2025-11-13 21:16:27The warm glow of the dining room surrounded them as the family gathered around the table. Plates were set with care: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables, and a small pitcher of juice.
For Diego, it was more than a meal, it was a ceremony of normalcy he had never known, centuries of rigid structure and cruelty forgotten for a moment. Claire dug in eagerly, her little hands moving quickly between bites. Mara smiled, watching her daughter, then looked at Diego. “So, Claire, how was school today?” “School was cool,” Claire replied, a bright smile lighting her small face. “But… my teacher, Mrs. Mira, gave me lots of homework.” She glanced at Diego with expectant eyes. “Uncle Liam, can you help me with my homework later?” Diego hesitated, caught between uncertainty and instinct. The idea of interacting with a human child, of guiding her, was foreign. Yet… there was a warmth in her voice, an openness he hadn’t heard in centuries. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, his voice hoarse, unfamiliar even to himself, but firm. Claire’s face lit up. She dug into her meal with renewed energy, humming happily as she took small bites between peeks at Diego. Thomas, seated at the head of the table, regarded Diego carefully. “Looking at you… you must be around seventeen years old. At your age, school should be your priority.” Diego swallowed, the words stirring something in his mind. Seventeen… that’s human age. For vampires like us, our age is… much longer. Right now, I am one hundred thousand years old, the youngest in my family, yet here, I am seen as a seventeen-year-old teenage boy. He let the thought settle silently, unspoken, cataloging the strange, brief life he was being given. I can understand, you don’t remember much… only your name. But if you're among kids your age, maybe… maybe your memory will come back. Mara nodded toward Thomas, her voice soft but decisive. “Yes, Dean… Thomas is right. Don’t you want to go to school?” Diego thought for a moment, the concept foreign, alien even. School. He had never gone to school in the way humans did. He had been home-schooled within the vast, lonely halls of the Monaghan estate, trained in etiquette, history, politics, and… restraint. Socializing with peers had been a lesson in observation, not participation. Yet now, the idea sparked a small thrill within him. To be among others like himself, even if only in body, pretending age, pretending normalcy, could awaken something lost, something buried beneath centuries of walls. “Yes,” he said finally, voice quiet but certain. Thomas and Mara exchanged a glance, relief and hope in their eyes. “Then we’ll figure it out,” Mara said. “Step by step.” Claire clapped her hands softly. “Yes! Uncle Liam will help me with homework and maybe… we can play after?” Diego allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. Play… I haven’t done that in centuries. The table filled with laughter after that, small stories about Claire’s school, Thomas’s grumbles about work, and Mara’s light teasing about him always forgetting to bring the groceries home. Even Diego found himself listening, absorbing the rhythm of their voices. It felt strange,foreign, but comforting. When dinner ended, Claire leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Mommy, Uncle Liam eats like he’s shy,” she whispered, thinking Diego couldn’t hear. “You think he doesn’t like chicken?” Mara stifled a laugh, glancing at him. Diego caught her eyes and looked away quickly, unsure how to respond. Thomas smiled, standing to gather the dishes. “He’s probably just getting used to your mom’s cooking,” he said lightly. “It’s powerful stuff.” Mara gave him a playful glare as she swatted his arm with a napkin, and laughter filled the room once again. For Diego, the moment lingered longer than it should have. He didn’t fully understand why, perhaps it was the warmth, or the feeling of belonging. But something inside him shifted. For the first time, he wasn’t a weapon or a prisoner or a legacy. He was just someone, sitting at a table, sharing a meal. Outside, however, the night thickened. The wind pressed against the windows like a whisper, carrying with it a faint trace of danger. Far away, in the unseen corners of the city, a presence moved, searching, closing in. And though Diego didn’t know it yet, the taste of family would soon be tested by the taste for blood.
