Pain slithered across the young fledgling's body as he whined. His body was covered in sweat, soaking the bed and clothes. It was the middle of the day, so no one was there to watch this strange show. The room was silent, only the sounds of his faint squirming could be heard through the dark, windowless room. His bed was the farthest one from the door, presumably so he wouldn't attack anyone trying to bring in a new patient.

The board at the end of his bed read a number of things, how long he'd been there, what medications he was on, how old he was as a fledgling, and of course, his name. Mark Williams. Later, perhaps he might find the fact that Mark got marked funny.

His eyebrows creased around his sapphire outlined crescent moon. His mouth opened, and he let out a moan of pain. A bubble formed on his forehead, popped, disappeared. Then another appeared, and another. The skin slowly seemed to burn and fizzle into the black colour of tar. His mark seemed to be poisoned, and soon filled in with that black bubbling tar, even the outline had turned dark.

Once the change was completed, he relaxed. His mouth closed, his eyebrows spread flat, his breathing returned to normal. All was silent once more.

The following morning left Mark rudely awakened by one of the nurses surprised screams of shock. He hissed a curse at her as he sat up, holding his forehead. God, he had a horrid headache. What the fuck had happened yesterday? Did he get absolutely smashed and decide that stair-surfing was a good idea?

…Oh, right. He felt for the tattoo marking on his forehead and sighed. He was now the thing he'd been fighting against since he'd learned about their so called talent.

He sighed, well, there was nothing for it now. He was either going to die, or he was going to become a vampyre. He wished they'd had the decency to at least spell the damn word right. There really shouldn't be a 'y' in there. It looks stupid and if you actually said it correctly, it also sounded stupid. It was even a pain to spell like that.

Mark slowly stood off the bed, smirking to himself when the nurse jumped and readied herself for a fight. Geez, he was hungry. When was the last time he'd eaten? He fumbled forward and almost fell. He clutched the bed opposite him in the hopes to save himself. He pushed himself upright once more.

"You should be resting." The nurse advised with a frown.

"You should fuck off." Mark replied simply. "I'm hungry, in pain, and pissed. I'd like to deal with at least one of those problems."

The nurse heaved a sigh before helping him back onto his bed. Her eyes met the young fledgling's new mark and she froze, staring at it for a moment.

"Stay here and I'll get your mentor." She muttered, "They'll bring you to some food." She hurried off before Mark could refuse.

He wouldn't have anyway. He'd researched the whole vampyre school life thing that they had going on in all the House of Nights. He knew he'd have a mentor and he knew he'd have to deal with them. He also knew he'd probably have a Nyx-loving, average-teenage, annoying, lady-obsessed roommate, too. Fucking grand.

She returned shortly, helping him stand before he slapped her hands away and stood on his own. "I'm a vampyre, right? Shouldn't I have some amazing ability to heal or some shit?"

"…Yes, actually." The nurse hissed curtly. "You should be more grateful. The great goddess Nyx has chosen you-"

He snorted, and she glared at the fledgling.

Soon, his mentor walked into the room, in all her southern glory.

Stevie-Rae frowned was she joined the twosome. "Ya'll called?"

Mark glared at his mentor, feeling a growing sense of hatred toward the woman. Stevie-Rae returned the stare, though she seemed to be looking at a spot just above Mark's eyes. She would have to talk to Zoey about that… strange mark later. She didn't really see a point in bringing it up now, and possibly make Mark have another violent fit.

"Yes, it seems Mark here is feeling good enough to eat." The nurse stated harshly, breaking the staring contest. Apparently, he'd over stayed his welcome. Just fine with him.

"Oh, well…" She looked at the young man, "…What do you want to eat?"

"Fucking anything, at this point." Mark hissed, making the blond woman frown. "Well… alright." She muttered, turning to lead Mark through the halls of the school, leaving behind the rather disgruntled nurse.

"…This would be cool, if I hadn't been forced to live here against my will." Mark mumbled, looking at the castle walls.

"You don't have to live here." Stevie-Rae frowned.

