Sanguine

Cornstalker had had a nice breakfast – waffles and fruit salad, with fresh fruit juice – and was heading to the library for a good study session. There was a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips as he walked, his wings neatly cleaned and groomed, his clothes clean and ironed, his hair brushed. In his left hand he carried the notice that had come for him in the mail – he would be inducted into the honor’s society Pelor’s Chosen! He waved cheerily to his friend Richard as he entered the library, once more taking a moment to marvel at the vast shelves full of religious literature from around the world, before realizing that Richard had not waved back; nor, in fact, was Richard smiling. The other boy had black hair and serious grey eyes, wearing loose trousers and a comfortable white blouse, upon which was sewn the school insignia upon the pocket.
“Something wrong?” he asked, a slight frown gracing his forehead.
“Have you been by the nurse’s?” his friend replied, in his rich voice.
“Not today, why?”
“Go look.”
This had Cornstalker concerned. Turning rapidly, he made his way to the hospital wing, where there was a quiet hum that indicated that something bad had occurred. He paused in the doorway, getting the lay of things before moving to ask one of the younger nurses what was going on. Naturally, he didn’t want to bother the more experienced ones that seemed to be needed, nor anyone going to and fro in a hurry, but he had to find out what had happened. He’d never been one to sit by and let things maul his friends, not if he could help it. Still, it came as a shock to him when he saw the body of the younger girl on the bed – she looked dead at first glance. How could a girl be that pale and fragile and still be alive? The Iv tube in her arm indicated that she must be, they’d not waste blood on a dead girl. Still. It wasn’t just the paleness of her skin, it was also the limpness of her hair, the way her muscles were so slack, the hushed tone with which people spoke around her… and the two neat puncture wounds on her neck, seemingly too deep to be possible.
“Vampires” was the one word he picked out of the description as he snapped back to attention, turning to the person he had asked, only to find that, rather than one of the younger nurses, the one giving the explination was none other than the young woman he’d met the week prior, Megara. She looked exhausted – had she slept? Probably not, he chided himself; she was probably here when the victim was brought in. She had a thing against vampires, he remembered – she was always reading and talking about them, always reminding people to wear holy symbols when they visited town. Somehow it didn’t seem so important until now.
“I see your hand healed well.” he said, by way of apology for not listening intently. It did look a lot better; she kept a bandage on it, but surely if it’d gone badly she’d have… well.. he’d never seen an injured hand go THAT badly, not from punching a wall anyway. Silly thing to mention, come to think of it.
“Yeah… you have no idea how tough it is sometimes.”
Cornstalker blinked at that. How tough? Hand injuries? The girl smiles a little at his confusion, explaining herself: “My allergy, I mean. Didn’t you know? I’m allergic to positive energy.”
Allergic to positive energy? Meaning… she couldn’t be magically healed? Now he thought he understood why her hand was still bandaged – even a minor injury would become that much worse without the easy cure spells to lessen the pain and ease shock. And what would happen if she ever got into serious trouble? Humans don’t heal very easily on their own without help from the Gods, after all. What first aid kit didn’t hold a small supply of potions to ease the pain? The shock must have registered on his face because she turned away, looking back down at the girl on the hospital bed.
“..it’s not really so bad. I’ve gotten used to it. ” She sighed, looking down at the girl before them on the bed, sadly. “…There’s talk of her being expelled.”
“…expelled? Why?!” Cornstalker started. Expelled for being attacked and nearly killed by a monster? On what level did that make sense? he got the feeling that there was something to this that Meg was not telling him, as she gazed sadly at the bites on the girl’s neck. Something important.
“They warned her before, that she needed to stop, it was making a bad image, but…” she sighed heavily, doing nothing to alleviate Cornstalker’s confusion.
“..she’s been bitten multiple times? and they’re expelling her because of this?” he sounded angry, even to himself.
“..she volunteered.” Meg kept her voice even as Cornstalker blanched slightly, his mouth hanging open. “They call it a Feeder. Someone who volunteers to be a meal for a vampire.” She shook her head, ruefully. “I’d never heard of it either, but… they found her almost drained in the street. Multiple bites. Third time she’s been in like this.”
Cornstalker couldn’t believe it. Who would purposefully sell their body like a commodity, not even receiving sexual pleasure – did she receive money? He hoped she’d been paid well for the loss of her morals, for the invasion of her privacy, for being food to a fiendish undead creature. He felt a little of the hatred and repulsion he could see in Meg’s brown eyes himself, shuddering a little in horror. This was.. beyond comprehension. This was a nightmare, and it wasn’t even his nightmare.
“We have to… do something.”
“…I know.”