The Progeny

by Shelley Crowley

  Alexander grinned with triumph. I guess Nico didn’t steal everything from me.

  Seb grabbed the bouncing ball in mid-air. “Nice shot.”

  “Thanks. Now, shirt off.”

  Seb looked up from the ball. “What?”

  Alexander grinned. “Oh, did I forget to mention? We’re playing strip basketball.”

  “I didn’t agree to that,” said Seb, shaking his head and laughing. He pressed the ball between his hands, making his biceps taut. “It seems to me like this has all been some ploy to get me naked. No wonder you suggested the pool first.”

  “Well, skinny dipping is only fun when you have a partner,” shrugged Alexander with his mischievous grin still fixed on his face.

  Seb cracked up, wheezing a little.

  “Now come on.” Alexander gestured to him. “Shirt off. Unless you’re chicken.”

  Seb stopped laughing and arched his eyebrow challengingly. Alexander’s heart pounded hard as Seb let the ball roll off his fingers before he grabbed a hold of the hem of his black t-shirt. Holding a smirk, Seb yanked his shirt over his head and slammed it dramatically to the floor. “Bring it on then!”

  Alexander’s breath caught and he was acutely aware that he was staring, and he didn’t give a damn. Seb’s body was sculptured to perfection. Powerful shoulders tapered to narrow hips.

  His pale skin glistened in the sun like snow. The grooves of his impressive abdominals looked like they had been drawn on with charcoal. He was breathing hard, making his muscles flex and contract. The cold winter’s air speckled his flesh with goose pimples. Suddenly, Seb hugged himself and began bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Bloody hell, it’s brisk.”

  When Alexander found his breath, he laughed and pulled his gaze off Seb’s tight muscles with great effort. Seb was either oblivious to his ogling or didn’t care, he seemed more bothered about the icy chill that was making his exposed nipples peak and the tiny hairs on his arms stand on end. “Get the ball. I need to start moving. Hurry,” Seb rushed through gritted teeth.

  Alexander swept up the ball with ease and began dribbling again. “You just want to score so you can get a look at what I’m packing, don’t you?”

  Seb was smiling as his eyes followed the ball. “It’s only fair.”

  After several attempts, Seb managed to snatch the ball and make it to Alexander’s basket, only for Alexander to smack it from the air as he tried to shoot and score another basket himself.

  “Trousers next!” called Alexander.

  “What about my boots?”

  “Boring.”

  Seb sent him a sour look as he began pulling down his sweatpants, revealing his black boxer shorts underneath. A static humming cut through the suspenseful silence and both Seb and Alexander cocked their heads to the megaphone in the corner of the court.

  “Alexander, please come to my office as soon as possible. Thank you.” Nico’s robotic voice was like nails down a chalkboard. He flicked his eyes to Seb who had pulled his sweatpants back up. Great timing, Nico. Alexander glared at the megaphone.

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Alexander flailed his arms out dramatically.

  “Then why does he want to see you?”

  Alexander sighed in defeat and rubbed his hands through his long hair. “I don’t know. But I guess I’d better go.”

  Chapter 25

  “You can relax, Alexander, you’re not in trouble.” Nico’s voice was irritatingly compassionate as he watched Alexander take a seat at the edge of the sofa facing his desk. Alexander glared at him; his posture stiff as if expecting a punch. He exhaled an emptying breath but his muscles were still coiled like a spring. It wasn’t because he was fearful of why Nico had called him to his office; it was the doctor’s mere presence that made him dig his nails into his thighs.

  “Then why am I here?” asked Alexander after a moment, needing the time to calm himself down so his voice wasn’t laced with venom. He had successfully achieved a tone of weary indifference.

  “I’m calling all of the Cured in. Just to have a little one-to-one session. I’m doing it in alphabetical order. That’s why you’re first.”

  “Oh, and here was me thinking I was special,” said Alexander. “So, what, are you playing psychiatrist now? You know, I’m pretty certain you don’t even have a PhD.”

