FANGS (original)

Chapter One

The orphanage was dark, damp, and cold. Water dripped from a crack in the ceiling and landed with little plinking sounds as it hit the linoleum floor, forming a small puddle near the bare feet of a dark haired boy. Everyone else was asleep, curled up in their old, rickety single beds on mattresses that wreaked of moth balls. But the boy was wide awake, and it wasn't just because of his insomnia. He'd been diagnosed with that a few years ago. Even on the few nights he easily drifted asleep someone would later find him sleep walking.
The boy's name was Riley and he'd just turned fifteen the day before. Birthdays weren't really celebrated at the orphanage. Sometimes everyone would sing happy birthday, if they remembered, but it was never a big deal. There was no cake, no birthday wishes, no presents.... unless of course you had a friend nice enough to make you a card or a little trinket out of scratch paper. No one made Riley anything. He didn't exactly have many, or any, friends at the orphanage. They often treated as one of the outcasts, the butt of many jokes, even though he'd lived there most of his life.
Yesterday, he'd woken up from the little sleep he got, still tired, knowing full well no one would even remember it was his birthday. He went to use the bathroom and, as he washed his hands, he caught his reflection in the mirror. Riley jumped back and bumped into a stall door that was slightly off it's hinges. He took a step forward, and peering into the mirror, he slowly opened his mouth to reveal what appeared to be a set of white, glistening fangs. Cautously he lifted one of his hands and touched his teeth... He wasn't seeing things. They were real.
All day he tried to hide them. Everyone noticed he was abnormally quiet, even quieter than usual. A few of the people that worked at the orphanage asked him if anything was wrong, but he just shook his head, afraid that if he opened his mouth to talk, someone would see those sharp, pointy little teeth that had grown over night. He'd been able to keep them a secret all day long.
This morning though, when Freddie Jones tackled him to the ground and he yelled, his secret was out. Freddie, the orphanage bully and one of Riley's biggest problems, threw a punch, hitting Riley in the face. But Riley pushed Freddie off of him and up against a nearby wall, something he usually didn't have the strength to do. Riley had been in a decent number of fist fights, but Freddie was a chubby, freckel-faced, boy three times his size.
"What the...." Freddie started yelling angrily, but he stopped mid-sentence, when he caught sight of Riley's teeth.
"When did you grow FANGS?" he asked, loud enough for everyone to hear, even the kids who had kept their distance, thinking it would be safer to view the two boys tussle from afar. Riley clamped his mouth shut. The group of people who'd formed a circle around the boys to watch the match grew bigger.
"He has FANGS! I SAW them!" Freddie pointed a short, chubby finger at Riley accusingly. Everyone started to whisper, their eyes on Riley.
"No I don't!" Riley mumbled. He felt tears forming behind his eyes, but he held them back. Freddie smirked.
"Then why don't you open your mouth up and prove it?" he paused. "Show us your fangs, fang-boy!" More than anything Riley wanted to take a baseball bat to Freddie's head. Before anyone could stop him he had Freddie pinned to the ground. Seconds later Ms. Wiligens rushed out and pulled Riley off the top of him.
"This certainly is a change of events." She muttered. Usually, Riley was the one pinned to the floor. Ms. Wiligens grabbed Riley by the ear and locked him in a small closet for the rest of the day. She didn't let him out for dinner and no one came to sneak him any food like some of the kids, the kids with friends, often did. But even though he was locked behind the closet door he could still hear the other kids talking, and he was sure some of them wanted him to hear.
"There was always something... something wrong about that boy. I mean, have you ever noticed how quiet he usually is? Like he's, I don't know... plotting something maybe." he overheard Freddie say.
"Do you think he's... do you think he's dangerous?" he heard a girl ask. Riley moved closer to the door. He knew that voice. As he looked through the dime-sized hole in the wood door his heart fell. It was Natasha, a long, blonde haired girl with ocean blue eyes that he'd been trying to impress since she set foot at the orphanage two years ago. Like him both her parents had died and no one else had wanted or been able to take her. Unlike him she at least knew her parents. At least she remembered them. Natasha and her parents had been in a terrible car accident. A week and a half later she'd come here.
"I don't know. I don't want to scare you, Natasha." Freddie started. "But... you just never know with guys like that." Natasha looked down.
"So he really had... fangs?" She whispered.
"Yeah, I saw them myself. He tried to bite me with them. If I were you, I'd steer clear of him, just to be safe." Natasha's eyes were wide and she nodded her head. Riley wanted to scream. He wanted to yell out that he hadn't tried to bite anyone. That Freddie had attacked HIM. That the fangs weren't real. But they were, and he didn't know how or why he got them, and he didn't know how to get rid of them.
