November 26. Barely a day has passed since Lucien became a vampire... and since he discovered that, for some incomprehensible reason, he is married to four female vampires.
He still can't quite believe it. His head is still full of questions, but now he is sitting in Selene's living room, trying to process what has happened.
Selene calmly explained the organizations mentioned by the maid, Mayla, but every word increased the pressure in Lucien's chest.
First, there is the Inquisition.
An organization created by the Catholic Church that, according to Selene, has changed its name as many times as it has changed its methods for killing vampires and other beings: Iscariot, the Templars, and others that Lucien couldn't remember. All with the same purpose: to hunt down any supernatural creature that breathes... or doesn't.
Then there are the cultists.
A satanic cult. Selene says it as if she were talking about the weather, but the idea of fanatics playing with demonic powers does not reassure Lucien. Apparently, no one knows what they are after. And when a cult has no clear objective... It's worse.
And finally, the most disturbing: MR9.
Selene, despite her 121 years, has only seen them a couple of times and doesn't even fully understand what they are. No one does.
The only clear thing is their symbol. According to Selene, it resembles the emblems used by extremist groups throughout human history... similar enough to send a chill down your spine.
Lucien swallows hard. Being a vampire was complicated enough. But now he also has professional enemies.
He lets out a sigh as he watches with curiosity the sunlight filtering through the window curtain; he wants to test that weakness for a second to see if he has it.
He sighed deeply, looked at the curtain, and first put a finger to test it... but felt nothing; he thought that maybe it was because one finger wasn't enough, so, with nerves and curiosity.
He opened the curtain, letting the warm golden rays caress him, but nothing happened; he felt absolutely nothing.
Selene, who emerges from the back of the house, letting out a sleepy yawn, suddenly opens her eyes wide: "NOOOooo... WHAT?!" Her initial cry of horror, then turning to disbelief.
Lucien's body was bathed in the golden rays of the sun... the most impressive thing was that he hadn't turned to ash!
"That shouldn't be possible." Selene's disbelief was evident; she had lost her composure, and even her eyes began to glow a deep blood red, but she quickly controlled it.
Lucien turns, looks at her, and smiles: "It seems I'm not immune to sunlight," he says nervously.
...
An hour later.
Lucien walked toward the train station. Each step brought him closer to his pig-faced boss, and just thinking about it made him feel more nauseous than the cheap blood from the night before.
He was going to quit. After learning about his filthiness in the sun, his first thought was to leave his damn job.
He took out his old phone and checked the time: it was 7:45 a.m.
Standing at the traffic lights, passersby looked at him curiously. With that aura, he looked like a lost tourist... or a celebrity who had walked onto the wrong red carpet.
"He's quite handsome, could he be a new model from an agency?" whispered an office worker, nudging her friend.
"His skin is so pale... could he be a vampire?" replied the other, adjusting her glasses seriously.
"I wish he were! I wouldn't mind having a forbidden romance with such a handsome vampire. And if it's like those dark romance novels... Kya~!" shouted a schoolgirl as the rest of the group silenced her, laughing hysterically.
Lucien ignored them just as a truck nearly ran over a depressed wage earner.
"Truck-kun? Is it your turn to shine?"
He imagined the truck giving a metallic thumbs-up gesture before sending the poor man to another world.
Suppressing a laugh, he shook his head and continued on his way.
...
When he arrived at the building where he worked, Lucien noticed the name of the company, "Traanglae Shirtwaisth," which, curiously, was similar to that of a company that exploited its employees.
He entered the building with a smile, approached the reception desk, and, with his senses heightened, felt everyone's eyes on him.
"Excuse me, do you need anything?" asked the receptionist with a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Laura, don't you recognize me?" Lucien asked playfully.
She had long black hair, black eyes, a symmetrical face, and a curvy body that couldn't be appreciated while she was sitting. She was approximately 5'7" tall.
Laura was Lucien's only friend at the company. She wasn't arrogant just because of her beauty; her body was also 100% natural. She hadn't had any rhinoplasty or similar surgery, or any other operations.
She looked him up and down, blinked twice... and her jaw nearly dropped.
"Lucien!? It can't be!" Her voice went from surprise to disbelief. "The pale guy who was going to die a virgin from overwork... what the hell happened to you?"
Laura came out from behind the counter and, without asking permission, touched his abs. Her fingers pressed into the rock-hard muscle on his stomach, and her eyes widened. "They're real... You're not wearing some disguise, are you?"
Lucien snorted, crossing his arms. "Woman, are you listening to yourself?"
She clicked her tongue amusedly.
"So you're Lucien. Only you would react like an indignant virgin."
