Disclaimers: This is a work of speculative amateur non-profit fiction. No infringement is meant on the copyrites of Anne Rice or her publishers. It is only based upon a writer's imagination... and a twist of reality.
Warnings: None at the moment. This is, of course, just a Prologue.
Spoilers: None. Consider this happens somewhere in the VC.

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Pain.

Unbearable pain.

The boy looked ahead into the darkness of the alleyway. How lonely he feels. How cold he feels. No emotions clouded his inner-self. Just emptiness and one single truth of what his bleak future will hold for him. Indeed, there was no future for him at all. This he had known for sure as he lay alone, cold and naked in this dark alleyway... He is going to die. And he felt nothing about it.

Nothing.

He wanted to get up and walked away from this frightening place. But he could not do so. Here he lay still. Nearby, human waste littered near the walls that seemed to surround the boy. Sounds of flies buzzing around the boy scared him even more. The smell was unbearable for a normal human being to stand. It was horrible. Simply horrible!

And the blood kept on flowing out from the open wound. His thighs and legs were soaked with blood. And he could do nothing but bear the pain that was now plaguing him. Haunting his frail body. He wanted to scream. He wished he could scream. But he could not, for he was mute. The only thing he could do was to open his mouth and let out a quiet cry... and nothing else.

Destined to die a horrible death. Destined to die a degrading death. Destined to just slip away...

Part 2

Colombo is quite an interesting city at night. Lights illuminated Sri Lanka's capital city with the brightness of daylight. In other words, the lights were too blinding for one's eyes. Santino looked around him with vague interest written on his face. His penetrating black eyes hidden behind a black shade as he glanced all around him. Covering his eyes from the bright fluorescent light that had been aligned vertically to a post at the roadside stall, directly in front of him.

He turned away from the baleful fluorescent light and towards the view in front of him. He watched the varied movements of the mortals in front of him. The youthfulness of night emanated on the glowing tan of their skin. He loved the mere sight they presented to him. He perceived with interest that Ceylonese that littered the streets tonight were the usual standard group of people -- young and beautiful, healthy and handsome youths. Beautiful specimens indeed. Simply beautiful...

He turned his attention back to his companion. The one who was responsible for this whole trip was reading the local English-language newspaper. He did not notice the glare he had received from his Italian friend though, for he was too absorbed in reading the “World News” section. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed up tight. Yes, he was in deep concentration indeed.

It was only when Santino gave him a mental slap did Eric finally came to his senses that Santino was giving him a scowl. He raised an eyebrow, puzzled by what Santino might want to remonstrate about this time.

: This place is getting too crowded. Let's get out of here. :

He said as he took off his shade and squinted his eyes involuntarily at the blinding rays of light from the fluorescent lamp. Eric twitched his mouth in a crooked smile. Clearly, he looked quite annoyed.

: I was just about to read the new fashion craze in Japan... :
: I don't care Eric! Either you're coming back with me to the hotel or I'm going back alone. :

They both stared at each other without batting an eye. It was like a never-ending duel between them the way the staring had gone to being a bit too offensive. This continued for a while until Eric sighed and shook his head in defeat.

"Fine. We'll go back now. Satisfied?"

Santino smiled a fiendishly as he sent an image of what they might do for the rest of the evening if Eric intended on not reading the damn newspaper. He grinned as he watch a tinge of pink on Eric's cheek when he had received the image. Quickly, they got up and after paying for the drinks that they have never really drunk from anyway, left the roadside stall and went back to their hotel.

Tonight, they had decided to walk back to the hotel instead of hiring a taxicab to drive them there. Eric said something about learning the people's way of living here in Sri Lanka, particularly in Colombo, by walking around and watching them up close and personal. Santino came out with a more logical reasoning though. They needed to feed and the only way they could do this is to walk and snatched the damned soul off the street and drinks the life-blood out of them.

Besides, it is always much more exciting and not to mention practical this way then to just order the prostitutes from the streets to come to their hotel rooms. It would be too much like ordering a pizza. That, and the fact that they would have to go all through the unnecessary trouble of disposing off the body without the hotel authorities to find out about it.

They walk together into the dark part of Colombo where the slums beckoned felons of any sort of crimes to dwell there. The danger of being killed at knifepoint here is even higher than in the States as the laws that binds the community in Colombo is not officially acted upon here in the dark part of the capital. But then again, nobody cares about these laws because they have been rarely actualized their use in this community.

A sad fact, of course. The crimes and felonies committed in every dark corner in this dark part of town have become a norm in every man and woman who had lived all their lives here. To be safe is a blessing enough for the frightened ones. Rather dwell in silence than have their throats slit from ear to ear or have their guts tore off in front of their eyes by those who have their own selfish importance in the community.

It is safe to say that they do not need monsters or vampires or aliens from outer space to scare them out of their wits. The ‘wolves’ among them could do just fine in spreading the fear and chaos in their dreary souls.