  “I’m trying to help you, Alexander. Please meet me halfway here,” said Nico, his hands laced together on his desk and his shining grey eyes warm and gentle. It was starting to annoy Alexander that he wasn’t able to get any sort of reaction from him. Usually Alexander had a knack for making people feel awkward, uncomfortable, angry. But not Nico. He seemed to be unflappable. It made Alexander feel like he was disarmed in battle.

  Alexander started to feel less tense and more drained. The sofa was hard and uncomfortable but a part of him wanted to curl up on it and close his eyes.

  “I have a question for you,” he said instead.

  Nico’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “Really?”

  Alexander gulped hard and looked over at Nico through heavy-lidded eyes. “I want to know what happened to the blood whores- the ones that infected us.” He already knew about that one that had infected him. His sister had handled her.

  “Why do you ask?” asked Nico, unconcerned.

  “Answer the question.”

  “They were taken care of.”

  Alexander sensed the dark undertone of Nico’s statement. “You killed them?”

  “All you need to know is that they are not going to infect anyone else. I’m guessing that is why you asked?”

  Alexander nodded. “So, there’ll be no more Cured?”

  “Not yet.”

  Alexander nodded again, slightly more at ease by this new information. He fell silent, his eyes on his lap. The silence stretched uncomfortably long and Alexander could almost feel Nico’s level gaze burning a scorch mark into the top of his head.

  “Go on then,” he snapped. “Ask your questions.”

  “How are you feeling?” asked Nico, his voice soothing and calm like an actual psychiatrist’s.

  “Like Iron Man without his suit.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Powerless but still a hit with the ladies.” He couldn’t help but send the doctor a smirk.

  “So, you’re saying that your vampirism was like a suit of armour to protect you?”

  “I guess I am. But unfortunately, my vampirism didn’t grant me the ability to fly.”

  Nico watched him a moment, not amused but rather intrigued. “It’s a deflection.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your humour,” Nico clarified. “It’s a deflection. You make jokes to distance yourself from what is real.”

  To this, Alexander’s jaw clenched. “Don’t act like I’m a textbook you can so easily read. You don’t know me.”

  “I’m trying to.”

  Alexander’s nostrils flared. “You really want to know why I make jokes?” He met Nico’s gaze, hot and sharp. “It’s because this world is so messed up that sometimes something as natural and simple as a smile or a laugh is the best you can offer someone.” His chest felt tight, as if the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. He looked to the floor.

  “You say this world is messed up,” said Nico in his usual unflappable tone. “How do you mean?”

  Alexander scoffed and looked back up at him, breathing hard now with his nails embedded into the sofa. “Are you serious? Have you not stepped foot out of this obnoxiously oversized house for fourteen years? Although, I guess that wouldn’t surprise me. From what I’ve heard, you seem to let all your minions do your dirty work for you.” Nico just stayed blinking at him as Alexander unleashed his caged fury. “Since the Rage, every known vampire walks around with a target on their back. One false move and it’s over. You live your life waiting for the inevitable, for them to abolish the Equal Rights system and just round us all up – them up,” he winced, “-and sla
ughter them all at once like the fucking Holocaust.” He sank back into the sofa, the sudden outburst depleting almost all of his energy.

  “And I have saved you from that fate now. You are human. You no longer need to fear.”

  Alexander glared at him through his brows. “You are too blind to know what you’ve done to us. You may have cleansed our bodies but you have not cleansed our minds. And without a clear mind, what is the point?” He let out a borderline hysterical cackle. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re playing psychiatrist because we fucking need one. Vampirism isn’t a disease you can treat- it’s a way of life. You can’t cure it and expect our humanity to be lying in wait for us, unscathed - like putting on an outfit you haven’t worn for a century and finding out it still fits perfectly. It doesn’t. It’s creased and torn and misshapen and itchy and it… it doesn’t belong to you anymore.” Alexander fell silent, not knowing why he had let all of that spill out of him with such ease. It was as if Nico had pressed a button to make Alexander lose all control over his own hidden inner thoughts. Maybe Doctor Dipshit was a pretty good psychiatrist after all.

