The Parental Permission

 

Slowly, I curled up a bit more.

My legs were laying over something rather than how they were hanging off of Mr. Corso's lap. Letting my hand roam, I felt over something cool, soft, and expansive. Sheets? They felt silky smooth. I pulled them more over my shoulder and remained curled up in a ball for a bit longer.

It took me a moment to realize I felt the silk on my bare shoulder. Not only there, but across my entire naked body. That was enough for me to open my eyes and inspect where I was. I was half-expecting and afraid to find Mr. Corso in bed with me. After what had happened, I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't satisfied with just attacking me.

He wasn't here. It looked as if the bed had been undisturbed until I’d slipped into it and found comfort. From what I could see, I was in a room that had two dressers against the wall and a lot of old decor etched into that wall. All around, that same pattern of decoration, not at all plain, but intricate as a spider’s web. Only it was woven with red and white.

With my eyes adjusting, I realized they were actual cobwebs and the walls were red. That's creepy.

I sat up in bed and raised a hand to my injured shoulder. There was an impression there, like he had taken a vicious bite that savaged me, but I felt no open wound. It was closed. Healed, but certainly marked. For that to happen, it made me wonder if he had some kind of skin-regrowth paste or something like that to fill in the wounds and heat it closed.

Thinking about the wound and that pain it had caused, I recalled him saying I'd feel terrible when I woke up. I didn't. In fact, I felt fine. Not a million bucks, but not at all bad. Just okay. Even though I knew I was very far from being okay.

Looking around again, I tried to spot the khaki vest and skirt, or that white shirt, underwear, shoes, socks, or something I had been wearing when I first came here. Maybe in the dressers? That was possible. It was a little creepy to go walking on a floor like this, seeing that it had webbing on it too, but I didn't see any spiders. So it should be safe for my bare feet.

I slipped out of the covers and almost stood up, but sat there to stare down at myself. Paying attention to the floor, I noticed something funny about myself and couldn't quite place it at first. Was it just my imagination or was I more slender than I had been before? I knew I’d lost blood, and was really thirsty before too, but it would take time for me to get like this. More than mere hours.

How long had I been in here?

Looking around myself, I noted that I wasn't thin, like a skeleton. So not really long. In fact, it looked like I had some subtle cushion going in some places. Like my hips, having enough of a good pinch of skin to tell me they were growing out nice. A good sign that I hadn't become emaciated.

My eyes focused down between my legs for a few moments. Something was off. I didn't really have an idea what it was that I found odd about what I was seeing. Every time I looked and thought about it, I felt like something was wrong, but natural. I closed my eyes to envision what I might be trying to figure out. Still, the image I was trying to picture didn't really match what I was seeing and told me something was wrong.

I shook my head, not knowing what it was.

For now, I ignored it because I was sure that I’d been running on borrowed time. I had no idea if or when Mr. Corso would be coming to check up on me. For all I know, he could be watching me right now. Still, I had to get out of here and getting dressed was a first mission priority for me.

Walking to the dressers, I opened the first drawer to see what it had inside. There was an assortment of underwear of different colors and intricate lace. I grabbed some black lacy high-cut briefs, not really minding what would work with what I would wear. At least, considering the situation, I was in a hurry here. I slipped them up and on.

The drawer below that had bras. For the briefest moment, I was considering what to wear from it until my perception started seeing this as all wrong again. Not wanting to waste time, I skipped the drawer and went for the next. Contemplating what was wrong could happen after I escape.

Next drawer, I found an assortment of undershirts. Again, not caring at all what I wore, I picked the top one out for me to wear. This one was a black button-up V-neck sleeveless tank top. Taking a glance at the sorts of shirts in here, I noted that most were black. I shut the drawer and pulled the tank top over and on myself.

Shaking my head, I didn't bother registering what else I threw on myself. Jeans, fine. Socks, okay. Actually, the bottom drawer had a ton of socks. No idea who all of these clothes belonged to, but there was a huge probability the owner gave consideration to what they wore daily.

