Sacrum - 1. Chapter 1: New Beginnings

“It is not more surprising to be born twice than once.”
— Voltaire

1. NEW BEGINNINGS

“You’re frustrated,” Vinicius stated plainly, his mouth holding a gentle smile for me.

I slumped further back in the worn armchair, the weight of my future pressing down on me.

"I am," I admitted, my voice heavy. Maybe honesty was the best policy after all, and something would magically change if I could just convey to my mentor how burdened I was with my future destiny, and how defeated I felt about my lack of progress in harnessing my gift.

“And you feel justified in your frustrations?” He asked, as if we were having a pleasant conversation about the weather, and not discussing matters of national importance.

"That's a bit of an understatement," I scoffed, my voice holding more bitterness than I'd realized. But wasn't I justified? After all, I never chose this type of life for myself. I never wanted to be a Special. All I wanted was to be a normal vampire teenager.

A flicker of warmth sparked in Vinicius' eyes, a tender display of emotion that squeezed at my heart.

“Tell me then," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "Tell me of your frustrations, my son, and I will listen with an open heart, for you have every right to express your thoughts about this strange position you’ve been placed in since the day that you were created."

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and a pang of guilt stabbed at me. He wasn't my enemy, even though he molded me into this frustrating existence.

"It's not your fault," I mumbled, embarrassed about my outburst. The words catching in my throat. "I know that. You're just… following the path laid out for me."

But even though I acknowledged the truth, a rebellious ember flickered deep within me, nagging at my core. I had a good life, yet I yearned for a life I never knew. He was my creator, my mentor, the only guidance I had in this whirlwind of a life. But sometimes, it all felt like a gilded cage...

My mind drifted back to that gentler time, when Vinicius' presence shielded me from the harsh realities of my being. Now, adrift in a sea of uncertainties, I was utterly alone navigating the labyrinth of my existence.

I made my way toward the lunch area through the halls of Baritone High School, which echoed with the shuffle of retreating feet as the morning classes came to an end. Unlike the human students who filled their lunch trays with lukewarm pizza, here, "lunch" was a precisely measured out blood cocktail, ethically sourced from either animals, or human volunteers.

I lingered behind, scanning the faces in the cafeteria. Making friends had always been a challenge, but now, after Vinicius and in a new school...

I was transferred here after Vinicius committed suicide. A pronouncement that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I had never even suspected him of being unhappy. But that was the official statement I was given. Vinicius, the man who'd dedicated himself to the vampire world, to my development, simply walked into the sunlight one day. It felt like a poorly scripted play. He knew my fragile state, the pivotal shift from boy to man. Abandoning me, especially now, felt like a betrayal.

I had to be transferred to Baritone High because it was the only high school in North America able to accommodate me as a Special and provide me with a new mentor. Special. I hated the word, a constant reminder of my artificial existence.

At Baritone, I'd get a new mentor. Every Special was assigned a mentor at the moment of creation. A mentor was one of the original vampires who took part in developing the Special program. Vinicius had been everything a mentor should be: wise, patient, kind.

The job of a mentor was to teach each Special about their own particular power, and how they were to wield it in the future. Our purpose was shrouded in secrecy. We, the Specials, were a tiny, elite task force sculpted to safeguard the free world. Our mission – to combat rogue vampires harboring a sinister agenda – one that threatened the fragile peace between our kind and humanity.

The key to our success lay in mastering our powers, under the watchful guidance of a mentor. Vinicius, a revered figure in the program's inception, was mine. He'd played a pivotal role not only in shaping Specials like me, but also in the creation of synthetic blood.

As it stood now, it was completely illegal to kill a human in order to drink their blood. Anyone who would even dare would be put on trial and punished if they were found guilty. We were able to purchase blood from our own stores — blood which was voluntarily donated by willing humans in exchange for a small payment.

There was also blood created in the laboratory — a Vinicius invention — which, although nowhere near as tasty as human blood, technically did the job of keeping us satiated.

Vampire and human relationships were also permitted, with strict regulations to ensure human safety. If both parties agreed, the vampire could drink blood from their partner, as long as they didn’t kill or turn them. Turning a partner required government approval, a testament to the delicate balance between the vampire and human world.

