Chapter Summary: After revealing himself to Thatch Casper wants many of his questions answered. Thatch decides there's no point in hiding it from the ghost, so he tells Casper about his past and family.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Casper quickly said, holding his hands up, as if that would help the situation. It only made Casper look even more guilty in this situation.

"W-why... how- you followed me? Casper what the hell!" The vampire yelled, a hand over his chest as if to try to calm his 'pounding' heart. Casper wasn't sure vampires had heartbeats- but the ghost swore he could feel his at times even if he technically had no heart or any organs for that matter.

"I'm so so sorry, please listen-"

"No, hide!" The vampire quickly started to push Casper. "Under my bed or something, go go go!" He hissed. Casper just managed to get under Thatch's bed when his mother came rushing into the room, an apron still tied around her with flour lightly dusting it.

"Thatch, baby I heard you scream!" She rushed over, wrapping her arms around her child as her eyes scanned the room. "What's the matter, why'd you scream? Did you get hurt?" Thatch clung naturally to his mom, snuggling into her arms like a needy child.

"I'm sorry I, uh... I started to doze off and... I was just..." Thatch couldn't really think of a lie, but from the look on his mom's face Thatch knew she was jumping ahead and guessing at what he was thinking. It pained him to see that was always the first thing to come to mind.

"It's ok... As you said, the magical wall is up. They'll never find us again." She softly whispered. She kept him close to her bosom, brushing his black and white hair back, smiling down at him. "You remind me so much of your father..." She softly whispered.

"I look more like you," the batboy smiled sheepishly. His mother only shook her head and smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry to have scared you, I'll be ok now."

"If you say so..." She was slow to let go, clearly missing her darling baby boy. "I'll get back to cooking, it'll be done soon." She stood up, dusting off the front of her gown. Thatch smiled and waved, watching nervously as his mother left once more. The second the door shut he hissed and turned back to the bed.

"Casper!" He harshly whispered. The ghost boy nervously came out, offering a small smile.

"I can explain." He started carefully. When Thatch didn't speak Casper continued. "The second you left the room Slither got really, really aggressive and well... He said something and I just... I got mad Thatch, I'll admit it. I didn't really mean to follow you all the way here, but there was just never a good time to come out and tell you I was here." The ghost carefully spoke, nervously hovering right above the floor as he wrung his hands together, his blue eyes darting around the room. "I overheard a bunch of stuff I shouldn't have, I'm so sorry."

Thatch calmly listened, a deep frown on his face. What was done couldn't be changed now, best make the best of the situation, so Thatch sighed heavily. "Fine fine, ok I can work with this." He muttered mostly to himself. "You just gotta keep your stupid mouth shut." He hissed dangerously. "Let anyone find out about this place and I will hurt you, or your dumb friends!"

Now that was a serious threat. Sure Thatch couldn't really hurt Casper, but Ra and Mantha were solid monsters- they could get hurt. Casper was quick to nod in agreement. He never had planned on telling anyone this anyways. He liked the fact that he had Thatch's secrets- and he hoped to know more than that stupid Slither. It was really bugging the ghost boy that Slither acted as he knew so much about Thatch. Was this the thing Slither knew about?

The secret house, his lonely mother, empty hallways and something about the humans in the past... Casper wanted to know.

"Thatch... What happened to your dad?" He worded carefully. Thatch frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing.

"You don't need to know such things, ghost boy."

"Thatch I thought we were friends, can't you talk to me?"

"Friends, ha! When did we become friends?" He questioned the ever trusting ghost. Casper paused, trying to think back and decide when Casper wanted to label Thatch as a friend.

"When you accepted my help, back in the forest... You trusted me back then, you can trust me now. I'm still the same ghost." Casper smiled and moved forward, and to prove his point he held his arms open to the vampire; similar to what he did back in the forest when Thatch had been crying his horrid acid tears. "I trust you Thatch, and you can trust me. We're friends, aren't we?" He asked, wanting a sure answer from the vampire.

Slowly but surely, Casper was wiggling his way into Thatch's heart.