Riley could hear the rain pounding down on the roof. The puddle by his feet was growing larger and larger. He knew he should probably get a kettle from the kitchen and set it on the floor to catch the water, but what was the point? Besides, if anyone caught him in the kitchen he'd probably get yelled at even more. They'd think he was smuggling food. His stomach growled loudly and he threw his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. A bruise had formed over his right eye where Freddie had slugged him and he winced at the pain. It made him wish he'd done more than just given Freddie a bloody nose.
"God, what's happening to me?" he thought. He'd been freaking out since the day he realized he had grown fangs and was starting to wonder if he was suffering from insanity. Maybe it was due to the stress of putting up with people like Freddie.
"Please, please just get me out of here." It was no use praying for the fangs to go away or for an explanation in his mind. Everyone would still hate him. He would still be an outcast. Natasha would still think he was a freak and he'd still have Freddie to deal with. It was better to hope he'd get out of this place somehow. Except who would adopt a boy like him who got in - and lost - fist fights, with a black eye and fangs? But he hadn't really lost that last fight with Freddie... had he?

Chapter Two

Riley woke up the next morning with everyone else just as the sunlight was starting to shine in through the dust lined windows. The light seemed brighter than usual and it blinded him for a few seconds, making his eyes water. He'd stumbled back to his bed sometime after midnight and tossed and turned for awhile after that. Riley stretched and yawned, then shut his mouth quickly. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and felt for the fangs. They were still there.
All through breakfast he could feel the other kids staring at him. He was aware of every move he made, careful to hide his fangs, but that only made him feel awkward. Simple things like eating became difficult. Natasha purposefully sat as far away from Riley as she could. He knew she was afraid.
After breakfast the taunting began. People would walk passed him and cough "Freak!" or mutter "Fang-Boy!". As he walked by a group of girls they ran away screaming "Don't bite me! Don't bite me!" More than anything he wanted to hide away somewhere where no one could find him and he couldn't hear the rumors or the snide comments.
That afternoon, after everyone had eaten lunch and cleaned up, a well-built, grizzily man with black framed glasses came to the orphanage. His brown hair and shaggy beard were speckled with gray. He looked like he was somewhere in his mid-forties. The man was there to adopt someone. Most of the orphans put on their best act, hoping to be taken away to a loving home. Others with close friends or brothers and sisters at the orphanage clung on to each other tightly. They didn't want to be separated. Riley sat in a darkened hallway. A light bulb had burned out a few days ago and no one bothered to change it.
The man walked around looking at the children, stopping to talk with a few. Riley watched, thinking that the man wouldn't even notice him. He thought of how he'd probably spend his entire life at the orphanage being called fang-boy. It made him want to crawl under a rock and fade away. But when Ms. Wiligens led the man down the dark hallway, he stopped and stared at Riley. Riley knew the man was taking in his bruised eye, his messy, black hair, his ripped jeans, and his bare feet. But the man didn't just walk away.
"What's your name son?" he asked. Ms. Wiligens looked as suprised as Riley felt. But for a second, as Riley's eyes met the man's gray colored ones, he felt like there might be hope. Maybe God had heard him last night. Maybe this man would take him away.
"Riley." he answered. It was hard to talk clearly with his new fangs, especially when he was trying to hide them.
"And how old are you?" the man asked. Riley blinked. Visitors seldom asked his name, let alone any more than that.
"Fifteen. I just turned fifteen." he didn't know why he'd added that last part. It didn't really matter, did it? No one else seemed to care.
"Well happy birthday then!" the man paused. "Why do you look so sad? If you just turned fifteen you should be happy. That's a big step you know." He crouched down next to Riley. Riley just shrugged. How could he be happy in a place like this, especially with everyone whispering about him, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to make it seem like they didn't want him to.
"Mr. Thomas, the other boys are still outside playing if you'd like to see them." Ms. Wiligens smiled.
"Sure. But could you give me a minute to talk to Riley here first?" he asked. Riley's face grew with confusion and Ms. Wiligens looked astonished, but she quickly covered it up with a fake smile.
"Why of course. I'm just going to check on something in the kitchen. I'll be back in a few minutes." Mr. Thomas nodded and she left.
"So Riley, why did you say you're so glum?" he asked as soon as Ms. Wiligens was out of earshot. Riley didn't even know how to respond, but he couldn't help but feel happy that the man seemed genuinly interested in him. For some reason he felt nervous, like he wanted to make a good first impression.
"I'm... I'm not." he tried, still hiding his fangs. If Mr. Thomas saw them he surely wouldn't want to adopt Riley. Instead he'd go to look at the other boys and choose one of them. Maybe he'd take Freddie or Charles, Freddie's usual accomplist in all his nasty schemes. If he took Freddie it might not be so bad... At least Riley wouldn't have to put up with him anymore. But if he took Riley.... then he wouldn't have to deal with any of them anymore.
