Sacrum - 2. Chapter 2: Mysterious Stranger

2. MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

The dreary sound of the alarm woke me. I lay on the bed for a long while, rubbing my eyes and mentally preparing for another day at Baritone High. Last night, the flickering lamp had cast long shadows as I wrestled with Maratoni's essay. I didn’t want to guess the type of wrath that would fall upon me if I didn’t hand in one of his assignments on time. Thankfully, my status as a Special granted me the privilege of my own single room, which offered plenty of privacy.

I tried to convey everything that Vinicius had taught me about the gift, and how I was supposed to use it. Despite the fact that I didn’t feel comfortable with Maratoni as my mentor, and despite the fact that I didn’t want him to have any information about me whatsoever, I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was my mentor, my teacher, and my superior. This wasn’t a battle I could win.

Angelo and Kyle’s dorm room was close by, and I met them on our way to class. We had Math in the morning, followed by Biology, and then to my horror Vampire History, meaning I would need to see Maratoni for two hours instead of one. As if one wasn’t bad enough already.

The image of Maratoni feeding – the raw hunger on his face, the woman's pale skin – remained seared into my memory. That was the first time I had ever witnessed a vampire drinking from a human.

Vinicius' words echoed in my ears. “Humans are not our toys, Dani. We must never use them as such." I wondered what he would have thought of his mentor colleague participating in such an act. Everything felt so confusing now with him being gone.

The first two classes blurred by in a haze of exhaustion and worry. The weight of recent events pressed down on me, making it impossible to focus on numbers or cell mutations.

The only spark of intrigue came in Vampire History, where a familiar dark head stood out amongst my classmates. Vincent.

I tried not to stare in his direction, but it was a difficult task. Vincent was like a magnet. I felt a strong and constant pull toward him. Luckily, every time my eyes wandered in his direction, he seemed to be looking right back at me. Maybe, just maybe, he also felt a pull towards me.

Lost in the whirlpool of my emotions and Vincent’s brown eyes, I completely missed Maratoni's attempt to get my attention. The sharp rap of the ruler on my desk startled him back to reality.

Maratoni's voice dripped with icy sarcasm. "Perhaps Specials transcend the need for schooling, already possessing all the knowledge and lacking the most basic courtesy – like paying attention."

“I’m sorry sir,” I replied, my daydream now forgotten.

"Enlighten us then," Maratoni continued like a predator stalking prey. "Tell me about the Rebellion of the Clans War."

My mind drew a blank. I stole a glance at Angelo, whose hand shot up impatiently, brimming with the answer Maratoni seemed to crave.

But Maratoni ignored him. His gaze remained fixed on me, a challenge glinting in his eyes. "Forgotten already? Or perhaps Vinicius' teachings were... lacking?"

“I don’t… I don’t remember sir,” I stammered out.

“No? How long were vampires ruled by the monarchy, and what year did that come to an end?” Again, I didn’t know. Angelo’s hand shot up next to me, but Maratoni didn’t even glance in his direction.

“What exactly did Vinicius teach you all those years, I wonder. Perhaps it would serve you well to pay more attention to me,” he stated, in that agitated tone of voice he used with such pleasure.

A spark of defiance ignited within me. It was one thing to endure Maratoni's barbs, but to disrespect my former mentor was a line crossed.

I had made up my mind. I would do whatever was necessary to get another mentor.

I was saved by the bell.

“That was brutal,” Angelo murmured under his breath, his voice laced with sympathy. I nodded. I still had another hour to endure.

“Tell me about it.”

“We’ll see you later… if you make it out,” Angelo said, giving me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. As he moved away, I caught a glimpse of Vincent glaring daggers in his direction. He approached me right after Angelo left, as students were still clearing out of the classroom.

“Ready for another adventure tonight?” He asked, piquing my interest.

“What kind of adventure?” Vincent's lips curved into a mischievous grin.

“Meet me by the storage closet when Maratoni is done torturing you,” he said. The wink he threw my way sent a jolt through me. If I still had a heartbeat, it would have been beating wildly for Vincent.

Maratoni's hand shot out, impatience etched on his face. "The paper," he barked. I pulled out the 10 pages and handed it over.

"No cover page?" he critiqued instantly.

"I wasn't aware it was necessary," I mumbled.

"Ten flimsy pages containing information you're sworn to protect, and you think a simple sheet of paper wouldn't be prudent?" He asked sarcastically, then added, “Vinicius really did you a disservice.” The statement made me boil with rage.