Having no idea where I might find shoes, I went with this outfit.

I opened the bedroom door to reveal a hallway. It looked like I was upstairs, judging from the railing across from where I stood. Heading out, I went for the stairs and quickly padded my way down them. It looked like it was night, judging from the windows being completely black.

Not seeing anyone, I went straight for the front door. I only stopped myself from opening it when I saw that the wagon was still blocking the door. Rolling it out of the way, I grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open.

But I didn't go out.

I took one step and felt my legs tremble, straining, resisting to take another step. Grabbing the doorframe, I tried to pull myself forward and out of the front door. In a few seconds, like I was struggling to lift myself up and out of a hole, I managed to throw myself out. I couldn't believe how much effort that had taken.

Breathing heavily, I looked back at the house in wonder at what had happened. It was like I was being drugged, weakened, and nearly incapable of leaving. Now I felt very wrong. Like I shouldn't be here at all. Maybe not like that. More like, I should go back inside?

Shaking my head, to be rid of these confusing thoughts, I got up off of the front lawn and scrambled to be on my feet. Immediately, I took off down the street to create as much distance from this place as possible. I had escaped.

Now what?

I tried to think of where to go from here. That house wasn't my home. I had a home somewhere. I was sure of it. The more I thought about it, the clearer it became and I knew my feet were gradually taking me back there. It didn't take that long either.

In the driveway, I saw my mom's car, but knew my dad was working a night shift and wouldn't be home sometime until the late morning. That would mean the front door was unlocked. Heading up and opening the front door, I wanted to walk in.

Again, that same resistance, but nowhere near as restraining as it had been when I left Mr. Corso's house. Inside, I wandered aimlessly, confused, and having to stop along the wall to recover. Something was disorienting me.

"Max? Close the front door." I heard Mom and listened. Looking back, I did notice the front door still hung open. Hearing my mother's voice was reassuring, even if I didn't feel well. Leaning my hand against the wall, I returned to the front door to close it.

When I was about to shut it, I saw Mr. Corso standing on the front of my porch. He was grinning at me, silently watching, waiting for me, and expecting something of me. I felt it too. Like I was supposed to either walk out and greet him or invite my neighbor inside.

Just like when I’d escaped, I fought it down. My eyes couldn't break from his, but I did manage to shut the door in his face. I heard a laugh on the other side before I turned around and slumped onto the floor with my back pressed to the door. Letting out a shuddering breath, I felt more ill than I ever had before. Even when I was hurting from the attack, this felt worse.

Almost quietly, I heard him tap at the front door.

I reached over my head instinctively, wanting to open the door. I had to grab my arm with my other hand to stop.

Something was very wrong with me. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was in my head. He’d done something to my mind. It made the most sense of why I felt sick.

"Mom!" I cried out while hugging myself. "MOM!" I couldn't control what I was doing for much longer, but maybe my mom could. She could call for help.

Almost instantly, I heard her feet come rapidly from her room to the living room. Then she turned to look where I was and nearly crashed down into me to investigate what was wrong.

"What's wrong? Max? Wha--Hold on." I don't know what she saw, but her eyes had a terrified look in them. She was going for the phone and dialing. I soon heard her speak in a hushed voice to what I could only assume was an operator. Possibly for the hospital? Was I that bad looking?

I had to ask. "What's wrong with me?"

Mom looked over and shook her head. "Don't worry. Everything will be okay. Just give me a-- Hello? Yes..." The rest I couldn't hear when she went back to hushing up. After the phone call, she hung up and grabbed a hold of her jacket. I saw her take out keys and gesture for me to stand up.

I tried to stand and nearly fell over. She reached out and grabbed me under the arm, then helped with supporting me as she opened the front door. Instinctively, I felt both relief and a great fear as I knew who was waiting on the other side.

Mr. Corso stood patiently leaning into a porch beam and smiled when he saw Mom and me. He nodded to my mother and snapped his fingers as she stepped out of the house. I tried to take a step, but my mom made it awkward as she stood stock still.