  Alexander looked to his lap, ashamed of letting himself get so vulnerable.

  Finally, after a long silence, Nico spoke. “I didn’t expect the cure to come without problems. I knew there would be some difficulties. That’s why I want to keep you all here a little while, so I can understand the effects and fix what needs fixing.”

  Feeling like he had hit rock bottom, Alexander continued to pour his heart out. “It’s like you’ve taken a knife-” He said in a quaky whisper, allowing tears to build up in his eyes, “-and sliced me down the middle. Gutted me like a fish.” He used shaking hand gestures over his heaving chest. “Everything that I’ve been able to contain is just spilling out and I can’t…” he sobbed unabashedly, his mouth working before his words could make it past the lump in his throat. “I can’t hold it in any longer. I just… I can’t hold it back. You’ve taken that ability from me. The cure- the cure has taken that from me.”

  “Taken what from you, Alexander?”

  Tears were streaming down his face now as he looked down his front, imagining all the memories of his human life spilling out onto the floor like disgusting entrails. “Being able to not… feel. The detachment. I need it.” He bent forwards and dropped his face in his hands, feeling the moisture on his cheeks. “It’s too hard.”

  Alexander openly wept, his shoulders juddering uncontrollably and his stomach muscles clenching to the point of pain. His temples throbbed. His eyes burned. His throat ached. But he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t even aware of Nico’s presence anymore as he sat watching from behind his desk. He felt alone and frightened and cold and desperate. He wanted his sister who had always been his rock. He needed her arms around him and her lips pressed against his forehead. He needed her fingers in his hair, stroking his scalp lazily and tenderly.

  But Varsee wasn’t here and he couldn’t get to her. He feared what she’d do if he ever could. Would she hold him or abandon him?

  “Let me help, Alexander.”

  Nico’s smooth tone made him hiss with surprise. He dropped his hands from his face and peered at the doctor through his hair. “If you want to help. Let me go.”

  Nico’s warm expression turned stoic. “I can’t do that.”

  Alexander laughed, a sound that was brittle and broken and fake. He collapsed back into the corner of the sofa and ran the back of his hand under his dripping nose with a sniff. The pulse in his cheeks was erratic and he knew he must be flushed from his tears but he tried his best to go back to his unnatural state of indifference.

  “Then let’s get back to the session, shall we? What’s next? The inkblot test? Because I’ve done that before. My answers are a bat and two garden gnomes in the Charlie’s Angels pose.”

  Nico’s shoulders slouched and he dropped back into his chair with a look of fatigue. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before throwing a sweeping gesture to the door. “You may go, Alexander.”

  Alexander’s jaw dropped, mock-appalled. “Seriously? I’ve been in here for like ten minutes.”

  “Yes,” Nico sighed. “And you have clearly given me all that you can offer right now. If you are no longer going to be cooperative, I’d rather be spending my time helping someone who is willing to accept it.”

  “Fine.” Alexander pushed himself to his feet. A wave of nausea hit him and silver flakes filled his vision for a moment before he regained his balance and headed to the door. He grabbed the handle before turning back to Nico. “By the way, I’m not accepting your help because it sucks. You haven’t even been able to get me a pair of shoes. My toes feel like they’re going to fall off they’re so cold. Just be honest and tell us that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. At least then we can all be on the same page and all this stupid false hope can be forgotten about. We’re lost causes. In your heart, you know that.”

  Nico studied him, and there was a hint of defiance mixed with fear in his eyes. “There is no such thing as a lost cause, Alexander. I believe there is hope for everyone.”

  “Then you’re a fool.” Alexander yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.

  Alexander was sitting with his knees tucked to his chest in the lounge, a room that he had found while he had been looking for Seb, who had seemed to have vanished into thin air. The huge flat screen T.V that almost took up an entire wall, was off. Instead of channel hopping, Alexander was watching the reflection of the black-haired girl in the blank screen, as if she was Medusa and wasn’t supposed to be looked at directly.