The vampire was allowing it to happen.

Thatch sighed softly and moved forward, carefully wrapping his arms around the ghost and hugging him, a small smile finding its way to his lips. "Ok fine, fine, sure," the vampire softly laughed. "We just gotta keep you hidden from mom. She doesn't like guests." He explained, but he still did not let go of the ghost. Casper was perfectly fine with that as he rested his head on Thatch's shoulder, just enjoying their closeness.

Ha, take that Slither.

"Tonight I can walk with you in the garden, it's very lovely." Thatch claimed. Casper tried not to make a face. Lovely? It had looked all rotten and dead when they came in- did the vampire not notice? But he didn't want to hurt Thatch's feelings, so he just nodded in agreement.

The rest of the time passed nicely, peacefully. When dinner came Casper stayed in Thatch's room while the vampire went to go eat with his mother. Thatch didn't return until a few hours later- which had worried the ghost only a small bit. Thatch had just been spending time with his dear mother, so all was ok.

"She's off to bed. Come on, let's go." Thatch smiled and offered his hand to the ghost boy, who took it without question. As they walked in the sprawling halls Casper kept glancing at the covered paintings, curiosity itching. "Don't bother with those," the monster of the night warned the ghost. "They're not important."

"But then, why are they covered?"

"Mom doesn't want to see them. Breaks her heart." He explained calmly. Thatch's words only made the ghost want to look more, but this was not the time for such things.

"So, is this really your home?"

"Yeah. Was born in these walls actually. Mom and dad couldn't go into town to see the doctor so they had to make do with the castle staff."

"...Staff?"

"Well yeah, you think my parents could have tended to this place in its prime? Mom said we had dozens of maids and butlers. At least 10 cooks and 50 gardeners!" That was probably an exaggeration, but that was ok. Casper got the point- his family was hella rich and lived in a big fancy castle.

"So what happened?" He pressed.

"We'll talk in the garden." Thatch said simply as he went to the large oak doors at the front of the house. There was no key or lock, just a large, heavy plank that held the doors shut. Thatch let Casper go and put his hands on the underside of the thick plank, planting his feet firmly and pushed up. The vampire was barely able to lift it out of its holdings, and the second it was out he let it go. It clattered harshly to the floor, actually breaking. Thatch didn't seem to mind it.

"We needed a new lock anyways." He muttered. "Not as annoying as this." He stepped over the plank and pushed the door open. Casper watched in confusion though. He read in his books vampires were crazy strong, but from what he just saw Thatch was barely stronger than a human!

"Um..." Casper glanced back at the plank.

"It's fine. I know a monster in the underworld that can do anything for the right price. I'll have him install a real lock. These aren't the original doors." He explained simply. "They were a rushed replacement, we never got back to putting in proper ones." Thatch then turned and walked down the stone path. In the moonlight, it was like everything changed. Besides the flowerbeds, everything was coming to life.

"Mom is sad about her flowers dying, but honestly they're human flowers- they were bound to die." He noted as he looked at the pitiful dead flowers. Everything else seemed perfect. The trees were suddenly full of life, their silver leaves almost glowing in the night.

The broken fountain was fixed and had water flowing down its sides. It was such a sight, the water giving off a gentle mist that swept over the grass. It was eerie but all the more enchanting.

"Whoa... Thatch, what happened? This place was... so dead before." Casper muttered.

"It's the enchantments my dad made." He explained. "See even if that barrier hides the house, anything can pass by it so, in the day, this place is supposed to look dead and abandoned. No one wants to explore a castle in ruins. At night is when everything comes to life. The forest gets deadly at night, witches and the like roaming around. Scares the fleshies off." Thatch waved the thought off. "Come on, my favorite spot is around back." He grinned. Thatch started to run, and Casper swiftly followed. The old overgrown path that leads to the servant door was a beautiful brick path with potted flowers along the side. Thatch passed by the servant door, running all the way to the back of the house. Back there was a lovely pond, the water reflecting the moonlight that poured over the house, basking it in such a silver glow. Thatch grinned and went over to the pond's edge. In the water were beautiful fish of bright vibrant colors, just swimming around lazily. Around the back of the pond were dozens upon dozens of rose bushes, all in full bloom.