"Vinicius was a good mentor," I snapped, defiance replacing my initial trepidation. "And a great vampire."

Maratoni stared at me for a moment.

"Perhaps the fault lies with the student, then. After all, a truly exceptional student wouldn't be so easily abandoned," he said, cruelly.

The words were a sucker punch, the sting echoing in the sterile silence of the classroom. I saw a flicker of satisfaction in Maratoni's eyes, a confirmation of his deliberate cruelty.

He settled behind his desk with the red pen in his hand as he began his ruthless critique, scrawling harsh marks across my carefully crafted words. Despair threatened to consume me. This was a dead end. Maratoni wouldn't be a guide; he'd be an obstacle.

Panic clawed at my throat. Vinicius' teachings, though valuable, weren't enough. The last year before turning 18 was a crucial age for Specials. At 18 we were expected to know exactly how to utilize our gift and feel confident in doing so. I was nowhere near that stage.

Speaking with the headmistress, a long shot at best, was my only option.

After an hour Maratoni handed me back the paper which he had mutilated with his red pen.

“Well, wordsmith you are not,” he sneered, as I tried to keep it together. “And your pitiful knowledge of your own gift is… frighteningly abysmal. But I won't pin all the blame on you. Vinicius' unorthodox teaching methods…" he trailed off, a pointed barb aimed at my deceased mentor. "Let's just say they left much to be desired."

"Of course I’ll try to remedy the situation, but there’s only so much I can do in this amount of time,” he said. “I want you to rewrite this paper with my comments in mind, plus an additional five pages for good measure. Don't forget a cover page this time.” My jaw hit the floor. He leaned back in his chair, a cruel amusement dancing in his eyes.

“For tomorrow?” I asked in disbelief. He just nodded his head smiling, as if he was waiting for me to complain. It felt like a deliberate attempt to break me. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

I snatched my belongings, the crumpled essay a physical manifestation of my inadequacy, and walked out of the classroom as fast as I could, almost forgetting about my meeting with Vincent. He was standing by the storage closet, leaning on the wall, his eyes watchful.

“What happened?” He asked when he saw the angry look on my face.

“Maratoni, he is the biggest jerk. Where is the headmistress’ office? I need a new mentor,” I stated, and Vincent quickly glanced around, making sure nobody heard me say that.

“Calm down, Dani,” he replied.

“You don’t understand how awful he is!”

“Trust me, I do. But there is absolutely no way in hell that Boeriella Trusting is going to give you a new mentor. You know that already.”

“No, I don’t, there’s a possibility. Maybe she’ll take pity on me,” I replied, clinging to a sliver of hope.

Vincent wasn't convinced. “Even if she was completely on your side, she still wouldn’t be able to conjure you up a new mentor. Maratoni is the closest one, and the only one that can take the time away from his own Special.”

My anger fizzled, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. How did Vincent know so much about the system of mentors? A pang of guilt stabbed me. In my frustration, I had completely forgotten that Maratoni already had a Special before my unexpected arrival.

"Is he here?" I asked. "At Baritone?" Vincent shook his head.

"No, Demetrius graduated early. He has private lessons with Maratoni outside of school. Doesn't require the same level of… hand-holding anymore."

I felt a suffocating wave of despair crash over me. If I didn’t think I could feel any worse after my conversation with Maratoni, I was wrong. Not only was Maratoni right – other Specials were miles ahead – but my predecessor had apparently been a prodigy who needed minimal guidance. The revelation was a whole new level of disheartening.

And how the hell did Vincent know so much about it all?

"How do you know all this?" I blurted, a question tinged with suspicion.

“Let's just say I have my… sources,” he said mysteriously. "But enough about that. We have an adventure waiting."

I was not in an adventurous type of mood. The new information had brought down my mood a couple thousand pegs, and the new paper I had due for Maratoni the next day loomed over my head like a dark cloud. But I found myself unable to refuse. There was something about Vincent, an undeniable magnetism that rendered me powerless to resist.

We walked down the hallway until we reached a side exit.

“Remember, don’t tell anyone,” Vincent said quietly, as he cracked open the door.

A knot of unease tightened in my gut. It had started to become obvious that my relationship with Vincent was full of secrets. On one hand, it felt exhilarating. I liked feeling as if we had our own little world that only we knew about. On the other hand, I could hear Vinicius’ words as clear as night, “Secrets are the threads of desolation. If you have enough of them, you will quilt a blanket of sorrow, which will cover and separate you from everyone around.”