"Well, I don't know that I believe that." Mr. Thomas remarked. "Prove it to me. Show me a smile." Riley froze in a panic. After a few seconds of stalling he rolled his eyes dramatically and smiled, keeping his lips sealed shut, hoping that would satisfy the man.
"That's not a real smile. Let me see your teeth!" Mr. Thomas chuckeled. Riley shook his head.
"Come on, let me see those pearly whites!" Riley shook his head even more vigorously. The thought that the man might be mad at him crossed his mind. He seemed nice, and for some reason, like he might be interested in Riley. But after weighing his odds Riley decided he'd have a worse chance of the man leaving him if he opened his mouth up.
"Well then I'll just have to force a smile out of you." he reached over and started tickling Riley. Riley tried to fight it and hold the laughter back, but he couldn't
"Stop! Stop!" he begged, gasping for air and laughing. And Mr. Thomas saw his teeth... and his fangs. Riley knew he'd blown it and he felt stupid for getting his hopes up. His heart did a nose dive and he stared at his feet, not wanting to see Mr. Thomas' horrified expression.
Just then Ms. Wiligens walked back in.
"Ah, Mr. Thomas. Would you like to meet some of the other children now? I think you'll especially like Ruben. He's a hard worker and -" Mr. Thomas held his hands up, motioning for Ms. Wiligens to stop.
"Actually, I'd like to adopt Riley here if that's alright." Ms. Wiligens furrowed her eye brows.
"Are you... are you sure you don't want to see any of the other kids?" she asked.
"Quite sure." Mr. Thomas replied quickly. "I think Riley here is exactly what I'm looking for." Ms. Wiligens paused, struck by disbelief.
"Well...I - I should probably warn you that he's very... quiet. He's gotten in more than a few fist fights too. Just yesterday I had to pull him off another boy his age." Mr. Thomas rubbed his bearded chin with his hand.
"I think we can get passed that. Don't you Riley?" Riley slowly nodded. Was Mr. Thomas really considering adopting him? Riley was positive he'd seen the fangs. He'd stared right at them! Even without the fangs, there was nothing really special about Riley. Why did this man want him? He didn't understand it. Part of him was excited and he could barely contain it, but another part of him said that Mr. Thomas could change his mind at any time.
"He has insomnia, a sleeping disorder. And sometimes he sleepwalks..." Ms. Wiligens was racking her brain for reasons Mr. Thomas should move on to another child and Riley knew it. She didn't think he was worthy of being placed in a decent home.
Riley had never liked her much, but this was a new low. Someone was interested in adopting him and she was trying to prevent it. He might never get a chance lke this again! Anger swelled up inside of him. What had he ever done to her? Nothing... But he had been framed for quite a few things that Ms. Wiligens probably still held against him. Like the time someone put bright orange hair dye in her deep conditioning treatment and she came out of the bathroom looking like a carrot. Riley personally thought it was an improvement from the blinding, snow white color it normally was and couldn't help but laugh when he saw her. It wasn't so funny when she found the hair dye packaging under his bed though. Ms. Wiligens was furious.
"Well I know just the thing to take care of that." he replied matter-o-factly.
"Are you... sure you want to adopt Riley?" Ms. Wiligens asked one more, final time.
"Yes. Yes, I am."

Chapter Three
Riley didn't get a wink of sleep that night. It wasn't his insomnia. It wasn't his fangs. It wasn't Freddie or the rumors. He was excited, too excited. Riley wondered what it would be like living somewhere besides the orphanage - living in a normal home. Would he go to school? At the orphanage everyone was home schooled. If he went to school, would he make friends? Riley imagined himself being dropped off by a school bus in front of normal, everyday house. He imagined walking through the front door, into a kitchen, and having Mr. Thomas ask him how his day was.
"Good." he'd respond and then proceed to ask if he could invite some of his friends from school over that weekend. Mr. Thomas would tell him that was fine and they'd sit down to eat a nice dinner. Then maybe they'd watch TV or play football - Riley had always wanted to learn how to play football. He wondered if Mr. Thomas could teach him. Riley also wondered where Mr. Thomas lived. Did he live in the over crowded city, in a small suburb, in the country? Would Riley have his own bedroom? He didn't even know if Mr. Thomas had any other kids. He didn't know if he was married or if he had pets.
'A dog would be nice.' Riley thought. Honestly, he didn't know anything about Mr. Thomas, except that he was the answer to his prayers - or so he seemed to be.
The next day, after lunch Riley got a visitor. No one had ever come to visit Riley. As he walked into the small recreation room, a stern-faced Ms. Wiligens walking along side him, he spotted Mr. Thomas. His face lit up and he ran over to where the man sat on a old, wooden bench.
