Some New Additions​

It was supposed to be a completely normal shift for Henry. Looking at the cracked ice and the boy laying on the side of the lake, Henry was starting to think differently. With a speed that he never knew he had Henry bounded over to the edge of the ice, where the boy laid.

As the freshly lain snow crumpled underneath leather boots, Henry finally reached the boy. Looking at him closer a single thought ran through his head.

He's...he's dead. Thought Henry as his visage slowly shifted in horror.

The boy's body was soaking wet and unnaturally pale. One could even think that he hasn't seen a day of sunlight in his entire life. Looking down at where he stood the groundskeeper could see his coal-colored hair was swirled backward. Almost like someone had brushed it or messed with it recently.

The only other thing that really stuck out on the boy was a small black book that sat on his chest. The book itself looked to be made out of some type of weird leather. The kid was grasping it tightly with his left hand while the only words being visible on the front were etched in some type of alien-looking language.

Hieroglyphs? He thought while looking down at the little black book.

All of a sudden, the boy's hand twitched followed by him letting out a low groan in his sleep. A hopeful smile came onto the groundskeepers' face as he leaned down towards the boy while muttering, "Come on. You better be still kicking kid or so help me God!"

Just as Henry's hand touched the kid's snow-kissed skin, the groundskeeper felt a bone-chilling cold similar to the air from the previous night. A few thoughts flashed through Henry's mind before he decided to try and get him out of the snow at least.

Leaning down to pull the boy out of the snowbank, he started to have some more doubts as to the boy's liveliness. A gnarled hand met wet cloth as Henry pulled the youngster upright with a mighty tug.

Instinctively, Liam's body forced itself awake as he came into view of an elderly man dressed in thick overalls. The man looked to be in the sunset years of his life with his thinned, white hair. Like the hand pulling on Liam's arm, the rest of his skin was just a gnarled with age. Liam's brain started to slowly turn back on as he jumped to his feet knocking the poor man backward.

Panicked brown eyes searched the park for any sign of the woman from before followed by a noticeable drop towards the downed man in front of them.

Liam felt the short burst of adrenaline leave his body before he let out a slow draw of breath. Surprisingly, it didn't expel any steam into the cold morning air. Henry looked back up to the kid from where he sat ass down in the snow then chuckled good naturally.

"Ha, I guess that answers that then!" cheered Henry.

Henry brought one leg over another as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet. Having seen what he did, Liam gulped down some saliva then quietly blurted, "Sorry, uh...I gotta go!"

Two bushy eyebrows furrowed as Liam turned tail and sprinted out towards the nearby gate. Behind him, the groundskeeper took a few laborious steps towards him and yelled, "Wait Laddie, you gotta get s-" Liam couldn't hear any more of it as he ran past the metal gate into the busy streets of New York.

-West Avenue Two Blocks from Liam's House-​

Liam's sprint finally came to an end as he leaned down, putting both of his hands on his knees in the middle of the street. Labored breaths traveled out of his mouth as Liam brought part of the crowd to a stop.

A middle-aged man abruptly stopped his broad strides with an angry look marring his features. His scowl turned a little vicious as he looked at what was in front of him. A kid. A fucking kid. He thought.

The man pulled down his designer suit's tie, opened his mouth, and growled "Get the hell out of the way! I got places to be!"

Liam stopped his panting to look up at who just yelled at him; a few things escaped his mind as he mindless walked closer to the edge of the street and away from the rude person. Not thinking much about it Liam tried to get a bearing on where he was.

After a short walk and finding a helpful green sign (see street saying saying 'West Avenue'), Liam started a mindless drone towards the only place he could think of to get some type of help. At the time he didn't notice but the bone-chilling cold that seemed to be driving everyone around him into a quick pace didn't affect him much at all.

Sneakers impacted cold concrete as Liam looked down at what was gripped in his palm. Slowly but surely he brought the thing up to his face. His eyebrows scrunched as he finally gained sight of the small black book.

A book? He thought. One second passed before he continued with, I didn't even notice.

Curiously Liam turned the book around to its front cover as he continued on with his mindless trudge towards his house. The front of the book had large winding symbols that seemed to stretch on for two different lines.

One of his fingers traced the outlandish lettering as Liam let out an audible, "Hmmm..."