Animal blood, while legal, was considered a last resort.

Vinicius, a visionary who championed peaceful coexistence and spent his many lifetimes making various scientific breakthroughs, had achieved another seemingly impossible feat: a method for vampires to conceive and birth vampire children – the next generation of their kind.

The uneasy peace between humans and vampires was a fragile thing. Fearing a resurgence of hostilities, the government embarked on the creation of Specials – five beings of immense, unique power, crafted in sterile labs with no mother or father to speak of. We had a singular purpose: to safeguard humanity if the vampire-human balance ever tipped.

Mentors served as our guides and wardens. Their mission was to keep us focused, and to ensure our loyalty never wavered. After all, the potential for disaster if all five Specials rebelled was too horrifying to contemplate.

Just like there were only five of us, similarly there were only five mentors. Only those that had a hand in creating the program and who understood what it stood for and how much was a stake.

A voice woke me up from my musings. "Hello, Special," it greeted. I looked up to see a boy, his face splitting into a wide grin that revealed two dimples. “I’m Angelino, but you can call me Angelo,” he said, sticking out his hand to shake mine.

I hesitated for just a moment, the word Special taking me off guard. “I’m Daniele, but you can call me Dani,” I finally replied, taking his hand in mine.

“This is Laura,” Angelo said, pointing to a red-headed girl behind him who offered a friendly wave. I returned it, smiling back, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. “And that’s Kyle,” he continued, pointing to a stoic-faced kid next to Laura who didn’t make any moves to greet me.

“Nice to meet you guys,” I managed.

"We saw you were alone," Angelo noted kindly. "Want to hang out with us?" The question was a lifeline.

"I… I'd like that," I stammered with a grateful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Relief washed over me as they settled around and started to chat.

Angelo leaned in, a touch of awe in his voice. “It must be strange to be at a new school, so far from your home. A bit of a culture shock coming from the Valentini Academy, no?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You know where I’m from?" Angelo and Laura both chuckled.

"Seriously? Of course we know where you’re from. You’re a Special! You're like the Justin Bieber of vampires – minus the screaming fans, hopefully," she said.

I grimaced playfully. I came from a very small private school, and Vinicius failed to inform me that us Specials were apparently kind of a big deal to the rest of the vampire world.

“Well, you guys are the first people to even talk to me here. I doubt Justin Bieber would have that issue,” I replied joking.

Angelo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Honestly, I think everyone's just… intimidated. You're a Special, a bit of an enigma. Who knows what kind of abilities you might have? Super speed? Mind control?" His eyes widened playfully. "Maybe even fire-breathing?"

I felt a flicker of unease cross my face, and tried to quickly mask it with a wry smile.

"Trust me, setting off fire alarms isn't on my list of talents," I replied.

Angelo held up his hands in surrender, showing his dimples again. "Whoa, sorry there, didn't mean to pry. We're just excited to have you here."

A knot of apprehension tightened in my stomach. "Speaking of exciting things," I said, "I'm supposed to meet my mentor today. Do you guys know a Sebastiano Maratoni?"

Angelo and Laura exchanged a look that spelled trouble. Laura's smile faltered, and Angelo rubbed a hand nervously through his hair.

"Uh, yeah," Angelo finally said. "All I'm gonna say is... good luck with that one."

My stomach lurched. "What is it?"

"He teaches Vampire History," Laura offered cautiously. "And, let's just say, he’s not known for his kindness."

"Last year, he nearly flunked Angelo for, well, existing," she continued. "It doesn't take much to get on his bad side. There aren't many students he tolerates, let alone likes."

I forced a smile. Great. Just great. The bell's shrill cry echoed through the halls. I mumbled goodbyes to my new friends, promising to meet with them after class was over.

I hesitantly made my way to my mentor’s office. Every passing day amplified the hollowness of Vinicius' absence. Regret gnawed at me for ever taking him for granted. Steeling myself, I reached for the door knob.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a force that sent me stumbling back, almost knocking me to the ground. I collided with a solid figure. Black hair, like a raven's wing, framed lively brown eyes that sparkled with mischief and amusement. A shock ran through me as his hand shot out, cool and firm, gripping my arm to steady me.