"Ah, Riley. Just the boy I wanted to see." Mr. Thomas let out a toothy grin. "How's your day been so far?" Riley mulled over his question for a moment. His day hadn't been exactly great.... Freddie was twisting the fang story around even more, saying things like that he'd once seen Riley drinnk blood. But Riley had been so excited about being adopted that he had tuned most of it out, knowing soon he'd be able to escape it all. He decided on shrugging his shoulders. It was one of those gestures that said 'nothing great has happened.... but things aren't so bad either.' It seemed to satisfy Mr. Thomas just fine.
"So Riley, which of these kids do you hang out with?" Mr. Thomas smiled. Riley on the other hand felt like he'd just taken a blow to the stomach. What was he supposed to say? 'Sorry Mr. Thomas, but I don't actually have any friends. They all think I'm a freak, especially since I grew fangs over night...' No, that wasn't gonna work. He stared down at his feet.
"I, um... I don't really get along with.... them so well." he stammered.
'Which is why I have a black eye...' Riley thought.
"Mmmhmm.... Well why not? I'm sure there's someone here who shares your same interests.... Someone who you'd like to be friends with." Mr. Thomas winked, as if suggesting there might be a girl in the picture. Sure. Riley thought about Natasha, who wouldn't even look his way because of Freddie. Or maybe it wasn't all because of Freddie. Even before the fangs, she'd never made an effort to talk to Riley. She'd never seemed like she cared. Then again she didn't hide from him or run away either. Riley shook his head.
"No. It's not that.... It's not that I wouldn't like to be friends with some of them.... They just don't like me I guess." he said softly. Mr. Thomas nodded his head.
"Well, they don't know what they're missing then. You're probably better off with out them anyway." He smiled. "So now tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?" Riley thought hard about that. Finally he responded.
"I like to read I guess."
'Was that a dumb answer?' he asked himself. 'A normal kid would've said he played basketball.... or went skateboarding.... or -'
"Really? I quite enjoy reading myself. What kind of books do you read?" Mr. Thomas asked him. No one ever asked Riley what he liked.
"I don't know. I... I really like The Outsiders. That's my favorite... and I like The Giver. I read Holes too.... I saw part of the movie once, but the book was much better." the words tumbled out of Riley's mouth.
"All very good books. There's a bookstore not too far away from where I live. As soon as you come to live with me I'll take you there. I think you'll like it." The two continued talking about everything from pets (Mr. Thomas said he didn't have any but that he'd thought about getting a dog. This excited Riley.) to the weather (A sure sign they were running out of things to say.) before Mr. Thomas had to leave, but he promised to keep visiting Riley every chance he could.
A few days later, Riley stood on the front porch of the orphanage. The green paint was starting to peal off and the swing that used to hang there had broke off the year before in a terrible wind storm. Two big black garbage bags sat near Riley's feet holding his clothes and the few other belongings he had. Mr. Thomas was talking to Ms. Wiligens, going over last minute bits of information. Today was the day Riley was going to leave the orphanage once and for all, and just like in his dreams, he had a home to go to. He wasn't sure what kind of house Mr. Thomas had, but if the expensive looking, black sports' car he'd driven there to pick Riley up suggested anything, it was going to be nice. Not that it mattered all that much. Riley thought that anything would be an improvement.
The brisk early morning air nipped at Riley's face, but he ignored it. It was the middle of March and the weather had been on and off lately, but mostly it was wet and chilly. Puddles lined the streets and the sun was covered up with gray clouds. But even the gloomy weather couldn't wipe away the excitement bubbling up inside of Riley. The last few days had seemed to drag on forever in Riley's anticipation. He'd packed his things up the second Mr. Thomas had announced he would forsure be adopting him. Mr. Thomas had visited a few more times, signing paper work and finalizing everything. Each time he'd checked in on Riley and talked with him for awhile. Mostly, Riley just tried to stay away from Freddie and out of trouble. He was so excited to be living with Mr. Thomas, someone who actually seemed to care, that nothing could bring him down, not even Freddie, whom he suspected was jealous.
As for Natasha, Riley's stomach still dropped whenever he saw her. This morning though, right before he walked out the door, she'd come up to him slowly.
"I - I heard someone adopted you." she said so quietly Riley could barely hear her.
"Yeah." He nodded after a few seconds, wondering why she'd ventured anywhere near him after her talk with Freddie. Natasha sweeped a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Well... I hope you like your new home and.... everything." she told him. Riley smiled and he felt a tiny pang of sadness. What if Natasha had finally come around and now he was leaving? He'd spent so much time trying to get her to notice him, but he'd always been too shy.
"Thanks." he said. Then he saw the fear form in Natasha's eyes. She'd seen his fangs.
Mr. Thomas strode over to Riley with a stack of papers in hand and picked up one of the garbage bags.
