Techno tries the door approximately eighteen more times over the course of three days.
He finds it locked every time. Of course, it's routine more than anything. The chances of them forgetting to lock it even once are very slim, and should Techno turn the handle to find the door opening, he doesn't know what he'd do. They'd notice he left the room before he could make it down the stairs. But there's this small part inside him that compels him to try, like an insistent itch that you can't leave alone. Or an open wound you keep picking at while knowing that makes it worse.
The window gets a closer examination too, but the bars are much too solid to afford an opportunity. Techno studies the sight beyond. The glass is kind of frosted over, so he can't see as much as he'd like. He thinks it's a garden of some sort, and sometimes he swears he can see somebody walking around. Hard to say though, he might be going stir-crazy.
Cross that, he's definitely going stir-crazy.
In his old coven, the feeder quarters were a series of rooms he could freely move between. Techno discovered the perfect route for pacing around in the almost circular setup of the spaces. From the dormitory through the kitchen and to the 'enrichment area' or whatever it is the vampires called it. At least until one of the adult feeders got annoyed at his restlessness and yelled at him to stop.
Pacing around in this room isn't the same. It's huge, but he's still staring at four walls all the time. He's searched every nook and cranny by now, and Techno realizes some other humans would probably kill for this amount of luxury. The bed is big enough to fit multiple people, with the softest pillows and blankets Techno has ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. There is a desk, a large settee with a matching reading chair, a coffee table, a chess board, and a bookcase full of books from different time periods. A wardrobe against the opposite wall is filled with clothes of various kinds for him to choose from, all made of rich fabrics and pleasant materials.
The Antarctic Coven went above and beyond to give Techno anything a human could possibly desire in a vampire's eyes.
Despite all this, Techno misses the feeder quarters of his old coven.
Maybe it wasn't very lavish or comfortable, but the humans there were mostly left alone. Unless they were called up to be fed on - something Techno didn't need to deal with - they didn't see a vampire outside of their weekly check-in when the kitchen was stocked and their health assessed. While Techno did hear horror stories about other covens where humans are chained to their cots and literally only served to be sucked dry, those are rare. Vampires enjoy the fact that humans can be more or less self-sufficient. Provide them with food and hygiene items and they can take care of themselves or each other. Enrichment is allowed to make their moods easier to handle. Bored humans get notoriously fickle. If they have their basic needs met though, they're nice and docile. They can even be ignored for a while, in a pinch.
Only once did Techno see that backfire. Not too long ago, actually. The boy had been recently purchased. Eight years old, with sunken eyes and short black hair. He seemed kind of sickly when he arrived, maybe he was another designer line discounted for whatever reason. The coven dumped him in the feeder quarters like they usually did with new humans, then didn't come down for three weeks. In hindsight, Techno supposes they might have been occupied with that same business which led to him being offered as a gift. Pissing off a powerful coven must be awfully distracting, and feeding their humans totally slipped the old coven's mind. Food didn't fully run out after a week, but it was in short supply. The boy was fresh from the nursery, weak and frail. He cried from hunger for days. The other feeders couldn't risk giving him more food, they were trying to ration what little they had.
Then one morning, the boy didn't wake up at all anymore.
One of the adults covered him with a blanket and when the vampires finally came down again, they pointed out what happened. A vampire walked over to the cot, pulled back the sheet covering the boy's face, and scowled slightly in disgust.
"What a waste," they said. They took the body with them when they left.
Grim as that was, Techno still thinks he prefers the hands-off approach where he doesn't have to interact with vampires as often. The Antarctic Coven seems incapable of leaving Techno alone for more than a few hours unless he's asleep.
Techno appreciates that he's not being starved and all, but it makes him wonder if they're doing it on purpose. Phil said they don't have a feeder quarters here, so do they keep all their humans in their own private rooms? That seems incredibly inefficient. Are the humans allowed to free roam? If so, that might be a perfect way to escape and they don't trust Techno enough yet to give him that freedom. For the moment, all his food is hand-delivered by either Phil or Wilbur, and they take him to a bathroom down the hallway upon his request. Techno was incredibly embarrassed by it at first, even if they didn't comment on him opening the tap and leaving the water running while he took care of his needs. Not that it's the sort of thing Techno imagines they're trying to listen in on, most vampires are generally appalled by any human bodily fluid that isn't blood. But their hearing can be quite sharp.
He also picked through all the cabinets, though they were stripped bare of anything truly useful. He was left with nothing but a comb, a toothbrush, and some toothpaste. Techno also scowled at the obscene amount of shampoo, conditioner, and other hair care products that were left for him in the shower. Clearly, they wouldn't want their Blade human to neglect the one thing that visibly made him stand apart as something rare and expensive.