The symbols almost seemed to sway as Liam continued to stare at them. The one farthest to the left swayed outwards as an English parallel formed from each consecutive symbol. Liam's eyes widened as the title of the book slowly started to reveal itself.

From the back of his mind, a voice called out, declaring The dialect of change, an interesting find. (1)

Liam did his best to ignore it like always. In the past at one point, he tried to talk to it but that only ended up making the situation worse, much worse.

One tense second passed then the words finally became fully legible to Liam's eyes. The now thick black scrawl read, 'The Book of Daedra' in modern-day English. Almost immediately Liam's eyebrows scrunched up as he whispered, "What in the hell is going on..." under his breath.

Trying his best to navigate while flipping open the book, Liam took a peek inside. Curiosity is a killer but he sure as hell isn't a cat. The weathered cover opened to large blocks of text underneath a mystical drawing.

On the first page was a woman, no a statue of a woman. The statue was made of a gray stone that had a sharp contrast when compared to the snowy expanse behind it. The woman depicted almost seemed to be looking down upon the reader as large birds flew around the crown of her head.

In her left hand, she looked to be holding some type of sickle. A crescent moon? Thought Liam. While in the statue's other hand there was some type of eight-pointed object held high into the sky. One of the kris shaped points was broken off at the tip.

Looking down to the hastily written scrawl below Liam read the name 'Azura, whose sphere is-' before an image was pushed to the forefront of his mind.

He saw the almost lifelike visage of a gray-skinned, pointy-eared woman with glowing purple eyes before it quickly faded leaving him alone with the book once again. Alarmed, Liam hurriedly shut the book with a small snap.

I-I just need to go home. He thought in disbelief.

Slowly but surely he made his way through the final two blocks before he came up on his street. Up and to his left was a small green sign the read, 'Grove Street' in big white letters on a green background. Letting out a sigh of relief, Liam started to walk down a familiar sidewalk while looking at a brick house squashed in between two others.

It didn't look like much for some people but just owning your own property in New York was ridiculous in the first place. Liam's father always said things about how he got this house due to some deal with a local bank but Liam really didn't understand much about it.

The house itself was two stories tall with a red-tiled roof that matched the coloring of the inlaid bricks which made up the walls. The front door was put directly in the middle of the street-facing wall while a small porch connected to some stairs lead down to the street.

Minding the small gap between the short stack of stairs and the street, Liam started his walk up to the door. There was a small glass screen door outside that had the words 'Davis Residence' printed in large glossy letters.

Bringing one hand up to the screen door Liam turned the handle and pulled. As the screen door unhinged Liam let out a sigh of relief. Maybe they won't notice. He thought.

Liam pulled the screen door towards himself trying to be as quiet as possible. Almost immediately, he heard some sounds from inside the house. The brick and mortar blocked most of it but from where Liam was it could only be described as frantic yelling.

Inside the home, one Olivia Davis stood with her hands on her hips; the woman's face was scrunched up in a mixture of fear and anger. She had dirty blonde hair that went flowed all the way down to her hips and a light blue dress that seemed too homey for where they lived. If you were to look at her you could see the years were slowly getting to her through small wrinkles and laugh lines, but despite being well over thirty she still looked great.

Liam's mother brought one of her hands off of her hips and slammed it down onto a nearby table then yelled, "What do you mean you don't know?!"

Across the room sat Carter Davis, a middle-aged man with scruffy black hair. His facial features were sharper when compared to his wife's but he still had some of his youthful flare, at least he liked to think so. In his left hand was a steaming cup of coffee while in his right was a black tie.

Liam's father put the cup down on their kitchen table and started to mess with his tie. After securing it in place, he responded with, "I said I don't know! I got a call from the school this morning, but he's just nowhere to found."

Olivia ruffled her hair in exasperation then worried, "What if...what if he got lost?"

"What if he's hurt..." she continued with a growing look of fear on her face.

The look of terror reached it's crescendo as she frantically fretted, "What if my baby's dead!"

Why do I gotta deal with this before work? Thought Carter as he finished up tying his tie. Leaning forward to grab his cup, Liam's father took a large sip of the French-Vanilla flavored coffee in the cup. He let out a long sigh before replying with, "I'll report it...just do me a favor please and don't panic."

