The First Delay
1590 Words
Kael did not return to the hospital the following night. For Mara, that should not have mattered.
People disappeared all the time. Especially in cities like Jakarta, where strangers crossed paths briefly before dissolving back into traffic, deadlines, and exhaustion. Most human interactions lasted only as long as convenience allowed.
Still, around two in the morning, she caught herself glancing toward the convenience store entrance every few minutes. So annoying. She hated realizing that she had started expecting someone.
“You’re staring at the door again.”
Mara looked up immediately. One of the nurses stood near the coffee machine holding instant noodles with the exhausted expression shared by all hospital staff after midnight.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m waiting for caffeine.”
“With emotional commitment?”
Mara rolled her eyes while the nurse laughed quietly before leaving. The convenience store felt emptier tonight. Too quiet.
Rain tapped softly against the windows while fluorescent lights reflected across polished floors. Somewhere near the refrigerators, a machine beeped every few seconds with irritating consistency.
Mara looked back toward the entrance again before immediately regretting it. Ridiculous. She barely knew the man. All she really had were: suspiciously good cheekbones, deeply concerning eye contact, and the energy of someone who had witnessed several historical tragedies personally.
Yet somehow, the absence still felt noticeable. Which probably meant she was more sleep-deprived than she thought.
________________________
Across the city, Kael stood alone inside his apartment bathroom staring at blood running slowly down his side. The knife wound stretched across his ribs in a thin red line.
Too slow. Healing should have been immediate. Instead, the skin remained open several seconds before finally beginning to close. Several seconds. That was enough.
Kael pressed trembling fingers against the edge of the sink while cold realization settled heavily through him. The idea of the Softening kept appear on his mind. Ancient vampires spoke about it rarely, usually like superstition shared between creatures old enough to fear memory itself.
It was a gradual return of suppressed humanity. Heightened emotional response. Sensory fluctuation. Biological instability. Back to mortality.
Most dismissed the stories as myth because almost no vampires survived long enough to witness it directly. The ones who did rarely lasted afterward.
Kael stared at his reflection. For centuries, his appearance never changed. Now uncertainty existed beneath his skin. And uncertainty terrified immortals more than death ever could.
He did not notice Adrian standing outside the penthouse entrance until several minutes later. The younger vampire looked uneasy immediately upon entering.
“You disappeared,” Adrian said.
Kael closed the apartment door behind him. “You tracked me.”
“You’re not exactly difficult to find.”
Good answer. Older vampires developed reputations whether they wanted them or not. Adrian glanced toward the blood staining Kael’s shirt. Then his expression changed instantly.
“Oh.”
Kael said nothing. The silence confirmed enough already.
“You’re really softening,” Adrian whispered.
Kael removed the ruined shirt calmly before tossing it aside. “Yes.”
The younger vampire stared openly now, caught somewhere between fascination and fear. "I thought it was juat a folklore.”
“So did I.”
Adrian hesitated. “What happens now?”
Kael moved toward the kitchen in silence before opening the hidden refrigeration drawer beneath the counter. Blood bags rested neatly inside. Orderly. Clinical. Controlled. Necessary. Nothing more.
“I don’t know,” Kael answered finally. The honesty unsettled Adrian more than anger would have. Because older vampires were supposed to understand things. That was how they survived, with well knowledge, control, discipline.
If Kael did not know what was happening, then perhaps nobody did. Adrian stayed longer than expected. Mostly because fear made younger vampires curious.
“What does it feel like?” he asked quietly.
Kael leaned against the kitchen counter while drinking. “Feels wrong.”
“That’s not very descriptive.”
“It’s accurate.”
The warmth from the blood settled slower beneath his skin tonight. Another bad sign. Kael closed his eyes briefly.
“My senses fluctuate now,” he explained. “Some things feel sharper. Others feel... human again.”
“Human how?”
Kael considered the question carefully. “Taste,” he answered. “Temperature. Emotion.”
Adrian frowned. "That doesn’t sound terrible.”
Kael looked at him calmly. “It is for us.”
Because vampires survived by becoming less human over time. Empathy dulled. Attachment weakened. Instinct replaced softness.
The parasite adapted the body toward survival efficiency. Or at least it was supposed to. Yet recently, Kael found himself noticing warmth again.
The heat of coffee cups. The taste of broth. The sound of laughter lingering longer than it should. Mara.
