidding me. Cut it out, Hyuuga. I'm busy."

"I'm serious. I can't recall a time I was not serious when dealing with you."

"Fine. Where are you?"

"At the alley. I found the body just a few moments ago."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"Hn."

"You better be right, Hyuuga. Or else – "

"Save your breath Imai. I have never been wrong."

"Bastard."

"Tch."

And the call ended just like that. He flipped his mobile phone shut and stuffed it in his pocket as he walked out of the alley and headed toward the pub to get a few drinks. This has been a long night. Imai better come quickly so he could go home and get his "sustenance".

He smirked at the thought. He could never believe that in his 200 years of existence, he would be living this kind of life. He used to be the killer, and "sustenance" was never a problem.

Now he is the one pinning down the killer. Moreover, he could not believe that he would be this helpless vampire, dependent on a packet of blood, like a child sipping on a packet of juice. How ironic.

This is all because of that woman. Oddly enough, he does not feel any regret. And that is the nearest to happiness that he could come to.

The End


Author's Note: I'm sorry Mikan is not yet in this chapter. I hope you still liked it though. :D

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