And pretty soon, they all came out of the dark recesses of the alleyways. Like black smokes with overwhelming stench emanating from every crevices of their frame. Wielding knives and, to some extend, guns as they confronted the two vampires. Santino looked at them, bored at watching the same event over and over again for he already knew the end result of this little charade. Eric looked calm though he was obviously annoyed as well at this proceeding. Ah, those unfortunate damned souls...

It did not take them long to bring down all those men with knives and guns and taking their fills on these sinned men. Santino brushed his midnight strands away from his eyes and looked at Eric who was just about to finish drinking the blood from the last of these crooks.

The shade of his skin had gone softer and more human by the time Eric had finished with his. Santino felt another type of hunger rising inside him as Eric came to stand next to him. Unspoken words veiled between them as Santino reached for Eric and claimed his lips forcefully. Always the one to dominate a situation. To be in control. And he exercised this well as he dominates Eric in this one kiss alone to which Eric readily yielded to the younger vampire's control as it got intense, giving resistance once or twice.

Just when Eric felt he was about to give in, Santino pulled back and that devious smile came back again. Santino was enjoying this power control too much and Eric was only too happy to give that mandate to him. Santino’s lustrous black eyes only give out one instruction, which was expressed more eloquently than any other medium of communications existed. ‘Home.’ His eyes commanded and Eric nodded readily.

Before they turned back to leave the scene of murder behind them, Eric took one look at all the four bodies lying on the ground. The night grew still as the bodies burst into flames before their eyes. They turned, leaving four bonfires behind in their wake.

Part 3

In the silent dark hidden alley, he lay completely still as he heard distant shouts of "Fire!"

What could he do? Run away? The pain had numbed him from waist down. He could not move his legs or even willed his tiny little toes to twitch. No response at all. But the blood had stopped flowing out from the open wound. He noticed just that. The blood on his thighs and legs had dried up in the night's heat.

But he was still cold. And alone. No one bothered to look for him. No one cares whether he lives or not. No one even knows if he ever existed. Just another face in the crowd. Just another orphan to add to the bulging waistline of the country's population. As if they have nothing to worry about but him. No. No one cares if he lives or not. He will just be another unknown statistic of this brutal crime.

He could not close his eyes. He tried to but each time he did, horrifying images of the past came back with a vengeance and it tore his memory off like bullets on a thin piece of paper. Thin line of tears wetted his cheeks as he felt his end nearing. No one will ever know what he had gone through. No one will even knew these barbaric acts existed. But he continued to pray nonetheless.

And in the distant, sounds from the firemen's truck came to shut the shouting off.

Part 4

*'...'* --> Thoughts in Tamil
*"..."* --> Spoken in Tamil
:*...*: --> Telepathically communicating in Tamil

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He tensed as they both neared a dark passage in the inner part of the slum. The smell was distinctive enough to make them both stopped walking and looked at each other.

"Blood."

Eric muttered as Santino scanned the area. His eyes widen as he took of into the dark abyss that was the passageway into the deeper part of the slum, leaving a stunned Eric behind.

The first thing that welcomed him inside this darkness was the enervating stench of human wastes and rotting garbage disposals. Covering his face with his sleeve, he walked ahead towards the position of the person he had perceived in this area.

The image that greeted his onyx eyes stopped him from walking even further. A boy no older than 10 years old lay on the dirty floor, covered in nothing but his own blood. Alone, naked and in obvious pain. Another present stood by him; Eric came and stopped at the sight before him. Eric watched this horrific view silently. They have seen the horrors of World War I and World War II, but nothing prepared them for this atrocity that had been displayed before them in this modern day.

In a silent gesture, Santino took of his velvet coat and covered the boy, sparing him the last dignity the boy will have before he dies. The boy looked quietly at the two unknown men before him.

*'Foreigners.' *

He thought. And they were beautiful. Very beautiful. Like angels...

His eyes widen as he felt Santino's hands on his body, trying to wrap the coat around the boy's body. The boy shakes his head violently as tears sprang forth.

*'Not this again. Please, not this again!'*

His mind screamed as his eyes darted wildly at the two men in front of him. Eric caught the screaming inside the boy's head and sat beside the boy, cupping his face and gently talked to him in Tamil.

*"We're not going to hurt you little one. We're only trying to help you."*

He said softly, as his hand brushed the boy's tousled hair away from his eyes. The boy calmed down a little, though he was still too tensed to relax after the memories of his horrible ordeal came back to him again that night. Santino placed the boy in a more comfortable position. Experience taught him not to move the boy around, as the bleeding would get too serious to contain.

The boy was quiet during the whole time, even when he was frantically trying to wrestle himself out of Santino's grasp. Santino noted this absent-mindedly. The young one looked cautiously at the two men in front of him. Wondering what they will do to him. Are they...?

*"You've misunderstood us, little one. We're not going to hurt you. Don't be afraid."*

Santino tried to pacify him this time. The boy looked on. But this time, the cautious look he gave them withered away into a sad one. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His tears were now apparent as he implored the two vampires.

It was clear to see that the boy was in obvious agony by the looks of his battered body. Especially the lower part of his anatomy. Eric unconsciously griped Santino's arm as he gazed at the abused rectum of the boy's lower part of the body. An ugly sight of his anal that had been tore open without mercy. A distinctive sign of one whom had been raped repeatedly. The blood had stopped flowing but the damage was evident. He can no longer be saved.

