I'm not sure how many people are finding this story. Not many to judge by the emails. Sad, because this is one of my favorites. Ah, well. As always please try to donate a little something to Nifty as a thank you to them for giving authors like me a place for our work to be seen. If you happen to like that work, then I'd ask you to please drop me a line and let me know. rwxxx13@yahoo.com

Chapter Three

It turned out that running down a highway at sixty or seventy miles an hour wasn't at all good for your clothes. By the time dawn was threatening, Rene was still over a hundred miles from New Orleans, and his new jeans were threadbare tatters from the knees up on the inside of his legs. His new tennis shoes were in similar shape, hanging off his feet. Off in the treeline, fifty feet from a highway which was showing a decent amount of traffic at 6am, Rene kicked off the shoes, and stepped out of the jeans. He was left in just a pair of gray boxer-briefs, which themselves were ruined all along the inside, his penis and balls dangling in empty space. Disgusted, he ripped them off as well, and naked from the waist down, he slipped further into the forest.

He began to dig, watching the sky, but not needing to. His body knew when the sun was coming. Sleeping in the ground wasn't his favorite thing. It made him feel truly dead, although he'd done it many times over the last few years. His sense of self had come back to him though, and he hated having to revert to something so animalistic. There was no choice, though, as he had no time to find better shelter. He snuggled down into the shallow grave, then scooped the dirt over himself, lamenting the waste of a good shower as he felt the dirt sliding between his legs, into the cleft of his ass. Before he covered himself completely, he had the bright idea of at least taking off his shirt and stuffing it in the backpack. Naked, he gave himself to the earth.

Rene woke precisely as the sun dipped below the horizon. He thrust himself up out of the dirt, then reached down to work out the backpack. He looked down at himself, disgusted to see he was once again covered in dirt. He brushed himself off as best he could, using the remaining bit of the right leg of his tattered jeans as a sort of dry washcloth. He wasn't clean, but he was at least cleaner. Not wanting to ruin more clothes, Rene pulled the backpack up on his shoulders and began running again.

A bit over two hours brought him to the outskirts of New Orleans. He could have run faster, but this early in the evening he couldn't chance commuters watching a pale, naked boy race down the highway at inhuman speeds. Going back to his adopted home was taking a chance, he knew, but he was determined to do it right this time. He would feed only as much as he had to, leaving no bodies behind, a whisper soon forgotten, with no rumors to make it back to the shadowy underworld of vampire society.

He went off I10 into Laplace, sneaking through the town until he reached the Mississippi. There on the shore he washed himself as best he could, and put on clothes again. They made him feel almost human. He just wished he had shoes. He headed back out to I10 then, stopping at a Pilot truck stop where he was able to easily get a ride from a trucker heading into New Orleans. The man wanted him desperately, and he was happy to take the fat man's blood while the man got to enjoy sucking Rene's small cock and drinking down his energizing emission.

East of the airport, Rene easily talked the man into going into a Walmart Supercenter and getting him a pair of size six tennis shoes. The little vampire was happy to snuggle his feet into them, not having owned new shoes in years. He felt like he could jump ten feet. Heck, maybe he could. He'd have to remember to try.

*

Turned out he could. Turned out he could do any number of things; things even Matheus hadn't told him about. He'd been in New Orleans for nearly four years now. It was only May, but in November he'd be nineteen. He felt different inside, but of course he still looked the same outside. He had never again lost himself in that feral state, but his life was a lonely and solitary one, although that was a fact that he was still just coming to realize.

As he left Kurt's home, he headed south toward the river accompanied by the singing of cicadas. There was a Walmart Supercenter there, where he knew he could get some jeans. He didn't worry about anyone there recognizing him from previous visits over the past few years. His looks were certainly memorable, but places like that had a high turnover, and Rene visited only infrequently.

The little vampire reached the parking lot and stood in the darkness right on the edge of the overhead lights. Moving into the bright lights toward the front doors felt wrong. Rene was a creature of darkness and shadows. Bright fluorescents always made him feel uneasy. They also made quite evident the paleness of his yellow hair, and the alabaster cast of his skin. He didn't normally look unusually white, although he found he grew paler and paler the longer he went without feeding. Still, there was no mistaking the anemic look of his skin. Normally. Tonight, flush with Kurt's blood, he looked like a boy who didn't spend a lot of time outdoors, a normal enough thing in this time of rabid fear of kidnappers and child molesters. There was nothing he could do about the color of his hair though, which, untouched by the sun in seven years, was a washed-out, almost colorless yellow.