"Easy there," the boy said, his voice a low rumble. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“You’re new,” he stated.

“I am,” I confirmed.

“I’m Vincent,” he said, he was still holding my arm, and for some reason his tight grip felt comforting.

“I’m Dani,” I replied.

The door creaked open again, this time revealing a gaunt man with a receding hairline and eyes magnified by thick black spectacles.

“What’s going on out here?” He rasped. His gaze flicked between me and the dark-haired boy.

"Ah, Vincenzo, I see you've encountered my new… charge. And look at that, clumsy already," he added with a sneer, as he deciphered the scene playing out in front of him. Angelo and Laura were right, I already loathed this man. Not only that, but it was also clear that he loathed me too.

Vincent, however, met his gaze unflinchingly. "My fault, Signor Maratoni."

He then turned back to me, adding, “Good luck,” with a playful wink, before he vanished down the hallway.

"Well, don't just stand there like a petrified gargoyle," Maratoni barked at me. "Get inside."

His office was extremely dim, but meticulously organized. Walls lined with leather-bound tomes and shelves overflowing with glass jars containing unsettling specimens suspended in murky liquid. I averted my gaze.

Maratoni sat at his desk, and I made my way to the chair across from him, bracing myself for whatever 'guidance' he was about to offer.

Maratoni's gaze raked across my face, a clinical dissection of my features. "Vinicius' creation through and through," he scoffed.

“How so?” I asked.

"You look like a little blonde angel. Only Vinicius would be sentimental enough to give a vampire your features.”

A spark of anger ignited in my chest. "As far as I know, there are no typical features for vampires. We come in all shapes and sizes, sir." His mouth curled into an odious smile.

“Is that so?” He replied. “You think you know it all, don’t you?”

“No sir,” I replied, trying to remember my manners. But it was a difficult task around this man.

Maratoni leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "But let me disabuse you of that notion, boy. Vinicius killed himself without a care for what would happen to you, so I suggest you fix your know-it-all attitude, because I’m the only person you’ve got left in this world,” he stated. I bit my tongue.

Forcing a respectful nod I replied, "Yes, sir."

Maratoni leaned back in his chair. "So, how are you faring with this... 'gift' of yours?" His voice dripped with skepticism.

“I haven’t fully mastered it yet,” I admitted, embarrassed. He scoffed.

“Of course not, Vinicius would never push his precious little prodigy, would he. You’re way past behind all the other Specials at this point. And frankly, I’m not even sure if it’s safe to have you in this school, with the number of students here and you not being able to control your power,” he said, as his gaze turned glacial.

My stomach dropped. I'd just found a glimmer of connection with Angelo and Laura, a sense of belonging I craved. The thought of another transfer was unbearable.

“But," he drawled, "since the powers that be have no issue with it, I guess I’ll go along with the plan… for now,” he added.

His lips curled in distaste yet again. “I want a 10-page essay next time I see you. I want your gift explained in detail. I want to know everything that you know about it. I want to know everything Vinicius told you about it. And I want to know every instance that you’ve used it in. Got it?”

I could only manage a defeated nod. The joy of finding friends had been extinguished, replaced by a suffocating dread.

“And when," I managed to croak, "when will I be seeing you again, sir?”

He smirked. “That would be tomorrow,” he replied with sadistic satisfaction.

“Goodbye now,” he waved me off and went back to the stack of papers on his desk.

I left the office feeling defeated. Finding Angelo, Laura, and Kyle, I offered a weak explanation about a mountain of library work for the night. They all gave me empathetic pats on the back.

The Baritone High library was impressive. It housed 10 large tables, and rows upon rows of books. I picked an empty table and pulled out my notebook and pencil case. We were not allowed to use laptops for our work, we had to write every report by hand. 10 pages of pure torture, I thought to myself.

A memory flickered, a conversation with Vinicius.

“What’s my gift?” I asked him as a young boy. I was still in the process of learning everything about what it meant to be a Special. He looked at me thoughtfully.