The thought arrived immediately. Annoyingly. Adrian studied him carefully.
“This started after the woman, didn’t it?”
Kael’s gaze sharpened instantly. “You’re observant.”
“You smell different after seeing her.”
Silence. Then, “Be quite, Adrian.”
The younger vampire immediately straightened. Fear flickered across his expression again. Good.
“You think attachment caused this?” Adrian asked more carefully.
Kael looked toward the city lights beyond the windows. “I think emotional instability accelerated it.”
Which was somehow worse. Because it meant Mara was becoming dangerous to him without even realizing it.
___________________
The following night, Kael still found himself driving toward the hospital anyway. Of course he did. The realization irritated him enough that he nearly turned around twice before finally parking beneath the familiar fluorescent lights.
The convenience store looked exactly the same.
Warm light. Cheap coffee. Exhausted people trying to survive another night. But the moment Kael entered, Mara looked up immediately.
“There you are.”
The words landed strangely hard. Not dramatic. Not overly emotional. Just instinctive. As though his return had mattered.
Kael stopped briefly near the entrance. “You sound relieved.”
“I was starting to think you got arrested.”
“For what?”
“Crimes maybe.”
Kael almost smiled despite himself. He sat across from her automatically. Mara studied him more carefully now. Then her expression shifted slightly. “You look tired.”
Here we go again with Mara. Humans were not supposed to notice these things. Kael reached for the coffee she pushed toward him. “I’ve been busy.”
“That’s suspiciously vague.”
“It’s intentionally vague.”
Mara narrowed her eyes slightly. “You know, if you were normal, I’d assume you secretly work for the government.”
“And because I’m not normal?”
“I assume you escaped from a gothic novel.”
Kael actually laughed softly this time. Mara immediately pointed at him. “There! See? You can behave like a human being.”
The words struck deeper than she intended. Human.
Kael looked down at the coffee between his hands. Warm. Too warm. Lately, he could feel heat again. The realization still terrified him.
“You disappeared again,” Mara said quietly.
Kael blinked once. “You notice that often.”
“Because you keep doing it.”
Rain continued softly outside while hospital lights reflected across wet pavement. For several moments neither spoke. Strangely, the silence felt comfortable.
That frightened Kael more than tension ever could. Comfort led to attachment naturally. And attachment eventually became grief.
“You know what I think?” Mara asked suddenly.
“That’s rarely reassuring.”
“I think,” she continued, ignoring him completely, “you spend too much time alone.”
The observation landed too accurately. Kael leaned back slightly in his chair. “Based on?”
“You look surprised every time someone talks to you nicely.”
Silence. Mara’s expression softened almost immediately afterward.
“Oh.”
Kael looked away toward the rain-streaked windows. Three centuries ago, someone else used to say similar things to him.
His younger sister. Before illness. Before hunger. Before immortality turned memory into fragments instead of people.
The ache beneath his ribs tightened unexpectedly. Not hunger. Something far worse. Mara’s voice softened carefully. “Hey.”
Kael blinked once.
“You left again.”
“I’m here.”
“Not completely.”
The honesty in her tone unsettled him. Because she was beginning to see pieces of him other humans overlooked instinctively. And part of him was beginning to enjoy being seen anyway.
____________
The attack happened less than an hour before sunrise.
Kael sensed them before he saw them. Three vampires. Young. Hungry. Reckless.
Their scent lingered heavily inside an abandoned parking structure connected to one of the illegal blood-smuggling routes he had been investigating for weeks.
Kael moved silently through the shadows. The first vampire attacked without warning. Amateur. Kael caught his wrist instantly before slamming him hard enough into concrete to crack bone.
The second lunged from behind. Steel flashed beneath fluorescent lights. Pain burned sharply across Kael’s ribs as the knife sliced through flesh.
And for half a second, he froze. Because the wound did not heal immediately. Blood spread slowly beneath his shirt. Warm blood. Humanly warm.
The younger vampires noticed instantly. Fear flickered across their expressions. “You see that?” one whispered.
Another stepped backward immediately. “He’s softening.”
The word echoed through the parking structure like a curse. Kael’s expression darkened instantly.
The first vampire fled. Then the second. Then the third. All disappearing before sunrise touched the horizon. Kael remained alone afterward beside concrete stained with his own blood. Breathing unevenly. Cold. For the first time in centuries, truly cold.
- Writer