The greeter, an elderly man, barely acknowledged him as he walked into the store. Rene oriented himself, remembering the layout of the store, and the large sign which read BOYS confirmed his memory. Making his way past the jewelry counters, past bored middle-aged women, he entered the Boys department. He began looking for jeans.

“Hey,” said a voice from behind him. Rene turned to find a girl, perhaps nineteen, with close-cropped black hair with purple tips, and multiple earrings in each lobe. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“Wow,” she said. “Ain't you a cutie?”

“Hi,” Rene smiled, thinking that this girl was his own age, although nobody would believe it. He liked the way her modest breasts pushed against her too-tight blue Walmart polo shirt. Her name tag read Camilla.

“You're out late,” she said, then made a show of looking around. “Your mom or dad with you?”

Rene could sense her interest, the way her eyes danced over his body. It was a bit unusual for a girl her age to find him sexually desirable so quickly, before he could show them what a sensual being he could be, awakening them to the thought and the possibilities. This girl hungered for him right away. Rene was intrigued.

“She sent me to get some jeans,” Rene lied. “She works late.”

“Well, I can help ya, darlin',” she said. She made no effort to hide she was looking him over, then she asked, “What size are you?”

Rene knew he was a size twelve, but he didn't tell her that, just shrugging instead and saying, “I guess I don't know.”

Camilla seemed pleased by the answer. Looking around, she nibbled her lower lip and then turned back to him, holding out her hand. Rene took it. “Come with me,” she smiled. Arriving at the fitting rooms, she grabbed a tape measure from a stand and took a final look around. “We're not supposed to let people use the fitting rooms at night,” she said conspiratorially, pulling keys off her belt and opening one.

The girl ushered him inside, then carefully shut and locked the door behind her. Rene was glad to see it wasn't one of the half-door types. He figured it was probably protection against kids getting peeked at by pervs. Speaking of pervs...

Camilla sat on the little bench facing him. She made a show of unwinding the plastic tape measure. Looking up at him, she licked her lips and gave him a nervous smile. “I never even asked you your name,” she said.

“Rene,” he answered, not bothering yet to empty his mind, interested to see how this played out without the glamour. He knew she would fall under almost instantly. The more they wanted him, the easier they succumbed.

“That's such a pretty name,” she breathed. “For such a pretty boy.” Her face twisted abashedly, and she said, “Sorry, I meant handsome.”

“I don't mind if you think I'm pretty,” Rene said softly.

“You really are,” the girl breathed. “I love your hair. I've never seen hair that color.”

“I've never seen hair your color,” Rene smiled.

Camilla grinned and lightly smacked his stomach, her hand lingering just a bit too long. She bit her lip. “So... Rene,” she began nervously, her eyes flitting to his and then away, to and away, “if I'm going to get a good measurement, I'm gonna need you to take these off,” she said, reaching out to lightly caress the outside of his left leg. Then she caught his eyes, “Is that okay?”

“Should I take my shirt off, too?” he asked. “It's pretty big.”

“That'd be a good idea,” she breathed, then stared as Rene peeled the Jurassic Park shirt up and off. He hung it on a hook while the girl drank in his body. “You've got great muscles,” she said, her hand once again reaching out to lightly caress his bare stomach, before remembering herself and pulling back.

“Thanks,” Rene said. Then, remembering his earlier conversation with Kurt, he said, “I play soccer.”

“I can tell,” she said. Then she glanced downward. “I bet you've got great legs.”

Teasing, as he unbuttoned his jeans, he said, “My coach says I do.” Then he lowered the zipper and began to push his jeans downward, revealing the Flash underwear he'd taken from Kurt. He was suddenly glad he wasn't wearing the dingy grayish pair he'd had on for the last few months.

“The Flash,” Camilla smiled, eyes dancing as she stared at his lightning bolt covered crotch. “I love the Flash,” she said. “Do you watch the show?”

“Sure,” Rene lied as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. He hadn't been aware there was a show. He hadn't watched television in years. Thinking about the months wearing the same stretched-out ratty briefs, and the tiny room he was living in, he began to wonder if he'd gone from one bad life to another.

“Your legs are great,” Camilla murmured, her eyes never leaving his crotch.

Rene thought about taking off his colorful briefs, but figured that might be taking things a bit fast if he wanted to avoid glamouring the girl. Instead, he said, “So, how big am I?”