“You will figure it out on your own, eventually. But Dani,” he added in his soft tone, “It’s not worth focusing on the name of it, or what it entails, or how unique it makes you from others. The only important thing about gifts, is how we use them.”

“But how can I practice, if I don’t know what it is,” I'd whined back then.

He had chuckled, a sound like wind chimes in the summer breeze. “Oh, but you do know. You just haven’t put a name to it yet.”

“Do the other Specials know their gifts?” I inquired.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But if you ask me,” he leaned down to whisper, “Your gift is the best one of them all.”

I smiled remembering the conversation all too well.

Vinicius was as close as I would ever get to having a parent. With a sigh, I gripped the pen and started writing. Three hours of torture later, I was nearing the finish line, my hand a cramped claw. Stretching its protesting muscles, I glanced up and did a double take.

The boy from earlier, Vincent, strolled into the library. A ridiculous, childish thrill bubbled in my chest.

He was everything that old man Maratoni probably envisioned as the "perfect" vampire - dark hair, chiseled jawline, a brooding intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. I must have been staring because he let out a low chuckle, stopping by my table.

Vincent slid into the chair opposite me, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Not exactly prime territory for friend-making, this library," he remarked.

"Not everyone craves company," I replied, trying to appear nonchalant.

His smile remained. "We all crave connection, even Specials." He paused, his gaze flickering to the notebook. "Though Maratoni piling this much work on you after just one day is a special kind of cruel."

For a moment I was worried that maybe my gift was the reason that the boy wanted to speak with me. Everyone always seemed to be curious about the gift, not me as a person.

I closed the notebook involuntarily. Guarding the secret of the gift was part of my schooling. Only mentors and select government officials had knowledge of the gifts each Special possessed.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t trying to look,” Vincent said noticing the gesture. A touch of annoyance in his voice.

I scrambled to defuse the tension, not wanting to lose his friendship before it even really began. “I know, it’s just a habit,” I replied.

“I think you need to take a break,” the dark-haired boy suddenly suggested.

“I do?” I asked, confused.

“Yes, you look exhausted. Come with me, I want to show you something.”

Curiosity warring with apprehension, I hesitated. "Show me what?"

"Just trust me," Vincent urged, a hint of a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

My curiosity won over. Rising stiffly from my chair, I followed Vincent out of the library and through the hallways.

Vincent moved with a quiet confidence, a stark contrast to my own shyness. As we navigated the bustling halls, I noticed a subtle shift in the students' behavior. They seemed to give Vincent a wide berth, their whispers laced with a mixture of fear. Intrigued – and a touch concerned – I couldn't help but wonder why. After all, he was undeniably handsome, with a charisma that should have made him popular.

Finally, Vincent stopped before an unassuming door that looked more like a janitor's closet than anything else.

His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You promise not to tell anyone?” After a moment's hesitation I nodded. A satisfied smirk flickered across his face.

He opened the door, and as I had assumed, we were indeed in a small closet with cleaning supplies. He then reached up, yanking down a dusty ladder hidden within a recess in the ceiling. With a silent agility, he ascended, beckoning me to follow.

We were in some sort of ‘crawl space’, but it was tall and spacious, almost like an attic. Vincent pressed a finger to his lips, urging silence, and I complied. We walked for another minute or two, until we found ourselves standing on top of a large ceiling ventilator. Below, muffled voices filtered up. One of them sent a jolt of recognition through me. It was Maratoni.

Vincent crouched low, peering through the crack, and I followed suit, looking down at the scene below.

The room, bathed in sterile light, resembled a doctor's office. I quickly recognized my new mentor. He was there with a woman — a human. I could smell her blood. It had a sweet aroma.

Maratoni loosened his tie, his gaze lingering on the woman with a predatory intensity. Her red lips, slick with anticipation, parted in a seductive smile. Her curvaceous figure strained against the confines of the thin white dress.

"You exude an undeniable vitality today," Maratoni rasped, his voice laced with a hunger that sent shivers down Dani's spine.