"Alright buddy, why don't we take you to see your new home?" Riley's eyes grew wide. He nodded his head and picked up the other bag, following Mr. Thomas to the black sports' car. Mr. Thomas popped open the trunk and placed the luggage inside. Then he opened one of the back doors for Riley.
"Why don't you climb on in there?" he smiled and Riley slid in across the leather seat. The car had been running for awhile and the heat felt good against Riley's cold, pale skin. Mr. Thomas sat down in the driver's seat and Riley felt the car lower under his weight. He slammed the door, waved back at Ms. Wiligens, and they were off.
"So Riley, you've been at the orphanage all your life, correct?" Mr. Thomas suddenly sounded very serious, catching Riley by suprise.
"Uh... yes. Basically... I mean, I was really little when I was taken there. I don't really remember anything else before it." Riley responded. Supposedly he had lived in a small house on the outskirts of town with his mom and dad when he was little, but that had burned down a long time ago.
"And your parents?" Mr. Thomas looked back at Riley from the rear-view mirror. Riley thought it was odd that Mr. Thomas wanted to know about his parents so soon. Didn't most people wait a little while at least before they asked questions that were supposed to be.... personal? Riley stared out the window. He didn't want to have this conversation. Today he was supposed to be happy. He didn't want topics like the death of his parents casting a rain cloud over him.
"They - they passed away." He swallowed. Mr. Thomas turned left onto a winding gravel road.
"Ah. And you were how old when this happened?" He asked.
"Almost two." Riley was fidgetting in his seat. Couldn't they talk about something else?
"So you don't remember too much about your parents either then?" Mr. Thomas sounded very business like.
"Um... no. I have a picture of my mom and dad if you want to see it though." Riley dug around in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tattered photograph. He always carried it with him, hoping that someday, maybe, he'd be able to remember something about them. Mr. Thomas stopped at a stop sign and took the picture from Riley's hands.
"Hmmmm." He stared at the picture of the couple. Riley's mom had short, dark red hair that framed her cream colored face and brought out her bright, flickering green eyes, the same eyes Riley had. Still, he looked more like his dad, who shared his black hair and lanky, yet muscular, body frame. They both had their arms wrapped around each other's waist and looked like they were just in their twenties. Both of them were smiling, but neither showed their teeth. Mr. Thomas handed the picture back to Riley without another word and they pulled up into a long driveway. In front of them was a white brick house at least three times the size of the orphanage. Riley's jaw dropped. There was a beautiful fountain in the middle of the culd-a-sac driveway and a huge, chip-free, front porch with a love seat garden swing. Forest green vines climbed up one of the sides of the house and he could see part of an in-ground swimming pool in the back yard. Riley had only been swimming a few times in his life and he'd enjoyed it. He wanted to dive into the water that second, but then again there was an entire house to explore. Either way, he was living there now. There would be plenty of time for him to do everything.
"Come along, Riley." Mr. Thomas slammed his car door and started taking long, quick strides to the house. Riley stumbled out of the car and struggled to keep up.
Mr. Thomas held open the big, wooden front door and Riley followed close behind him. All the lights were either turned down or off and most of the shades were drawn, allowing little light into the house. They stood in a dark, stone floored hallway. A golden chandelier hung over head. Riley peered to his left and saw a room with white carpeting, a black leather couch, a round, black coffee table, and a big screen TV. His face lit up. The TV would be such an improvement compared to the little one at the orphanage that only seemed to get the local news channels. To the right was an office with more books than Riley had ever seen in his entire life. It looked like a library and he wondered what types of books Mr. Thomas had filled it with. He wondered how long it would take him to read them all. Riley wanted to see his bedroom - he'd never had his own bedroom - and explore the massive house where he'd be living.
A little farther up the hallway was the dinning room. A huge, oval-shaped, table was in the middle of it, with another chandelier hanging above it. On one of the crimson colored walls was a beautiful landscape portrait of a stream running through a forest in autumn. Riley wondred why Mr. Thomas needed such a big dinning room when only he lived there. It was some what sad actually.
Connected to the dinning room by an archway was the kitchen, filled with all the latest, and shinniest, appliences. Nearly everything was black except for the cabinets which were a deep mahogany color. Riley couldn't get over how big the house was or how nicely Mr. Thomas had furnished it. Everything seemed to sparkle.
"When do I get to see my room?" Riley couldn't help but ask. The two black garbage bags filled with his stuff were still in the trunk of Mr. Thomas' sports car. Riley was so excited he'd forgotten them already.
Mr. Thomas walked down to the end of the hallway and unlocked a heavy door, revealing a staircase.
"Follow me." Mr. Thomas said sharply. Riley followed wondering if Mr. Thomas was feeling okay. His mood had changed dramatically since they were at the orphanage. He wondered if maybe it was the picture he'd shown Mr. Thomas of his parents.
