Javert sat up abruptly and ran his tongue along his pointed eye teeth. Carelessly, he drew blood, misjudging how sharp his teeth now were.
"Like them?" Delano asked, eyes glimmering with mischievous light.
"You would think," Javert answered dryly, ending his exploration of the changes he'd undergone abruptly and glaring at the vampire with defiant stoniness. Delano merely chuckled at him.
"Your efforts to conceal your fascination are a waste of time. You are silly to even think for a moment that I would not know how good it feels to obtain such power as you have now. You love it. I do not doubt that in the least," Delano said, confidently.
"You should, for you are most horribly mistaken," Javert replied, unconvincingly. He pulled himself to his feet and looked down at himself and at his surroundings as if he'd never laid eyes upon the scene before. "I'm wet, but I can't feel the chill," he remarked under his breath.
"It is because you are already as cold as death," Delano responded, thoughtfully, gazing at Javert strangely. The inspector noticed this.
"You enjoy staring at me. Why? You wish to look upon your creation, is that it? Admiring your work? You're a brute, that's what. An evil monster damned to prowl the night," Javert spat.
"Same as you," Delano retorted.
"Did you do it for company? So I may share in your suffering?" Javert asked, poisonously.
"I did it to save you," he said, patiently. Javert inwardly fumed with rage, trying to keep calm in front of the fiend.
"But I haven't sold my soul, I haven't… done anything wrong, I'm not a criminal, I haven't gone against anything good-"
"Unless God has condemned you to follow me because of your suicide attempt at the bridge," Delano replied, voice rising and interrupting Javert's incessant rambling.
"You're mocking me," he growled.
"Yes, I am," de Roux replied.
"But you are right," he answered in near-horror. "What shall I do now; I couldn't stand to live like this!"
"You must," the vampire said. "You are immortal and cannot be killed."
"What about the sunlight!" Javert protested.
"Firstly, I would not allow you to try to kill yourself if the sun could destroy us. Secondly, it cannot. The stories are not true, but have been exaggerated over time with basis in fact. We are not killed by sunlight, but merely could become blinded by it because it is just too strong for our acute sense of sight. We are nocturnal because of this. We sleep during the day and while we're in our slumber, we immediately fall into a deep state of unconsciousness that we cannot be awaken from until evening falls once more," Delano explained.
"You make it sound as if you want me to live like this," Javert said, resentfully.
"Quite frankly, it's not what I want; it's what I will have because you, my friend, have absolutely no choice as to your fate from now on. It's in my hands and you'd best mind me, so shut up and pay attention," Delano said icily, voice rising again. He looked quite menacing when angered, his teeth bared and eyes flushed as if they made up for the color that was nonexistent in his pale face. "You will do everything I say or you will find yourself in an even more unfortunate position than you ever were before. I am not the only one of my kind, and others would gladly get rid of you in the blink of an eye."
"You said you couldn't be killed," Javert shot back, not even swayed by the vampire's frightening appearance, and refusing to refer to vampires as his own kind.
Delano regained his composure and pursed his lips in effort to keep from bursting out again. Instead, he talked with a cool air, inching closer and closer toward the inspector as he spoke. "No, we cannot be killed. But understand this; there are things we have discovered that are far worse than death. Once they're through with you, you'll be wishing you could die just to end the pain. You would not believe how vampires feel it. It is excruciating and you would not be so cocky if you came across one who does not mind watching his own become insane."
By this time he had grasped Javert by the neck and was right in his face so that all the inspector could do was stare into the vampire's eyes, unable to pull away from his cold, strong grasp while he continued. "Trust me, follow me, and you will be saved a torture you would rather die from. I am not the worst of my kind. You are lucky to have caught my attention, and not another's. If not for me, you'd be dead. Shape up, monsieur, or you will find yourself a gibbering creature without a brain wandering about the streets blindly for the rest of your miserable existence, which will be forever. It will be your own private hell!"
Delano shoved Javert back a few feet for emphasis as he spat those last words and the newly created vampire staggered and gasped for air. He had been affected by de Roux's speech, and though he steadily glared, Javert felt his hands trembling slightly.
"You cannot protect me," Javert muttered, shaken. "I will not follow you."
"Then you draw your own fate. A life of madness, you stubborn fool," the vampire replied, coolly.
"I will live as normally as I can, and will not embrace your pitiful race of devil worshippers," Javert insisted. "It will be as if it were all a dream." And he strode off without a second glance. Of course he expected that Delano would follow him or try to stop him. The vampire just stood there and watched the inspector pass through the trees. He knew he would return.