"The wait has been excruciating, darling," the woman purred, a throaty laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t bring God into it, he has nothing to do with what’s about to happen,” Maratoni growled. In a flash of movement, he was upon her, the flimsy dress offering no resistance as he tore it open. A sharp gasp, laced with a hint of pleasure, escaped the woman's lips as Maratoni's fangs sunk deep into the exposed flesh of her right breast.

A strangled cry clawed at my throat, but Vincent's hand shot out, clamping over my mouth before the sound could escape. A silent plea flickered in Vincent's dark eyes, as he reminded me to be quiet with his finger once again pressed to his lips.

Below, Maratoni fed with a primal urgency, leaving a trail of dark bruises blooming on the woman's pale skin. A morbid fascination flickered across Vincent's face, his mouth slightly ajar in excitement.

I forced my gaze back down, and for a second I was worried Maratoni was going to kill her, or turn her, but then I heard a timer go off.

He had fed on her for as long as was legal, then, with practiced efficiency, he pulled back.

She lay on the gurney, drained but strangely content. Maratoni, his face an unreadable mask, straightened his clothes and swept out of the room without a word.

The sterile silence was broken by the hurried entrance of a vampire nurse. She bustled about, cleaning and tending to the woman, who seemed more revitalized than drained. A protein bar appeared in her hand, and she devoured it with surprising hunger.

We waited a beat longer, then Vincent propelled us to go back down.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered when we climbed back down into the storage room. After witnessing the strange scene upstairs, the close proximity to Vincent sent a jolt through me I couldn't decipher.

"Just a peek behind the curtain," Vincent said, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Maratoni might be a jerk, but now you know he has some skeletons in his closet."

Touching, I thought.

"Feeding directly from a human? Don’t most teachers choose to feed from the blood store supply?" I asked.

“Most of them yes. And more importantly, he’s definitely the only mentor I know of that drinks human blood straight from the source,” Vincent added. He seemed excited by it all, while I felt uneasy. It seemed strange for a mentor to be drinking from a human like that. They cared about preserving our bond with humans more than any other branch of the government.

“Was that his partner?” I asked.

“Nope, she’s a volunteer. It’s sort of like… blood prostitution,” Vincent replied. I didn’t even want to know where he got that knowledge.

"Blood prostitution?" The term left a sour taste in my mouth. “So, she gets paid?”

“No, she does it for free. She gets… excitement out of it,” he said. “There are a lot of humans who view being with a vampire as a high privilege. It’s sexually arousing to them.” I cringed hearing the information. Vinicius had always taught me to believe that humans and vampires were equal.

“Do you think that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I think what?” Vincent tilted his head, his gaze suddenly unreadable.

“Do you think that vampires are better than humans?” Vincent hesitated. Before I could press further, a jarring sound shattered the silence – a sharp rapping on the door. A voice sliced through.

“I can hear sounds where there shouldn’t be sounds. I will give you 20 seconds to clear out of there, before you’re in trouble,” the familiar tone announced.

“Angelo?” I asked, flinging the door open. He flashed a surprised smile my way. But his surprise was quickly eclipsed by a scowl directed at Vincent.

"Dani? What are you doing in here?" Angelo demanded, his voice laced with concern. "This is off-limits to students."

"Didn't mean any harm," Vincent replied, his tone nonchalant, though a flicker of annoyance sparked in his dark eyes. "Just showing the new student around."

Angelo's gaze narrowed, the prefect badge glinting on his chest. "While I appreciate the enthusiasm," he said, his voice clipped, "school policy is school policy. Dani gets a pass for ignorance, but you should know better."

Vincent's jaw clenched visibly, a muscle ticking in his temple. “What are you gonna do, run to the headmistress and tell?” he asked with a type of hostility I wasn’t expecting.

"My fault, Angelo," I lied, feeling a pang of guilt at involving him. "I wandered off and Vincent was just helping me find my way back."

“Don’t worry about it Dani,” Angelo replied, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. A stark contrast to the hostile glare he shot at Vincent, who scoffed under his breath.

“I’ll see you around,” Vincent said to me, striding off down the hallway.

Vincent seemed like trouble. But I couldn't deny the spark of excitement that thrummed through me for the first time in a long time. Maybe this final year wouldn't be so terrible after all.