Dawn at Sunrise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE: THE ONE WHO WAS SPARED

He's seen enough.

He might not have seen through the eyes of more than a century year old vampire standing across him, and yet he could proudly declare that he's seen enough.

In this cruel world he lived, he knew that residing with a vampire is safer than with the human.

“How long will you serve me, boss?” the vampire named Every Evangeline asked.

He smiled.

The fire from the candle reflected on his eyes like it used to burn when he was a brat. Decades of his youth flashes before his eyes.

The young ’boss’ stood at the entrance of their mansion. He kept kicking the gravels while he paced back and forth. The moment he heard the door's screeching sound, he raised his head, his eyes glimmer as soon as he saw the woman in a bun and striped of red and white dress.

“Sorry for making you wait, dear,” the woman whispered as she embraced the young man.

He laughed, “Well, should I blame father for keeping you all for himself?”

The woman faked a smile, “Hm, you'll understand your father when you've became one. Well, for now, let's enjoy your day, little boss?”

The kid pouted.

“Mom, stop calling me that.”

“Why though? You're our little boss, the heir to th—”

“Mom, I am Franklin, your child.”

Defeated, she stretched her lips to smile.

They were like a painting of simplicity and peace before an abrupt changed of trajectory from the painter painted them blue; the father.

It was the last scene he could remember of his mom, his father painted chaos into the canvas and called it a masterpiece.

Franklin was a good model.

He lived up to his father's desires and become the person he despise. The role that was given to him was drilled into his mind, it played like a broken record.

Having born as the only child of the mafia boss, he knew that his fate cannot be alter, the day will come that he will be the one leading the organization.

He hates the place.

But his dirtied hands was the only thing that was keeping his mother clean.

“Young master,” the butler started and bow, “Your father has been waiting for you,” he added and opened the door.

“Thank you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian, the butler felt genuine happiness hearing that mere three words from the young master's mouth. He's been serving the family for a decade and it was the first time someone addressed him by his name.

He's the polar opposite of his father, Sebastian thought. Despite how Franklin dance in accordance to his father's choreography, Franklin is different.

“He's a bomb,” Sebastian, the butler declared after closing the door.

He felt the chills down his spine upon seeing the expression of the boss, Franklin's father.

“Did I mess up with something?”

That was the first question that came out of Franklin's mouth. There was no reason for the Mafia Boss to called the Heir when he could've rely an order to his butler. Franklin concluded that for the Boss to summon him must mean he messed up.

“Am I not welcome to call my son over?” he sarcastically asked.

“This is not our home, Señor.”

Franklin stared at the man in front of him. The man lean his back and let out a chuckle.

“How's your mother?”

Franklin gulped but he managed to smile. He pulled the chair across his father's table.

“She's fine.”

“Hm, why don't you visit her? You've been doing everything for the organization you might as well do everything for your dear mother.”

Franklin's smile vanished. He couldn't help but to clench his fists.

He would have taken the suggestion in a positive way, but the man who he's dealing with is his father.

“Okay, father,” he uttered as a sign of his dismissal. He rose up from his seat, “I'll be back in a day.”

His father slowly stretched a smirk as his eyes followed the young man leaving the room.

“He did nothing wrong...” he mumbled and held his head high, staring at the chandelier as it glimmer upon his soul, “He did nothing wrong...and that's the issue,” he declared.

His eyes sparkled like the fireworks showered from behind his windows. His desire for success cannot be measured through the success of his heir. The mafia boss has been twisted since he was little, and the idea of a perfect replacement for his position ticks him off.

“Uh, it's fine,” he assured, pressing his face against the table, letting out a sigh.

His eyes darkened when it fixated on the wall where the photographed of the family was hanging.

“That woman sure gave birth to the ideal son, huh?” he asked, “Too bad, I am not the ideal father.”

He was never an ideal father but never as heartless as an asshole to abandon the woman he accidentally impregnated.

He took them in, gave them the luxury to never even think about leaving him but as little Franklin turned age seven, the Mafia Boss realized that he might as well dispose them.

His idle thoughts was interrupted by Sebastian's voice, he was trying to stopped someone from entering the room but a glare from the woman shut his mouth into surrender.