A knock on the door urges him to get up from the bed. Techno doesn't bother with answering, and counts the exactly ten seconds it takes before Wilbur opens the door of his own accord. It's as if they always want to give him the opportunity to grant entry. But failing that, they come in anyway without his consent. Techno feels this is probably representative of everything about this coven. The shallow trick of fake choices they're so fond of.
Techno doesn't trust them not to rescind their promise of not feeding on him without permission either.
"Up and about as usual, I see," Wilbur comments happily. He's even more chipper than usual. Techno takes this as a bad sign. "How are you doing?"
"Fine," Techno says, walking over to the settee. Wilbur is carrying a tray with a plate. He's here to deliver a meal.
"Really? I'd be bored to death if I were you." Wilbur puts the tray down on the coffee table. "Ah, well, if I wasn't already dead anyway." There is a simple sandwich on the plate, delicately cut into triangles. Next to it, Techno sees a bowl of what is most likely a type of fruit. They only give him food that is prepared in such a way he can easily eat it with his hands. Since he attacked Phil with a knife the morning after they brought him, he doesn't get cutlery anymore.
Techno looks down at it for a moment, then back up at Wilbur, waiting for him to leave. Usually, they collect the tray during one of their countless check ups throughout the day, where they ask Techno over and over whether they can bring him anything to make him more comfortable.
Wilbur just smiles, hands on his hips.
Inwardly, Techno recoils a little at the thought of having the vampire watch him eat. Determined not to let his discomfort show, however, he awkwardly picks up the sandwich and shoves half of it into his mouth quickly. The food is delicious. It always is. In a way, it pisses Techno off more. He got used to the tasteless gray paste they gave him in the old coven, scientifically engineered to contain the perfect amount of nutrients for a human to function. The same thing was given to them in the nurseries, and anything else was usually reserved for special occasions or treats. So the fact that the Antarctic Coven hasn't served him anything aside from properly made meals puts Techno on edge.
He finishes the sandwich, then picks up one of the pieces of chopped fruit. Techno thinks he knows what this is, but fresh fruits and vegetables are almost as rare to get for humans as meat is these days. And he doesn't think he ever had one of these himself before. Only read about them.
He pops the strawberry into his mouth and bites down on the juicy flesh.
The taste is surprisingly sweet, with an underlying sourness that balances out nicely. Techno licks his lips, almost wanting to reach for another before Wilbur's voice stops him.
"How do they taste?"
Wilbur is staring at him, so unblinking he looks like a completely different creature. Vampires might resemble humans at a glance. Techno can see the difference in every twitch of Wilbur's grin, wanting to coax a reply out of him.
"We grew them in the garden ourselves," Wilbur adds.
"They're kind of watery," Techno says.
Wilbur nods as if in agreement. Techno isn't completely sure if vampires can taste things the same way humans do. They certainly eat human foods, and since vampires can only get their sustenance from blood Techno must assume anything else they consume is merely for personal pleasure. Textures and flavors, or maybe even the simple act of playing at mortality in some sick way. But if blood reads as appetizing to their taste buds, he can imagine it skewed their perception of normal things.
"Well, I'm certain we'll find other stuff you'll like more," Wilbur says pleasantly. Techno slides the tray away from himself, appetite thoroughly gone under the scrutinizing gaze and Wilbur's delight at him enjoying something for once. "If you're done, we can get going."
"Go where?" Techno asks. Wilbur grins wider.
"Just downstairs, you'll see soon enough." He gestures with one arm towards the door and doesn't move from his spot. Since he's practically between Techno and the table, that means he has to get within Wilbur's reach to scoot by him. Techno knows he's doing that on purpose.
"Lead the way," Techno says passively.
Wilbur laughs, showing off his fangs. "Humans first," he insists.
Techno sighs and steps closer. As expected, Wilbur's hand comes up toward his face as soon as Techno is passing him.
"Perhaps we could braid your hair for the occasion," Wilbur starts, trying to wind his long fingers in the pink strands.
Techno elbows him in the side and walks faster, hearing Wilbur chuckle behind it, and makes it to the door in three long strides. He pulls on the handle again - automatically - vaguely surprised when it opens. Wilbur must not have locked it behind him when he came in. The hallway is empty. Before the thought of running can really properly form, Wilbur has already caught up, taking Techno's upper arm in his hand with a solid grip.
"This way," he orders as they head for the staircase, voice tilting with amusement still at their little routine.
