Kristoph turned the corner that led into the vampire’s study.  The man’s deep auburn iris grew as his pupil ran in terror from the fireplaces’ cruel light.  The room was well embellished with beautiful antiques, and towering bookcases that, even though they reached the floor, threatened to spill onto the tidy room in a tidal wave of literature.  However, despite being the only room in the towering old house this well furnished, Kristoph knew that the man who the house belonged to only entered the room when faced with an especially difficult conundrum.
Soundlessly Kristoph had stridden behind the hulking green-upholstered antique chair that sat just to the right of the room facing the burning hearth.  Though the back of the chair faced him, and it seemed no life was evident in the room, the man knew who sat just around the other side.  
In a moment Kristoph’s demeanor seemed to shrink into that of his child self as the chair stretched towards the ceiling, and his eyes intensely bored holes into the fabric.  His now small frame shuddered in genuine terror as if an unfathomable creature lurked just around the wooden frame, waiting to spring eagerly upon him and feast upon his still beating heart.
“An-Ancelin?” Kristoph spoke his voice faltering, failing him, as it passed through his dry mouth. While the name had passed his mouth a mere ghost of a whisper, his throat grew raw, salty, as if he had howled it.  Silence fell upon the room as the various crevices in the room devoured his voice, and the previous stillness plagued the room once more with earth shattering tension.  Before the brown-eyed man’s heart had time to beat once more, he found himself looking into the eyes of the man whose name he had just called.
“I apologize Kristoph.”  A charming wide grin splayed itself across the other man’s unearthly spectral skin, “You must be quite famished.”
“Uhm . . .Urh-yeah. I guess.” The other man stammered, bewildered, as he always was, by his companions wide cobalt hued eyes.
“Very well then.” Ancelin began, his voice, though casual, laced with silken eloquence. “Shall we be going now Kristoph?”
Kristoph felt his spine flinch as a shiver slithered down it.  He detested, and loved the way his name lulled off Ancelin’s graceful tongue.  Hastily he shook off the odd sensation and nodded to Ancelin.