The double entendre wasn't lost on the girl, but he doubted she thought it was intentional on his part. “Let's find out,” she said brightly, finally tearing her eyes away from the front of his briefs.

She reached around him, her face inches from his stomach, and adjusted the tape measure around his waist, just below his bellybutton. She brought the ends together in the front. “Twenty-five and a half,” she smiled, then winked and said, “We'll call it twenty-six.”

She lowered the tape in the back, and Rene could feel it whispering over his ass. “Now the hips,” she said. This time she brought the ends together closer to his left hip, and Rene quickly realized why, as the tape was just tickling the head of his penis through the thin briefs.

“Rene, have you ever had your inseam measured?” Camilla asked, letting the tape fall from around his hips.

Rene remembered when he was ten, getting fitted for a tuxedo for his Aunt Becky's wedding. He remembered the shock as the obviously gay man snugged his fingers up against Rene's tiny scrotum. “Once,” he answered.

“Okay,” the girl smiled. Then she winked. “I didn't wanna shock you.”

“It's okay,” he assured her.

She reached down, putting one end of the tape against the ground, then slowly drew it upward, the back of her hand tracing along his inner leg. He could hear and see her rapid heartbeat, the more rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened. She gave him one last look, as if for permission, but her eyes flicked away before she could see whether he would give it or not. Instead, she gently nuzzled her fingers up against his testicles.

“Twenty-six,” she breathed, looking at the tape but making no move to relocate her fingers. Long seconds passed before the girl finally realized what she was doing and snatched her fingers away. She began to nervously roll the tape back into a coil.

It was too late for Rene. His penis was already growing. Within moments he was lewdly stretching the lightning bolt symbol with his straining, boyish erection. Camilla noticed it almost immediately and her hands stilled, no longer rolling the tape, simply sitting and staring.

Rene practiced lines in his head. Are you sure you measured everything was promptly discarded. Too crass. Could you measure this, was also quickly conceived and rejected. In the end, he went for what he hoped was a good mixture of naivete and a virginal attempt at seduction. Putting a little nervous tremor into his voice, Rene said, “Are you sure you got a good measurement? I... I could take these off, too.” He hooked his thumbs into either side of his yellow waistband.

Camilla looked up at him, obviously a bit shocked. Then her eyes dropped back to his bulging crotch. Back to his eyes, quickly measuring, testing, thoughts racing behind her eyes. Her eyes flicked to the closed door nervously. He could feel her excitement, the smell of her. It made him even harder. “Maybe I could do your hips again,” she said faintly, swallowing nervous excitement. “Without them.”

Rene didn't hesitate, quickly skinning his briefs downward, his little erection swaying as he kicked them off his feet. Camilla's eyes were wide and staring.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. She tore her eyes away from his cock long enough to glance at his eyes, then quickly flicked them back to his dick. “You don't have any hair,” she said, awed. Back to his eyes, blushing. “I mean... I knew some boys... I figured...” she blushed prettily. “I'm just...” she giggled. “I don't know why, but it's such a turn-on,” she finally said.

Rene glanced to his left, seeing the both of them in the full length mirror there. He stood, his pert asscheeks taut, his muscled stomach flat and leading down to a lean, hairless groin. His four-inch erection stood straight up, bouncing with his excitement, the helmet-shaped head flaring and pointing back just the tiniest bit toward his groin. With Kurt's blood still suffusing his body, his skin was only slightly pale, his dime-sized nipples stiff and almost pink.

“You're so beautiful,” Camilla sighed, her voice a bit raspy.

Rene wanted her, but he wanted answers first. He was curious about her. He could simply ask, but he had the feeling that the questions he would ask wouldn't engender ready answers. So he softly spoke her name. “Camilla.”

She looked up into his blue eyes, eyes that were just as crystalline and sparkling as they'd been when he was alive. His mind was a void, and the tiniest thrust of his will completely rolled her. He saw the haze across her vision, and he smiled.

“You like boys,” he said. It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. “How long have you known?”

“Not long,” she answered dreamily.

“A month?” he asked. “A year?”

She licked her lips, thinking, her eyes lost in his. “A few months,” she said.

“What prompted that?”

“Christian,” she said.

“Who's Christian?”

“My little brother,” she answered.

Interesting, he thought. “Tell me about it.”

“He's twelve,” she said. Her eyes lowered again so that she was once again staring at his stiff penis. She licked her lips. “A few months ago, I came home early. I was working second shift back then. I was supposed to be working, but they'd overbooked the schedule and Mike sent me home.” Her eyes drifted as she thought back.