Javert stepped quickly over roots and rocks in the path, striding swiftly through the forest and trying not to pay attention to the nagging voice in the back of his mind which kept warning him of the danger he could be in if he didn't stick by his maker.
"I'm better off without him," he said to himself. "I can handle myself. I'm doing fine. I am a human, and I refuse to live like a demon. I will eat food and drink wine. There is nobody to stop me from that. I have no urge to kill people, to drink from them. Ah, drink. I must drink, I am most terribly thirsty. No matter. There is an inn not too far away if I can remember straight. I will follow the gas lights up on the street. Why aren't I walking the street like a normal man?"
He climbed up the hill and out of the forest, making his way onto the road, continuing his brisk pace by the lights. He discovered at once that he did not need them; that he could see better without the street lamps causing him to squint. "This is better than the forest, though. Yes, I hope I make it to the inn, soon…" He licked his parched lips and began to travel faster. After many minutes of this walk, he saw a brighter light in the distance. "Thank God they are so late open," he muttered to himself, breaking into a run and discovering that with his improved body, he was most inhumanly quick. He immediately stopped such a run and forced himself to walk the rest of the way to the homey building, ordinarily.
Javert pushed open the wooden tavern door to be greeted by a noisy threesome of late-night drunks in one corner. The old and ragged bartender was cleaning a table, but when he saw Javert, he quickly stepped behind the counter to get his order. Javert noticed every line in the old man's face, his piercing brown eyes and his bright white hair which hung wildly around his face.
"What'll it be for you tonight, monsieur?" the man asked, gruffly, tiredly.
"A large brandy, if you'd please," Javert answered hurriedly. The bartender eyed him in question as the inspector, pale and disheveled, demanded such a drink so late at night (or early in the morning), but received his request. He was a paying customer after all.
And a good one at that, noted the bartender as Javert carelessly emptied his pockets onto the countertop.
"Here's to be rid of that brute," Javert muttered under his breath before snatching the flask from the old man and drinking deeply from it. A moment later, he spat the alcohol onto the counter, gaining a strange look from his company. "It is horrid," the inspector said, disappointed.
"Take another, on the house," the man said, gruffly.
"I'll take anything else you have," Javert grumbled. "A glass of water will do."
The old man stared, but filled Javert a mug of well-water. A drink of this caused similar effects.
"What is wrong with me," he gasped to himself under his breath. Despite the awful taste, Javert downed the water and gagged, though his throat was no less parched than before. He threw the mug down in frustration and gave a cry of rage.
"Monsieur, you should leave," the bartender said with fright.
"Most definitely," he agreed, rushing from the tavern and slamming the door behind him. He rushed as far away from there as possible, wandering and thinking of what could be happening to him, trying to ignore his terrible thirst.
"I will not drink blood," he whispered to himself. "I won't!" Javert felt his head spin as he hurried along to nowhere in particular. "I won't accept it."
His aggravation was interrupted by the faintest glow of natural light on the horizon and realized that it was the sun trying to rise.
"Damn," he growled to himself, remembering Delano's words.
"We are not killed by sunlight, but merely could become blinded by it because it is just too strong for our acute sense of sight…"
Javert did not like the idea of becoming blinded by a thing such as the sun. He would not stand for that. Even if he didn't care to die, although he could not, now, he couldn't go without being able to see. If he was going to live, he was going to do it with all his senses intact and working.
"I have to get out of here," he murmured, dashing back down into the forest to find somewhere he could protect himself. There was nothing. No boulders in sight, no hollows in trees; he had no time to dig holes and finding shelter in somebody's home was inconceivable. His panic grew with the sun's rays, as although the birds hadn't even begun to chirp, the sky was growing lighter by the minute. Not only was he beginning to feel a slight pain behind his eyes, but he also felt an exhaustion that seemed to be overpowering him with every passing moment.
The inspector staggered out of the woods to come upon a backyard by the river, the twilight still reflecting the moon in the rippling waters. With his head spinning even more than it had been, eyes trying to focus, Javert drunkenly noticed a boat docked on the muddy banks and quickly stumbled in its general direction.
With his last ounce of strength, the inspector sloshed ungracefully into the waters and slipped underneath the boat, protected by the darkness it gave. He remained conscious only long enough to think to himself with utmost astonishment: I am breathing under water…
Then he was overcome by the comforting embrace of a deep sleep.