She then paced towards the table where the Mafia Boss was seating, uncomfortable.

“W-Why are you here?”

This is the second time he felt threatened and it came from the same person. He couldn't breath, as if the oxygen around were being held captive by the woman in front of him.

The woman tilted her head as she stretched a smile.

“I've got a new client,” she answered, “Señor Frances.”

Señor Frances' brows furrowed.

“W-What does it have to do with me? As long as you accomplish the task I gave you, I don't care if you've got more clients... wouldn't that be good?”

The woman's smile became even wider, it became a smirk which made the man, Señor Frances pressed the button under his table

repeatedly, as hard as he can.

The pressing sound became his heartbeat, it's fast and rapid, until it dropped.

“W-Why?” he asked.

The woman raised her blodied hand, holding another hand.

“Why?” she repeated as she dropped the hand and chuckled.

His right hand fell on the floor, blood run through the tiny spaces between each tile.

“I simply work for money, what else?” she answered, “It's the same with you, right?”

Señor Frances sighed.

“Tell me, who hired you this time?”

He couldn't protest, its like his tongue was programmed to utter limited words, no matter how much crowded his mind, his mouth could only respond to submission.

The woman stared at him, intently.

“You already know the answer to that,” she said, “Well, any last words before I chopped off your head? He demanded to bring him your head as proof before paying me. I hate it, it'll be messy but I badly need the money,” she explained as if talking to a toddler.

Señor Frances smiled as he accepted his defeat. There was no way out, he concluded.

After all, he was dealing with a vampire, and it's such a shame he thought he could deal with a vampire.

He watched the woman like the main character in a story trying to deliver the final blow to the villain.

“Wait.”

“What?” irritated, the woman asked.

Señor Frances smiled, “‘I'll see you in hell’, tell him that.”

The woman paused, “I apologize but he won't be joining you for at least, a couple of decades,” she answered before snatching the flickering light left in him.

It was a usual move, human called it : chopping hand as it did chopped the head of the mafia boss in one single strike.

She sighed as she turned her back towards the doorway. Her eyes widened, she couldn't hide the smile as soon as she recognized the person standing.

“Your father is pretty weak for a mafia boss, here!” she said as she threw the head like a basketball.

“Maybe, you're just too strong?” he asked, sarcastically as he watched the head of his father dropped on the floor, “What do you think about my proposal, Miss Every?” he asked, kicking the head back at the vampire.

Miss Every stared at him and smile.

“Sure, Master Fra—”

“Just Franklin,” he corrected which made the vampire laughed.

It was the first time someone interrupted her, and the first time she didn't feel the urge to end its life.

“Okay, Fra—”

Then, she was interrupted again by the butler named Sebastian when he suddenly entered the room.

The vampire and the mere human locked eyes, and as for that instant she wished to end its life.

“Pardon the intrusion but your mother is waiting at the dining table, she wished to eat with the family,” Sebastian informed.

“You will join us, Miss Every,” Franklin commanded, “I read somewhere that vampires prefer blood over man made food, I asked my mother to prepa—”

It was a dream.

The vampire acquired the ability to dream, and for some reason, her dream is on a loop. Seeing the dinner the boss prepared for a mere vampire forced her to daydream.

“You don't like the food, Miss Every?” Franklin asked, “What? You realized blood is better after all?” he added, showing his neck, inviting the vampire to have a bite.

The vampire laughed.

“Please refrain from offering your blood, I'd rather die than taking an old man's blo—”

Franklin laughed.

“Thank you for sparing my life, then,” he uttered, “Well, are you sure about not drinking blood at all? Isn't that a necessity for a vampire to live?”

He knew the vampire for decades and has never seen her consume blood. With their line of business where she was always bathing in blood, he wondered why she has never taken in a sip.

He never saw a vampire other than her, he could only used the books he read as a reference.

“Don't worry, you will never out live me,” Every replied, “I told you all ready, right? I wanted to see the sunrise, and in order to do that I wanted to be human.”

Franklin sighed.

“I don't understand, but sure.”

Every laughed, “Pretty ironic, 'no? Despite saying I wanted to be human, I take lives of human.”

“And that what makes us, human.”

“Right.”