“So, just to make sure.. you aren’t about to drink my blood, or kill me?”

He looks much more average than the ominous, creaking exterior of the tower would suggest. On the short side, human features. His age is hard to tell—he could be anywhere from 20 to 50 years old.

“That’s just disgusting! I’m a vegetarian,” he says, looking hurt. “I don’t think I’ve killed anything bigger than a mosquito in the last century. Besides, the whole drinking blood thing is a harmful stereotype. Most vampires nowadays are either fruit bat types like me, and even the carnivorous ones don’t actually-“

“I know, I know.” I’m not eager to be lectured in modern vampirism. “So, I’m not wearing any silver, you won’t hurt me, and—wait.” A new thought hits me and I narrow my eyes. “I’m not about to be pulled into some twisted YA romance, right?”

He starts to laugh. “Please, no. I would rather not either. Considering that you’re, well, a high schooler and I’m—hm. What year is it? 1998 or 1989?“

“It’s 2024.”

“Close enough. That would make me-“ he counts quickly- “552. After you?”

He holds the door open and gestures inside in a melodramatic way. I can’t tell if it’s a joke or not.

I walk inside.

The house is surprisingly normal, for a supernatural creature’s dwelling. Old wooden floors, several bookcases and houseplants scattered around. A tabby cat glares at me from her space under the couch. The only hint that the owner isn’t human is the large pile of fruit scattered on the kitchen counter.

“Not what you expected?” He grins at my expression.

“I just thought—I don’t know—with the outside being so gloomy and all, it would look the same way inside. Suits of medieval armor lining the halls. Uhh. Crows. Dramatic organ music, at least.”

“Ehh, the exterior is partially for the aesthetic, partially to scare people off, and partially because I don’t think it’s been repainted for at least a century. Maybe two. I don’t really get an angsty backstory or powers or anything like that, but I’ll gladly keep the big dramatic mansion.

“So what is this school project on?”

“Theodora Meyers. The Selkie activist. I have to write an essay about her for English and I can’t find any good sources on her. I was wondering, since you’re technically immortal and all, if you had done any research on her or even met her yourself.” I pull a chair up to the counter, clear several kiwis away and lay my notes upon it.

He gasps. “Oh, I knew her! We dated before she passed all of those laws against stealing sealskins.”

“You.. dated.. Theodora Meyers. The most influential voice of Selkie rights of the 19th century.” I stare at him.

“Well, Theo wasn’t very influential until about ten years after she died, and I didn’t really know her for more than a couple weeks before we kind of.. fell apart.”

“..ah.. right..”

His face brightens. “But, Leonardo Daye, you know, the poet who wrote all those poems about vampires, is a different story, next time you have an English assignment, I could tell you all about him-“

“..woah, what?”

He laughs. “I’m joking! Mostly. Only maybe half of those poems were actually about me.”

“Wow. Um. I mean, this is all very new but I should probably get back to my essay.”

“Right, right. Theodora.”

(This is rather random but I wanted to write about urban fantasy, so….. yeah lol enjoy 😊)