The Taste of Blood
Evening settled over the Academy, the sky turning purple. Marion slipped alone through the alleys of Parzipazio. Tobia and Manuel had returned to the dormitory, still giggling about the "cat dare." But Marion couldn't sleep; the burning in his chest wouldn't fade.
By the fountain, where water murmured softly in the dark, someone was waiting. A slender figure in black, hair like liquid fire in the lantern light.
Tessa.
"There you are," she said softly, her voice like a blade drawn across glass.
Marion froze. "Tessa…"
She stepped closer, golden eyes glowing faintly. Her lips curved into a small smile. "You smell like… cat."
Heat rushed to Marion's face. "It was… it was just a game. A dare. Manuel—"
The words spilled out of him. He told her everything: the bet, his hesitation, how the girl had finally kissed him herself.
Tessa listened silently, head slightly tilted. When he finished, she gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "So young. So foolish."
Marion lowered his gaze. "I didn't want to. It was wrong. But… I couldn't say no."
"No," she whispered, stepping so close he felt her breath. "You can never say no."
Her hand rose, fingers brushing his cheek. They were cold—yet a shiver ran through him, as if his heart had longed for that chill.
"You taste of guilt," she murmured. "And longing."
Marion met her glowing eyes. "Why… why do you always draw me to you?"
She smiled. "Because you want it."
Then she leaned in and kissed him. Not fleeting like the cat girl's kiss—but deep, demanding, filled with darkness.
Marion felt his knees weaken, heat flooding his body. Tessa…
And then he felt it: the sting. Her teeth at his neck. The pull. The burn as his blood flowed. He gasped, tried to resist—yet part of him wanted more.
The world blurred. His fingers clutched at her shoulders. He was caught between pain and ecstasy.
Darkness swallowed him.
His last thought: Tessa. Why… always you…
When he opened his eyes again, it was morning.
The sky was pale, birds singing as the sun rose above the walls. Marion lay on the cold stones by the fountain, mouth dry, neck sore. Alone.
His fingers touched his throat—two tiny punctures, reddened. But he breathed. His heart beat.
"I… I died," he whispered hoarsely. "And yet… I live."
He staggered to his feet, feeling cold in every vein. The taste of blood lingered on his tongue.
The truth dawned slowly:
He could not die. Not truly.
And Tessa knew it.
The Punishment
The next day, sunlight filled the Academy courtyard. Students sat on benches, playing with small flames or water illusions, whispering and laughing. It was the usual midday calm—until Manuel appeared, grinning broadly.
"Listen up!" he shouted, clapping his hands. "We need to settle something."
Marion, standing beside Tobia, felt heat rush to his face. Please not this…
Manuel stepped into the center of the courtyard like an actor on stage. "Yesterday there was a little dare. Our Marion wanted to kiss the kitten. But… he didn't manage. She had to do it for him, or we'd still be standing there."
Laughter broke out. Lukas and Basti slapped each other's hands.
"Hehehe, he got kissed!"
"Hahaha, the slave had more courage than him!"
Marion opened his mouth—but no words came. What could he say? That she had ended it out of control, not affection? That he had truly hesitated? Anything he said would only confirm his weakness.
So he stayed silent.
"And what was the deal?" Manuel continued triumphantly. "If you don't manage it, you do something really embarrassing. And I've got something perfect."
The crowd leaned forward eagerly. Near the fountain stood Tamara, daughter of a noble family, robe immaculate, copper hair shining. She glanced over curiously.
Manuel pointed at her. "Marion has to confess his eternal love to Tamara. Right here. Right now."
Laughter erupted.
"Go on, Marion!"
"Casanova!"
Marion's heart pounded wildly. He can't be serious… But Manuel grinned. Tobia nodded nervously. The crowd waited.
He could have shouted that it was unfair. That Manuel had twisted the deal. But deep down he knew: I would never have managed it. I didn't have the courage.
So, numb, he stepped into the center of the courtyard.
Tamara turned toward him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips curved in polite curiosity. "Yes?"
Every eye was on him. His face burned. His hands trembled. Laughter echoed at the edges—Lukas and Basti giggling, Manuel grinning.
"Tamara," he stammered, voice thin, "I… I wanted to tell you… that… that I love you."
Silence.
Then her friends giggled behind their hands. Tamara blinked in surprise—then laughed softly. Not cruelly, but incredulously.
"Oh… how sweet."
She tilted her head, studying him like a child who had handed her a crude drawing. "Thank you, Marion. But… I think you should keep dreaming. It suits you better."
The laughter exploded. Loud, merciless, from all sides. Manuel slapped his thighs. Tobia laughed nervously. Lukas and Basti nearly screamed with delight.
Marion stood frozen. His heart felt shattered.
Why… why am I always the joke?
He forced himself to lower his head and walked away without a word.
In the shadow of the courtyard, hidden from the stares, he leaned against the wall. Tears burned in his eyes—but he forced them back. Instead, he clenched his fists.
Manuel's Secret
The day at the Academy passed like any other. Lessons, snickering, Lukas and Basti's endless jokes, a few sparks crackling in the classroom. No one suspected anything.
Only Marion sensed that something was wrong.
After dinner, Manuel wasn't in the dining hall. Marion searched for him and finally found him behind the stables at the edge of the grounds, where the shadows stretched long. Manuel sat on an overturned barrel, shoulders shaking, hands buried in his face.
"Manuel?" Marion asked carefully.
Manuel looked up—his eyes red, his face blotched with tears. "She… she's dead."
Marion blinked. "Who?"
"The kitten," Manuel whispered hoarsely. "At my parents' house. They found her today. Behind the courtyard. There was blood everywhere. Like an animal… or a monster… tore her apart."
Marion froze. Images flashed through his mind: her gaze at the fountain, the kiss, her tail twitching as she lifted the bucket. Now—blood, death, silence.
"I… I'm sorry," he murmured.
Manuel shook his head, staring at the ground. "I… I don't know if it was my fault. I… I saw her again later." He swallowed hard. "I told her she was pretty."
He drew in a shaky breath. "And now… now she's dead. Maybe my parents saw. Maybe… they thought she was getting bold. Maybe they punished her. Until…" His voice broke.
Marion slowly sat down beside him, unsure what to say.
"I liked her," Manuel whispered so softly Marion almost didn't hear. "Maybe more than liked her. But… I couldn't show that. Not to anyone. So I just made jokes. Dumb comments. Like it was all a game. But it wasn't a game for me."
Tears ran down his face again. "And now she's gone. Because of me. Because I was too much of a coward."
Marion stayed silent. A cold feeling gnawed at him—guilt, pity, but also fear. If Manuel's parents really had done this, then it wasn't an accident. It was deliberate.
And Manuel—the loudmouthed joker who was always laughing—now looked like a broken boy who realized there was no going back.
"Don't tell anyone," Manuel begged hoarsely, grabbing Marion's sleeve. "Please. No one can know that I… that I liked her. They'll think it's my fault."
Marion nodded slowly. "I won't say anything."
But deep inside, he knew: Manuel would never escape this guilt.