"Mom?" I tugged on her arm and shoulder to get a reaction. She stared at Mr. Corso, not afraid, angry, or anything at all. It was like she'd become frozen and emotionless.

"Don't worry. I'll take it from here." As soon as he said that, my mom let me go and I felt his hand lay on my shoulder. "Go ahead and get some sleep." I watched Mom turn around.

"NO! Wait Mo--mMF!" His hand closed around my mouth.

"Sshh, you want to wake the neighborhood?" He shook his head at me, amused. For some reason, he was finding this all very entertaining. I gave him an angry push, but he didn't flinch, let alone budge. "Come on. Let's go home."

When he let go of my mouth, I told him, "This is my home."

"No. You live with me, remember?" I shook my head. "Figures." This time, I watched him bring his own hand up to his mouth.

What I saw next was both confusing and horrific. He took a bite into his hand, ripping out a chunk of his own skin, the wound glistening in the bright moonlight. That wasn't the worst part. There was no blood. It was like he’d just removed an adhered wrapper from his hand.

Without warning, he thrust his wounded hand back around my mouth. This time, he shoved the injury against my lips, pressing it, forcing me to take that inside. When his fingers gripped tightly into my jaw, I lost against him with a single muffled cry.

"Suck it up and let's go home." I watched him stare at me patiently. He was waiting for me. Did he really expect me to do that? "Come on. We don't have all night." It took him gripping my jaw until it felt like he could dislodge it for me to obey. In a firm bite, sinking my teeth down into the self-inflicted wound, I began to suckle up whatever came from him.

At first, it was dizzying. I thought it was blood, but it didn't at all taste like that. I knew what my own blood tasted like, with that iron tang to it, and this didn't have any kind of recognizable flavor.

After the first moment, I relaxed. He pulled me up against him and wrapped an arm around me while waiting for me to finish. Personally, I had no idea what it meant to finish. I just knew that was what he expected to happen before we started walking away.

As I swallowed the last drop I could take, I let go of his hand and he ran his thumb over my lips to wipe off the little mess I had. Docile, but aware of what was going on, I walked with him back to his home.

There were questions bubbling up in me, wanting to burst with answers, and I knew it would only be him who could pop them out. I had to wait, though. It was plain that he didn't want to be out and about.

It took a little while for us to walk back to his home. We simply walked, compared to when I’d escaped and run away in a panic. Inside his house, he directed me to the dining room for me to sit in a familiar chair. He took his seat and waited for the questions to come up.

"Wha-what happened?"

"That's a bit broad. Mind narrowing that down for me?"

"Back home--"

"This is home. You don't want to live there anymore and I'm damn certain you felt that." He smiled and I could see that he barely restrained himself from laughing.

"Why? What about my parents? They'll come looking for me."

"I'm working on that, but for now, I'm your parent." I was about to protest, but, "Ah! Don't. You chose me, remember? I was the one, over everyone else, you confided in. Not your parents, teachers, police, no one. You picked me." This time, he did laugh.

In a twisted way, I understood what he said. It was one of the thoughts in me that felt wrong, but natural. As if it was me who was wrong and him that had corrected it. Pointing out to me the mistake I’d made and forcing the solution upon me. Only I couldn't identify what problem he’d solved. I just knew that all the mishaps I’d had were generally being taken care of by him.

"Could you tell me what you did? What is different?"

"For your sanity's sake? No. Believe me, it is best that you remain ignorant of what I've done and to whom." What did he mean by that?

"To whom? My parents?"

"Nonono, I haven't touched them. That was obvious when your mother still recognized you. I will take care of that, but in no way do I intend on hurting them. They're not innocent, but also not guilty. Don't worry about them." That still didn't answer who he meant.

"Who then?"

"Don't worry about it. If you don't remember, that is for the better. It means you can start fresh without fear." He gave the top of my head a pat. "Really, don't worry so much. I know we had a bad start, but I fully intend to take care of your problems. Both of them, starting tomorrow." He laughed again, a bit sinisterly this time. "Anyways, I had no idea how much will you had. It is incredible."

