a Different Kind of Vampire

No one ever looked down an adjoining hallway when they had a place to go. Destiny leaned against her locker and watched her rival walk down the halls, heading for whatever class he had after lunch. She caught a metaphysical whiff and couldn't help but feel guilty. Each person's life energy had a distinctive scent, and like a person's physical scent, it changed with their emotions. Young was worried. Afraid, but not for himself. He truly feared her and what she could do to his peers.

She pushed off the wall and walked slowly to her next class. How could he understand that she didn't hurt people when she fed? Just a taste of a person's essence in passing and she was done. A few minutes in a crowded hallway were more than enough to satisfy her, and she had ways of storing what she didn't eat. She had killed before, but Young really had very little to fear. When she was young and learning to control her ability, she'd killed. When she or someone else was in danger, she killed again. But she wouldn't dream of hurting him or his followers. They were far too valuable, and she still respected life. Why couldn't he--

She shook her head, angry at herself. Why did she care what he thought? He thought she was a monster, and in a way she was, but others had thought that before. Even she thought it occasionally, when everything was just too much. Why did she care?

Perhaps it was the simple fact that a Seer like him was just as rare as a Vampire like her.

Once every third century, if not rarer, one was born. A prophet who saw all that could be seen; a soldier who had no true needs. They were usually found and trained as soon as physically possible. It still amazed her that Young had lived a normal life at all, let alone for seventeen years.

Only twice had a Seer and a Vampire been born within even a century of each other, and this was the first time they'd been born in the same generation. It worried her. Vampires were bad: their coming told of war. Seers were equally bad: their coming created war. Everyone wanted the Seer, and if they couldn't have the Seer, no one could. Better a catastrophic war than their enemies knowing every move they will make.

But the same generation? If she'd been the elder, her birth could have been a foretelling of the war caused by his, but she wasn't. Unless the foretelling had been made necessary when he wasn't found.

She shook her head. It didn't matter. She'd bring him to her superiors, like she was supposed to, and they'd figure it out. Thinking was their job. Hunting was hers. It was what she did. It was her purpose.

It was all she was good for.