Monsters

Asher - Age 15: Secrets

Mrs. Cougar, the Vampire instructor for the 10-12 grade students, stood before their third block species-specific class and tapped her lips, gazing at all of them critically. 

"I know you've practiced separately in intermediate school, but this year begins your first year of high school. You are bigger, stronger, and have better control of your powers than the younger teens. As you get older, you're going to need to be able to truly defend yourself. That is why, beginning this year, you will be sparring with partners." 

 Asher could have laughed at the frightened looks on the other kid's faces. All except Fallon who quite frankly was too busy staring at a scrawny Weildon girl to pay attention to the teacher. He seemed completely unconcerned with the idea of somebody trying to hit him. 

And Asher knew why. 

They'd only sparred with each other a few times throughout intermediate school--only enough to establish rank, with Asher easily at the top. Until Fallon had come to their school. 

Asher had worked damn hard to establish himself as the leader of this group, the one to be feared, the one to be respected--the one that would never have to cower. Meanwhile, Fallon simply grinned and walked through life unconcerned about anything but girls. 

And Fallon, the man whore, during his very first week in school, had soundly beat Asher in hand-to-hand combat. 

Fortunately, since Fallon was a Fantasy and not a Blood or a Nightmare not even their teacher knew what to do with the unexpected victory. A Fantasy could not be Dreadful. 

Because of that technicality Asher remained the reigning Dreadful. Still, it galled him that his underlings knew he could be defeated--and by a Fantasy no less. 

As if picking up on the death-glare Asher was sending Fallon, Mrs. Cougar announced, "From the transcripts I've seen, I'd like Asher and Fallon to be partners. Then, we'll have..." 

Asher didn't cared about the rest. He had another shot at beating the blond off the smiling idiot, and he intended to make the most of it. 

"Spread out," Mrs. Cougar commanded, weaving through the paired-off groups. "Oh, and you may use your powers." 

Asher grinned. Victory was in the bag, and lunch was served. 

"Don't be too cocky," Fallon muttered, eyes still lingering on the running Weildon girl. His eyes flashed to Asher's. "Sometimes a person's fantasy can be scarier to them than a nightmare." 

Asher snorted, "As if you know anything about nightmares." 

"You'd be surprised...or rather I suppose you will be. I've heard your specialty is memories." 

He'd heard right. The worst fears people had were often triggered from things they'd encountered in childhood. Primal fear tasted best, fueled him most. 

When he'd first discovered his need to feed from fear, Asher had tried to resist. He went so long between feeding, hating the fear he caused--all too reminded by his prey of his own past--that he'd gone into frenzy. He'd attacked Kirg of all people. Dimitri had had to pry him off and take him hunting. 

That's when Asher had discovered horror movies--a place people went because they actually wanted to be scared. It wasn't as filling as getting it from the source, but it didn't make him feel as guilty either.

However, when bringing his underlings to heel, causing fear somehow felt natural, necessary--like the pain experienced when a doctor had to pop a dislocated shoulder back in place. The pain might be intense, but it was temporary, and it was necessary to keep worse damage from being done. That's how Asher looked at it anyway.