"Mom helped me plant those." He said proudly as he looked at the roses. "They've grown so well, I honestly didn't think they would bloom this year. Mom said the winter was just terrible." He explained. Casper gently smiled as he looked around the breathtaking garden. So this was the life of a vampire? Or, at least the life of Thatch. It was simply amazing.

"Thatch, this is so beautiful," the ghost smiled at the vampire, feeling his nonexistent heart pounding away in his chest. The vampire was so enchanting. Everything he did seemed so perfect, so well thought out and planned. Casper would feel himself sinking deeper into his emotions. Soon he would have no escape from them.

Thatch gently smiled and held Casper's hand tightly, his violet eyes soaking in the beautifully familiar sight before him. "I missed this place... But I wish I could remember it in its prime... My first memory of this place is one I never want to remember, but I know I can't forget it... I'll answer your question now." The vampire sat down by the pond's edge, unclasping his cloak and setting it beside him on the soft grass. He removed his socks and shoes, letting his feet rest in the cool water which startled the fish to the other side of the pond for now. Casper sat beside the vampire and let his feet also rest in the water, shyly smiling.

"This will answer a lot of questions... I wonder if our game will even continue after this."

"I think it will." Casper smiled and leaned over, resting his head on the vampire's shoulder. "I think our game will go for a very long time."