Liam's mother looked at the ceiling for a moment and let out a small hum. As she brought her eyes back down she quietly whimpered, "I...I just don't know what to do. I talked to Sam and he sounded worried. He said that he didn't see him at all after Liam got called down." (2)

Carter walked over to his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulder then told her, "Honey, don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll show up at some point; he should be fine. Just think about something positive; he's turning twelve soon."

A few footsteps tried to sneak by in the middle of their conversation to no avail. The main door to the Davis residence stood open as Liam's feet stopped dead in their tracks. His mouth drew itself open as two pairs of eyes landed on his body.

Uh, oh. Thought Liam.

From the kitchen, Liam's mother pushed Carter's hands off of her then dashed into the hallway where Liam stood. Breathing heavily Olivia's eyes stared down at her son with an almost distraught gaze. Three solid seconds of silence followed.

…

…

…

"Where have you been!?" yelled Liam's mother as she grabbed him on his shoulder.

Her mind was going a thousand miles an hour as she tried to take in the situation. The first thing she noticed was that his winter coat was sopping wet and almost freezing. Underneath her fingertips, she could feel small bubbles of water get pushed out from the thick cloth as she squeezed.

She pulled him closer and touched the side of his cheek. "It's cold," she muttered. Her anger started to go away as her motherly instincts took over.

In the kitchen, Liam's father stood slack-jawed at the display. He looked down at the now soggy carpet the bit his lip. He took another long sip from his coffee before making a mental note to clean it up later. Standing up from the kitchen's main table Carter headed over towards where his wife and son stood.

Meanwhile, Liam finally noticed the look on his father's face. It was one he's seen a lot more recently, ever since he got kicked out of his first school. Pursed lips and narrowed eyes greeted him as Carter ended the short walk from the kitchen into the hall.

Immediately Liam pulled away from his mother, much to her distress. Liam's father gave him a once over then calmly asked: "Where were you?"

"Out..." answered Liam as a dreadful look came over his face.

Liam's father straightened his back then walked directly in front of his son. Behind him, Olivia stood watching with a grimace on her face. She didn't like the way Carter dealt with things like this, not one bit. Always the disciplinarian. She thought.

"That so..." drawled Liam's father.

Liam gulped down a glob of saliva then gave a small nod. His father turned back towards the kitchen. Just as he reached the table once more Carter looked over his shoulder and said, "We'll talk about this later. Go get cleaned up."

Liam almost seemed to shoot up the stairwell towards his room as his father finished. Liam's mother looking quite miffed commented, "Why do you always gotta act like that?"

"Someone has to do it, and I know you won't. If being the-" He brought his two forefingers up and scrunched them. "-bad guy sets him straight then so be it." explained Carter.

Olivia's eyebrows drooped as she replied with, "Yeah, and what if it doesn't? What then?"

"We'll get to that if it comes to it. My dad was always right about stuff like this you know. Just be a little strict now, and he'll be better off later." he deflected.

Olivia raised her hand with her pointer finger outstretched and began to respond but thought better of it. Her mouth closed as she slowly turned to the stairs leading up to the second story of their home. Letting out a sigh she thought He wouldn't listen anyway.

-Liam's Room, Second Story-​

It only took Liam about half an hour to get 'cleaned up' like his father told him to. The first thing he did when he got to his bedroom was go straight into his bathroom. After a short walk across a rather large room, for New York at least, Liam pulled open the wooden door leading into where his mind would be blown out of the water once more.

His bathroom was the smallest out of all of the lavatories in the house. It was about the size of a walk-in closet with a standing shower and a toilet on opposite ends of the space. In the middle, more towards the toilet, there was a small sink with cabinet doors below it.

Above that sink was a mirror.

After Liam hurriedly closed the door behind him, he tried to force off his sopping wet clothes. After a few irritating seconds of thick winter wear sticking to damp skin, Liam succeeded.

Unceremoniously, Liam threw the bundle of clothes onto the tiled floor. It landed with an audible, "Plop!"

I'm not even cold...thought Liam still trying to deny the happenings as of late.

After getting a pristine white towel out from underneath the sink, Liam walked into his shower and began to mess with the metal dial inside. Without thinking much of it, he turned the dial towards the left closer to the imprinted word, 'Hot.'

Leaning down towards the knob to turn on the water Liam thought, Just don't worry about it. I'm fine.

Slowly but surely, the knob was loosened as it let out a few small creaks. A second passed, then two.