Was this the path we were weaving, a tapestry of unspoken truths? And if Vincent felt comfortable revealing this, what other secrets did he harbor?

We walked through another door until we found ourselves in the cool night air. I faltered, we weren’t supposed to go outside without supervision. Leaving, especially for a Special, was strictly forbidden.

A flicker of apprehension shimmered in Vincent's eyes, but his voice remained steady.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his gaze holding me captive. His brown eyes probing into my blue ones. I thought about it for a moment. Vincent was full of secrets, yes, but brought me a strange sense of security too.

“Yes,” I replied truthfully. Vincent's hand, surprisingly large and cool, suddenly engulfed mine, as he lead me in the direction of the forest in the back of the school. We walked silently for about ten minutes, until we reached a little wooden shack. He opened the door and I followed him inside.

It was a tiny little place, with a table, two chairs, and a little cot on the floor – a hidden sanctuary.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“An abandoned hunting lodge,” he replied. “Turned into our little hideaway.” More secrets, I thought.

“If we get caught outside…” I mused.

Vincent's smile held a dangerous edge. “We won’t,” he replied with confidence. Suddenly, I felt nervous. We were all alone, in the middle of the woods, in a rustic hut. This was exactly the type of situation Vinicius would have asked me to avoid.

Vincent's gaze lingered on my face, a strange intensity in his brown eyes. “You know," he began, his voice low and husky, "I don’t usually try to get close to people."

The statement sent a jolt through me. “Should I be flattered?” I asked, a nervous flutter in my chest. He chuckled, the sound rich and warm.

"Flattered? Let's just say I'm surprised." He tilted his head, studying me with a penetrating gaze that made me feel both exposed and strangely safe. "Surprised you'd want to be friends with someone like me."

“Why wouldn’t I?” I blurted, caught off guard by his words. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features, a fleeting expression that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He scrutinized me for a moment longer, as if searching for a clue.

"Maratoni wasn't entirely wrong," he finally said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You have a… terrible understanding of history, to say the least."

The joke went over my head, leaving me confused. Before I could question him further, his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He fished it out, his smile fading as he scanned the message.

"Sorry, Dani," he said, a touch of regret in his eyes. "We'll have to continue this later. Something unexpected has come up."

A pang of disappointment lanced through me. His company was a welcome distraction.

Back inside of the building I met up with Angelo, Laura, and Kyle for a brief break before we headed to the library to work on homework. They finished much faster, seeing as the school year had just started and teachers weren’t giving out too much work yet. I was the only one drowning with a fifteen-page essay to complete in record time.

"Maratoni's the absolute worst," Laura declared in solidarity with my pain after I had recounted the unpleasant private lessons with the balding tyrant.

“Tell me about it,” I replied. "Speaking of getting away from him, where's the headmistress' office?"

“Uh oh,” Angelo butted in, “Thinking of swapping out of Maratoni's class?”

“Considering it,” I admitted. Laura looked concerned.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” she warned. “Boeriella Trusting is unlikely to let you transfer Dani, and if word reaches Maratoni that you tried, he might become even more unbearable.” Angelo and I exchanged looks.

“Is that even possible?” I asked, sarcasm lacing my voice. Angelo and Kyle laughed. Laura chuckled with empathy.

“Look, if you really want to try, I’ll take you. I meet with Mrs. Trusting almost daily for my prefect briefings,” Angelo announced, puffing out his chest with pride. Kyle and Laura rolled their eyes in unison.

“Great!” I replied with enthusiasm, my hope flaring. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to accomplish by speaking to the headmistress, but I knew that Maratoni as my mentor was an equation that would never work.

After battling with my paper for what felt like an eternity, I finally slammed my notebook shut, the completed essay a small victory in a seemingly impossible war. With Angelo by my side, I marched towards the headmistress' office, located light-years away at the opposite end of the school. He wished me luck at the door, leaving me to face the unknown.

I knocked and right away heard a voice telling me to enter. Pushing open the door, I found himself face-to-face with Boeriella Trusting, the headmistress.

“Ah, my fascinating new Special,” she announced, almost as if she was expecting me. “I was wondering when you’d make an appearance.”

Boeriella was undeniably striking. Probably the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing features that seemed almost sculpted. Her white suit, tailored to perfection, exuded an aura of authority softened by the glint of gold jewelry that adorned her wrists and fingers.