"A-am I being imprisoned here?" Mr. Corso's smile dropped. He took a look around the house, opened his mouth as if to say something, then just shut up. Returning his attention back to me, he shrugged.

"Depends on how you look at it. I am not going to forbid you to invite people over, but I can't have you wandering around and getting lost in the world. Far too much can happen." Invite people? Who would I invite?

"What people would I be inviting here if I never get the chance to meet them?" That made him smile and laugh again.

"This is still a little new to me, but I can make some orders for you to connect with the world." Shrugging again, he got up from the seat to head for the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No. I'm not thirsty." Watching him enter the kitchen, I saw him peek back out at me when I said that.

"Really? Well, I guess that accident worked."

"Accident?"

"I was going to make you a ghoul. I've quite a few of those running around." He shook his head. "Instead, you took my blood in full rather than partially." That really made no sense to me.

I shook my head and said, "What?"

"Hold on, I'm thirsty, if you are not. You have no idea how much of a glutton you really are." He waved his injured hand at me to emphasize that remark. Disappearing back in the kitchen, he took a minute before coming back out with a bottle, and sat, taking a swig directly from it instead of pouring a glass. "Ah, much better... Careful, if I don't have a drink, I'll do to you what you did to me."

"What do you mean?" Rolling his eyes, he waved his hurt hand again. "Oh. Wait, does that mean I'm like you? I won't bleed if I am hurt?"

"Oh, you'll bleed. I'm just so damn old that my blood has coagulated like jello." That made my stomach turn thinking about it. "You're fresh. Which means, very messy if I try tasting you. Hence, bottoms up!" He took another swig of the bottle and set it down on his thigh.

"Just to clarify something. Are we vampires?"

"Ah... You could say that. We don't grow fangs, but we do live forever... Well, at least as far I am aware it is forever. Never got that far to confirm it. Also, blood is a must. Doesn't have to be human blood and not nearly as much as the books or movies portray." He shook the bottle and sloshed it around. "Unless you let a certain someone drain you. Then it has to be human."

I point to the bottle. "Human?" He nods. "From the neighborhood?"

"No. This was mine back when I had more wine than blood running through my veins." He took another swig of the bottle. Suddenly, my eyes widen.

"Did I drink that!?" He choked on the swig and swallowed hastily.

"Ahem, sorry. Ah, well, yeah. I needed something to loosen your tongue and my personal vintage did the trick. Sixteen forty-two, Toulouse. That's where and roughly when I'm from." He offered the bottle to me. "Want a look?" I waved it away. "Okay. It'll be in the kitchen if you are ever curious."

"Curious about what? I've already drank it. A few glasses of it." He shook his head.

"That's tasting the wine in it. As you are now, you'd taste something far different than before your change." There, he said it. I knew about some changes, like the whole vampire thing, but I was sure there were other aspects I was missing.

"Okay."

"Do you have anymore questions?"

"Right now, I think I want to process what I've already learned. Can I ask you again later?"

Shrugging, he said: "Yeah. There’s no problem with that."

"I, um... I'm going to head back to the bedroom--"

"Your room."

"My room and lie down." He nodded, stood, and offered me an arm.

"Here, let me at least accompany you." I took his arm and stood up.

We walked up the stairs and went to my room. I looked around the inside and planned to clean this place up after I rested. This made me wonder what other parts of the house needed to be given care. I knew the yard was heavily neglected. Even the house's exterior was in need of being maintained. Wood rot was a real thing and it amazed me that this house hadn't already begun to collapse.

The door was closing behind me, but paused. "Max?"

Turning away from the webbed walls, I looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"You won't regret this. Even the whole overwhelming 'Living Forever' deal, I'll be there to help you. I won't turn you away. Not anymore." Smiling at him, I nodded.

"Thank you, Andie." He returned the nod and closed the door.

I knew I had recently come from this bed. That had been different. I was unconscious and going through some changes. This time, I intended to rest and relax. Tomorrow, I’d find out more and see where things went from here...