Out of all three of them, Wilbur especially has a tendency to rile Techno up. Often this means trying to touch his hair - or any part of him, but the hair is an easy target and gets a stronger reaction out of Techno. He's not an idiot either. He knows he's playing right into their hands since his defiant behavior is doted on as a display of his authenticity, exactly the sort of temperament a Blade line human is supposed to have. They're enjoying it. But he's having a hard time suppressing his reflexes.
"We'll give you a full tour of the house eventually," Wilbur mentions indifferently, perhaps noticing how Techno's eyes keep darting around. He didn't get a chance to see much of the downstairs when he was brought by Phil since he was practically dragged up to his room within minutes of arriving.
Wilbur opens a door that leads into a classical dining area, a long mahogany wooden table with ten chairs surrounding it the most prominent thing in the room. Techno barely notices it, since he's a bit too preoccupied by the fact that there are other vampires.
Tommy is sitting on the table, swinging his legs off the edge impatiently. Phil is standing next to him, facing away from the door as he's addressing the other two present. One is a man and one is a woman, and both are wearing lab coats.
And they're unloading some type of medical equipment.
Techno recognizes the tubes and plastic bags, the strap already prepared to wrap around a limb and make the veins inside bulge for easier access. His feet stop moving, but since Wilbur doesn't he's pulled further into the room. Phil hears them and turns.
"There you are! We got everything set up for the blood draw." He stops and his face falls as he notices Techno's expression. "What did you say to it?"
"Nothing?" Wilbur's hold on him slackens a little as he tries to appear innocent. "It's just in a bad mood, I guess." Techno uses the chance to wrench his arm loose. He takes a few steps back.
"You're going to draw my blood?" he asks. While it's a common procedure in nurseries, he hasn't been near a needle in quite some time. For some reason the sharp metal being put on the table makes his gut clench with apprehension.
"Of course we are," Phil says, blinking several times as if he doesn't get why Techno might be opposed to that.
"Are you scared?" Tommy pipes up, voice much too gleeful for what the question is. "It's just a little prick."
"We want to do a standard blood analysis," Phil explains. "It'll be over before you know it, promise." He smiles gently at Techno, practically exuding patience. Techno starts to shake his head, attention drawn to the door they came in through. Bolting isn't an option, tempting as it is. But the thought of having his blood drawn sends him reeling. There are four vampires in the room. He's outnumbered. He won't be faster than them. His body wants him to try anyway.
His mistake is that he allows his eyes to dart away.
Wilbur moves too quickly for him to catch, and then his hair is tugged on hard enough to snap his neck back painfully, yanking some of the strands from his scalp. A smothered cry escapes from his throat, though the noise is drowned out by a much louder growl that Techno needs a second to realize is coming from Phil.
"Wilbur!" Phil roars, absolutely furious.
There might not be an inch of vampire instincts inside of Techno, his brain still comes to a sudden static halt at the sound of an angry sire. He feels Wilbur freeze and let go. Phil's arm wraps around Techno's shoulder, pulling him close to the sire's chest into an almost embrace.
"It was going to run away," Wilbur whines. Techno wishes he had the presence of mind to laugh at how pitiful Wilbur sounds. He's distracted by Phil smoothing his hand down his hair, the touch making him shudder.
"Only because you keep messing with it. Fuck, it's like you forgot how to treat a human." Phil's touch makes Techno want to shrug him off, but the soft crooning tone leaves his muscles feeling like liquid. "And do not damage its hair, that's part of what makes it so precious," Phil complains. Turns out he wasn't upset about the rough treatment at all, only that it ran the risk of causing a bald spot. How reassuring. Phil's hand finds its place against the base of Techno's neck, cold fingers curling around and digging slightly into the flesh. "Wilbur is right though, no need to make this difficult."
Techno is pushed down into one of the chairs, and Tommy takes his wrist with a hum to hold it flat against the table. Phil bends closer so he doesn't need to project his voice at all when he speaks, low and dangerous.
"I do not want to pin you down and do this by force, mate. I really don't. But this is one thing we won't be able to compromise on." His thumb traces the top of Techno's spine, the gesture incomprehensibly tender in contrast to what's going on. Almost imperceptibly, Techno does nod. Though Phil does not let him go.
He only straightens a little, hand a more yielding fixture on Techno's back.
"Go ahead," he says to one of the two vampires there to draw Techno's blood. She hurries to hike Techno's sleeve up over his elbow and fix the tourniquet in place.
"How much do you want us to extract?" she asks softly, eyes downcast as she avoids looking fully into Phil's face. Techno sees they have brought tubes and bags of various sizes. Even one of those foldable ones that can hold up to a gallon of blood. While not the norm, there are a few covens who despise having to deal with living humans at all. They simply drain their feeders completely after purchase, and store the blood for consumption at a later time.
