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The Immortal Rules

By @choppedmint

Story 12

I can’t do this.

That’s all I know. All I’ll allow myself to think.

Sam looked at the bottle that Myrnin had set in front of him.

It was warm. Sam had seen Myrnin put it in the small microwave that was in the lab. A small thing that was probably made for an RV.

“I’m not doing it,” Sam pointed out.

His arms were crossed over his chest and he did this partly because it helped the crawling feeling in his chest. Myrnin shrugged, leaving the bottle on the fold-out kitchen table. He moved back to the polished counter, leaning against it with eyes half-lidded. 

It wasn’t like Sam wanted to do this. Go hungry. But he also didn’t want to give in to what was, as far as he could think of, consumption of what was friends and relatives for someone. People who talked, and walked, and laughed. He couldn’t shake that thought at all.

Myrnin seemed to be perfectly patient with this, but still didn’t give an inch. “You attacked at my friend. You eat.”

Samuel visibly squirmed. He hadn’t meant to do that. He almost gave in, as he had several times before. Myrnin was right, of course. He was … dangerous.

And Myrnin was well aware that Sam was in denial. But that wasn’t a state of being that could be continued for very long. He knew that Sam didn’t have to like it but he did need to continue to survive.

“I won’t force you to do anything,” he said. He waved a hand in the direction of the table. “You’ll pick it up under your own power.” He seemed to be very confident in this statement and finally pushed himself away from the counter, walking around the room for a second, going to the small refrigerator and opening it. He had a bunch of random things in there. Sam had looked in once. He didn’t think he’d do that again. The mad scientist of a vampire didn’t make the inside very appeasing to the eye. He also kept extra bottles along the edge of the door and he took one of these, turned around and unabashedly unscrewing the top and draining the contents like it didn’t matter one bit. His eyes drifted to a red color for a second before fading back to green.

And then he proceeded to spin the bottle between his hands, like he had all the time in the world. Which he did. If Sam would actually take care of himself, then so would he.

An hour later Sam was leaning his head against the center island, having moved away from the fold out table. Finally, he spun away from his seating arrangement and grabbed at the bottle. Myrnin grunted very briefly in satisfaction. It was worse than a sick person that wouldn’t take medicine. But it was better than the last time and maybe he’d slowly warm up to it. It was hard to tell.

But he was moving and he was slowly getting better. Myrnin wasn’t used to this at all. He’d rarely heard of almost complete rejection of what the boy had become. Maybe it was because, from what Myrnin could gather, the boy wanted to survive. There needed some sort of permission when changed into a vampire. It was always necessary. But you could be tricked and wheedled and a simple desire to live could function as the same thing. If that had been Sam than Myrnin couldn’t blame him for being the way he was.

There isn’t anything Myrnin could do. It was just going to be him fighting Sam to live until he found reason to start relying on himself. He could do that. He’d failed so many times before, he wasn’t going to do that this time. No, not again. Because he’d failed someone before and he needed to make sure that failure never affected Samuel. If it did, Myrnin wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

“I think that maybe you should visit some friends of mine,” he said quietly.

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