“My mom doesn't get off work till six. It was only about four. I called out to Christian, but he didn't answer. I went upstairs to change out of my uniform, and his bedroom door was open. He had earbuds in, so he didn't hear me, and his eyes were shut.”

She tore her gaze away from his penis again, meeting his eyes, as if seeking approval. Rene nodded for her to continue. “He was naked,” she said, her hands drifting unconsciously up to cup her breasts. Rene could see that her nipples were hard. “He was... it... he was hard,” she said. “Like you.” She licked her lips. “He was jacking off. I don't know why, but he was just so beautiful. I'd never seen him like that before. You know... like... sexually.”

“Then what happened?”

“I just watched. For a minute or so. His hips were... you know, starting to move, and I knew he must have been pretty close to... you know... and I got nervous he would see me. I wanted to stay and watch so bad. I'd never been so turned... excited.”

“So you left?”

She nodded. “I went to my room. I couldn't help myself. I... I did it, too. Thinking about him. I could hear him when he came, his little gasp.” She blushed. “After I... finished, I got dressed again and left my room. Christian was dressed by then, sitting on his bed with his iPad. He was surprised to see me, and that's when he realized I must have walked by his door, and when I realized that he'd realized it.” She smiled ruefully. “I should have gone downstairs and made a bunch of noise or something, but I didn't think about it 'cause I was... you know... horny.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Well,” and she glanced up at him a bit guiltily, “kinda nothing.” She continued. “That night, about one in the morning, I snuck into his room. I was so scared. I knelt by his bed, and pulled back his sheet. He wears these pajama bottoms to bed, but I knew he didn't wear underwear because I'd see him in the morning, you know, pitching a tent. It had been happening for a few months I guess. I used to tease him about it. Me and my mom. But I didn't think it was funny anymore. It had been cute before, but after that... Anyway, I unsnapped his pj's, and looked at him. It was... soft, but I took it in my fingers and soon it was hard. It was so beautiful. I wanted to... suck it,” she said nervously. “So bad. I didn't though. I was afraid he would wake up. I hurried back to my room. I didn't even snap his pj's back up again. In the morning, he came down for breakfast and he... it, was hard again. Poking against his pj's. He gave me this look, like he knew. I didn't tease him about it after that. I just... I try not to look, but I think he knows I can't help it. A couple of weeks ago I even saw him completely naked in the hall. He'd just gotten out of the shower and... he never even tried to cover himself, just said 'Hi, Cam', stiff as a board and just walked into his room. I know it's wrong. He's my brother. I can't... you know, but I just can't stop thinking about it. And not just him. All boys now. Christian, my cousin Dylan, boys I just see on the street or on tv. I even moved to night shift because all I wanted to do was follow cute boys around the store.”

“And now you have,” he smiled. Camilla returned the smile nervously. “You can suck me, if you like,” he said.

“I can?” she asked, voice full of hope and longing. “I won't... get in trouble?”

“No trouble, I promise,” Rene told her.

With a sob of joy, Camilla thrust her face into Rene's crotch. She just pressed herself there for long moments, her nose nuzzling against the hairless base of his cock, her cheek pressed against his throbbing hardness. She placed a tender kiss against his scrotum, then poked her tongue into it. She was moaning, humming, lost in the joy of the moment. Slowly her hands crept up the back of his legs, along his hairless calves, the back of his knees, his smooth thighs, until she was gently squeezing his ass.

Camilla moved a bit so that she could lick at the little vampire's hanging balls. Gently, she sucked one into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the grape-sized nugget, then she carefully took the second one into her mouth as well. She suckled him while her nose continue to nestle against the base of his cock, smelling him, drinking in the fresh shower scent of him.

Rene continued to watch in the mirror as the nineteen-year-old sucked gently at his balls, his sac stretched. The girl was bouncing lightly as she drank him in, and he could sense her desire. As he watched, she released his shining balls from her mouth, pulled back for a moment to stare at his crotch, and then she leaned in and slid her tongue firmly and wetly along the length of his dick. Once again she sobbed in pleasure.

She looked up at him then, in wonder. “How can you be so beautiful?” she asked. Rene smiled down at her.

Camilla hooked a finger around the base of Rene's small cock, her palm pressing against his balls as she held the little rod steady, and then she almost reverently slid her lips over the immature cockhead, her eyes never leaving his. She slowly took more and more of him, the head of his cock sliding against the roof of her mouth, further and further back, inch after slender inch, until her red-painted lips pressed against the hairless base of him and the tip of his cock tickled at the entrance to her throat.