  She was sitting on the sofa adjacent to him. Her movements were sharp and erratic, her hands twitching and her neck snapping from side to side as if she were a robot being rebooted. She was muttering to herself as always and in the silence of the room, Alexander was able to catch some of her conversation.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she was whispering, her thin lips forming a child-like smile. “It’s been so long, I know. Will you stay?... I don’t want them to come back.” She gulped hard and shuddered, looking over her shoulder. “They keep coming back. They say it’s my fault they’re here but I don’t know who they are… No, I didn’t. That wasn’t me. I’m not her anymore.” She pulled up her top lip, showing teeth. “See. That’s not me anymore.” She twitched and cowered, covering her ears. “Leave me alone! Please leave.” She was sobbing now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  Alexander shuddered and looked to the fur rug on the wooden floor.

  There is no such thing as a lost cause, Alexander. I believe there is hope for everyone. How could someone be so naïve? How could Nico look at this girl and see a future for her? Sometimes when he spoke, it was like he was reeling off something he had memorised. Like a script. Doctor Weilm’s script? After all, he was the mastermind behind ‘Project: Revive’, Nico was just his puppet. A puppet too determined for his own good.

  Alexander stayed curled up on the much comfier sofa- a sofa that felt like it was supposed to be sat on and not to just look fancy- and listened as Nico’s voice croaked through the speakers every half an hour to ask for another one of the Cured. Alexander caught each one of their names but ten minutes later they would slip from his mind. The black-haired girl was called and she jerked up like a disjointed marionette. Alexander watched her, not through the T.V anymore but in the flesh. He shuffled deeper into the corner of the sofa, giving her as wide a berth as he could. She continued Golluming out even as she was leaving the room, telling her imaginary friends and foes to hush, hush.

  Now alone again, Alexander went looking for Seb like a lost puppy. He wandered all around the ground floor, finding new rooms everywhere. But no Seb. He went to the pool house and found Sleeve and Mr. Muscle lifting weights. But no Seb. He’d checked the basketball court. But no Seb. Then he wondered if he had gone back to his room and worried his lip at the idea of disturbing him. Maybe he was finally taking a well needed nap.

  As
he made his way back to the mansion, his head bent and eyes on the path, he felt like he had this morning after seeing that weird blur in the corner of the mirror. It was as if something was following him, hiding in the shadows, taunting him just out of reach. He felt like a bow strung too tight, ready to snap at any moment. His heart was crashing in his chest and tears beaded in his eyes at the memory of being without a heartbeat. He longed for that emptiness inside him. The way it had made everything easy and simple. But now his skin itched with the invading wind and his toes tingled like he was experiencing the first signs of Trench Foot all over again.

  He desperately wanted to be out of his own company. When he mounted the three steps up to the patio, heaving and shaking, he blindly rammed right into someone. Alexander jumped back with a gasp and was ready to tumble back down the steps but a hand clutched his wrist, yanking him back upright. Panting, he pushed his wind-swept hair out of his face and gave an involuntary squeal of panic.

  He was face to face with the girl with the chestnut hair. She was smiling at him and there was a brilliance in her brown eyes. “Alexander,” she chirped, still holding onto his wrist.

  Alexander, not Alex. Because she was not Elizabeth. She was Jennifer.

  “Jennifer,” said Alexander, a little cautiously.

  She looked down at her hand still gripping him and quickly let go with a nervous laugh. Alexander watched her face, the way her cheeks flushed and her brown eyes avoided his shyly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Up close, she looked even less like Elizabeth yet her touch had sent his skin tingling as if reacting to something familiar and exciting. And when she released her hold on him, he just felt cold.

  She was wearing the same clothes he was, her t-shirt tight and showing off her feminine figure, and her sweatpants hung low on her hips like Alexander’s, showing off the waistband of her black knickers.