From Edith Hamilton's Mythology Timeliness Tales of Gods and Heroes:

"…Black-winged Night

Into the bosom of Erebus dark and deep

Laid a wind-born egg, and as the seasons rolled

Fourth sprang Love, the longed-for, shining, with

wings of gold." (63).

Chapter One

Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, I saw a dead guy standing by my locker. At first, I didn't even recognize him as my friend Darren continued to tell the newest off color joke that his father happened to hear. He was standing there acting it out. "He had his hand here…" He put it on the left butt cheek of the imaginary man in front of them, "No here…" He put it on the right taking away his left. Then he put both of them down, "Hey wait…"

Darren laughed as he always did, which seemed to come deeper than his stomach. Of course, he would always laugh loudest at his joke. I let out a short laugh that turned into a few steady coughs. I hated being sick, but I figured it would go away soon after a couple days of non-stop coughing. Darren slapped me on the back a couple times as if to put me out of breath instead of stopping my coughs.

Darren was the centerpiece of our small little group, while for all intensive purposes I was an outsider they happened to let into their circle. "So, Derek, are you going to be drinking with us tonight after the game?" The game they were talking about was the football game. They played the sport, while I played in the band. It was less humiliating knowing that my friends played and I was JUST friends with the people in the band which was easier done than said.

I went to a small school out in the boonies. There were only roughly 300 people in the kindergarten through twelve grades. I was friends with the football players, although the only sport I had any talent in was running. "Well, I'll hang out. You know I don't drink. I'll probably be around until after the game is over."

"Sure thing, bro." Darren slammed his locker shut and made his way down the hallway towards the gymnasium. Coach Saunders would be there waiting for each of them to give them a loud lecture about how pathetic they were. Darren knew I didn't drink. I played their designated driver every week for the last four months.

It was then that I realized the man was standing next to the other locker. The blue crescent moon seemed to glow in the light of the mid-afternoon coming from the north doors that led out to the cars. "Oh shit," was the only words that seemed to aptly describe the sensation of him moving close to me.

The vampyre was handsome to say the least. He stood about half a foot taller than me, but he had the whitest blonde hair that was left shaggy. He spoke the words with a melody I'd only heard vampire artists speak. They floated between us like a prelude to my personal requiem. It was the beginning of an ancient ceremony I did not want to be a part.

"Derek Johnson! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee; hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night."

He lifted his left hand and pointed it directly at me. Fire exploded from my head, and I knew I looked remarkably like Harry Potter grabbing his forehead and slamming backwards into a locker. I heard the door to my English teacher's classroom swing up, and then I heard her scream.

The pain my forehead receded like the tides as my vision began to focus. The frumpy form of my English teacher stood before me her eyes wide with fear, while her finger pointed at my head paralleling what the vampyre had done a few seconds before.

"Der…Der….on your…" She was blubbering in her deep masculine voice. She couldn't seem to get any sort of word out except something that sounded like an engine revving up to start.

I took a step towards her, "Miss Wilde…" I reached out my hand and she let out the squeal of a rodent seen stealing cracked. She took two steps back as she grabbed the cross on her neck. I shook my head, "I'm not really different…" Even as I finished the line, I let out several deep coughs that seemed to tear at the inside of my throat to get out.

A second step towards her caused her to turn around and run down the hallway. I brought my hand up to my forehead and rubbed it gently. The burning within it passed, and it took me a second to remember what now rested on the center of my forehead. I did not need to actual see the mark to know what it was. There would be an outline of a crescent moon on my forehead. "I need to get to a House of Night…"

My words hung in the air like an eerie noise in a haunted house. Everyone knew about the House of Night in Minneapolis, but no one really talked about it. You watched vampyres on television; you listened to vampyres on the radio; you did not become vampyres. South Dakota did not have vampyres. Well, we did, (Bob Barker or Dan Rather were the famous exceptions) but it wasn't something we talked about regularly.

I pushed through the doors, forgetting about the bag of schoolbooks I left on the floor of the hallway. "Mom, I've been marked, my entire world has turned upside down, and now I'm going to be a pariah of my former school. Gotta go, Vampyre Prep School, here I come." The conversation sounded as ridiculous out loud as it did in my head. It was then I realized I forgot my books. I paused for a second wondering whether or not I needed to get them. I opted to go back. I walked into the hallway, where Miss Wilde stood with the principle.

Principle McMillan seemed as wide eyed as Miss Wilde had been. The difference, his mouth created an opening large enough for a fist (maybe two). "Yes, I've been marked." I moved over and grabbed my backpack. "The first person in Blue Valley, yay! You should call KSDJ and announce it on the radio." My anger was boiling at this point. I hated being made a spectacle of, even if it was mostly fear that caused it to be like that. My brother's death put me in the forefront, now this was doing it again. "RAR!" I snarled at them.

They took a step back, but continued to look at me. It took the principle a second but he closed his mouth. "We've…We've called your mother. She is on her way to pick you up right now."

My anger grew inside me like an entire apple tree suddenly sprouting from a single seed. "You called my mom? Don't you think this would be something I'd want to tell them myself!" Other teachers were finding their way into the hallway. There was even a few students who happened to be coming out from the library and the computer lab. Our school was small, and I should have known better than to yell.

I covered my forehead with my hand and walked out the door. I didn't realize how much I'd been coughing. My chest was already beginning to tighten. Vampyres permeated our culture, and scientists seemed to say it had something to do with junk DNA becoming active. That caused the Change. You could not bite someone and make them change, nor could they drink your blood and expect to become one of Night's children. Your junk DNA became active and you became a fledgling or you lived out your life as a human.

Once again, I felt the eyes of everyone staring at me as I sat on the curb. I kept on my angered appearance mostly because I did not want them to know how much I was freaking out. I would lose my friends here. They talked about vampyres like they were abominations from god. They called the fledglings 'little devils' because they were preparing to become vampyres instead of dying as humans. Did that make me no longer human?

I began to cough for several seconds as my mother drove up in our 1990 Pontiac Bonneville. The tightening in my chest was lessening which mean it was probably more stress than outright dying, but I needed to find another vampyre before my body just rejected the metamorphosis completely. Thank god, my mother showed up. I did not know how long I'd been sitting there, but no one had left the school since I sat down. My mom opened the passenger door from the driver's side. She tried to keep a smile on her face as I looked up at her. She clearly glanced at my mark and then down at me. "Come on, Derek. It's not that bad."

I looked up at her, and the anger washed away from my face. As I got up and slumped down in the drivers seat, my mother looked over at the people in the windows and gave them the finger. I couldn't even pretend to be angry as I looked over at her. "You're not angry?"

"Come on, I'm your mother. Your dad isn't going to be too happy about it, but he'll come around. That's the way he is." She put the car into gear and began to drive down the street headed out of town. "I threw some of your things in a bag back there, and I figured we'd get you to the Minneapolis House of Night. I called a head and they are expecting you."

I coughed quite a bit a small amount of blood ending up on the back of my hand. "Do you mind if I try to…"

"No, you need your sleep. It's been a long hour."

I just nodded as I closed my eyes. Part of me wanted to wipe the blue crescent off my forehead or try to hide it with make-up. I wanted to go back to school and laugh at everyone who'd seen me after I was 'marked'. I wanted to pretend that nothing had changed. The other part of me thought about the House of Night. I thought about the world of blood, beauty, and magic in which they lived. I opened my eyes and looked at my mom. She didn't see me looking at her, there was a sadness about her face, she'd already lost one son, now did she think she was losing two?