"If you think so, marshmallow boy."

~~~

It had been so peaceful that night. Thatch was snuggled into his mother's arms as she read him a book. He didn't remember what it was. It had something to do with some female hero saving China- wherever that was. He just remembered the pretty pictures in the book. He knew his father was up in his tower, working away on his experiments. He always wanted to walk in the sunlight again, and so he worked endlessly on his dream.

It was right before his bedtime, the sun had set and everything was settling down in the lovely castle. The maids were cleaning up after the party in the ballroom for every year they had a private celebration on this day, their turning day- or at least his parents. The start of their new lives, a turning of a new page. They always told the story about how nice it was to be turned, how his father was turned by a kind vampire passing by- and upon having the epiphany he rushed home to his pregnant mother, declaring his love to her before she allowed him to turn her into the creature of the night as well.

Thatch always loved that story, knowing that his parents loved each other so much they simply could not be without the other- willing to change their whole lives just to assure they would live on. They always said they were each other's other halves. Thatch thought it was the best love story he had ever heard...

The trouble all started when a maid, one of his mother's personal thralls, (and his favorite), came running in. Well actually, she wasn't a thrall anymore. None of the bitten servants were a real 'thrall' for more than a minute, even if they still carried the title of 'thrall. They were bitten then released from his parent's control almost immediately. His parents were against slavery- Thatch knew that well enough. The only reason the fleshies were bitten in the first place was to give them a higher status- it was a reward to be bitten and fed off of within these walls.

All their servants were plucked off the street- abandoned and left to starve and die with no family and no one to care for them. So his parents were more than happy to bring them in, tend to their health and make sure they lied. Most stayed to serve in the castle- they had nowhere else to go anyways.

Every servant had their own bed and only had to share a room with one other servant of the same gender. His mother assured them they were all healthy and fed three meals a day. No one was forced to stay and serve them, which made for a very caring relationship between the vampires and their loyal servants.

This former thrall still had a broom in hand and she seemed completely out of breath, her chest heaving despite the tight corset all the maids were required to wear as part of their uniformed look.

Ah the uniform, Thatch was always fond of their uniforms- which required their necks to be exposed. The former thralls had the scars of their first bite- forever marking them. It was just two small circles from where the fangs pierced their flesh. The marks were ones to be of honor among the servants. Any servant with an unbitten neck was of lower status and had to obey the thralls. Becoming a thrall required a lot of work as well. When bitting someone the vampires are at their weakest, so it required great trust between the vampire and servant.

"My lady! My lady, the people from the nearby village, they're marching this way!" Crystal warned. "They carry torches, spears, and swords... And at their front is a priest." She tentatively spoke.

"Pull the bridge up, shut all the gates. Summon everyone inside and lock the doors, board the windows. This is no big deal, we can fight this." His mother had spoken with such certainty to Crystal- her favored thrall. Thatch could only smile and reach up, clinging to his mother with such innocent fondness.

"Ma, shall we go to dad?" He asked childishly, having trouble speaking with his sharp teeth. Just earlier that day he had bit his tongue while eating some strawberries after his cup of blood- willingly given by the head butler- who was a thrall of his father.

"Oh, honey... how about you go to him, hmm? I'll be helping the servants." She sweetly smiled and set him down. "Run my little bat-boy." She cooed.

"Madam Manora!" The Head Butler said urgently as he came in, his wrist still bandaged from the blood given earlier that day. Thatch didn't listen to the rest of it. He just ran out of the room, moving his tiny legs down the long halls, heading for his dad's personal tower. The torches on the side of the walls were all lit, bringing a golden glow to the castle. The paintings were well kept, all new with their golden frames. Pictures of his dad and his parents, then the same for his mom and her parents. Dear family and friends. Even some of their servants that have passed over the years. All servants were like family, and those who passed away were honored as close as any family member. They were buried in the family's personal graveyard, a mile further into the forest.

Thatch actually saw them as a family- they always treated him well and snuck him sweets even after his bedtime. He was the little prince of the house, that's what they said. Sure his parents weren't royalty, but they might as well be. The village nearby thrived off of his father's work and experiments. Medicine to cure the ill, inventions to make life so much easier for the poor humans. Everything had been so perfect.

Thatch didn't know what a priest was, or why the village was coming. It wasn't time for their big fancy ball. The only ball they had was in the winter, and this certainly was not winter time! Spring was here, and his mother's flowers were just about to bloom in the next few days. Plus the village was never invited to the turning day party, it was always a quiet event for the people within the castle walls. So they couldn't be here for that either- that party ended a while ago anyway.