"Yeah," he snorted, "Because I'm in a big hurry to die."

Her frown grew more pronounced. "Why is it that you don't like vampyres, Mark?"

"They way they hold themselves." Mark started, "The fact that they think they're so fucking talented."

"Well… isn't that true? I've only ever met talented vampyres." Stevie-Rae muttered, looking at her fledgling.

His face darkened, "Haven't you ever thought about how those people would have been if they'd remained human? They'd be just as talented, wouldn't they? It's not the mark that makes the talented vampyre, it's the human before the mark that makes the talented vampyre." He hissed, "I learned about vampyres and their supposed goddess given talents and exceptional abilities when I was a child. From that point on I'd dedicated my life to being just as good as any vampyre in the things I have talent in.' He laughed humorlessly, "But then I got marked, and I can't do anything about it."

"Oh." The professor's eyebrows creased as she looked forward, "Well, now you can prove how good of a vampyre you will be."

"If I don't die horrifically." Mark snapped, "And I don't want to be turned into one of you." He added harshly. "If I'm not good enough for your goddess the first time, then I won't force my company upon her fellows."

"…You're a very unhappy person." Stevie-Rae stated simply, making Mark laugh.

"Only around people I don't like." He purred.

They reached a set of old wooden doors, the sounds of students eating, talking and laughing. Stevie-Rae gave the fledgling a sideways glance, eyeing his odd marking. She debated about letting him know. The other fledglings would surely talk to him about it, though on the other hand, he'd probably get really mad and yell at her if he thought they'd done something to him to make him more vampyre-like… or something.

She sighed, "The food is all in the kitchen, eat whatever you want." She explained, "I'll return to introduce you to your roommate. I just need to speak to the High Priestess."

"I suppose letting me eat anything I want is somehow supposed to make up for the fact that my life has essentially been raped by your entire species?" Mark snorted, "Whatever. Don't bother coming back. I'd rather sleep in the hall than share a room with some shiteating waste of space."

The vampyre gave an angry huff. This child would be a pain to work with. She turned on her heel and stomped away.

Mark sighed. She didn't actually seem all that bad, but what had been forced upon him was unforgivable… at least for now. He pushed open the doors, ignoring the few people that looked up to see who'd walked in. He walked straight to the kitchen, taking the route that had the least amount of people at tables.

A boy had stood up when he walked passed, following him into the kitchen. Mark ignored him as he opened up one of the many cupboards to reveal several boxes of cereal. He ignored them and moved to the fridge, opening it and searching until he found milk. He poured himself a glass and found some bread, making some toast.

"Hey there, are you the guy that came in with the injured tracker?" The boy asked.

Mark huffed, turning to get a better look at his stalker. The boy was taller than him, with a good-fellow stupid kind of face. He looked like the poster child for 'ignorance is bliss', having a dopey smile that made him look Disney-worthy. He wore a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, with a jacket over it with a weird little decoration on it. His mark was the same as Mark's, a sapphire crescent moon. It was partially covered by his curly blond hair. He had to admit his eyes were kind of cool, he'd always liked green eyes, even if they were mostly brown.

"…Yes I am." The older boy cocked an eyebrow at the taller fledgling. "Why?"

"I'm your roommate!" The boy grinned, looking even more childlike.

Oh sweet Jesus no.

"Ah… that's good to know." Mark smiled, or at least he tried to, it was really more of a grimace. "…But, unfortunately, I was given other living quarters."

The boy's face crumbled into sad puppy-dog sort of expression. "…Really?" He pouted.

"Yes." The black haired teen huffed, "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Is it because of your weird mark?" The taller teen asked.

"What?"

"I mean, I'd be okay with it. Maybe you'll be like our High Priestess! She had a weird mark, too! It would be totally cool to be your friend if that happened!" He blinked a few times before his face heated, "I mean… it would be cool to be your friend anyway…"

Mark felt his eye twitch. He walked over to the bathroom by the exit into the cafeteria and looked in the mirror.