"I'm not an indignant virgin!" he shouted, veins bulging in his forehead.
Laura smiled like a cat that had just caught its prey. "Aha... only a virgin would say that."
The veins began to bulge. She thought about hitting him on the forehead, but held back because she might blow his head off.
"Bleh." Laura stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her seat with all the dignity she could muster after pulling a childish face. "But hey, aren't you a little late? Your shift started at six in the morning." She said it as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.
"Ah, don't worry about that." Lucien smiled. "I'm here to quit this shitty company."
The happiness in his voice was so pure that it sounded like that of a hostage returning to his family after ten years in a basement.
"Congratulations!" Laura applauded as if she had won the lottery. "I'm glad you're leaving this shitty company... too bad I can't do the same." Her smile suddenly faded, and she sighed.
Lucien frowned, intrigued. "And why not? Don't tell me you have Stockholm syndrome at work."
She looked at him thoughtfully and then motioned for him to come closer. "Come closer."
He leaned in
And she said, her voice reduced to a whisper, "Because they pay me six thousand dollars a month."
Lucien froze.
'Six thousand dollars!? Just for sitting and smiling at the front desk!? And me... killing myself twelve hours a day for a measly five hundred dollars a month? What kind of crap is this?!'
Laura patted her on the shoulder, smiling. "Sorry, honey, not all of us were born to suffer like characters in a Turkish soap opera."
"Go to hell!" He gave him the middle finger and headed for the elevator, annoyed, muttering about how unfair the world can be and more.
"Hahaha..." Laura laughed amusedly; she always enjoyed teasing him. "Oh, right, I forgot to ask you how you got so muscular... Meh, whatever."
Inside the elevator, the smile on Lucien's face faded until he reached his floor.
When the doors opened, there was his damn boss: Scott Radien, with his eternal, greasy smile. He was short and fat, and sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse. The shiny bald spot in the middle of his greasy hair and his brown eyes, full of lust, completed the portrait of someone repulsive.
Lucien approached; his smile slowly faded. Standing in front of him, he said nothing.
"Who let you in? This area is off-limits to civilians," Scott muttered, wiping his sweaty forehead as he looked at the pale, muscular man who seemed like someone else.
"Pig, don't you recognize me?" He smiled, showing his fangs.
"Pig?" Scott repeated. His expression darkened.
"Yes, Pig." His smile widened. "I've come to quit, you bastard."
"Damn parasite..." Scott clenched his fists, red with rage. "I see: you've gained a little muscle, and you think you're no longer my slave."
Lucien watched him silently, but his eyes began to glow bright red. The air around him became stifling, as if the predator had just marked his prey.
His fangs peeked out from under his lips in a crooked smile.
Scott swallowed hard, not understanding why a simple employee made him tremble as if he were devouring him with his gaze.
Clap.
Lucien clapped his hands, and the threatening aura disappeared, as if it had never existed. "Let's go to your office so you can accept my resignation," he said with a smile.
Scott nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead again; that smile only made him shudder.
Once in the office, Lucien calmly took a seat; the smile never left his face.
"What do you want?" Scott asked from his desk, trying to sound firm, even though his voice was trembling.
"Pig, are you deaf? I said I came to quit this damn company." Lucien's mood worsened, and his eyes began to glow an ominous red, but he quickly controlled himself.
Being in front of his boss is making it too difficult for him to remain rational. Because of the person in front of him, he suffered too much.
He endured all this only because he needed the money to pay his mother's medical bills.
Scott swallowed hard; sweat soaked his shirt as he tried to appear in control. He moved his hands awkwardly and began to write his resignation letter.
"Why do you want to leave the company?" he asked, his voice breaking, like someone feeling their way around the mouth of a hungry wolf.
"Oh~! Why do I want to quit?" She let out a dry laugh and squeezed the armrest so hard that she crushed it between her fists.
She stood up and walked over to the desk.
"Shitty pay for inhumane hours... a disgusting pig who exploits me with overtime while he goes to strip clubs. Need more reasons to quit?"
Scott opened his mouth but made no sound. Then Lucien's crimson eyes flashed brightly.
Fangs peeked out from beneath his smile.
Lucien grabbed Scott by the neck, lifting him slightly from his seat and whispering calmly, "Don't worry, Scott... your signature isn't the only thing I'll be taking. So get ready, pig."
Scott's eyes widened. Panic coursed through his veins, and a damp, yellowish heat began to well up between his legs; shame and terror mingled in a single gesture: Scott had wet himself!
The acrid smell filled the office for a split second.
"Tsk," Lucien said, smacking his lips in disgust, and exclaimed, "Finish my resignation letter."