The basement was cold and unfinished. Mr. Thomas flicked on a dim light, and several different machines covered in buttons emerged from the darkness. Wires and cords ran across the concrete floor, covering it almost completely. A jail-cell-like room was in the far corner. Riley didn't know what to think. He wondered, silently, what everything was for. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of hit stomach and he noted that Mr. Thomas seemed like a different person entirely. It was scaring him.
"How much do you know about vampires?" Mr. Thomas asked suddenly. Riley looked confused for a moment. It was an odd question, or maybe not considering Riley's current situation.
"Nothing, really." he answered, growing more and more fearful by the second. This wasn't right.
"So, if you ever met one, you wouldn't be able to tell?" Mr. Thomas stared at Riley, stone-faced.
'Is he serious?' Riley wondered. After realizing he was Riley responded.
"No... I mean, vampires aren't real anyway. So what does it matt-" He bit down on his tongue with one of his fangs and screamed. Blood gushed out of the punctured wound and Riley clamped his hands over his mouth, wincing at the pain. Mr. Thomas smiled.
"Still getting used to the fangs I see." Riley looked up at Mr. Thomas with wide eyes. A million different thoughts raced through is head.
'So he does know... Why is he smiling?... Why did he bring me down here?.... And what are all these machines for?..... Why is he acting so strange?....'
Mr. Thomas stared at Riley, their gazes locking in on each other.
"Yes, I know about the fangs. I know about who you are. I know about what you're becoming. I know about your parents -"
"You don't know crap about my parents." The words flew out of Riley's mouth and he suprised even himself, but he knew he was right. He had to be. He didn't even know much, if anything really, about his parents. Mr. Thomas certainly couldn't know anything. He could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest. Anger swelled up inside of him and he knew Mr. Thomas wasn't who he'd thought he was.
Mr. Thomas grabbed him by the arm and pushed him toward the cell in the corner of the room.
"And you do?" Mr. Thomas laughed. It wasn't the fun laugh he'd used at the orphanage when they'd first met - the laugh Riley had so quickly come to love. It was a cynical, flem-filled laugh. "You never knew your parents. You don't know what monsters they really were."
Riley could feel tears forming behind his eyes and he didn't know if they were because he'd trusted Mr. Thomas so much or because of what Mr. Thomas just said about his parents. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was that he was scared half to death. In any case he tried to break free, but the grip Mr. Thomas had on his arm was too tight. He was already being thrown into the cell, landing on the cold, hard, concrete floor with a thud. Mr. Thomas was locking the metal-barred door, locking Riley inside.
"Now, my dear boy, you have two choices. Your first is too cooperate and things will run smoothly. Your second is to put up a fight - to try to get away. Let me assure you that there is no escape. Don't waste your time or energy. Things will be a lot less painful, for you that is, if you don't try to make trouble."
"What's - what's going on?" Riley wanted to say more, wanted to say something different, but he didn't believe what was happening. Mr. Thomas stroked his scruffy chin and paced back and forth a few times, as if deciding whether or not he should answer Riley's question.
"Your fangs appeared about the time you turned fifteen I believe. A late bloomer you are, but that's just what I was looking for anyway. So, of course, as soon as I saw you and realized what you were, I had to bring you here."
"To do what?" Riley demanded. His tongue had stopped bleeding for the most part, but it was still throbbing. His right shoulder was sore from hitting the concrete floor. Mr. Thomas was stronger than he looked.
"Hmph. Well, I've looked long and hard for a case like you, boy. Twenty-two years ago, when I was walking home from a party a good friend of mine threw, I was attacked by a ruthless, blood-thirsty vampire. It was the first time I'd ever come across one, and I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to defend myself." Mr. Thomas stopped to take a breath. Riley stared at him menacingly. Everything around him seemed to slow down, even his heart beat.
"I heard a gun fire and the creature went limp. A man, David Grewolski, helped me up. He'd shot the bastard with a silver bullet." Mr. Thomas held up a pistol, letting Riley know he was loaded and ready for any tricks he might try. Riley nearly jumped when he saw it.
"You see, silver kills vampires - among a few other things of course. I asked David that night to teach me everything he knew about them. We became a team, he and I, until one night.... one dreadful night, they ganged up him, caught him off guard. I found him the next morning, cold and lifeless... body mangled. And I tracked everyone of them down, and I killed them all." Mr. Thomas' voice was growing colder, harder, by the minute.
"You're INSANE! You think - you think I'm a - a vampire?" Riley's body shook with anger and the tears started spilling out, blurring his vision. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and cursed himself for being so stupid. He should have known. He should have realized it was too good to be true - too good to happen to him. But how could he have known it would be this bad - a cage in the basement of a deranged man's house? A dereanged man who thought he was evil? Blood-thirsty even?
