Another? Another wishes to join us?
He does.
Shall he be allowed?
He's tried so hard. We couldn't possibly deny him.

'You're out of your freaking mind, you know that, right?' Marina told Jonathan.
Jonathan sighed deeply. She was obviously determined to puncture holes in his excitement. 'Min,' he told her, 'this is real. I'm bloody tell you, mate...these guys I found...'
'..."they're actual, honest-to-Christ vampires".' Marina couldn't help but finish for him. After all, he'd only repeated the phrase to her about ten times a day for the past week trying to engage her enthusiasm. Giving up (for the next half-hour, anyway), he went to sulk on his bed.
In actuality, it wasn't Marina's enthusiasm that was a problem, it was her belief. She just plain didn't believe that what Jonathan was saying was true. For as long as she'd known him, vampires had been Jon's obsession. His bedroom, where they both now were, was covered in books, role-playing material, videos, posters, model kits, comics...if it had to do with bloodsuckers, Jonathan had to have it. This fixation Marina had found a little odd, but she could think of far worse, so it never really bothered her.
It was recently, though, that Jonathan had gone overboard. Through connections of InterNet groups, or role-playing, or just a bizarre social life, he claimed to have met people who passed themselves off not just as vampire fanatics, but as real, live (well, undead, anyway) vampires. While still reasonably harmless (he showed little tendency to massacre young virgins, though this wouldn't have been much of a danger to Marina), since encountering these people, Jon had become...how could she put it? As boring as batshit.
Knowing that this meant that he wouldn't talk about anything else for the rest of the evening unless the novelty suddenly wore off, Marina made an exaggerated show of looking at her watch.
'Shit, look at that,' she mused, reading from the stopwatch display. 'I'd really better be going.'
He barely looked up from programming bits of the From Dusk Till Dawn soundtrack into his CD player. 'Um? Oh, OK. See ya.'
Marina, waved, unnoticed, and left.

Does he...know?
He knows exactly what we would wish he did.

Almost five hours later, Jonathan was scuffling down a street not far from the City Centre. It was childish of him to keep sulking like that on Marina, he knew that. If only he could make her see, though... this was much bigger than scoring a signed copy of Sunglasses After Dark or snapping up some hard-to-find comic... This was...this was it.
Maybe after tonight he would make her see differently. For tonight, he had been promised admittance into the society he'd found. He hadn't believed it either at first, much as he wanted to. It all seemed too good. That the pale figure he'd met after a freeform one night should actually be in line for more experience points than a storyteller could ever give? Impossible. But still...they'd talked (or rather, the other had talked, and Jon had gibbered), and Jonathan had deduced that this guy - not to mention his friends - must be the real deal.
Ha, Marina wouldn't roll her eyes so readily at him now. True, it would mean that they couldn't hang out in the daytime so much, but eighteen years of cultural immersion had taught him that the positive side would far outweigh that. Enhanced healing...great strength...even being psychic or who knew what else...yes, he was sure he could give up a few trips to the beach for that...
He arrived to find his usual 'contact' waiting for him. A thin man, who, despite appearing no older than Jon did, carried a cane, but, more importantly, had eyes that reflected centuries of vision. One or two of his...(soon to be my, Jon thought)...kindred, was the term Jonathan would use, stood nearby, but hung back.
'Good evening,' the vampire spoke, in a rather creaky voice.
'Hi,' Jonathan replied. He was answered with a questioning look. 'Yeah. I'm ready,' he said.
'Are you entirely sure?' came the response. 'What you wish I would do cannot be undone.'
'I know all that,' Jon replied. 'Come on, let's do it.'
Jonathan was barely aware of what the other did to the outside of his body next. All he knew about was what was happening inside it.
Pain.
Abject, searing pain.
It was as if every gland in his body was trying to explode, yet didn't have the power to make the final burst. His skin felt like it was trying to shrink and wither away, all the while remaining too strong to actually break. His senses still provided precious little input amongst the near-darkness and almost-silence, but even that was too much for the way his brain now felt like it may erupt. Every hair on his body was now a hot needle, burrowing its way into his skin. It wasn't long before he lacked the strength to continue even to support himself, and he collapsed to the ground.
The other stooped to him, almost toppling over himself in the process. 'So...' he choked, 'how do you like it so far?'
Jonathan struggled to speak. He'd never before known that a larynx needed so much energy to work. 'Wha'ss...happ...happe...'
'Happening? You've become like us. True, it might be a few millennia before you make it to my strength--'
'But...power...'
'Foolish puppy...what power?'
Jonathan could have wept, if he didn't think that shedding a single tear would take all the moisture he had left. 'Stories...legends...books...games...' he managed.
'Stories, yes. All fiction - put about by us, well, our kind. Try to think, Jonathan...if we were really that powerful, would we want everyone to know about it? No...I'm afraid it's all an elaborate ruse to cover the truth.' And he laughed. The laugh of one who has had no pleasure for close to an endless time, and expects to see no more for at least twice that again.
'Truhh...?'
'Vampires...are a very sick, frail, pitiful and weak people, Jonathan. And you've just become one of us.'

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