Lured by the Moon

Letting the unconscious boy keep the jacket, the warmth of the fabric a soft barrier between him and the boy. Sebastian tried to take the knife from the tight clutch, like a butter stuck to its pan. With a smirk, "You can keep my jacket. In exchange, I'm taking your little knife."

Licking the last trace of dried blood that lingers on the edge of the knife.

It tastes completely bland and flavorless. Shaking his head as he sighed dramatically. I would never understand why my father drinks the blood of an animal. Animal blood tastes plain and dull, whereas human blood tastes far better—there's no words for it. Sebastian tucks the little knife into his pocket swiftly at the sound of the door opening, the footsteps entering the room with the door shut silently.

Looking into his father's eyes, who looks at him dubiously. "Are you going to help me out here?"

Giving a brief, insincere smile, where the false, flattery words drip from his lips. "Of course not; I wouldn't want to get in your way; the boy here is more important." Walking away as his father watched him with a careful look, then he took off his own jacket and placed it on the chair beside the medical table.

His father attempts to remove the jacket that was on the boy, but he furrows his brow after not being able to get the jacket off. He looks down as he realizes the boy is holding his son's jacket with a vice grip. Like a snake coiled around their victim.

Sebastian laughs at the sight. "Apologies, father. I think he's attached to my jacket." With an annoyed tone. "Well, the jackets need to go if you want me to help him."

Sebastian walks closer to them, where he watches his father trying not to use his full strength. Stopping before them, he grips the boy's thin wrist, so he would have no choice but to let go.

Although he scrunched his brow more than usual. The sweat on his face lingers, his face stuck in a scowling expression, like he would fight to death for the jacket if anyone tried to take it.

Although Sebastian thought the whole scene was hilarious, he needs to leave. If he wants to get rid of the body before his father notices his plan.

He needs to do it now.

At the painful grip, the boy was able to let go of the jacket as it fell onto the floor. Sebastian patted the boy's cheeks lightly, trying to calm him down since his body wouldn't be motionless like he'd hoped.

Hopefully, he won't cause any problems. Walking away with a smirking smile, he left pretentious words lingering in the air. "You're welcome; I'll see you later."

Sebastian walks out of the room, his stomach starting to feel ravenous for something. Walking in the kitchen, he opens the fridge, where plenty of blood bags could be seen. There are different types that come with different flavors, so he grabs his favorite one at the end of the shelf.

Titling his head up as the rich, tangly flow of the blood guzzled down his throat. It could have been better.

With a sigh, he dumps the bag into the trash can. Walking upstairs, heading toward his father's room. The whole place was silent and still, like nobody was home.

Though his father is working on the boy. Entering the room as quick and quietly as he could, the entire room surrounds him like a welcoming blanket of darkness, where not even a pitch of light could be seen. Except that he is not a human, so he could see in the dark, his vision bearing a resemblance to a bat's eyes, where everything is in view. Looking around, he could see the furniture, table, shelves with doctorate major and history books, and the bed in the middle. Walking closer to the table beside the bed, he opened each drawer, trying to figure out where his father usually hides the key. Sebastian wanted to scream in annoyance; he needs to hurry before he is discovered. At the last drawer, he hit something. It was sharp, smooth, and cold to the touch.

It was tiny, like the size of a 'fat' dime, so he pulled it out. With gleeful smile, he tucked the key into his pocket. Breathing lightly, he walks out of the room, then he is startled by his brother, who looks at him with a smirk.

Relaxing his shoulders, he narrows his eyes at his younger brother, Quinn, although the distain rolls off his tongue. "What do you want?"

Quinn smirks, so hauntingly akin to his smirk when he's planning something. It is no mystery why his father is about to lose his sanity. Or he has already lost his insanity; he is just better at hiding it.

Living with two sons who have no self-control can drive anyone crazy. Ignoring his brother, who is up to no good, he walks around him as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

Behind him, Quinn asks in a bored tone, "What are you doing today?" With a nonchalant tone. "None of your business." Quinn didn't go away like he hopes; he sighed in frustration, his brother following him down the stairs, like he was born to ruffle his feathers, testing his unending patience.

It is too bad I can't kill him. If I do end up killing him, my father is going to beat me black and blue.

Turning around, he asked with as much patience, although he couldn't hide it very well. "I will ask again. What the hell do you want?"

His brother narrowed his eyes, then crossed his arms with a bored expression. "I am bored."

"What does that have to do with me? Go bother some humans, or go play with our beloved sister?" Turning around again, hopefully Quinn will leave him alone.

I do not have time to babysit him.

Then he felt an arm wrapped around his shoulders, slowing him down. His eyes glares at Quinn; his brother spoke up before he could say anything. "Yo—"

"Listen to what I have to say. I know you're going to the morgue. I can help you."

His eyes are beaming at the sight of Sebastian's eyes widening in suspicion, he asked. "How did you know?"