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Martyn knew to stay away from vampires.
Of course he did– everyone knew that. There wasn’t a single instance of someone walking away from a vampire encounter alive or unharmed. Even vampire hunters relied heavily on luck when it came to the creatures; you’d have to be crazy to willingly seek one out.
Martyn chuckled at the thought. Maybe he had gone mad. It’s not like he’d be able to tell at this point.
He’d been wandering aimlessly through the forest for days, the soles of his leather boots long since worn smooth from the cobbled paths, when he happened upon an old rusted sign. ‘ Welcome to Afterlife, ’ it read. Beneath the greeting, a sloppy red ‘X’ eliminated the population marker. Martyn had shivered. He’d lost his map a long time ago, but he didn’t recall a town called Afterlife anywhere near this section of the forest.
As if on cue, Martyn’s stomach let out a low growl. His limited food supply had run out the day prior, and spite was the only thing keeping him upright. Martyn had decided that he didn’t particularly care if his brains got eaten out, as long as he got a decent meal and somewhere to sleep that wasn’t the bug-infested crook of a tree.
Now, thanks to his own foolishness, he found himself at the foot of a grand and shadowy manor with a vampire’s emblem on the door, the red flickering windows of which seemed to be the only sign of life in the whole of Afterlife. Martyn had gone through the whole rest of the town, but every door he knocked on and handle he tried only greeted him with cobwebs, silence, and the occasional startled spider.
Martyn shivered at the thought. He’d heard horror stories of single vampires decimating entire towns and leaving nothing but bones and dust. As hungry and tired as he was, he didn’t know if he could do this.
Fortunately, it turned out he didn’t have to. The handle turned on the grand oak door in front of him as it creaked open, revealing a ruby-eyed man with ivory white hair smirking at him.
“Hello, human ,” he drawled. “Are you going to come in, or just stand on the doorstep for a while more?”
Martyn squeaked, his face flushing red. He knew the guy had to be a vampire, but void, he was pretty. His red vest and ruffled dress shirt perfectly complimented his hair and eyes, and the black cape on his shoulders appeared to almost melt into the shadows behind him.
“Don’t let me scare you,” the vampire’s voice was like poisoned honey. “I don’t bite. Sometimes.”
“I– Uh–” Martyn tore his eyes away from the white-haired man, focusing on the ornate carvings on the doorframe. Those were some incredible vine carvings. And wow, was that a bat? “You wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest town is, would you?”
The vampire smirked. “But you’re standing in one right now.”
“No, like– uh, like an inhabited town. With restaurants and stuff. And hotels. Man, I really need a good hotel right about now.”
“Is that so? Well, it would just happen that you’re standing on the doorstep of Smajor enterprises, the finest hotel with the finest rooms in all the country, as well as the only one for miles and miles.”
“Hotel? This creepy mansion doesn’t look much like a hotel.” Martyn raised an eyebrow, settling into the conversation. “Especially not the finest one in the country.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.” The vampire shrugged.
“Try what? What business would a random vampire have trying to pretend his house is a hotel to some idiot?”
“Perhaps I just wanted to get you inside my house. My room, even.”
“Forward much?” Martyn tried to brush the comment off, but couldn’t hide his blush. “You don’t even know my name. At least buy me dinner first.”
“Well, that can certainly be remedied.” the vampire smiled with fake sweetness. “You can call me Scott. Scott Smajor. And you?”
“Martyn Littlewood,” Martyn replied, his tone equally cloying. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s not a sentiment I’d usually agree with, but funnily enough, likewise.”
Martyn laughed. “I’m surprised I didn’t just flee for my life at first glance, to be honest. If I was any less hungry and tired, I probably would have.”
“You didn’t, though, and there’s nothing to be done about it now.” the vamp– Scott snickered. “An unlikely pair, to be certain”
“I definitely didn’t think this was how my evening would go.”
“My day hasn’t been normal at all, this is just the cherry on top.” Scott laughed. “Say, didn’t you mention you were hungry? I’ve got a wonderful selection of food inside.”
“Oooooh no.” Martyn chuckled nervously, taking a few steps back. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t drink blood, like most regular humans.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about a little thing like that. I’m rather fond of human foods myself. In fact, I made a delicious pasta salad the other day I’ve just been dying to share with someone. Not a drop of blood involved, I promise.”
Martyn stopped. He did love pasta salad. But… this guy was a vampire. Ever since he could first understand words, he’d been warned against vampires, and this one was trying to get him inside its house. His house , his mind unhelpfully supplied.
But on the other hand… he was really tired. And he hadn’t properly eaten in days. And he wasn’t likely to find anywhere else to stay before starving or dropping dead of exhaustion.
“Promise?” he asked.
“Of course.” the vampire replied in that dangerously sugary tone, and Martyn felt himself just about melt. Sure, he might get exsanguinated (a fancy word for blood draining), but if it was at Scott’s hands, he found he didn’t really care.
Martyn sighed. “Fine. take me to the pasta salad. And I swear to the void, you had better have some italian vinaigrette, or I’m leaving.”