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“Uh, like, I didn’t hate him for four hundred years.” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Justin said, looking up from my boobs. “I just meant, like, it’s been a long time.”

“Well, yeah, he existed a long time ago, but I haven’t hated him all four hundred years. At most I could hate him for, like, nineteen years.” I said.

“Right, right, my bad.” This time Justin lingered on my boobs an extra few seconds.

“Anyway,” I said. “It makes me sad to learn about, the way women were treated in the past.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, practically drooling. “Forsure, super upsetting. I agree.”

“It’s just so frustrating, knowing how many people still agree with this shit.” I said.

“Yeah,” He said. “Gross.”

Silence passed for a time.

“So, uh,” He said, eyes glued to my boobs. “You maybe wanna see a movie later tonight?”

“I’m okay, busy tonight, I’d be down to another night, though.” I said.

“Oh, no worries.” He said.

After another bout of silence he began getting up.

“Well,” He said. “I don’t wanna keep you… see you in class.”

He put on his jacket and left.

I'm sitting down at a large dining table, eating with Scarlett and her dad, Drain. "You feeling comfortable over there?" Drain chuckles.

I smile slyly. "Could be worse." Drain has a very strong distrust of humans, whereas Scarlett wants a human as her boyfriend. The solution was to make sure I was under Scarlett's control, which she was more than happy about. I'm forced to wear things from Drain's 'anti-human gear' collection, including a chastity belt, which Scarlett has the key for, and a 'body guard', which is basically a thin metal plate that covers my chest, stomach and back. It's very lightweight, quite comfortable to wear due to being soft inside, and made of an aluminium alloy on the outside to protect my 'fragile body', as Drain says, and also to reflect heat.

The catch? It's controlled from a remote. The soft material can switch to thousands of tiny needles. The material can also be set to 'massage' me, literally OR in a way I'm being tickled. The guard being electrified also means I can be zapped without warning. I wouldn't have even TOUCHED this thing if I didn't trust Scarlett.

I'm also wearing something on my wrists - 'cuff bracelets' I believe. Scarlett can attach a 'leash' onto them. She said she'd hold my hand when she does it so people don't see, but it DOES mean that if I try to run, people would notice... and I wouldn't get far.

Lastly, on my upper arm, a 'blood pump' is attached. The idea is there's a button on it, which, when pushed, a needle will draw blood until a small, discreet vial is filled. Scarlett can then remove the vial and drink the blood. It's actually fairly painless, and at least I don't need to be bitten.

Drain nods. "You certainly could be. You've seen humans kept as 'blood tanks', at least you have your freedom."

"Not really" I grin, showing I mean it as a joke.

Scarlett playfully pinches my arm. "Don't worry Gavie, I won't stop you from having fun!"

I giggle slightly. "Gavie?"

"Don't like that?" Scarlett seems disappointed.

I look at Drain. He's maintaining a neutral expression. I decide I can be honest. "I don't HATE it, but I do prefer to just be called 'Gavin'."

I glance at Drain again. His expression has barely changed, the tiny smirk barely noticeable. I wonder for a moment if I'm in trouble, but Scarlett nods and smiles. "Ok, Gavin." She leans in to kiss me. Ok, that's what the smirk was for.

"I have to say, son, I never thought I could trust another human after what happened 400 years ago... but you're seeming more and more genuine."

I smile shyly at Drain. "Thank you, sir, I- wait, 400 years?"

"Yes" he states firmly. "I was once amongst your kind, believe it or not. I remind Scarlett about her mum as something she can relate to regarding humans, but I never trusted them again after being betrayed by one of you... 400 years ago..."

I just blink at him. "400 years… that’s a long time to hate someone... what on earth happened?"

Drain screws his eyes shut, sighs heavily, then nods and opens his eyes, fixing his gaze on me. "Very well, I'll tell you, but it's not pretty..."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

This story is a part of my series, My Roommate is a Vampire. Please check it out!

"pshhhh, don't act like you wouldn't feel the same." I said.

"I wouldn't." Tom said.

"Not even Zach?" I placed a hand on my hip.

"I don't hate Zach." Tom folded his arms.

"Yeah, anymore. When you were done with him even the galactic police couldn't identify the remains."

"So?'

"So if you pulverized his body so badly that it couldn't be identified I think you would've held a grudge for at minimum of 400 years If you never had that opportunity."

"I don't think so, but then again. I guess we'll never really know." Tom grinned at me.

"So are you helping me or not?"

Tom sighed. "Whats in it for me?"

"50,000 galactic credits." I said and toms eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"50,000?! You must be out of your mind, it was a pudding cup. One pudding cup!"

"That pudding cup, my friend. WAS THE LAST PUDDING CUP MADE WITH THE OLD EARTH RECIPE! I was going to analyze it so I could remake it because the recipe was lost and I love that damn recipe! This isn't just for me, This is for the galactic empire! He stole that pudding from all of us! That creamy succulent pudding that I so loved, Jerry will go to the deepest depths of hell once I'm finished with him! He will never steal from another lunch bucket again!"

"If you weren't going to eat it why was it in your lunch bucket?"

"I wasn't going to eat all of it, I only needed a small amount for analysis. But you know what that sick son of a bitch did? HE LICKED THE CUP CLEAN! Every morsel was gone and now we have the worst reality in the multiverse. One where good pudding does not exist." I clutched the edge of the table and leaned over to catch my breath. I hated explaining these things to people, they never understood.

"You need some serious help." Tom said.

"Enough! Are you with me, or are you against me?"

Tom shrugged. "I'll humor you. Lets go."

I picked Tom's unopened beer can up off the table and shotgunned it. "Hell yeah, lets do this." I turned to see Tom wore a horrified expression.

