The Crown's Obsession

Around two decades ago in Devon...

In the land of Devon, rain continuously poured down from the sky, and the people who were out a few minutes ago had either gone back to their houses or had taken shelter under trees. But the leaves of the trees weren't strong enough to hold back the water, and people were forced to go to another place to protect them from the rain. The rain had turned the ground wet and muddy, water slipping down the slope like areas to create puddles on the ground. 

And in the middle of the rain, a young man walked, not bothered with the force of the rain that fell on him. His clothes had turned wet, and his shoes filled themselves with water. His dark hair stuck on his forehead and on the sides of his temples. Water dripped down from his face, and his dark red eyes stared ahead of him without blinking. 

The villagers who were in their homes noticed the person walking in the rain and couldn't help themselves from gossiping with each other. The shopkeepers who were closing the shops, looked at the young man and one of them said, 

"Isn't he that whore's son?"

"It's best we don't talk about him or even look at him," said another man. 

"I wonder how he even walks in here as if nothing like that has happened," came another's words. 

The first one who spoke asked, "Do you think she's still available for a-" he stopped talking right away when the young man turned his head in the person's direction. "I am going to close my shop. My wife is waiting for me!" said the person hurriedly before closing the door of his shop. 

Calhoun didn't care about the comments that were passed by the idle villagers whom he didn't know personally and cared to know about. The villagers who had spoken ill about him and his mother believed their words had gone unheard because of the heavy rain, but he heard every word that came out from their mouths. For some reason, compared to the other vampires, he had a better hearing ability than the rest. 

The only reason he wasn't plummeting his fists through the men's faces was because he had agreed with his mother to maintain peace where they lived. 

He made his way through the streets, the rain trying to camouflage him as if it was trying to save a life. Not Calhoun's but the villagers so that they wouldn't utter more words about him or his mother. Because even though he looked tamed in his outward appearance, internally, he was waiting for the right opportunity to drag each and every one of them to their graves. 

Reaching the end of the village near the edge of the forest, Calhoun pushed the door of the house that was isolated from the rest of them. 

"Mother, I am home," announced Calhoun. 

His eyes fell on the bed on which his mother laid as she was sick. It seemed that she was sleeping. The rainy weather was worsening his mother's condition. It had been days since she had caught a fever. He had hoped it was just another fever that would pass, but this one seemed to persist.

He put his hand in his trouser pocket, pulling out the medicine he had safely kept. He had travelled through three villages away from here, speaking to one of the physicians who was a renowned one in the town, who had given him the medicine. 

Going to the kitchen, which was right in front of him, Calhoun looked for the logs of woods and saw they had been exhausted. With a few sticks still in the house, he broke them into pieces before putting them in the fire and heating the water. Pouring the water in the glass, he went to the room where his mother laid. The house they lived in was small.

Bending down, he placed his hand on his mother's shoulder, gently trying to wake her up. 

"Mother?" Calhoun called, and his mother slowly woke up from her sleep. 

"Cal," his mother whispered because of the lack of energy in her body. "You are back," she said, trying to get up, and Calhoun helped her sit on the bed. 

So far, he had brought three physicians so that they could take a look at her, but none of them knew what was wrong with her. Though he didn't show it outwardly, he was worried about her. She was the only family he had.

"Of course, I will always come back," replied Calhoun with a smile on his face. "I brought some medicines for you. The physician said he would come and take a look at you, but for now, this should help in making you feel better."

Calhoun helped her in holding the glass, supporting the bottom of the glass and handing her the white tablet. He waited for her to swallow it, seeing her gulp down the water and then let out a tired sigh. 

Constance stared into her son's eyes that were dark red. It seemed like her son had acquired it from her father and not from Calhoun's father. It was because Laurence's eyes weren't dark red. 

When his mother started to cough, Calhoun patted his mother's back to ease the uneasiness she felt. "I will make something hot for you to eat. You will feel much better after eating."

His mother later ate the porridge he had prepared and went back to rest again. She shivered as if she couldn't handle the weather, and Calhoun pulled another blanket from under the cot, that was his. He spread it on her while sitting next to her until she fell asleep. 

The next day, Calhoun had stepped out of the house as he needed to find a job, but most importantly, something that was nearby the house so that he could check on his mother. But with the nearby villagers who were not willing to offer him work, making the situation hard. 

While he was passing through one of the streets, Calhoun could hear someone getting thrashed. Following the sound, he came to stand in an alley to notice a person around his age being beaten by an older man. 

"How dare you?!" the older man shouted before punching the young man's face, who didn't bother to defend. "I will fucking kill you for sleeping with her!" threatened the man. 

Calhoun noticed it was one of the men, who in the past had commented on his mother. Calhoun had been noticing something for a few years, that there was something more than humans, vampires and weres in this world. It was because some of the people had different appearances, like the two people who were in the alley right now. 

The older man continued to beat the young man, and when the young man noticed someone standing in the alley watching them, the older man followed his gaze, seeing it was the whore's son, Calhoun. 

"What do you think you are doing here? Trying to find customers?" taunted the older man, but Calhoun didn't react. Instead, he walked forward, and the older man glared. 

"Are you?" Calhoun questioned back, stopping his feet from walking further. 

The man looked enraged, and he said, "I heard the whore has fallen sick. It would be good  riddance to have her de-" before more words could come out from the man, Calhoun had raised his hand and punched the man squarely at his jaw to have the older man fall on the ground, hearing something crack. 

Calhoun looked at the older man with his cold eyes while the older man groaned in pain, not understanding how Calhoun, who was younger than him had been able to punch him hard. When Calhoun turned back, ready to walk, he heard the person who was earlier being beaten say,

"You are strong," said the young man, who hadn't stood up from where he had been sitting. He had pulled out his glasses from his pocket that had broken. "I can tell you are like me. Thank you for your help."

Calhoun stared at the person, and he said, "I didn't do it for you."