Maybe it was the wet heat of that dull room. Maybe it was the tag itching at the neck of my tee shirt. Maybe it was that one of my earrings were bent and squeezed my lobe a little too tightly.
Maybe it was the fact that my whole fate, life and future would rest on one decision today. Pick any you like, I still felt like my guts were going to lurch out of my stomach and smear themselves on the wall. Not to be gross, but to remain honest.
I was at the Destined Fate Headquarters, you see. Nothing good could ever happen at the Destined Fate Headquarters.
I sat at in an uncomfortable plastic chair, tapping my foot impatiently. The seconds seemed like hours, yet the minutes seemed like seconds.
Great. I was losing my mind already.
The waiting room was set up much like a doctor’s office’s. Chairs sat in crooked rows against the wall, all facing the front desk where a bored-looking vampyre lady sat filing her-
Holy crap! How did I not notice that? A vampyre. Oh, my, goodness. Was that what I was to become? She didn’t look like she minded being a blood [removed] life stealer, but what information could I get off her? She looked like any old secretary/super model.
The room was decorated like it shouldn’t belong to, you know, the center of the supernatural universe. Hideous peachy salmon colored paint was plastered on the wall. You think the supernatural world would be a place of better taste, but apparently not in this particular ward.
There was no one else in the waiting room. Well, except my best friend Claire. She sat next to me, holding my hand and grinning through tears. I loved Claire (she and my sister were the only person in the world who understood me – notice the were) but was she crazy? This wasn’t a wedding. This was my destiny we were talking about.
Apparently, being immortal is a big deal. It’s quite honorable, being a creature of such high sophistication. Really, I didn’t care what the immortals did.
But I really did not want to be one of them. The thing is, Destined Fate Headquarters in run by all supernaturals, except for the mortal ambassador. They regulate the immortal world, training each new Apprentice.
Usually, you’re born with Potential or you aren’t. If you are, they take you from your family right then and there and place you in Training School. But I was not. So why was I here? I was “suspected of developing some unusual characteristics in a human”, is what they called it in the phone call we received.
But you don’t know is that-
“Genesis Warner?” the vampyre secretary called. “We are ready for you.”