Santino touched the boy's face; his jet-black eyes regarded the young mortal. Slightly turning his head at Eric, the latter one slowly nodded his head. It was too late. The boy had suffered enough. It was time to help release him from the pain of this realm of the living. It was time for the unfortunate boy to sleep.

Kissing the boy's forehead softly and then gently brushing his hair in a manner of what a father would do to his child, he laid his lips on the young Ceylonese's neck. Where the blood flows slowly but surely, his cold lips touched the dark skin of the young one. The boy looked at Eric who sat there next to this beautiful dark angel, watching all this with nothing of that crazed interest on his somewhat ethereal face. The man with the brown eyes looked rather mournfully to him. And that was when he heard a voice in his head.

: *We are sorry. We cannot do much for you. The only thing we can do now is to deliver you away from this cruel world. We hope you could forgive us...* :

The voice had said. The boy smiled a small wistful smile. An indication that the two of them have been forgiven. He was ready for it. Long before any of this would happen to him. Life on the streets tends to make people a bit satirical about reality. The boy knew from the very start that if you were born on the streets, you will live on the streets and you will die on the streets... But, death is inevitable here in the slums. Few could make it out alive and successful at the same time. Unfortunately, he does not belong in that triumphant group of survivors...

The boy knew he had fallen. He came tumbling down like a mirror crashed on the floor. And like the millions of shards caused by the mirror's breaking, his life can no longer be pieced up again. There was no use for it. His life has already been patterned this way since the time he had been born into this world.

A quick penetration and the red blood of the young mortal flowed into Santino's mouth. The taste of the blood was intoxicating as usual, but there was no eroticism in it. Pure, innocent blood of a child flowed into his vein... and that was when the images of horrors began.

Swirls of past images imbedded inside this boy's memory surge into him with such force that he nearly stopped drinking the blood. Draining the life-essence of this young mortal. But he continued on and soon, the blurred images came to life and that was when he contrived what had happened to this boy. The suffering he had felt that had been brought forth by a simple meeting with a man in a white suit...

Part 5

Story in Italic denotes the boy's flashback.

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The boy looked carefully at the white man in front of him. It was not usual for him to have a foreigner like this man to talk to him in such a nice and polite manner. For all he knew, this man could be up to no good. But who was he to judge?

He watched him with mistrust apparent in his dark brown eyes. The white man, he noted, wore a white expensive-looking suit and he was holding a long cane. Beautifully elaborated cane made out of the elephant's ivory tusk. And the man was smiling at him.

"What is your name boy?"

He asked in English. The boy looked at the Man In White dumbly. What was the man trying to say to him? It was then that the Man In White's assistant translated his question to the boy.

The boy shakes his head, making crude sign languages that he could not talk. That he was mute. The Man In White's assistant groaned as he told his boss that this particular boy is mute. The Man In White seemed undeterred by this fact. In fact, he smiled at this knowledge. He looked at the other boys that surrounded this boy and said something to his assistant. The assistant then asked the boys around him.

*"What is the boy's name?"*

The boy's friends around him looked at each other, unsure of what to say for the moment until one of the boys, a tall boy who looked like the leader of the ragtag group of boys came forward.

*"His name is Rajoo!"*

He informed and the boy in question saw the man's assistant translated it to English to his employer. The Man In White grinned. His eyes never leaving Rajoo. Studying him up and down quietly as the grin grew predatory. He stretched out his hand to Rajoo, offering him something much akin to a precious chance. The Man In White said something to his assistant and he in return conveyed it to Rajoo in Tamil.

*"Mr. McDuggan wants you to come with him to his house. He wants to show you something."*

Rajoo turned and did some sign language to his friends so that they could convey it to Mr. McDuggan's assistant. Again, it was the leader who spoke up for Rajoo.

*"He wants to know what it is. He wants to know what the man wanted to show him."*
*"Stupid boy! If Mr. McDuggan says that he wants you to come to his house, then you MUST come to his house. It is an honor to be invited into Mr. McDuggan's house you fool! My advice is you accept his invitation."*

Mr. McDuggan said something else to his assistant.

*"He says that he likes you and he wants to adopt you. But you must come to his house first or you might as well live your life on the streets forever. Take this from me kid, this is a chance of a lifetime! Take it or leave it."*

The assistant said to him gruffly. Rajoo gripped his shirt in a tight grasp as he contemplated whether he should or should not follow this Mr. McDuggan. It was too good to be true and he was quite skeptical about the whole thing. But... if he was to ignore this invitation, he will forever mourn the loss of this one-time opportunity that had been passed up to him. His friends shouted their supports to him as he regarded this cautiously.

Finally, a resolution came into mind. Rajoo looked determinedly at Mr. McDuggan and what seemed to be a long time of watching the Man In White in front of him, he nodded. Mr. McDuggan's predatory smile became more apparent as the boy took hold of his outstretched hand and climbed into the car.