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QUIET THINGS THAT DON'T BREAK
The room was too clean.Diego sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting flat on his thighs, spine straight the way Dominic had taught him. Even alone, his body held the posture. Control first. Always.The walls were pale stone, unmarred by decoration. No windows, only a recessed panel that adjusted light according to schedules he hadn’t chosen. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and metal, a neutral scent meant to calm, to erase.It didn’t.Something inside him kept reaching—then stopping short, like fingers brushing glass.He closed his eyes.Breathing in. Counting. Breathing out.It worked. Mostly.But memory didn’t listen to discipline.The Evans’ kitchen came back to him without warning, the clatter of a spoon dropped into a sink, the hum of an old refrigerator that complained more than it cooled. The way the floor creaked near the back door. The smell of burnt toast on mornings when no one was really paying attention.Claire’s laugh. Too loud. Too sudden. The way it burst o
UNLEASHED, NOT UNBOUND
Lewis stood at the edge of the chamber.The Underworld did not resemble a city so much as a body—layered, pulsing, alive in ways the surface could never understand. Sound traveled differently here. So did fear.The feral vampires waited.They filled every level of the space, gathered on iron walkways and concrete ledges, crouched in shadows and open corridors alike. Hundreds of them. Some old enough to remember the Monaghan name before it meant domination. Others so recently turned that their hunger still outpaced their thoughts.None of them moved.Lewis had broken that instinct out of them months ago.“Dominic will respond,” the Unknown Man said. “He always does.”Lewis didn’t look at him. His attention remained fixed on the central display—a map not of streets, but of influence. Territory. Lines of obedience glowing faintly across the city.“Of course he will,” Lewis said. “That’s the point.”He stepped forward, boots echoing once. The ferals reacted instantly—backs straightening,
DEAD ZONES
The call came in just before sunrise.Detective Mira Alvarez was already awake, sitting at the small kitchen table in her apartment, coffee untouched, files spread out like a losing hand. She’d stopped pretending sleep was an option weeks ago. Not since the bodies started turning up wrong.Her phone buzzed.She didn’t look at the screen before answering.“Alvarez.”“We’ve got another one,” dispatch said. “Warehouse district. Dockside. You’re closest.”Mira closed her eyes for half a second.“On my way.”The warehouse smelled like iron and salt and something sour that didn’t belong near water.Police lights painted the corrugated metal walls red and blue, but the colors didn’t warm the place. They never did anymore. Too many scenes like this. Too many nights where the city felt hollowed out.Detective James Rowan ducked under the tape as Mira approached.“You’re late,” he said.“You’re early,” she replied.He handed her gloves. “You’re not going to like this one.”She put them on anyw
BLIND ANGLES
The city kept moving.People crossed streets. Trains ran on time. Screens flashed headlines that meant nothing to the ones who mattered. Routine wrapped itself around the city like armor, convincing everyone that structure meant safety.Dominic Monaghan returned to his study without a word to anyone. The door sealed behind him with a muted click, shutting out the rest of the mansion.Raphael’s voice still lingered in his mind—not loud, not threatening.Worse.Certain.Dominic set his phone down slowly as systems recalibrated around him. Security feeds shifted. Patrol routes updated. Surveillance priority lists reordered themselves in quiet obedience. Names surfaced on internal displays—old ones. Forgotten ones.Blood that believed it was owed something.“Find him,” Dominic said quietly into the room. “I don’t care where he’s been hiding.”The system acknowledged at once.Raphael had always been dangerous—not because he was reckless, but because he understood restraint. Because he kn
GATHERING PRESSURE
The city kept moving.People crossed streets. Trains ran on time. Screens flashed headlines that meant nothing to the ones who mattered.Dominic Monaghan returned to his study without a word to anyone.The door sealed behind him with a muted click.Raphael’s voice still lingered in his mind—not loud, not threatening. Worse.Certain.Dominic set his phone down slowly, eyes narrowing as systems recalibrated around him. Security feeds shifted. Patrol routes updated. Names surfaced on internal lists—old ones. Forgotten ones.Blood that believed it was owed something.“Find him,” Dominic said quietly into the room. “I don’t care where he’s been hiding.”The system acknowledged.Raphael had always been dangerous—not because he was reckless, but because he understood restraint. Because he knew when not to move.And now he had.Dominic’s jaw tightened.Too many pressure points were activating at once.That never happened by accident.Leo stood alone in the main hall long after Dominic disapp
PRESSURE POINTS
Morning crept into the city like a cautious intruder.Not sunlight—movement.Traffic resumed in careful waves. Office lights flickered on floor by floor. People stepped back into routines they trusted would protect them. The illusion of normalcy slid into place with practiced ease.From the upper level of the Monaghan mansion, Dominic Monaghan watched it all unfold.The glass walls of his private observation gallery reflected the city back at itself—orderly, structured, obedient. From here, the streets looked like arteries feeding a body he had built and maintained for decades.Alive because he allowed it to be.“Status,” Dominic said without turning.Behind him, screens adjusted instantly. Data flowed—security reports, financial movements, internal communications. Nothing alarming. Nothing obvious.That, more than anything, irritated him.“All systems operational,” a voice replied through the wall interface. “No breaches. No external threats detected.”Dominic clasped his hands beh