Thatch did remember those big winter balls fondly. The pretty dresses and finely dressed gentlemen. It was a very strict occasion though. The servants would dress in their best and take his parent's private carriages out, at least two dozen of them with their entire collection of well-trained horses, who were often tended to by a well paid local farmer.

The servants would ride all the way into town and pick the commoners up in the big fancy carriages, assuring there were no weapons and everyone looked their best. Sometimes the maids even helped the ladies with her makeup from time to time. No one wanted to look bad at these events, after all, they were a time to always be remembered.

Once the commoners were in the carriage the curtains were pulled shut over the windows, and they were told to never peer outside or else... Thatch never knew what the exact threat was- but no commoner ever peaked out of the carriage while it was in motion. Sometimes the servants would go off the trail in the forest, riding around for a few extra minutes just to assure no one would be able to track the time it took to get to the castle. His parents were so strict about this. Yes, the rules were strict, but his parents said it was for protection and the villagers didn't mind it too much, for they dined nicely at every grand ball- so who were they to complain?

Thatch always had such fond memories, but now wasn't the time to be thinking of that... The small vampire child started to climb the spiral stairs, softly whining as he kept looking ahead. He hated all these stairs. He glanced behind him, and upon seeing not a single person was following him he smiled.

Ok sure, he wasn't allowed to do this, but he wanted to! Sure he always crashed and got hurt, or broke something but he loved the thought of soaring through the air like he sometimes saw his parents do. When his parents thought he was asleep they would go outside and take the forms of bats, performing their lovely dance in the moonlight. It was so pretty and Thatch wanted to do it as well!

He took a deep breath and concentrated, trying really hard. Sure enough, he took the form of the smallest bat ever. He fell onto the cold steps, forgetting to flap his wings at first. The cold stone snapped him awake- seeing how he had been dozing off in his mother's arms just before.

He started to flap his wings, trying to move them as fast as he could. Slowly he started to lift off the ground much to his pure delight! He then started to fly up the staircase, just over the stairs. With every move of his wings, he could still feel the stone under him- but that was fine. Last time he tried to fly up too high he got scared and changed back mid-flight, spraining his poor ankle. He was in bed for what seemed like forever to a child. At least the Head Butler was kind and snuck him some treats while he was bedridden, and the maids read books to him as often as he wanted!

He didn't know how long it took, but soon he was in his dad's lab. When he reached the top step he changed back- and had a misstep which caused him to fall flat on his face. He started to cry, feeling the throbbing pain in his oversized fangs.

He heard some naughty word- something his mom said never to repeat come from his father. He slowly sat up, trying to rub the tears out of his eyes as his dad came to his side and kneeled down beside the smaller vampire.

"Shh, shh it's ok." He spoke ever so soothing, his accent heavy and comforting. His father lifted the small child, holding him like he was a glass doll. "You know you're not supposed to fly, but I suppose you did a good job. You make me so proud." He whispered, but Thatch could tell his dad was distracted. It took a bit for Thatch to realize what was wrong. All the lights in his dad's lab were out, but there was still light. Not the gentle light of the moon, but a piercing glow of the fire.

Thatch clutched to his dad's shirt, his cries stopped as he simply no longer felt the pain at all in his fangs, he was worried more about the scary glow that was coming in from outside. "Dad?" He whispered softly.

"It's ok Thatch, they can't get in." He smiled, his red-colored eyes watching his sweet child. Thatch only felt comfort as he gazed up at his dad, gently smiling.

"Why are they here?"

"I don't know... I just don't know." Thatch believed every word.

As his father set him down the angry yells of the villagers could be heard. Thatch walked over to the balcony doors, resting his hand on the glass and pushing the double doors open. He walked out onto the balcony and looked down upon his dear home. He could see the villagers at the gates. They were throwing spears at the gate- which did nothing.

But then Thatch saw them carrying long, long logs. Trees they had cut down and sawed all the branches off. They were starting to place them just across the moat. There was just enough room between the moat and the castle walls to support the end of the logs. Some of the skinnier villagers were crossing on the logs, trying to get to the controls of the bridge so they can bring it down.

"Dad, they're getting in!" He called back into the lab. He turned to look into the lab, seeing his father hurriedly moving things around. He was putting papers on his desk, pushing the chalkboard into the corner so it wasn't in the way.

"I doubt they are, this place is well defended."

"They made a bridge!"

"... What?" His dad replied coldly. He walked out onto the balcony, the night wind blowing harshly from so high up on the tower. Thatch smiled and watched his dear father. He looked so awesome, like those kings and princes in all those storybooks! His cloak was flowing in the open air, his normally slicked back hair looser and moving in the wind- having lost its shape from how many times he ran his fingers through it. It was a nervous tick his dad had. Mom always said it was adorable.

