It was nighttime when Nick woke up in a coffin. His fingers were very white, but he did not feel cold at all. He opened the lid and spotted himself inside the chamber of a catacomb. There were no bodies inside the coffins, however. In fact, all the lids were open. And only the dangling spiders around him spun their webs heedless of his presence.

Nickolas had always been afraid of cemeteries, and the dark and musty smell of the cemented boxes stifled his breaths. He needed fresh air, but he couldn't find any exit from the room. Quickly, he jumped to the ground. His skin paled whitely against the midnight moon that shot through the cracks of the ceiling above. He felt for his face, but it somehow did not seem natural to him. It felt preserved like a piece of stale meat kept safely in a tight container. Alone in the dark, he had no idea where he was. And for the first time in his life, Nick felt confused and afraid.

He remembered only hazily what had happened some nights before in the woods. He and his best friend Brian had been out in the evening catching fireflies to glow in the paper lamp that they had built in the log cabin. They had smoked up a good fire and told ghost stories to pass by the night when they heard a large flutter of wings on top of them. And then, suddenly, a dark figure loomed in the dark haze of wings and came after the two. That Nickolas remembered. Then all he knew was the fire in his hands that he held to shoo away the deafening sound and shoving Brian out. And the dark figure grasped his neck tightly... very tightly... so that he could not run away and could not move. All he remembered was the fire stick that he held to burn away the deafening sound around him before he lost consciousness.

What was that? Nick heard some muffled voices of people at a nearby room. Clangs of forks and knives on dinner plates resonated throughout the dark halls. From the other end, Nick could see candlelights lighting the table with multiple figures around it. They seemed to have a good time. Quickly, Nickolas found a door and opened it, mesmerized and homesick for people's company, and followed the direction of the people's voices. Or what he thought they were.

"Ah... look fellows. The young boy has wakened up. My, you were right, Yekari. He is so beautiful. 'Tis is a shame to see him die so sadly in the woods," a young woman commented. Nick looked confused at the pale faces of strangers that seemed continually drained of energy. "Come, sit down, and have a nice drink."

Warmed by her reception, Nickolas decided to sit by her side. The ripped and bent chair creaked loudly against the splintered wood beneath as he pulled it up. He drank what was given to him in a tall bronze glass. It was thick and warm, and under the dim candlelight, it made him feel good. It amused the crowd of people around him to watch him drink it up greedily.

"So what is your name, young one?"

He stopped drinking. He was hesitant to give the strangers his name. "I'm Nickolas. Where am I?" It was simple enough for them to answer. He hoped.

The same woman answered, "You're safe with us. Please don't be alarmed. I'm Uque, and she's.."

"Where am I?" Nick persisted. Uncertain looks shot continually across the table, connecting the strange faces. Eventually, a mutual consensus was reached with nodding before the woman answered Nick again.

"This is our castle, Nickolas. We have lived in it for four centuries, beyond the foggy foothills and past the courtyards of noblemen. You live with us from now on."

"What?... Who are you?! What... what am I doing here?" Nick found his hand shaking his wine glass uncontrollably, and he put it down quickly. He stared intently at the woman's pale eyes and the other pale pairs of eyes with fear. Their faces looked stale and rubbery to him. He stood up. The chair creaked loudly as he pushed it out.

"What do you mean, 'who are you,' Nick? You're one of us. You know it."

Nick breathed rapidly. He felt his cheeks with desperate hands, but could not believe what his hands were touching. He was afraid of these pale-faced strangers. He was afraid of what he was feeling with his pale hands. He didn't want to be here anymore.

"No... no... no... " he repeated foolishly to himself. He stepped back from the table into the corner. Disbelief blinded his eyes. The pale pairs of eyes continued looking at him. The candle fire loomed ominously over the short wicks. Nick saw the table's and chairs' shadows dance wildly in the dimly lit room. He saw none of the strangers' shadows.

"Nick, we're all vampires."

"No!" Nick shouted. He could not bear to hear their voices anymore. He ran away as fast as he could from the dining table with quick, rapid breaths. But he didn't know where to run. He didn't know where he was inside these strangers' castle. He ran blindly down the corridors and past the coffin that he found himself in and sat at a dark corner where he thought the strangers might not find him. He didn't know how he had ended up in a strangers' place. He wanted his cozy bed. He wanted to see Brian's face. All he remembered was the fire stick in his hand that he used to burn away the deafening sound. Nick instinctively huddled his body for some warmth from the wintry night outside, but he did not feel cold at all.

Some time later, Nick heard some low voices conversing nearby. "I'll hide here tonight," he thought to himself and went to sleep curled in the corner.

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