"Am I now? Then explain the fangs." Mr. Thomas demanded. "You see, vampires aren't born with fangs. They're born to appear human - to blend in I suppose. They don't usually turn until they're somewhere between the ages of ten and fifteen - as you just recently started. But you - you're a special case - an orphan, no memory of his blood-sucking family, who grew up thinking he was a human. And I caught you just in time. You're not done turning yet. You've only just grown your fangs. Soon though, soon you'll become stronger, faster. Sunlight will burn into your skin, your senses will become intensified, and you'll hunger for something new.... blood."
"No!" Riley cried. "No, your wrong! You're insane! Let me go!" he grabbed the metal bars of the door with both hands just as Mr. Thomas flipped a switch on one of the many machines. A bolt of electricity shot through his body and he fell backward. It felt like he'd been hit by lightening.
"Like I said, you'll be getting stronger soon. I don't want to take any chances. I've never been in the position to see a vampire turn and besides, I'm hoping that through a series of tests I'll be able to figure out what sets vampires off, maybe even how to cure a normal, born and raised human that you bastards have turned. Maybe a new way to -"
"Tests?!" Riley screamed. He couldn't hold it back any longer, and what was the point really? He had every right in the world to yell as loud as he wanted, to have a mental breakdown even. "That's why you adopted me? Because you think I'm some kind of... of make-believe creature and you want to make me your lab rat?!" Mr. Thomas smiled again.
"Well, you catch on quickly don't you? I suppose it would be best to let you calm down before -"
"Calm down?" Riley couldn't believe what he was hearing - what was happening. It felt like someone had ripped his chest open and yanked out his heart, and with that his hopes and dreams of ever living a normal life.
"You - you threw me in a cage. You're telling me that you think I'm a - a - a vampire and that you want to experiment on me! You expect me to calm down?" Riley's breathing was jagged and he could feel his body trembling. He'd never yelled at anyone before as far as he could remember. Not to this extent at least. But who wouldn't in a case like this? What could he be expected to do? He didn't know if he was just going insane or if a psychotic freak who planned to torture him really was his new legal guardian. He hoped like mad it was that he was only going insane.
"We'll get an early start in the morning then. Goodnight Riley." Mr. Thomas turned and started walking toward the stairs.
"You can't - you can't leave me down here! It's... It's child abuse! Let me out! You can't -" Riley heard the door at the top of the steps click shut and lock.
'This is a ngihtmare.' Riley told himself. 'You'll wake up at the orphanage and everything will be okay. Your only major problem in life will be Freddie....'
Freddie seemed like a cake walk compared to this. But Riley knew he wasn't asleep. It was too real. The pain was too real.
'It's a trick, maybe. A joke. Someone... Someone's just..." Riley couldn't think of a reasonable explanation, but he just couldn't believe this was happening. He'd been so excited.... so happy. For once in his life he thought someone cared. But no, Mr. Thomas was just a wack job who wanted Riley as an experiment. Riley touched the metal bars on one side of the cage and another shock went coarsing through his body, making him jump. Picking the lock wasn't an option, not that he had anything to pick it with. And even if he could, it would take time. Then he'd have to pick the lock on the door leading upstairs. Even if he managed all that, what would he do? Make a run for it? No, Mr. Thomas would see him and he'd taken his pistol, fully loaded, along with him upstairs. He looked at the brick wall behind him, the only wall that wouldn't shock him. There was a window about eight or nine feet up. He was just under six feet tall - not nearly tall enough to reach it. Even if he could, he'd never fit through it. He collapsed to the floor, leaning his back against the wall, his shaggy, black hair hiding his eyes. He felt completely helpless. Mr. Thomas had said there was no escape. Riley shut his eyes, but when he opened them he was still in the dark, basement cell, surrouned by machines that would do God knows what to him. Tears clouded his vision, but this time, he didn't bother to wipe them away.
'I have to get out.' he thought. 'Somehow...'

Chapter Four
Riley spent almost the entire night pacing back and forth, thinking of what he could possibly do. He tried to sleep, but all he did was toss and turn. He kept thinking that maybe Mr. Thomas was right. Maybe he was turning into some kind of monster. It certainly would explain the fangs. It would even explain how he'd been able to push chubby Freddie off of him and it was true he didn't know his parents. All he had was that faded picture of them. He still didn't want to believe what Mr. Thomas was telling him, but he didn't have anything else to go on. It was cold and dark. He felt trapped and lonely... and most of all terrified. Eventually he drifted into a dreamless sleep, tired and exhausted.