It was weird. Filled in, and black… he sighed. Of course something like this would happen to him. He couldn't just be a normal fledgling, he had to be special and get attention. Unwanted attention.

"…Did you… not know?" The boy asked from the door, looking at Mark with a slight, worried frown. "I'm sorry."

"How old are you, again?" Mark turned to the other teen, who jumped.

"…I'm seventeen."

The younger teen frowned. Seventeen? He could have sworn he was fifteen or something. Mark sighed. He was sixteen. This… metrosexual boy-band bitch was taller and older. Made him feel just great about himself.

"Well… you, I'd appreciate it if you just brushed off my mark and… actually, refrained from talking to me at all." The dark haired fledgling huffed.

The seventeen year old looked as if he was about to cry. Fuck.

"…But… why? Is it something I said?" He frowned, "Is it because I'm… so…"

"Girly?"

"Yeah, I can't help it, I just am. Maybe it's because both my parents are women, maybe I'm just like that, but…" The older boy sniffed.

Mark frowned and glared at the taller teen. He was so innocent it burned. With a sigh, "…It's not because I dislike you, I just don't like… anything to do with vampyres."

"...Really?" He perked up.

"…Yes, really." Mark huffed, "…And I… lied about living somewhere else. I'm still your roommate."

He squealed. Honest to god, he did.

He ran over and hugged Mark, making the younger cringe. "Fuck! Don't touch me!" He hissed, making the older teen laugh and pull away. "You're like my cat." He grinned, "Half the time, I think he hates me, too."

"…Smart cat." Mark muttered quietly. "So what's your name, kid?"

"Harold." The older teen grinned.

"…Harold." Mark sighed, wiping his face in a sort of weak form of disbelief. "Alright, how about I just call you something less…" he frowned, "I'll just call you Harry, kay?"

"Can I call you Marry?!" Harold burst.

"…No." The younger fledgling sighed, "If I'm going to room with you, you've got to understand some things. First, I hate anything that has to do with vampyres. Needless to say, I'll hate everyone here. I made it my life's work to be better than a vampyre, so this is kind of like your goddess's way of shitting in my mouth."

"…Ew." Harry frowned.

"Second, I don't like… touchy, feely… huggy shit. Don't do it." He paused, "I also don't like cats. I've always been more of dog person."

The older boy nodded, smiling widely.

The weird fledgling huffed, resting his hands on his hips. "You're just a happy little bundle of rainbows, aren't you?" He muttered.

"I believe that everyone's a good person, somewhere." Harry paused, "…Like, you're scrooge, but for vampyres instead of Christmas."

Mark sighed, massaging his temples. "Yeah, alright. Scrooge. Whatever. Where am I living anyway?"

"In the boys' dorms."

"…Yes." The weirdly marked fledgling shook his head. "Where is it?"

"Oh." The blond frowned, "Well, I can show you after you eat." He shrugged, "It's outside."

Mark sighed and nodded, taking a bite out of his toast.

Immediately, he gagged, having to lean over the sink as vomit practically flew from his body. Harry squeaked, saying something about getting someone before he ran off suddenly.

Was he… going to die already? Isn't that what kids here did? When they got sick, they died? The dark haired teen rested a hand on his forehead as he tried to calm his suddenly churning stomach. Clearly, the goddess must've gotten tired of him talking smack about her.

Finally.

He would be able to leave this mess. He wouldn't even have to put up with Harold and his grumpy scrooge-cat.

…Though, he did seem like a nice kid, overall. He snorted to himself at how fast he'd started feeling more friendly toward the women-raised boy.

He opened his eyes. Ah, so vampyres didn't disintegrate anything they ate as humans upon marking. Good to know. The smell was awful, making him lift his head.

Bad idea.

His head swam and he ended up over the sink again.

By the time Stevie-Rae and that damned High Priestess showed up, He was already dry heaving nothing into the toilet, having already puked up lung. Ah, not literally, thankfully.

"Oh my goodness!" Stevie-Rae twanged as she hurried over, pulling Mark's hair away from his face. "…I don't see any blood." She frowned.

