~10-All Road Leads Back~

~Rhett~

The sun.

The moon.

The nocturnals.

I wake up to a dim room and unfamiliar ceiling. Where am I?

Rick—my dad—is dozing off next to me on the bedside chair. And for me, I'm on a sick bed?

"I'm on a SICK BED?" My inner voice repeats in a mantra to sink in reality. What happened to me? Damn, that hurting sensation that reels in whenever I try to remember things. 

"Oh, goodness. You're awake, son." Rick comes to awareness. He looks at me with such eyes, I felt the affection radiate from him towards me. As though he was scared for me before, and so I decide to ask. 

"What happened to me?"

"You collasped. We were conversing fine. It just happened all of a sudden. A brutal seizure, you had. The doctors couldn't figure it out. They said your body fought itself from within without a reason." He explains things to me, and for some reason, I don't seem surprised. Instead, I think I may understand what's happening to me. 

Just then, the door slides open, welcoming a nurse who has a report card in her hands. She has a folded paper which she passes to Rick. "The reports and medicines you should get him."

"I'm glad you're back, Mr. Slade." She brushes my dark blonde hair, as though she knows me since forever, but it was cosy and I smile. "Please, take care of yourself and adhere to your medications. You're not in danger of any severe condition, so don't be frightened." She laughs mildly to keep the air less tensed, and it worked. 

About half an hour later, Rick and I get inside the truck and he drives us home. In all honesty, I must say I'm glad he was around. What if I had collapsed inside the house and there was no one to come to my aid. Oh, man, I'll find a time to call Valois and bash him for leaving me alone and having my dad to take care of me. Now, I have to say a "thank you" to Rick. 

When we get home, Rick prepares me a bowl of cereal to eat at first because I feel weak and exhausted. My insides feel like I had puked heavily and the internal walls are sore, and there's nothing to keep my energy elevating. 

"Should I prepare you something better? Um, what about rice, beans, something of the sort?" 

"No, dad. Thank you for your hospitality." Ugh, there again, I used the endearing word for him. 

I can feel Rick smiling with all his teeth behind me as I carry the bowl into my room. Whilst chewing, forcing myself to swallow, I think back to what happened at the restaurant last night. I was comatosed for almost twelve hours. I'm not going to let this go. 

Something is definitely wrong with me. I am not mistaken. And if I'm to find things out, I must start from that man, Reynolds Noir. Yes, I know the name now. He's dead for some reason that I must be involved in. He and I were close, according to the brunette Elodie, but I didn't remember anything about him. Also, I still can't remember anything from about a week of my life. It's all vague and foggy. 

Within a few minutes, my research brings out the news on Reynolds' funeral. Oh, my, he's the son of King Hunter Noir the Twenty-third. Trust me, I don't know much about their family, but they are stinkingly rich. You know that kind of old money rich, where their generations go by weird titles, own multiple streets in different states, and the government has nothing on them. Yes, that is the Hunter family. 

Their family history exist with so much details they had to make a museum to study them, and by that, I mean, anyone who's an historian must know of the Hunter family. That's how deep-rooted their status are in the entire world. Their family consists of different races, ethics, and history, but in the end, they are one, ruled by one King. It's so cliché, I'm aware. 

The sun is beginning to waltz away when I get out of the house. Rick is watching a show on the TV, but I think he may have heard my heavy feet. I'm about to start his truck when he comes out. 

"Where are off to, son?"

"I'll be back, Rick. I have to go and do something."

"Let me come with you. It's getting late. What if something happens to you?" That speech—it is familiar. I had said the same thing to my mom the night she died. 

She promised to come back too. But perhaps now I finally understand why she had left. She had to do it. She had go and help him, the same way I must do this. I must find out whatever is behind this new me, what changed me, took away my memories, and alas, what happened in-between that moment...why was my memory taken away? What sort of pain had I suffered that my body wanted so badly to forget that it would hurt itself to keep away?

Then, I pull off the street, following the address. It is late in the night when I arrive at the place. 

It is the only cemetery in the Noir town. I begin my search a moment later, watching the funeral video over and over again to find the spot, and eventually, I got it. 

I am standing in front of the tombstone, narrowing my eyes as I read under my breath. "Reynolds Noir" The rest of the writings were written in languages other than English, so I couldn't read it but I fear it means something important. 

I've been staring at the headstone for some minutes now, my veins flowing with dreadful blood whenever I think of touching it. My mind is afraid of what could occur, what I might see, or if the seizure might arose again. And boy do I recollect how painful it was. 

"And who the fuck are you?" All train of thoughts wrecked down the pit. I gasp, jump, and turn around. A stern-looking man has his eyes on me. He looks like a Mafia with dark tinted ash hair, brows, and goatee beard. He looks old yet young, like some man in his late fifties you want to go on your knees and worship or make a sugar daddy. 

As much as I'm frightened by his dominant aura, I'm as well whipped in the ass by them. He's scorchingly hot, a smouldering expression kept and then, when I think deeper, I seem to find the resemblance. 

"King Hunter Noir the Twenty-third. Oh, man." I whisper but I think he may have heard.

Another voice beams from beside us, coming into the light. "Oh, father, do not act like you care if anyone pisses on Reynolds' grave or not. If you did, you'd have trained him like you did us."

"Precisely." Another man this time around, coming from the shadows from the other side. He has the same face as the previous presence. I think they are twins but this current man has a distinct character. He looks...blind, however, he seems less like his condition. If anything, I could swear he isn't blind.

No, in fact, both the twins have distinct characters. While one is blind, the other which was the first I saw, has a claw mark around the left side of his neck. I can't imagine the pain he passed through while it was fresh.

They both walk even more dangerous towards us, and my poor heart is hammering. 

"What are you both doing here?"

"Oh, you're not the only one who is to pay your respect to the dead." The one with the mark says. He has a sharp mouth.

"A human though." Dryly, nonchalantly, the second one speaks. His voice is purely cold. 

The three of them focuses on me. Three members of the Hunter family. What do I say? My throat is surprisingly dry. So unlike myself. 

"I...I just wanted to check the..." Fuck, I'm cooked. 

"It is you. Rhett Slade. A toy Reynolds kept private to himself." Mentions the blind twin.

"The actual fuck? Pardon?" I don't know when they came out. 

Following his other pair asks. "Are you sure, Alaric?"

"Oh, I never forget a voice nor smell, Valor. He is precisely the last human Reynolds had contact with before his death. My bad, I stalked. Briefly." Affirms Alaric. 

I have no idea what they're saying. I mean, I remember the frat party, and yes, I think I was the last person Reynolds was with, but I can't remember anything else. 

"Do you know what happened that night? I can't remember anything. I know I followed him into the woods but I...it's all vague."

"And the vampire is smart after all."

"Wait, what?" Did I hear the one with the mark appropriately? Then, he adds. "Blindfold him. Bring him along." 

Two men come from nowhere to do as he bids, pulling me into another jump scare. 

"No! What are you doing?"

"I'm saving you, human. It is undoubtedly a vampire. Although, I wonder, why take your memories when he could have killed you?" After those two men have pinned me down and blindfolded me, keeping me in the dark with shuddering breaths, he goes ahead to ask before the sudden unconsciousness. 

"Are you special, human, even to a vampire king?"