Mr. Thomas sat upstairs at his desk in the same office filled with books that just hours ago Riley's eyes had lit up at the sight of. He was hunched over an a pile of old notebooks. The writing was hard to read, David Grewolski's chicken scratch. They were his old records of vampire accounts, both from while he worked with Mr. Thomas and from long before they ever met. David had kept them in a safe at his house, locked up tight. As soon as Mr. Thomas found out he was dead, he started working on breaking into the safe. He was certain they held the answers he needed, and he was right. Tracking down the monsters who had killed David was easy with all the information stored inside of them. He was going over them again now, making sure he wasn't making any mistakes with Riley. He knew that even the smallest error could lead to his own death. It was early in the morning, but Mr. Thomas was wide awake, having slept peacefully with a smile on his face and the pistol, fully loaded with silver bullets, tucked underneath his pillow.
Riley heard the metal door of the cell unlock. He was still partially asleep, but he opened one eye at the sound of someone's footsteps. He sprang up as soon as he saw Mr. Thomas walking quickly towards him, carrying the pistol in his right hand. Mr. Thomas pinned Riley against the brick wall in an instant, but Riley managed to push him away. He was getting stronger. Mr. Thomas cocked the gun and Riley froze. Beads of sweat ran down Riley's forehead and his breathing sped up. He told himself he never should have fallen asleep. He should have stayed awake, stayed watch, been ready for this.
"Stupid boy." Mr. Thomas walked toward Riley slowly, gun aimed at his chest. Riley didn't know what to do, but a single thought ran through his head.
'It's me or him.'
As soon as the pistol was within arms reach Riley grabbed the end of it, pointing it away from himself. A shot rang out and one of the silver bullets flew across the room, hitting one of the machines, sending sparks flying, and Mr. Thomas swore under his breath. Mr. Thomas had a firm grip on the gun, but all it took was a swift and powerful kick and he let go, sending the pistol sailing to the other side of the cage. It landed on the concrete floor within equal distance of Riley and Mr. Thomas. Riley wondered if he could get to it first. He'd have to at least try. He started moving towards it, but Mr. Thomas got a hold of one of his arms. His grip hurt, like it was digging into Riley's skin. Riley suprised himself with how easily he turned around and slammed Mr. Thomas up against one of the walls. Mr. Thomas was stuck, but his face didn't show any worry or concern. His breathing had also sped up, but it was only from the fight and not because he was afraid.
'He's not going any where.' Riley thought, using all his weight and strength to keep Mr. Thomas where he was. Riley lifted his hands and placed them around Mr. Thomas neck.
'It's me or him.' He thought. But he hesitated, thinking he couldn't go through with it, wondering if there was another way, remembering the person Mr. Thomas was back at the orphanage.
In that moment Mr. Thomas reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a syringe. He lifted his right knee, striking Riley in the abs with such force that it knocked the wind out of him. He faltered and Mr. Thomas smacked him in the face, hitting him twice, once square in the jaw and once throwing a punch at the same eye Freddie had hit days before - the eye that had just been starting to heal. The ring on Mr. Thomas left hand dug into Riley's face, cutting it open. Blood trickled down his cheek and his face stung from the impact. Mr. Thomas tried to hit him a third time, but Riley caught his fore arm in his hand, refusing to let go of it. Instead of struggling to free his arm from Riley's grip, Mr. Thomas resorted to kicking Riley's legs out from underneath him. Riley fell, the back of his head hitting the concrete floor. Before Riley had time to even try to get up, Mr. Thomas was on top of him, digging his knees into his stomach. A small pool of blood started to form near Riley's head from the cut on his face. Mr. Thomas lifted the syringe in his right hand and brought it down, injecting a thick, red substance into Riley's neck.
Everything started spinning. Riley's breathing slowed down and he started seeing spots. He tasted pennies, or was the blood trickeling into his mouth? And felt like he was going to be sick. He felt his eyes flicker and his body went limp.
"Stupid boy." Mr. Thomas muttered as he stood up.
"Stupid boy."

-------- Notes ------------

ATTENTION
Fangs has been moved into book format.
Item # 1416054
Hope you keep reading and enjoy the story. Thanks!
~Liz~

THANK YOU!!!
I wanted to give a shout out to whoever paid for my account to be upgraded from a free membership. Thank you so much. It means the world to me. I wish I could thank you personally, but since it was sent anonymously I can't really do that. :)
Also, since I have an upgraded account and can now do this :) FANGS will probably be transferred into book format to make it easier to follow along. This really made my entire week. You have no idea. :) :) :)

I'd also like to thank both Servant and Lilly for answering my question and letting me know that another word for a shot is a syringe. You'd think I would've figured that one out now wouldn't you? Anyway, thanks guys - syringe is a much better word. :)


ALSO.... HERE'S AN UPDATE
I'm not sure if I'm going to add more to this chapter yet, because I do like where it ends. It might just be a short chapter (or I'll add more in the middle of it somewhere) and then I'll go on to chapter five. In any case, hopefully I can work on that tonight or tomarrow so you guys aren't left hanging with Riley's limp body for too long. :) I'll try to be nice. Anyway, I hope you like what I added. Let me know what you think.