The girl began to suck at him, light suction as she drew her lips upward. She played her tongue in the sensitive spot beneath his glans, grinning around his boyish member when he groaned. Then she swallowed him again. Up again, then down, establishing a rhythm, her hands eagerly squeezing his pert little ass.

Rene felt his eyes glowing with excitement. Knowing she was under, he made no effort to hide his sharp, tiny fangs, allowing them to slide into place, watching her eyes grow wide as his tongue played over them sexily. He began to thrust lightly, his hips moving, gently fucking his cock into her mouth.

“Do you like that?” he asked. “Do you like my little boy cock in your mouth?”

Camilla pulled back to speak, releasing him. “It's beautiful. It's the most perfect thing ever.” She grinned and teasingly licked him.

“Take off your clothes,” Rene ordered.

Camilla stood and immediately pulled her shirt up over her head. She was wearing a lacy black bra. She kicked off comfortable walking shoes, then quickly skinned down her jeans to reveal matching panties. She unhooked her bra and shrugged her shoulders, pulling it off, revealing small, pale breasts tipped with boyish nipples. Her hips wiggled as she pushed her panties down. She had just a thin strip of dark hair, perhaps two-and-a-half inches long and less than an inch thick.

The girl saw him looking, looked down at herself and back up at him, smiling shyly. “Do you think I'm pretty?”

“You're beautiful,” the young vampire assured her.

Rene could see the girl was wet, could smell her sex, overpowering in the small cubicle. With no need to hide his nature, he reached out and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her feet off the ground. Snarling his lust, he turned and put her back to the wall.

“Put your legs around me,” he said, and she eagerly did so.

Pinned against the wall as she was, Rene was able to free his right hand, reaching down to grab his cock as he lowered her, quickly finding her center. The girl gasped as he entered her, all four of his throbbing inches sliding into her at once.

“Uh...,” she gasped. “It's... uh... it's in me... oh, Rene. Oh fuck... fuck it... f-fuck me!”

As wet as she was, and as horny as he was, he didn't bother with preliminaries. He simply grabbed her beneath her ass and began to drive himself into her, hard and fast, his little ass a literal blur, pounding his small cock into her instantly abused pussy, the smacking of their flesh an almost constant noise, too close together to be discerned as individual sounds. Camilla's mouth moved, gasping, trying to find words. She instantly came around him, her pussy gripping him tightly, rippling, increasing the incredible friction. She began to shake, unable to stop cumming as his cock brought her again and again, and again; one orgasm on top of another so that it was impossible to know where one ended and another began.

For two minutes straight, with enough thrusts of his cock to simulate an hour of normal fucking, Rene pounded into her teen cunt. Then he stepped back, easily supporting her, and twisted her so that in a split second she was left kneeling on the ground, her face against the dirty carpeted floor. He gripped her hips, sliding his little cock home again, and then stood there between her legs, her knees inches off the ground as he began to pound her again.

Pussies were a marvel, Rene mused as his skinny hips worked at incredible speed. She was as wet as ever, providing a perfect home for his small cock, and while she was much too into the moment just then to feel it, he knew she would be raw and sore afterwards if he didn't do something about it. For another minute he continued to fuck her though, her gasps for air at the power of his thrusts made it difficult for her to catch her breath and filled the room. He wondered if anyone out there suspected anything, but he didn't see any auras nearby and figured they were safe.

Finally, feeling himself getting close, Rene slid out of her, bending down to lift and turn her dizzyingly, and then he thrust his hard cock into her surprised mouth. She instinctively clamped her lips down around him, and he allowed her to suck at her own speed, which was unconsciously rapid compared to before. He gently held her head as he felt his little balls churning, and then he stiffened and shook as he shot his thin streams of bloody boycum into her mouth.

The girl drank him down eagerly, her eyes growing bright as his vampiric blood began to flow through her. She came again then, shuddering on the floor as she continued to suck at his cock. Rene was always interested in seeing how his blood affected humans. Some, like Kurt, were simply overwhelmed and became dazed. Others instantly slept. Some became incredibly energized. Some, like Camilla, just got even more turned on than they'd been before.

The girl redoubled her efforts on his cock, sobbing with ecstasy as her body shook. Knowing that his blood was currently healing any damage he'd caused between her legs, and that it would continue to do so for a bit, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back. He fell between her legs, and his tiny fangs instantly sank into her femoral artery. She gasped, shaking again, her pussy convulsing inches from his face.