"Just enough for the tests we discussed should suffice," Phil says, voice back to its relaxed cadence.
"Are you sure?" the other vampire scientist asks, his expression one of disbelief. "If it's really a Blade line, you could tap a bit more for commercial use. Other covens would pay-" Then the sentence cuts off as his mouth opens into a perfect circle, left slightly agape.
Techno didn't see Phil move at all. He only knows something happened because the soft pressure of Phil's hand vanished for a brief moment. It settles back in place, rubbing a small reassuring circle to distract Techno from the needle sliding into his skin. But Techno is more distracted by the man's head tilting back, chin tipping up as if he's suddenly enthralled by the patterns painted along the ceiling.
Except the motion doesn't stop, head lolling back further and further, a dark line traced along his neck from ear to ear seeping black fluid. When gravity pulls his skull back even more, the cut opens up as flesh tears away, tissue stretching obscenely. The wound gapes wide before splitting fully, leaving his decapitated head to bounce along the dining room floor. The man's body crumples almost as if it's an afterthought, shriveling in on itself.
Techno has never seen a vampire die before.
"Next time, don't bring somebody who will question me," Phil says coldly. He wipes a residue of black blood off on his pants. The woman hiccups through a near-sob and nods, finishing her work.
She pulls the needle out, the vial a shimmering red color. Techno watches a bead of blood well to the surface of his skin as she reaches for a bandaid to cover the tiny mark left behind. Tommy lets go of Techno's wrist to slam his hand on the table instead, hard enough to make Techno flinch since he wasn't expecting it.
"Fuck!" Tommy says loudly. He slams his hand down two more times to punctuate each curse. "Fuck! Fuck, that smells good."
"Exquisite, isn't it?" Phil agrees with a chuckle. But neither of them stops the woman from applying the bandage, and Techno pulls his sleeve down as soon as he's able. "Honestly, you'd almost think we could skip the authenticity test."
"Didn't you say the paperwork was undisputed anyway?" Wilbur asks, slinking closer. Techno noticed the vampire was off sulking in the corner a bit after being scolded by his sire. But with Phil back in good spirits, Wilbur feels safe to approach again. He holds his arms stiffly at his side and his head bowed, at least until Phil takes his wrist.
Phil pulls Wilbur closer and places a hand on the back of his neck so their foreheads can touch for a moment. The gesture is simple yet intimate, a non-verbal communication between vampires conveying apology and forgiveness.
Kind of rich that Phil is the one getting an apology when Techno is the one who almost lost a chunk of his hair, but whatever.
The woman takes the blood vial and walks to the other side of the table, tiptoeing around the corpse of her former colleague so she can put Techno's blood in a small machine she brought with her. Tommy lies down on the table fully, perching his steepled palms beneath his chin and with his legs kicking up in the air as he's resting on his stomach, eagerly awaiting whatever results the device will spit out. Phil also moves away from Techno to pay attention to that, so Techno pushes the chair back and gets up.
He was neither told to get up or stay seated. He just doesn't like how everybody keeps hovering near him.
So he shuffles over to the wall, near a low dresser with several decorative knick-knacks. Wilbur's eyes settle on him sharply, but Techno doubts he's going to be accused of trying to run away a second time. He glares back.
"It's a genuine Blade line," the woman says, reading from the machine that is analyzing Techno's blood.
"Big surprise," Tommy scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"Manufactured roughly eighteen years and seven months ago. No anomalous vectors." She frowns for a moment at the small lines. "And no outside substances. He's clean."
"Thank fuck," Phil says.
"You're too paranoid," Wilbur replies, crossing his arms.
"Tell that to the Corvarian coven. They were almost wiped out because of a gifted feeder that had been tampered with." Phil rubs the edge of his jaw in thought. "I should have known these guys aren't smart enough for something like that. They really gave us an unbitten Blade line human with no strings attached."
While Techno is pretending to be more interested in the random blue-and-white vase that has been placed on the dresser, the comment stands out to him. Phil kept talking before about not forcing the humans he owns into anything they don't want, then made it obvious in no unclear terms that having his blood drawn was going to happen with or without Techno's cooperation. Is it because the safety of the coven could have been at risk? They needed to know Techno's old coven didn't make him into a Trojan horse by contaminating his blood before sending him over.
"Flavor values are coming through too," the woman says, making Tommy lean forward with curiosity. Techno frowns.
Vampires are so incredibly shallow sometimes. They're immortal and have a practically unlimited amount of time on their hands that they could use to make the world progress through technology. Instead, they use it to make a device that can perfectly measure the specific flavor notes of blood and rank it against another human of the same genetic making. Because why not get competitive about the quality of your sentient food, right?