"THAT WAS THE LAST DOUBLE SPRITZ GINGERBREAD CINNAMON MAN HAZELNUT DOUBLE DARK CHOCOLATE IPA BEER IN EXISTENCE! I WILL KILL YOU FOR THAT!"

The soul gem glistened in the steady light of my laboratory. It hovered between a pair of prongs, one over the top, the other below. As I watched a faint bolt of energy lashed out, collected by the uppermost prong. I often fancied that if I listened I could hear its inhabitants begging for release.

"Vasun, are you in here?"

I turned towards the door, waving a hand. The bones of my hand gave a subtle rattle, as the stone door slowly swung open. Behind it I saw the lithe form of Bazzix, the dark elf who had decided to become my assistant.

"What can I do for you?"

He stepped in, clutching a bundle of scrolls in his arms. I clicked, lifting them up to relieve him of his burden.

"I finished translating those old scrolls for you. Most seem to be merely day to day records, but the one with the blue ribbon seems to be an ancient spell."

I nodded, unfurling them. A quick glance showed me that they looked complete, but I wouldn't be sure until I closely examined them. With a gesture they floated to one of my workbenches, with the spell separated out. As I moved them, I noticed his eyes focusing on the black gem behind me.

"I've been wanting to ask you, what is that?"

I smiled. We had an agreement, that after he completed a task, I would answer one question. Of course it wasn't that I didn't answer any other time, but these were always ones that I would be as informative as possible on.

"Ah. That, that is a soul gem. A very rare, not to mention expensive, item in this world. They are more common in the Torturous Layers, where recently departed souls are examined. Thise that end up in them are condemned to serve as an eternal battery."

He looked closer at it, seeing the same bolts I did.

"So... is it full?"

I gave a laugh.

"Oh no. It still has plenty of room. I use it for those who betray me, which hasn't happened in a long time. It is the ultimate prison for those I hate, forced to serve. In fact, most are about... oooh four hundred years old."

Bazzix looked sharply at me, eyes filled with his glorious curiosity.

"Four hundred years? That's a long time to hate someone. Who was it?"

If I had any face at all it would have dropped into a frown. Even so, he shifted uncomfortably at my change in mood, good humour falling away.

"That would be the group that told me to become this, then stabbed me in the back after the threat was eliminated. I lost everything because of them. My home, my family, my friends, my life. All gone because of them. I am forever damned, it is only fitting they serve me before my time is up."

I snapped my fingers again, making it disappear from sight. Bazzix twitched, and I crossed my arms.

"That is all I will say on the matter. Now, let's see just what this spell is meant to do."

Empires rise and fall, people come and go, but I'll never forget your face, what you did to me, for those 400 years I have harboured my hatred for you, every little thing you did only serve to increase my growing urge to decimate you.

When you took the last strawberry shortcake from the fridge, I looked the other way, silently seething and cursing your bloodline as you chow down on the pastry.

When you stepped on my shoes, "Sorry." you said, I smiled and replied "Don't worry about it." even though deep down I wished for your demise.

Every small, petty, however insignificant mistake only makes me angrier, stronger even.

For 400 years you kept doing it, those same mistakes, those same slights that makes me madder and madder every passing era.

When you stepped on my foot in the trenches during the battle for Yorktown.

When you accused me of being a British spy in the first cabinet meeting.

When you almost shot me during our 50th duel, this time with flintlocks instead of bows.

I hate you so god damn much. When I attend Harvard, I thought that would be the best part of my long-lasting infinite life, a chance to gain more knowledge, a chance to finally be away from YOU.

But what did I see when I entered my dorm for the first time? Your stupid visage looking back at me with widened eyes, and a shit-eating grin on your face.

Somehow the stars aligned, and I've been assigned as your roommate.

Sometimes I wish you'd just up and di-

"Ryan, what are you writing?"

"My growing hatred for you knows no bounds."

"Look dude, if it's the whole trench thing, I already apologized."

"Your death would do wonders for my mental health."

"Let me see that-" Ryan snatched the journal out of my hands, another slight added to the list.

"You've been documenting all of my actions?" He drops the journal in shock, ruining my property? That's another slight.

"Yes."

"You consider 'stealing your position as a factory worker for the Model T' a slight that's worthy of crucifixion?"

"That was supposed to be my job."

"Ok dude, how about this one, 'killing Hitler before I did.', how the hell was that a slight against you? I didn't even kill him!"

"That was supposed to be my glory."

"He killed himself!"

"Still supposed to be my glory."

"Y'know what? I'm not dealing with this right now." He walks away, that bastard, I pick up my journal and continue writing. Two more slights added, only a matter of time before he finally meets his end at my hands.

If it's 500 more years, I'm willing to wait for it.

"That's a Hamilton reference!"

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

"It makes me wonder if it's just hate." Alistair grinned, eyes locked on mine, ever-knowing. Ever-insufferable.

I leaned heavily against the metallic railing, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "What's that supposed to mean?" As if I didn't know the answer.

"I know your history with him, Josh. Brothers-in-arms to a lover." She said. "Ever heard of the saying 'the deeper the love, the deeper the hate?'"

"I don't pay attention to bullshit."

She only grew more amused. "You're the only person he spares, and he's the only person you don't talk glib about."

"So you're a writer now?" Tone too sharp. Softer. Don't let her get to you. Countless have tried. She can't be the one who succeeds. "By your logic, the reason I don't 'talk glib' about him is because I hate him too much to bother sugarcoating it. And as for him.." I burn the hope that was about to lace my words. "It's because he hates me enough that he wants me to see how much he'll torment me alive."

She stared at me and sighed. "There's no winning this, is there?"

I'm glad you know.