"Please, take a seat," she kindly offered, gesturing towards a plush armchair. Her office was enormous, and brightly lit, the complete opposite of Maratoni’s oppressive dungeon.

“How are you settling in, my dear?” she asked warmly, her voice surprisingly gentle.

“Good, thank you,” I replied, suddenly feeling shy in her stunning presence.

“I am happy to hear that. I know the students of Baritone are thrilled to have you here. Despite the sad circumstances that surround your departure from your previous school. I know it couldn’t have been easy to lose your mentor so abruptly,” she empathized.

“That’s actually why I’m here, Mrs. Trusting,” I replied. She listened intently. “I was wondering… I know it’s a long shot, but is there anyway I could have a different mentor?”

“Ah… of course. I take it Professor Maratoni and you didn’t get off to a good start,” she replied sympathetically.

“Not exactly,” I said.

Boeriella's smile faltered.

“I’m sorry to hear that Dani. I can’t imagine the stress of coming here and having to meet a new mentor. And I understand your reluctance at having to be taught by Professor Maratoni. But I don’t want to give you any false hopes," she said, her voice laced with a hint of regret.

"Professor Maratoni is the only mentor available. He is the only mentor in the country. Normani is in France, De Rossi is in Italy, and Altieri is all the way in Austria. He also has the ability to give you the necessary time, seeing as his own Special doesn’t need as much supervision,” she went on.

She paused, then added, seemingly in an attempt to soften the blow, "And Dani, while the others are exceptional, let there be no doubt between you and I, having known him for many centuries, nobody will ever be able to replace Vinicius."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. If tears were a possibility, both of us would have been weeping.

I nodded, defeated. “I understand. It was silly of me to ask."

“No, not silly at all. Know that you can always walk through these doors and talk to me about anything and everything. I am here for you,” she stated. With a grateful nod, I rose to leave. However, Boeriella held up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

“There’s two other matters,” she began, her gaze turning serious. “First, starting tomorrow, you'll have bi-weekly appointments with Nurse Mildred. It’s nothing serious, she will only be making notes for the Special program."

I frowned, a sliver of unease creeping in. Vinicius had never subjected him to such examinations. It’s not like vampires were prone to any physical ailments. But I simply nodded my head in agreement.

"Now, the second matter is a bit more delicate," Boeriella said, her voice dropping to quieter tone. "I know it's not my place to interfere into your personal life, but I feel obligated to warn you." I listened intently.

"I've heard rumors about you befriending a boy named Vincent. While I'm happy you're settling in, some… friendships are best avoided." I sat there with my mouth open, completely taken aback by her comment.

“Why?” I asked simply.

“Let’s just say, you two come from very different worlds. It’s difficult to explain but… a lot of people would not appreciate the two of you being friends. And personally, I don’t think it will be beneficial to your growth Dani,” she added. I sat there, stunned. Why did my social life suddenly matter to the headmistress? Why was my friendship with the black-haired vampire such a concern?

“But,” I started to protest, only to be silenced by a gentle shake of her head.

"I understand this is confusing, Dani," Boeriella said, her voice firm but not unkind. "We'll discuss it further at another time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pressing conference call."

She then picked up the phone and turned her chair away, as I reluctantly made my way out, bewildered and frustrated.

The world of Baritone High was becoming more complex with every passing moment. Why would the headmistress have a sudden interest in my friendships? It made absolutely no sense. Even if we were worlds apart, like she had stated, what did it matter?

Vinicius' words echoed in my mind: "Everyone deserves a chance." It had always been a mantra he lived by - this beacon of hope in a sometimes unforgiving world.

"Even the truly evil?" I had once asked, a flicker of doubt dancing in my young eyes.

Vinicius' smile had been enigmatic. "Even them. Because hidden within the darkest corners, you might just find a sliver of good."

"But what if there's only darkness? What if they’re all bad, every inch of them?" I had persisted, my childish logic struggling to comprehend the complexities of morality.

“Would you write them off Dani, and cast them aside, instead of waiting to see if maybe one day, an inch of them could turn good once again?”

“That seems like a tiresome task,” I announced. Vinicius chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room.

“Yes, yes it does. That is the price of patience. It can be quite tiresome at times,” he said.

Those words held a new weight now, as I stared at Vincent, who had just rounded the corner and bumped right into me.

