Mordecai the Vampire

A light rain turned mist filled the air around Mordecai's shanty little apartment. The young vampire of 87 years sat poking her little fireplace with her bare fingers, trying to get the small embers to light aflame. The woman had been alone for a few decades now, but she supposed she was okay with it; most of her kind end up alone.

Finally giving up on trying to feel a little warmer, she sighed and rose to her feet. I suppose it's that time again, she thought. She walked across the dusty carpet and towards the rack hanging only partially on the wall, whipping her dark-colored coat over her dark-colored shirt and pulling the hood over her head.

The street beyond glistened from the yellow streetlamps standing tall above. Mordecai looked twice in both directions; it was about eight at night by now, she guessed. Not many people walked the streets of this poor town, for only bandits and drunks were brave enough to wander these roads at night. She crept forward and began her search for a drink.

The woman had only been out on the hunt for a short while until she reached the crossroads that would change her forever. The road ahead looked promising as a man stumbled out of a dimly-lit bar and collapsed onto the ground ahead, but what lie down the alley to her left was all the more intriguing to her: a child - no more than five or six years old - stood perfectly lit under a streetlamp that seemed to almost spotlight him. A few drops of blood leaked down the boy's chin. Some of it had dried onto his tattered white shirt that was also soaked in rain. What stood out to her the most is that his eyes glinted red in the light; he was clearly a vampire, too. She approached quietly, feeling pity for the child. It's hard to be a vampire, especially one cursed with such a young, weak body.

"How long ago did you turn?" Mordecai asked the child. He looked up at the tall, slim woman and immediately took on the face of a frightened animal. "It's alright," she said. "I became one fifty-five years ago at age thirty-two. When did you turn? Or were you born this way?"

The boy looked at her silently for a moment. "Fuh... Five."

"Just five years ago?" she asked as she approached. He backed away a few steps, but seemed to eventually realize that the woman meant no harm. He nodded slowly. "My, you are only a fledgling!" Mordecai looked down into his reddish eyes. "Your eyes haven't even yet begun to glow. What is your name, night-child?"

"Bobby."

"Oh, how quaint of a name for one of us. You know, we often like to choose our own names after we turn."

"I'm Bobby," the child repeated.

"I'm Mordecai," she said, smiling. Do you have a lair to stay with others?" He shook his head 'no'. She nodded in understanding. "It's pretty rare that that happens, isn't it? But I'm alone, too, and I have decent shelter just a few minutes' walk from here. Would you care to join me, Bobby?"

The child's eyes lit up. "You're adopting me?"

"I... I suppose. Someone has to protect you. It's dangerous out here for us when we're so inexperienced."

It was then that Mordecai took in the fledgling she didn't know was actually a human child with uncommon features. It only took a single day for her to realize her mistake, however: Bobby tried to walk outside into the midday sun after insisting on "playing". Had he never felt the hot sting of the sun before? She couldn't stop him from learning, she'd guessed. But when his white skin met the searing, golden light, nothing had happened to him. Mordecai, after politely asking him to bare his fangs, saw that he had none. When asked if he drank blood, he murmured only the word 'icky'.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Oh, you're only five years old..."

"My birthday is Janra-rary," he said, smiling.

"What... happened to you last night?"

He stood quietly for several seconds as he patiently tried to recall the events that led up to Mordecai discovering him. "Mrs. Niklas yelled at me and I ran 'way and fell and ran 'way some more."

"Who is Mrs. Niklas?"

"She's at the orphanage."

Mordecai stared at the child in disbelief. Her weak spot for children had gotten her into trouble once again.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman sat back on her dusty, old chair.

"Mordeekee?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you my new mommy?" Bobby asked.

"Honey, I... I'm different from you, you see? I can't be with you in the sun. I drink the blood of others. I am a vampire, and you are a human. You're too young to be turned... It would just be cruel to remain in the body of a five-year-old for practically all of eternity..."

Bobby stared at her, probably only understanding half of the words she said. "You aren't scary," he said.

"Oh, that's why I'm so good at what I do," she said, smiling. She rose to her feet. "We need to get you back home. Where do you live?"

"Home?"

"The orphanage, Bobby. Where did you come from?"

Immediately, Bobby took on the same expression as last night: terrified, but this time, he began sobbing. "No! I c-can't! Mrs. Niklas-"

"My child," Mordecai said, "I'll make sure she never hurts you again. I'll travel there later tonight, and then I'll help you find your forever home tomorrow."

The vampire had tucked Bobby in near the fire that night. She sang to him the song that her late wife had taught her many years ago,

Let us be silent and not hunt to spite,

try not to give to your prey any fright.