Unsure brown eyes looked up at the showerhead above them as Liam muttered, "What the hell..."

As the dial reached the farthest it could go the Liam could have sworn he could hear something sloshing around before a scalding heat hit him straight in the face. Liam's hands latched onto his face as he let a growling hiss. It felt like a red-hot iron slapped him across his cheek.

Instinctively, Liam's body pushed itself backward as the sound of glass breaking echoed into the house. Liam's head rocketed towards the ground as a small piece of glass cut into his right foot. Time seemed to slow for him as his body twisted around, and Liam landed with both of his hands below his body.

The water flowing in the shower started to quickly bleed as red as a ruby with the thick substance dripping to the floor from Liam's foot. Almost immediately, Liam's nose scrunched up as he picked up the smell of something unsavory.

It smelled like something rotten, or better yet unclean. (3)

From outside in the hall, Liam's mother called out, "Honey are you alright? I heard some noise."

Pushing himself upwards and away from the mess of blood, water, and glass, Liam replied, "I'm fine Mom! I just, uh...I had a cup of water and dropped it. Y-Yeah."

Outside his door, a frown came over Olivia's face as she said, "Be more careful, I don't want you getting hurt!" before heading down towards the master bedroom.

The damage to the shower was substantial; the top glass pane making up the door was lying in ruins while the one below it looked fractured enough that a small wind could blow it out. Well, nothing a little duct tape and love couldn't fix.

On the floor, Liam slowly pulled himself up and onto his bottom. As quietly as he could muster, he looked down at his foot. His apprehensive eyes calmed as Liam gazed at the wound.

The back of his heel was cut open and from where he was holding it Liam could see the pink flesh of the wound in his heel. As he stared closer, Liam thought It's not bleeding?

It looked like after the initial spill nothing more came out of it besides sharp pain.

"O-Okay Liam, come on...I just gotta get it out." gasped Liam as he brought his hands towards his foot.

With his left hand, Liam wrapped his fingers around the foot's ankle while with his right he grabbed onto the embedded piece of glass. In his head, Liam counted, One...two...three! Then with a sharp tug, he pulled the shard out.

Brown eyes took on a red tinge as a wave of pain, hit Liam upside his face with a frying pan. He let out a loud gasp as the shard of overcooked sand was finally wrenched free of his foot. Speedily breathing in and out, Liam brought the annoyance in front of his face.

The shard was covered in cold blood that seemed to make the crystalline structure look like some type of ruby in Liam's pain addled mind. Thoughtlessly Liam stared into the crystal as the waves of sharp pain started to fade away.

In the piece of glass, the reflection of Liam's eye showed him more of the truth he was refusing to accept.

His left eye was glowing a cardinal hue, matching the color of the blood all around his bathroom. At first, he refused to acknowledge it at all. Adrenaline was still pumping through his mind and he thought, It's just the blood...right? In disbelief.

Standing up to his full height, around five foot six inches, Liam's still glowering eyes centered in on the mirror above his sink. He let out a low sigh and muttered, "Goddammit." as his face was revealed in full.

To most, it would still look fairly normal for someone of his age for all except two things, his skin and his eyes. All over his skin was deathly pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in years; while his eyes were still glowing a hateful red, reflecting off of the mirror. (4)

Anxiously, one of Liam's hands pivoted up towards his mouth.

"Please...please just let this all be some bad dream." prayed Liam as his finger curled underneath his lip.

His hand started to shake as he brought the lip up to reveal his top row of teeth beneath it. The building fear in Liam's stomach reached its conclusion as his teeth greeted the world or rather two of them.

Lying over his gum-line were two large fangs, similar enough to his incisors to be recognized as actual teeth yet much, much longer. The two over-sized canines looked like they were inlaid within his gum line; instinctively, Liam flexed a muscle in his mouth he didn't know he had.

The two fangs shot forward running a line over his gums directly on top of the incisors of his top row of teeth. They stretched about three inches long and looked sharp enough to rip out someone's throat. Liam brought his free hand over and gently touched the tip of one of his new additions.

As soon as pale skin met razor-sharp fang, Liam felt a small prick followed by a droplet of blood dripping from his fingertip into the waiting sink below. Too shell shocked to check on his wound Liam blankly stared at his reflection in the mirror.

If he were to check, he'd see it was already healed.