"You spoke with her, didn't you?" Vincent asked, a slight tone of irritation lacing his voice.

I nodded, replying truthfully. "I had to try."

A frustrated sigh escaped Vincent's lips. "And it didn't work, did it? Just like I said."

"It was worth a shot," I insisted, a spark of defiance igniting within me.

Vincent's eyes narrowed, his voice turning sharp. "Was it, Dani? Don't you trust my judgment?"

This anger burning in his eyes was a new side of Vincent, a chilling contrast to the easygoing person I had come to know. Suddenly, as if he realized the intensity of his reaction, he attempted an apology.

"I... I didn't mean to sound like that," he said carefully.

I blurted out, "The headmistress told me to stay away from you. She said we were from two different worlds, and that people wouldn’t like us being friends. Care to clear that up for me?"

Vincent's jaw clenched tight, his features hardening. A darkness flickered in his brown eyes. He hesitated for a long moment, as if contemplating a difficult truth.

"Look, Dani," he said finally, his voice strained, "if you don't want to be friends, I won't force you. It's your choice."

Panic surged through me. That was not what I had meant. "No, that's not it. I want to be friends. It's just... everyone seems to be keeping secrets from me."

Vincent appeared torn, a silent battle raging within him. But whatever revelation he'd been about to make died on his lips.

Instead, he abruptly changed the subject, asking, “Wanna sneak away to the woods for a while?”

Despite Boeriella's warning, I found myself unable to resist.

We quietly made our way back to the abandoned hut in the woods, which I noted had a new comforter on top of the old cot. As well as some books and a set of cards.

“It’s in case one of us has to wait for the other. A way to pass time,” he explained as he saw me stare at the new additions. I nodded.

As we played cards, Vincent asked about my past, the life I'd left behind, and the bond I shared with Vinicius. For some reason I felt like I could speak freely with him. I told him about how much the old vampire had meant to me. How wonderful he had been. And I told him about my old school, and the few friends I had left behind.

Vincent listened carefully, a flicker of something akin to understanding passing through his eyes.

"What about you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Where do you come from?"

Vincent's eyes clouded over, a veil of sadness descending upon his features. "It's just me and my mom," he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion. I sensed a barrier I couldn't cross, a past shrouded in secrecy. I decided to tread lightly.

“What happened to your dad?” I asked gently. I had always been curious about family dynamics, having never experienced one. I wondered what it would be like to have a father and a mother who loved me.

Vincent's gaze drifted away from my eyes and dropped to the cards, “He died when I was a baby."

A wave of empathy washed over me. I understood the sting of losing a father figure.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

A humorless chuckle escaped Vincent's lips. "It's okay. Everyone dies eventually, even vampires."

He looked back up into my eyes with an oppressive sadness. Driven by a sudden impulse, I reached out and took Vincent's hand. A jolt of energy surged between us.

I felt a torrent of emotions that weren't my own. It was Vincent's despair, a bottomless well of sorrow that threatened to drown him. I flinched, my vision blurring at the edges.

We intertwined our fingers and suddenly the room felt light again, and Vincent’s sadness was gone. It was replaced by something that felt like a power surge. His eyes lit up in excitement, and so did mine. We were both feeling something larger than either one of us. Suddenly he broke the hand contact.

"You look faint," Vincent said, his voice laced with concern. And soon after his hand left mine, I felt my upper half fold back onto the cot, as the world dissolved into darkness.

When my eyelids fluttered open again, I found myself staring up at the wooden ceiling of the hut. Vincent hovered above me, a damp cloth pressed to my forehead.

"What happened?" I croaked, my voice dry.

"You fainted," Vincent explained, his brow furrowed. "You were out cold for a few minutes."

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over me. "I feel... awful."

“Let’s get you back to your dorm," Vincent said, gently helping me to my feet.

He walked me back to my room, and I leaned on him for most of the way. Vincent, uncharacteristically gentle, ran a hand through my hair as we said goodbye. "Get some sleep," he murmured as we reached the dorm.

Inside, I collapsed onto my bed. Sleep came quickly, a refuge from the day's unsettling events.

I dreamt of my old school and Vinicius, and then of Boeriella telling me not to be friends with Vincent, and Maratoni yelling at me and saying I was behind all the other Specials, and then I dreamt of Vincent.

Except, he wasn’t Vincent anymore. His face was stone cold, and his eyes... his eyes were blood red.