Lure them quietly away out of sight,

and be sure to tell them that everything is alright.

Daze them gently as you take your bite,

so that they will arise later that night.

Your prey is so precious and deserves the right,

to live out a life alive in the light.

The little poem combined with a warm fire and a heavy blanket always worked to help children fall asleep quickly, and Bobby was no different. She snuck out silently and made her way to the orphanage, but when she got there, she was surprised by the state that the home was in. It looked just like an asylum from an old horror book, and twice as wretched and worn-down, as if it was just on the verge of collapsing. Surely this place was abandoned? Surely this was the wrong address?

But it wasn't, and she should have known by the way poor Bobby had been dressed. Mordecai walked down the weed-laden, stone path and approached closer to the door. Inside she heard the sound of crying children. The yells of an older woman bellowed out at them, demanding bedtime or punishment. It was then that she realized that the way this town treated children sickened her.

She knocked on the door and heard the woman immediately ask the orphans to hush themselves, but they still wept, just quieter. Mordecai heard heavy footsteps against creaking wood approach the door, and moments later, it opened just a crack to reveal the face of what looked like a sketch of a witch from a children's novel, just barely alit by dim, cheap lighting.

The strong smell of cigarettes hit the vampire's sensitive nose like a brick as it wafted from the woman's mouth. With a voice that creaked just as badly as the floors, she spoke, "You have the privilege of speaking to Mrs. Niklas, housemother of William's Orphanage. What do you want?"

"My name is Mordecai. I am here to adopt."

"My goodness, woman, it's past nine. They're asleep! And I need to sleep as well. Move along." She tried to close the door, but Mordecai stopped it with a boot to the frame.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked sternly.

It took the old witch a moment, but she gave in and put on a sarcastic smile. She leaned her head back over the door and sweetly asked, "Children, get ready. Someone wants to adopt one of you."

The kids had done as they were told, each lining up, some of their faces stained with tears. Their clothes were ripped and stained, and some of them were practically half-naked. She approached them and looked at them all closely before turning back to the old witch. "How has this place not been reported?"

"Hmph," she growled. "If you've lived here for any second, you'd realize that this dump of a mining town doesn't give a fig for children. I was stuck with this job after my selfish husband William died and left me with nothing but measly funds from sappy tourists. Oh, yes, they come along and we all act like we're sad and desperate and promise we'll use their money for good, but-"

"They're clearly not acting."

"Whatever. Pick a kid or get out."

The vampire had had enough. She took a deep, calming breath. "May I speak to you in private?"

"What for?" she growled.

"I want to discuss negotiations. I wish to take them all." Immediately, all the kids' eyes had lit up. Even Mrs. Niklas's whole personality changed from impatient to greedy.

"Oh, yes, yes, please! Right this way."

It was almost as if Mrs. Niklas had forgotten the entire banter she just had with her, wobbling quickly away as she led Mordecai down the moldy hall. Its walls were lined with photos of miserable kids, some of which weren't present at the lineup.

"The biggest one, Tom, is gonna run ya at least sixty. Buy one Tom and two other boys and I'll give ya two girls for free," she cackled.

Mrs. Niklas swung open the door to a measly room the vampire could only describe as the orphanage's office. Mordecai noticed at least a few gem-dotted knickknacks and baubles that had to have been incredibly expensive, and she began to seethe with fury when she realized that the witch had earned more money for this operation than she immediately let on. All of it had gone to her own selfishness.

As soon as she shut the door, Mordecai let out her anger.

"Leave this town and never come back," she hissed.

Mrs. Niklas's eyes brightened with fear. "Oh yeah? Who'll take care of the rats?!"

"I will," she said. And then, bearing her fangs and letting her eyes glow red, she growled, "But if I ever see you here again, I'll get you for it!"

The old crone fell backwards onto her desk. She ungracefully swiped up as many bits of baubles and gold as she could and left the building quick enough to make a cheetah shy. With nobody in the town who cared enough to raise these kids along with Bobby, Mordecai knew what she needed to do. The lonely vampire had found her calling that was sweeter than any blood she had ever tasted.

What followed were the happiest years in the history of William's Mordecai's Orphanage. It stung to know that somewhere, Mrs. Niklas had enough valuables to get another home someplace, but Mordecai wasn't one to hold grudges. Maybe one day, however, Bobby would seek out revenge, though she would try her best to raise him to be a better vampire than that once he became of age.

What was left of the valuables was sold to make the orphanage the heart of the town, and its heartbeat radiated outwards to eventually create a much better home for everyone who lived there. The vampire lived for many years longer, raising Bobby and his peers to be strong, independent kids who were determined to keep their new, beloved housemother's secret: she was the greatest vampire in the world.