"Oh no..." Was all his dad whispered, watching as the drawbridge came down, allowing the villagers to march into the castle gates. "Clementine..." Thatch always thought it was weird when his dad and mom called each other by their names- but he supposed that's how it was supposed to be. Dad had always told Thatch his mom's name was beautiful and perfect for her. It meant something like mild and merciful. Maybe that's why his mom always forgave him when he accidentally messed up?

"Dad? Is mom ok?" Thatch whimpered, running up to his dad's legs, clinging to them tightly. The small child could feel his dad was tense, but he felt so protected by his side, the cloak almost wrapping around him as well as his father. He felt such comfort here- but it could only do so much.

He was hearing screams of panic, pain, and hate. Pain and panic from his family- the servants. He didn't want to know what was happening, but the hateful yells were filling the air, hurting his ears. "Dad!" Thatch cried softly.

His father leaned down and lifted Thatch up, holding him tightly as he started to rush down the spiral stairs. "We need to get to your mother!" He said swiftly, resting one hand on the cool, stone wall to keep his balance as he ran down the stairs. The other kept Thatch close to his chest. The small vampire, in turn, clung to his dad's chest, his eyes on the bat clasp that kept his dad's favorite cloak on.

Was it because they were different? What was wrong with being different? Ok so they had sharp teeth, so what? Yeah, they liked the color black- it was soothing. Sure they drank blood, it was the best way to get their nutrition. The servants didn't mind giving it so what was the big deal?! And course his daddy wore a cloak, it looked epic! Plus, who didn't like bats anyways?

"Daddy, one of the maids said there is a priest? What's that?"

"Not now, Thatch. Keep your head down." He ordered as they reached the bottom. Thatch clung tightly but did not heed his order. His wide, pure innocent eyes looked down the hall, seeing the slaughter. Their servants were in a panic, some fleeing and some fighting.

Villagers with torches and pitchforks were attacking. Thatch could see Crystal, the one that had warned them of the intruders, laying on the ground, her eyes having no life to them. A pitchfork was sticking out of her chest, blood soaking her once pretty uniform. He could only see her dead eyes looking directly at them, her hand still outreached as if she was trying to warn them still.

Run.

Thatch didn't see much else, his father ducked down into the connecting hall and ran, screaming his mother's name. It was unsettling to hear his dad raise his voice, let alone be screaming.

"Vincent!" His mother called out, she was in the library, and behind her were several maids, all clutching to each other in fear.

"Oh, thank the stars above..." His father whispered to himself as he hurried over. He wrapped his free arm around his wife's hips, pulling her close. She hugged to him and Thatch, giving them both kisses.

"My sweet boys... we must flee, now! They set the lounge on fire, it will spread."

"The walls are made of stone, they will last-"

"We cannot stay! Vincent, Thatch cannot survive the flames! He is but a child." She pleaded. His father nodded quickly, his gaze going over to the maids.

"The servant halls, we can escape through them."

"Wait, what about home?" Thatch whimpered softly. "Daddy? Are we really leaving?"

"Yes little bat, we're leaving but only until the flames die down." He sadly spoke. It was then that Thatch could smell the smoke. The fire's glow was starting to reach down the halls, the smoke rising and filling the air. It smelled awful. The flames were eating the long draping curtains, the glowing fire growing and reaching all the way from floor to ceiling as it continues to engulf the castle. Vincent moved his cloak to cover Thatch more, which made the child grateful. It helped block out the awful smell.

He stayed there, clinging to his father as he, his mother and the remaining servants used one of the back hallways to escape into the garden. He could see his beloved rose bushes and his pond where his pet fish lived- but there was a strange man in white robes standing before them, a strange 't' shaped symbol laying upon his chest...

Everything went hazy, all he knew was that he was in terrible pain. Everything in his sight was blurry, his chest felt like it was on fire. Suddenly he was dropping onto the ground, the cold grass giving him a shock. He gasped and cried, trying to lift his head despite the pain.

He could barely make out shapes, but he could tell who was his dad. His dad was amazing with his dark cloak and white hair- recognizable from afar. He could just see the blurry image of his dad fighting with that strange man, there was a lot of yelling.

The maids seemed unaffected by everything- why were they not in pain? Thatch rolled onto his stomach, gasping as he tried to crawl towards his dad. He was the only thing recognizable right now. He wanted to be held again, comforted and told it was fine. The villagers didn't mean to do this, maybe they were mad about something that could be fixed... Surely they could fix it...

He reached out towards his dad, gasping for air. He couldn't make out much, but he saw this exchange. It will forever be burned into his mind.

His dad's glistening fangs ripping into the priest's throat, ripping it out as the priest shoved something into his dad's chest at the same time... then, that was it. His dad was gone, ash in the wind.

The priest, on the other hand, fell to the ground, unmoving as he choked and gurgled on his own blood, drowning as the red liquid flooded his lungs. His head was still swimming, but his lungs no longer burned. That man- he had been causing the pain? He didn't know... He just felt his small body be lifted off the ground, one of the maids clutching him to herself.

He could barely see his mother being helped up by the other maids... He could barely see, feel or think... His eyes shut and he blacked out, his body too sore and overwhelmed by the smoke and pain. Everything changed after that.