The little boy followed his father downstairs, jittery from all of the sugar he had eaten. A party hat still rested on his head, announcing his sixth birthday. All of the guests from the party had left, streamers still littering the floor.

"Where did mommy go?" the boy questioned his father. His father looked down into his son's eyes. They were big, bright blue, and full of wonder. His eagerness to see what his father had for him had made his excitement shoot through the roof.

The father showed his son towards the basement, "Mommy had to work, my son, but she'll be back later." It was difficult to lie to your own son in such a way, but the man had practiced everything. He had to do what he had to do.

The stairs to the basement creeked on their weight. The father glanced towards his son. His son trusted him more than anyone else within this world, idolizing his father. Now, he was about to break that trust, but it would be worth it.

A cool breeze could be felt from the basement door that led outside. The boy giggled as his feet his the cold ground, "What now, Daddy?"

The father led his son to a table that sat near in the back of the basement. Dim candles hung from the wall, casting an eerie glow across the stone wall. The boy hesitated, his lip quivering slightly.

"Daddy," the fear was evident in his voice, "what's going on? I'm scared." The boy looked at his father, hoping that he'd turn around and they could go back upstairs. Maybe they could play with his new toys he had received from family.

The father knelt down, just as he practiced, "Now son, would I let anything hurt you? Ever?" The boy shook his head, indicating his trust for his father. "We're just going to play a little game. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The boy smiled, showing a few missing teeth, "YES DADDY!" His excitement had peeked again, and the boy raced towards the table, examining the wood. Straps were binded to the surface. Pulling on them, the boy asked, "What are these for, Daddy?"

"It's all part of the game. Here," the man picked his son up, setting him on the table, "lie down and I'll explain the rules, okay?" The boy obeyed his father and kept silent as his dad strapped his son to the table. Trust between a father and son was strong, but the one who dares to break that trust, must face the consequences.

The father looked down at his son once more, kissing his forehead, whispering a soft, "I love you," before beginning his plans. Walking to another table in the room that held the tools needed to carry out this ritual, the father picked up a knife. Engraved on the handle were his intitials, a present from his father so long ago.

As he turned around, the father watched the hopeful smile fade from his son's lips.

"Daddy? Daddy, what's that for?" the fear crept back into the son's voice.

The father did not answer. If he did, he may break, and he needed to stay strong in order for this to work. Walking towards his son, the father's footsteps echoed thoughout basement. Cries errupted from the son's throat, but the father would not hesitate.

"DADDY! DADDY STOP!" The father began drawing the necessary symbols on his son's skin with the knife. Bright red blood dripped from the open wounds. The knife gleamed in the candle light.

The son had stopped screaming, resorting to crying as his father continued slicing his pale skin. This ritual had to be completed before the boy's mother returned home. She would complicate things if she interrupted.

Walking back to the table, the father waited before continuing. He took a moment to breath, pushing his son's cries away from his mind.

"It will be worth it," the father whispered.

The leather book seemed to glow under the father's touch. He turned to the required page, running his fingers over the bolded words on the page. The father picked it up, making his way back towards his son.

He whispered one word, and the word sent his son into an intense screaming fit.

Diabolus.

I bolted up, only to be blinded by the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Just peachy," I hissed into the air. My alarm clock blared throughout my room, and I had to slam my hand down to hush it. Climbing out of bed, I tried to comprehend the dream I just had. It felt so real. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember the faces of the father and son. They were just blurred images within my mind.

Getting ready for school, I tried my best to remember anything from my nightmare. However, the only thing that pushed its way through my mind was a single word.

Diabolus.

The word seemed to echo thoughout my brain as I walked down the sidewalk. The sun was already steaming, meaning today would be very hot. I wasn't particularly looking forward to this first day of school.

My junior year.

I guess I kind of hoped that by now I still wouldn't be such an outcast. I guess I thought that people would somehow start liking me. Who was I kidding? Vladimir Tod. My name was cursed to forever stand for the boy who could fit in nowhere.

Being so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice the hurried footsteps closing in behind me. A body slammed into me, causing me to loose my footing. I began falling, but picked myself up and prepared for attack.

I turned only to find a blonde teenager laying on the ground, laughing.

"Not funny, Henry," I said, walking away before he had a chance to get up. Henry sprinted to catch up with me, all the while trying to control his laughter.

Wiping away tears, he finally stopped giggling, "Sorry man. What's your problem? Someone wake up on the wrong side of the coffin?"

I rolled my eyes. Henry, the only person to know my secret next to my family, always loved to make jokes about vampires. Most of the time, they were not funny, at all. In fact, they usually followed stupid stereotypes, such as coffins.

"My problem," I said, walking backward so I could face him, "is that my best friend is possibly the most annoying human being to walk this planet."

Henry bowed, "Why thank you, sir! I do try my best."

As we walked, Henry rambled on about some girl he was talking to on the internet last night. I semi-listened to his rant, but I was more interested in the sidewalk then Henry's love life. We rounded the corner, Bathory High School coming into view. Teenagers were huddled in groups, girls hugging one another as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

A group of popular kids called over to Henry. He glanced over at me and I nodded, assuring him that I didn't care if he went. In fact, I wanted the alone time. I needed time to think. Walking up the stairs, I followed other juniors to the gym, where I picked up my schedule and locker number.

Finding my locker, I threw my backpack inside and took out a pencil and notebook.

"Vladimir Tod, looks like we're going to be locker neighbors."

I swore under my breath. I knew that voice anywhere.

Meredith Brookstone.

Meredith and I had dated the previous year. However, I had to end it to protect her. The image of her on the laying ground and crying flooded my head.

I put on my best fake smile, "Hey there Meredith."

She was wearing a pink dress. Her chocolate brown hair was curled, falling over her shoulders. I had to resist the urge to brush a piece of her hair behind her ear. Meredith was beautiful, stunning even. Her eyes were serious, slight purple circles could be seen under her eyes. I couldn't help but feel completely guilty.

"So," Meredith leaned against the locker, crossing her arms over her chest, "are we going to discuss what happened last year or what? You didn't even bother to text me back. I didn't even get a proper explanation."

It actually hurt to look at her. "Mere, there's just a lot a can't explain and I-"

"Can't tell me?" she interrupted. "That's what they always say, Vladimir."

The bell rang throughout the hall. She looked at me, the pain evident in her eyes.

"Can we talk later?" Meredith sounded small, scared in a way. Maybe she was scared of hearing the truth.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing my bangs from my eyes, "I don't know." Turning away, I made my way to my homeroom, not daring to look back at her.