"What was he doing before he started puking?" Zoey asked Harry, who was nervously hovering around the doorway.

Harry fidgeted, looking uneasy and pale. "Well… h-he was talking, and then he ate some food and started throwing up…" He explained softly.

The vampyre found the forgotten piece of toast, picking it up to look it over, presumably trying to find any mold or anything else that might have caused such an instant reaction. She frowned, looking down at Mark.

Mark. She stared. His mark was different. Maybe… he…

She rushed off, telling Stevie-Rae to get Mark cleaned up and bring him to his dorm, because she had to test something.

Later, Mark sat on his new bed, glaring at his mentor and roommate, who sat on the bed opposite.

The two sides of the room were polar opposites.

On Harry's side were many posters of popular games, anime's and what looked like Disney films. His furniture was all clearly picked out by his mom, all pale wood that matched together without looking very expensive. His bedding was of Woody and those toy story characters. His lamp looked suspiciously like Pixar's little mascot… lamp.

The other half was decidedly darker. Dark bedspread, dark tables, tiny little green lamp, and an assortment of incredibly fluffy pillows, as well as a well-stocked bookcase.

The High Priestess knocked softly on the door before she came in, a bottle in her hand. Of what it held, no one could tell because the bottle was made of metal and painted chrome blue. He knew there was some kind of liquid because it shlopped around inside.

She stood next to Mark, offering him the bottle. "Try drinking a little bit of this. I want to see if your mark altered you in any way."

"Like I'd drink anything you give me." Mark slapped the bottle away, knocking it to the floor.

Zoey sighed, reaching down to pick it up. "You know, we've been nothing but nice to you and all you do is complain, you could be a little kinder toward us, it wouldn't hu-" She was cut off when Mark snapped a hand to her wrist, stopping her from grabbing the bottle.

His body was stiff as a board as he stared down at the bottle, breathing deeply. There was a smell coming from it. An intoxicating, inviting, dark smell. Like the touch of flesh in a darkly lit room. He reached over and grabbed it. The seal had broken on the bottle, leaving it partially open. He opened it like a kid opening a Christmas present he thought was breakable, being so careful that it might explode, but moving as fast as he dared to get at the contents. Once opened, the smell exploded in the room, leaving him shivering with need to get at the dark liquid inside.

Without a second thought, he tilted his head back and downed it, trying desperately to make gravity work faster, shoving his tongue in the bottle to get as much as he could. The flavor was sweet, warm and… it completed him somehow, as if a little part of himself had been stripped away, and he hadn't known it wasn't there until he got it back. He shuddered, a small feeling of emptiness growing in his gut. The liquid hadn't been quite right, like it was missing something, or maybe it wasn't the right container to drink from.

He dropped the bottle and sat up, looking at his shaky hands in a sort of shock. "…What the fuck was in that bottle?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Zoey smiled sadly, as if she hadn't wanted to be right. "…Blood." She answered simply.

It was like his heart had stopped. He felt dirty, disgusting. He'd felt so drawn to the liquid life of something he used to be. It was almost funny how he'd need to depend on the thing he'd wanted to stay. Human's never had to depend on vampyres. He was turning into a worse creature than he'd expected. He'd done his research, fledglings aren't supposed to get bloodlust until they were older into the change. Much older.

What kind of sick, twisted joke was their goddess pulling?

REVIEW CHALLENGE:

What do you think of Harry?

How about what I did with the original crew?

How do you feel about Mark? (He's not very likable right now for a reason.)

I can't decide where exactly I should go with this story. I know what I want from it, but I'm not sure if I want to focus on romance, or adventure as the main genre. (Romance will get more porn, adventure will get more... ah, I don't know yet.)

Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to get a bigger chapter out, and I'm in the process of moving house. I live with a dog now :D
She's so cute. She's a black lab/ corgi. Yeah. yeah. the corgi was the mom. Yup.

If you want to see pictures of her, she's on tumblr, but I'm not supposed to post links, so just pm me if you really really want to see.