Rene only took a small amount of blood. He'd already drunk his fill earlier, but he wanted to taste the girl. He lapped lightly at the tiny puncture marks, closing them, then slid his tongue up along her slit, tasting her there as well. Between his legs, his cock remained stiff, and he considered fucking her again, but he decided he'd had enough fun for one night, and he still had shopping to do.

Camilla kept grabbing at his cock as she dressed. She continued talking about how beautiful it was. She wanted to take pictures of him with her phone, which he allowed, but only as long as she didn't capture his face. She took picture after picture of his hard cock from different angles, even numerous ones with her mouth on him, licking and sucking. He was tempted to allow her to bring him again, but the tiny spurt of blood he'd given her before was more than enough and more would be... unpredictable.

Afterwards, she insisted on dressing him, lovingly sliding his briefs up his legs, carefully situating them into place on his hips, adjusting his softening little penis just so. Then she dressed herself, growing excited when he mentioned that he needed help shopping. Some new underwear perhaps. Finally leaving the fitting room, unobserved to the best of his knowledge, Camilla eagerly picked out briefs for him, finding the ones in which she thought he would look his cutest. She begged him to model some for her, but Rene knew where that would lead.

Finally the boy vampire left the store with two full bags of clothing, none of which he paid for, and whispered instructions to Camilla that she could remember what they'd done, but she'd remember him only as a normal boy. She'd never seen fangs, or had her blood taken, or tasted his. He also promised to visit her again, but he wasn't ready in his mind to commit himself in such a way. Usually he moved on to new prey, very rarely revisiting them.

Rene headed up Saint Andrews street, passing through the sliver of Boettner Park and then on to Chestnut. He was wearing brand-new jeans, and knew a few blocks at high speed wouldn't do any noticeable damage, so he was a pale blur as he sped along the quiet streets, unseen by the very few people out and about on a Thursday at midnight. Turning left on Chestnut, he went a block before he had to hop a fence and race through the soccer field behind Trinity Episcopal School, as the city planners had for some reason decided to have the school and church divide the street.

From there, it was only another two blocks to the decaying mansion he called home. He slipped around the side, easily leaped up to the wide windowsill on the second floor with the swinging board, then slipped in and under the board, stopping its swinging so it hung undisturbed, looking just like all the other boarded up windows.

Rene carried his packages down the hall past the long strips of peeling wallpaper, up the crumbling staircase and then down another hall to his secret door. He carefully moved the shelf and false wall from his hidey-hole.

Inside his little room, Rene set the bags down along the wall and then just stood there. In the room were his bare, stained, twin-sized mattress, a pile of used paperback books, and two little piles of clothes, less clothing than was currently in his bags. He thought how nice it might be to have a little dresser to put his things in, but wondered how he'd get it through the second-story window, as well as the problem of people seeing a twelve-year-old boy carrying a dresser alone down the street.

Rene laid down on his mattress, staring up at the water-stained wooden ceiling. He smelled the mold and mildew all around him, and suddenly he was back in that little town south of Shreveport, in a stranger's home, washing off the mold that was growing on his own filthy skin. The boy, or young man actually, found himself thinking about his life.

After Shreveport, it was like he'd rediscovered his humanity. The lessons Matheus had taught him, not just about history and geography and the like, but about how to embrace each moment of life, to savor the dark gift he'd been given, had all come back to him then, albeit slowly. Coming back to New Orleans had felt like a second chance, an opportunity for renewal, but lying in that tiny, dark room, aware of the decay all around him, he suddenly wondered if he'd ever truly left behind the thing he'd become after Matheus was destroyed.

The question he was left with after pondering it all for awhile was, what could he do about it? Matheus had owned a grand mansion, filled with antique furniture, expensive art, and curios from around the world and throughout history. Each room was a marvel, carefully curated and decorated, but completely unlived in by its occupants. Matheus and Rene occupied the huge, luxuriously appointed third floor, dotted around the perimeter with false windows, its only entrance a steel-lined door at the top of a staircase which was cleverly disguised to look like part of a large mural stretching along the hallway.

Matheus had had money though. Many bank accounts under many assumed identities, with teams of lawyers to help manage it all. Rene had perhaps four thousand dollars, mostly in small bills, stuffed into a child's backpack he'd taken from the boy Michael all those years ago. He wasn't sure what the answer might be, but he decided he'd be thinking about it.