"It's in the upper bracket," the woman reads aloud. "Top five, easily. And data on the Blade line is pretty extensive with how rare they are, so..."
"So?" Tommy repeats, too thick to grasp the technical terms maybe.
"So even when compared to other humans from the Blade line, this blood is exemplary," Phil says with a smirk. And with the tone of somebody who was told they would get an unexpected upgrade to a first-class flight rather than being stuck in economy.
"That makes sense, it's also the most volatile out of the lot," Wilbur says.
Techno picks up the vase he's standing next to and chucks it at Wilbur's face.
The fine China shatters against the wall since a vampire's reflexes wouldn't be caught dead getting hit by a projectile that big, no matter how unexpectedly Techno manages to throw it. Despite this, Wilbur's proud laughter at managing to tick him off again prompts Techno to pick up the next item on the dresser as well, a crystal ashtray. He throws it at Wilbur too, though the vampire catches it easily with one hand.
"Don't," Phil says, moving over to Techno to stop him from flinging anything else. Mainly the small horse statue he's holding. "Kristin bought that in Venice, she'd be heartbroken."
Wilbur is bent over in fits of hysterics at this point, which only makes Techno want to hurt him more. But he decides to relent and puts the horse down, holding up his hands to show Phil he's not planning another assault. Yet.
Or he wasn't planning on it yet until Wilbur has to open his big mouth again. "It's kind of cute when it's throwing a tantrum, right?"
Phil catches Techno's wrist and quickly pries the horse statue from his grip for good this time, waving Tommy over. "Tommy, please take it back to its room before I have to explain any more broken sentimental heirlooms to your mother."
"Yeah, yeah." Tommy rolls off the table, landing on all fours like some sort of animal. Freak behavior, for sure. He walks over and grabs Techno's wrist. If nothing else, Techno is getting used to that part of being their feeder very quickly. Wilbur follows them out, the gloating smile on his face only makes Techno want to punch him more.
Back in his room, both vampires hover in the doorway.
"Do you need anything else?" Tommy asks as Wilbur comes to pick up his unfinished meal. They've asked this so many times before.
Techno walks to the window and looks out. He can't see much of anything.
"Look, it seems kind of dull in here, so if you do want something like a deck of cards or a board game or whatever?" Tommy presses. "You won't even have to play alone, I can come play with you if you want."
Techno looks at him over his shoulder, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. "No thanks. You seem like the sort of person who cheats at Monopoly."
Wilbur laughs again, though the sound is a little less grating when Techno isn't the one who is being made fun of.
"Man, I'm just trying to be nice here," Tommy pouts. "I'd hate to be stuck in a room with nothing but boring books to read." Something seems to occur to him then and he snaps his fingers. "Do you even know how to read?"
"I know how to read," Techno says testily.
Common feeder line humans wouldn't. Their education remains extremely limited, only teaching them the essentials they'll need to serve the coven they're sold to. Speech and some basics on how to function. A feeder doesn't need to know history, or science, or art. They only need healthy blood and a readily available throat.
Techno has the fortune of being made within a designer line, the sort of human who has a slightly higher chance of being kept as a pet. Covens will flaunt their rarest designer feeders, take them places, and want them near them as often as possible to remind themselves of how special and rich they are for owning something so novel. And thus, those humans are expected to know how to read and write, and recite certain things from memory as if it's a cool party trick. Techno knows about a lot of concepts that no longer exist within this world, things that hail from the old times when free humans still were a thing.
He probably actually knows more than expected since his old coven kept a lot of nonfiction books around and Techno could read. He always wondered why vampires would keep those relics from before their rise. Maybe having humans know about how different things were before, and having them be helpless to do anything about the new status quo, is its own form of sadistic entertainment.
Tommy only reacts with a relieved sigh. "Oh good, then you'll have something to keep yourself from turning mad in here."
"I do want something else," Techno says. He turns away from the window. "I want that house tour. And to be allowed to walk around freely."
Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but Wilbur beats him to it.
"You can leave the room whenever we're feeding on you."
"That's not what I said," Techno points out.
"In that case, I'm afraid we'll have to supervise you." Wilbur tilts his head, a challenge. "You see, only our feeders are allowed to wander wherever we want. And if you're not a feeder…"
Techno grits his teeth, inhaling through his nose. These guys are really persistent.
"Fine," he says, waiting until he sees Wilbur's face light up before he finishes his statement. "Supervision it is then."
For somebody who was laughing so much before, Wilbur manages a very sour expression. Techno turns to look out the window again with a smile, hearing the door close and the lock click behind him.